Dates

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 This is my first piece out here. Masses of sajha, I hope you will be kind on me. This is a tad "liberal" for some of our literary palettes maybe, but as I mention below, its a work of fiction. This is purely an art of fiction. Resemblance to any person, living or dead, is a mere co-incidence.     “Hey! You look really exotic! Can I buy you a drink?”   I didn’t know what to make out of that statement when I first heard it. Was he being racist? Was exotic a synonym for pretty and different? Was he trying to get into my pants? I sat there completely struck and numb.    “Its just a drink, c’mon now, you can’t reject a free drink!”, Kathy whispered into my ears. As I fumbled with the Blue Moon label on my bottle, I accepted a drink from a guy for the first time in my life – a white guy, to be precise.   Honestly, I don’t recall the first fifteen minutes of the conversation. Stephen made some small talk, mentioned his folks, his hobbies, and how he spent the last summer working for some non-profit in Tanzania. “Gosh, white people got money to burn!” was my first reaction. But of course I didn’t say that. I played along, lauded his philanthropic values and generosity, albeit it was backed by his rich dad’s trust fund.    “Another one? What do you say?”, he asked me after I told him about my family – a story not as cool as his, but he didn’t seem to look away for a second. Might as well, I thought. This was a pleasant change from hanging out with Nepali guys. I have nothing against Nepali men, however, most of them would benefit from Flirting 101.    As I sipped on my second margarita, we talked more about each other. Stephen loved horse riding. The closest encounter I’ve had with horses was when I was ten – I was on the streets of Pokhara when three policemen walked by with horses. Little kids in ragged clothes and smiles ran after them. I didn’t – I was creeped out, to say the least. “That’s so cool!”, I said anyways – I just had to pretend to be interested until the drinks stopped coming my way, right?   “Your English, you know, it’s flawless!”, he mentioned after about three minutes of awkward silence. “Rosetta Stone dude, she is everywhere these days!”, I regretted making that joke even before I started, but he laughed anyways.  The DJ was blasting Usher’s “DJ got us falling in love again” as sweaty guys grinded on their girlfriends, whereas Usher wasn’t doing it for me that night.   “What does your tattoo mean anyway?”, I bet he was staring at my half bare back, but he sounded genuine. “It’s phi”, I replied, “I took real analysis last semester….” I stopped half sentence. Although I wasn’t trying to impress him, I didn’t want to bore him with the golden ratio or divine proportion. “I just like the number, I know its nerdy”, I responded.   “This is my favorite song!” he yelled. I knew the basics of bar lingo that guys used by now, so I bet he would have yelled the same thing if Nickelback was playing.   “Do you wanna go dance?”   “Nah, don’t really feel like it. Also these heels you know, they are killing my feet!” Thirteen dollars down the drain is probably what he thought. But he was nice – “Ok! Ill see ya around” he said.   I took a deep breath. I had successfully averted disaster. Stephen was gone; he would probably find a drunken white chick and take her home. I left the bar, took a cab and headed home.   I remembered my first date. Well, depends on how you define a date.  I was with a group of friends and he was with a group of his friends. As I was sitting on the edge of a sofa at Tantra, two of his friends cornered me and said “Aditya loves you, kura gara na, u sanga”. I complied - I mean he was cute, and regardless of what my mom told me, I wasn’t going to get raped in a restaurant in broad daylight by a stranger. We talked for about twenty minutes, only to be disturbed by my girlfriends who thought it would be a good time to butt in before he even held my hand.   “Kasto lagyo ta?” one of them asked.   I tried unsuccessfully to change the topic, but they weren’t going to waver.   “Kasto churot ganaune”, I said.   “Ajkal ka bata churot nakhane kta bhetchas ta, haha”.   As I paid the cab driver and lit a Camel menthol, I thought maybe I shouldn’t have discounted Aditya seven years ago.  He graduated from Vassar last year, and works for some IT company now. Should have locked down the deal on that sugar daddy when I had the chance. Gosh, we could even smoke together!   I lied down on bed, and played Downtown Abbey in the background just so that I wouldn’t feel lonely. It was one of those nights when I was so tired that I couldn’t sleep. Constant thoughts of Stephens and Adityas consumed my head.   To be continued…. Last edited: 31-Oct-12 01:36 PM

annehathaway · Oct 31, 2012 1:35 PM · 46,669 views

34 Replies · Showing 21 - 34

Page 2 of 2

Very interesting n humorous - Good going

serial · Nov 5, 2012 3:04 PM

Liked it !

Rinzi · Nov 6, 2012 11:18 AM

Haha

halo · Nov 6, 2012 12:40 PM

 Interesting; anticipating more to come and that too soon! ; ) -Grace

Grace_S · Nov 7, 2012 2:04 PM

A beautifully narrated piece so far!! Looking forward to reading more....

Nepal Ko Chora · Nov 7, 2012 11:48 PM

Two thumbs up! Last edited: 08-Nov-12 11:53 AM

durbarmargnepal · Nov 8, 2012 11:52 AM

Thank you all!! I started this off as a random blabber about a fictious night out. However, after responses from you guys, I was enthused to write more. I have to apologize for the abrupt ending though. I have always written for myself, and pronlonging the end till later would have made me write things I didn't believe in. I even thought of leaving the story as it is, but after some words of encouragement (thanks behoove and lynx), I decided to end it. I don't mention Stephen anywhere in this story. That is because I feel like our chapter calls for a story of its own (which I promise is on its way). I will also write many more stories, no matter where I am. You know what they say, you can take the girl out of sajha, but you can't take sajha out of the girl. Dates - Part III This is purely an art of fiction. Resemblance to any person, living or dead, is a mere co-incidence. The best part about your first kiss are the moments that lead to it. All of a sudden you think of everything – the things you like about him, your first date, the first time he held your hands…Unfortunately for me, I was busy thinking of the pastrami soup I had earlier in the day and if he would taste the garlic. Dorky, I know, but that’s how I am. And I didn’t know the protocol! Us Nepali youngsters don’t get the sex talk (or whatever it is called) from our parents. My knowledge of kisses was limited to a Bollywood couple getting real close and the screen zooming into two flowers touching each other (well ok, that’s an exaggeration)   I doubt it was Aashish’s first kiss though. He looked like the one who would have had a couple girlfriends in high school.   I met Aashish at a family function a couple years ago. He looked like any other Nepali guy – a loose fitting tee, blue jeans, gelled and spiked hair. However, there is something sexy about a guy who reads Butler for fun (or maybe that’s just me). We talked about lipstick feminism, gender as a spectrum, and several other issues that would bore a normal human being to death. After we couldn’t take the weird gazes from middle-aged women in the room anymore, we parted, but only after exchanging msn ids (don’t be judging, msn chat was “in” those days).   “Aashish_cobain had added you to his friend list” popped on my screen later that night. I chuckled, wondering why people felt the need to add eerie names on their msn accounts. I swear, I had at least ten princess_insertfirstnamehere and cool_insertfirstnamehere on my friend list alone. Somehow, my name.surname looked sophomoric in that crowd.   Aashish and I talked a lot that month. By the end of it, I knew everything about him – from his guilty pleasures about Legally Blonde to his “grunge phase” in middle school. His facebook pictures then made it seem like he hadn’t showered for days, but he proudly claimed that it was his “just out of bed” look. (Word of advice guys, any sane girl will NOT dig that hairdo).   Some great soul in sajha once told me to keep my endings concise. So I will cut to the chase.   English movies reiterate the idea of love and wedding into your head so often that sometimes you forget your roots. You imagine a guy on his knees, reciting poetic verses, handing you a diamond ring. I was lost in one of those fantasies too, but luckily for me, the reality was close, pretty close.   Aashish proposed to me by the waters behind the government center in downtown Boston.  Earlier that day, I got a text from him that was probably the best text I’ve received in my life (Well, Tyra Banks texting me that I was selected for ANTM was pretty close, jk  jk)   “Hey hun!  Dinner at Hard Rock tonight?”, not exactly the ideal location for an anniversary dinner, but that’s where we had our first official date.  I had proceeded to spill the margarita all over my blouse after having one drink too many and he had walked me home.   “Sure, babe!”, I responded, as I grabbed my things to head out.   The dinner was normal; we talked about each other’s days and complained about the case of Mondays. That was a good end to a Monday though; what more could a girl ask for –flowers, and a guy with the sense of humor analogous to Colbert.   Dinners at Hard Rock always concluded with us walking down to the benches by the water and smoking cigarettes. Since this night was no different (well, until later), we did the same.   “Hey want to watch what’s on the other end?”, Ashish asked me as he dropped quarters into the telli ( I know they aren’t telescopes, but we called them so).   “Sure!”, I responded, partly weirded out by his desire to peek at things when it was pitch black.   After trying really hard to figure out what shapes different stars made, I gave up and turned around to grab a seat. There he was, exactly like I had imagined (slightly better actually), with a ring in his hands.   Obviously, I said yes.   The rest, as they say, is history.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   “Wrapping up your annehathaway saga, eh?” Aashish asked me as I was posting this on sajha.   “Lol I wish, I just started! I have many more stories to tell!”   “So, tell me, do guys hit on you out there?”,  he was only half-kidding.   “Haha, not at all, babe! And you should know that I’m all yours!”, I winked at him.   “So you say!”       The End    

annehathaway · Nov 8, 2012 12:00 PM

Loved the ending. The story about Stephen and 'you' has created an unprecendented expectation, a big one! Can't wait for it. 

riddle · Nov 8, 2012 12:35 PM

Aww cute story.

halo · Nov 8, 2012 1:08 PM

Great story, fabulous writing and sweet and cute writer "hopefully!! wink wink" and lastly the best reader like us. What else I need to make my weekend. It wad a great read anne, thanks for the wonderful piece. Hope to see some more in future.

Karnali Blues · Nov 9, 2012 9:04 AM

 Very nice endding ...or shall I say beginning .... Good read ANNE ... You Passed with high colors(yestai bhanchan kyaara ) as a SAJHA WRITER....YAY ... Timi lai lekhna protsahan diney lai ta fanakka ghumera dhyangryaanga pachariyera khuttama samatera dhanyabaad nai dinu parcha baa...... "Some great soul in sajha once told me to keep my endings concise." ....haina yo sajha ko bhoot ko raicha.... yesto bhattakti aatma lai bhetebhane janya cha maile.....aba soul bhanya aatma ta ho kyaara ni... tehi aatma lai bhoot ni bhanchan kyaare.... yesto ramro lekhney lai ending concise gar bhandiyera....  Hopes are high ANNE... waiting for more of your writing 

ThahaChaena · Nov 9, 2012 9:30 AM

i knew babbal khate was a faggot!! ANI babbal khate bro, will you tell your cornholer boyfriend i said hi!

28th amendment · Nov 9, 2012 7:54 PM

 Who's BK, 28th? 

riddle · Nov 9, 2012 11:35 PM

Ko ho babal khate feri ????? babal khate BRO pani re wos ko boy friend pani re.... yeh 28se..... arkai thread ma lekhna laako yaha lekhiyo ki keho 28se bro...

ThahaChaena · Nov 10, 2012 12:25 AM

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