“How many hours a day do you work?” Krystal was back to see Siddhartha on Tuesday. He looked exhausted. She offered him a shoulder massage and he readily accepted it.

“Umm… Most of the waking hours… Sixteen… May be eighteen hours…” he twitched a little as she continued to massage.

“O. M. G. And you still make time for…”

“What? What did you say?”

“I… I’m sorry. It’s none of my business how you manage your time…”

“No. Not that. What did you say at first? OMG? What does that mean?”

“Oh! That? Nothing special. It’s an abbreviation for ‘Oh My God’.”

“Why would you want to abbreviate ‘Oh My God’?”

She chuckled, “I don’t know. Everybody does it these days.”

“Everyone?”

“Well… Not you, obviously. But everyone around me.”

“Everyone your age, then?”

“Probably.”

“But why? Is it in the same league as writing ‘u’ for ‘you’, ‘4m’ for ‘from’?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Wow! You really want to find out.”

“I do. You know, I reject many young candidates when they write an e-mail like this for job applications. How difficult it can be to type ‘your’ instead of ‘ur’?”

“Umm… It probably originates from SMS. Typing there is pretty difficult. Every abbreviation helps.”

“Hmm… Interesting. Although I don’t know why would you want to type so much on SMS.”

“How else do you keep in touch with friends?”

Siddhartha laughed out loud, “Why? You think people didn’t keep in touch with friends before SMSes? Even now, using the same mobile, can’t you just call your friends up?”

“Calling up costs money.”

“SMS doesn’t?”

“There are unlimited SMS packs.”

“Ah! So, that’s the culprit.”

“Is it that bad?”

“What?”

“The abbreviations? OMG and likes?”

“I can live with OMG, I suppose. But if you ever write me an e-mail, please do capitalize your ‘I’ and don’t write ‘ur’ for ‘your’.”

“Hmm…”

Siddhartha had expected her to laugh or be amused. But she looked thoughtful. “That would be enough,” he stopped her from continuing the massage, “I feel much better already. Thanks a lot.”

“You are welcome,” she came out of her thoughts and flashed a smile. Then she came around and sat beside him. “How was your day?” she asked.

“Pretty frustrating, to be honest,” the quickness with which he replied told her that conversation and company were indeed what he really wanted. Although why he wouldn’t have sex, when he could, was incomprehensible.

“Why would you be dishonest about it?”

“Huh? Oh,” he chuckled when he realized that she was just playing on his words. “Now that you have asked, there is indeed a reason to be dishonest about it. For most part when people ask ‘how are you’ or ‘how was your day’, they don’t really want to hear the reality of your life or your day. They expect ‘fine’ or ‘good’ as an answer.”

“But your day was frustrating?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“There is this government deal I am trying to close. But some people there are just being a pain. And my assistant is useless. I think I need to fire him too.”

“What did he do?” she smiled at him, but felt a chill within. How insensitive was he about someone’s job? If he did indeed fire his assistant, and if that guy had a family to look after…

“Can’t even ensure that a form is filled as per the instructions. Government departments are enough of jerks for insisting on all these antiquated forms. But this guy makes my life difficult by messing up.”

“That’s… odd…”

“Odd?”

“Yeah,” she smiled self-consciously, “I mean… I didn’t think people like you have to worry about petty things like filling up a form right.”

“You sure have not witnessed enough pettiness. Anyway. Enough about my crappy day. How was your day?”

“Mine?” she was taken by surprise, “Mine was fine… I guess…”

“You guess?”

“It was fine, I mean. Like any other day. And I didn’t have to fill up any forms. So… I escaped unharmed.”

“Didn’t you say, you were studying Mathematics?”

“Yes.”

“I think you were lying?”

“Why?” she looked alarmed.

“Because you sound like an English major.”

“Oh!” she was relieved; and then laughed to join his joke.

“I would have loved to be an English major.”

“You aren’t then. Why? What did you study?”

“Engineering, then MBA.”

“Why not English?”

“That won’t have helped running the family business.”

“Hmm…”

“You are not sympathizing at all,” he complained jocularly.

“Sympathize? For what?”

“Umm… that I wasn’t allowed to do what I wanted to do under family pressure?”

“First world problem, they call it, don’t they?”

“Is that what you think it is?”

“I… I don’t know. Who am I to judge?”

“You have more basic problems then? Money, I presume.”

“Why do you want to waste your time discussing my problems? That isn’t the point here, right?”

“No. It isn’t. I’m sorry. I got curious. TV?”

“Sure.”

—

Dear Mr. Manthan,

I think I need to apologize for my previous letter. It broke all the conventions of letter-writing. But I got so excited on receiving your letter that I wasn’t thinking.

Still, I do hope that you would take some time to give me an honest feedback on my writing. I’m sure it needs some tearing apart.

Sincerely,
Karishma

—

Dear Karishma,

Your obsession with me tearing apart your writing is amusing. Why do you think I was dishonest when I said that I enjoyed your stories? I did enjoy those.

Keep writing, talk to publishers and seek their feedback. That is what will decide whether you can make a name for yourself in this big, bad world.

Best Wishes
Manthan

—

Dear Mr. Manthan,

I apologize if I came across as accusing you of dishonesty in my last letter. That was not my intention at all. I am happy that you enjoyed my stories and did not tear them apart. But those are definitely not an epitome of perfection. There must be a way of taking feedback and improving, isn’t there? What is it?

Sincerely
Karishma

—

“So, what do you do apart from your Mathematics studies?” Siddhartha asked.

“I like reading.”

“You do? What have you read recently?”

“Haven’t gotten much time recently. But couple of months back I read a very interesting book called Dozakhnama.”

“Thanks God! You didn’t mention the best-selling writer of our time.”

She chuckled, “I have read him. Two of his books. But can’t stand anymore.”

“You did stand two books. Bravo!”

“You really hate him?”

He laughed, “For good or for bad, he has changed the publishing and book-reading in this country.”

“He is creating many first time readers. You have to credit him for that.”

“I wonder if they graduate to reading anything else. I doubt.”

“Hmm…”

“What else have you read?”

“Some mystery and crime fiction before that. And a romance novel called One Day.”

“I have read that one. I think it was interestingly written.”

“You also read a lot then.”

“I like reading too. Yes.”

“Funny!”

“Funny?” his brows arched.

“That you should detest the best-selling writer of our time. And still watch soaps.”

“Video as a medium is created for idiots, or for the idiot-moments of intelligent people. Anything they put in a video doesn’t offend me. But written words – that’s different. That should be respected.”

“It’s time for your soap.”

“Yeah. Sit down, here. Let’s see if the spilled milk has been mopped up yet,” he said as he switched on the TV, making her chuckle.

—

To be continued