Lemon Curry

It's (never) over

Sun, 01 Aug 2010 02:24:21 GMT

He knew it was over.

He started moving memories of her out of his life. He changed all 193 of his passwords. All his PINs were moved from her birthday to a randomly generated number. He changed his team names from a variant of her name. He removed the teams whose names he could not change. Changed his ssh passphrases to refer to Jolene Blalock instead of her. Unsubscribed from SMS updates on facebook. Moved her to a less prominent list. He returned the dresses he bought for her and her friend. He reworked his schedule so he wouldn't have to meet her on Saturdays.

He channelled all his emotions towards here elsewhere: towards anger, towards work, towards incompetent doctors. Anything except her.

It seemed to work. He was forgetting about her.

A week later, he saw her again. He saw what he didn't have because he was too chicken to go grab it when it was his. He saw blown opportunities. He saw his biggest failure in life so far.

He will never get over her.

This is not love

Sun, 30 May 2010 02:00:20 GMT

She was going out of town that night. Ten days of fun with family, in a hill station far far away. He could text her, but she obviously wouldn't text back. He wasn't worth the 1.5 bucks per message that vodafone charged.

He had work to do. But he also wanted to do something to surprise her before she left. Something that could be called romantic. Something more than just a "Have fun, be safe" message. Something that would make her remember him. Something that would let her know how he felt about her.

His mind was racing. Maybe he could break into the railway station's PA system and proclaim his love for her over the loud speakers? He killed the idea - her family would be around, she would get incredibly pissed off, and worst of all - he might go to jail. Maybe he could find someone to sell him a ticket in the same compartment she was travelling in. While incredibly exciting to think about, it fell flat since both their parents will kill them, and he would have to waste a lot of time on trains travelling.

Maybe he should just go find where her seat is, and hide a gift there? And then call her and surprise her with it? Nope, too much work. Besides, where could you find a place on the train to hide a gift? And what would he buy? Too many questions.

And he was always able to come up with an excuse.

He took his phone, texted her "Happy journey, be safe, and have fun!", and got back to work.

Somewhere deep inside, subconsciously, he knew. She wasn't worth it.

Proprietary Connections (Lame Version)

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 17:02:05 GMT

He was fast asleep on his bed. Alone. Jock at school, parties during his MBA, and a lot of cash at his job. Perfect. Until that night.

5 masked men broke into his house. Nobody felt their presence. Including him. Until a sharp knife penetrated his chest.

He tried to scream, but no sound was heard - he had already been gagged and bound. The knife was still lodged in his chest - close enough to his heart to hurt him a lot, but not close enough to kill him immediately.

The masked men then poured chilli sauce along the knife, watching him writhe in pain, straining at the ropes that bound his arms and legs. A delicate knife drew lines on one of his eyes. A pair of pliers were at work on his nails, and another at his tongue. A few other unmentionable and often unidentifiable instruments of torture and pain were used.

One of the men pulled out the knife, and used it to write something on the wall. A couple of shotgun shots to his palms and feet, followed by a call to Emergency Services for an ambulance, the masked men were gone. He would survive, but never really live again.

On the wall was written "The man responsible for Sony Ericsson's proprietary connection"

Premature Greying

Wed, 26 Aug 2009 16:02:08 GMT

He liked her. Very much. He had never felt like that before. The butterflies in his stomach were beating up a storm. He had never believed in love at first sight. Till he saw her.

Her waitress uniform made her look cuter than ever. He knew he had to ask her out. He drummed up enough courage, went to her and said 'Hi'.

She turned, gave him a cute smile, and replied 'Hello uncle, what can I do for you?'

Carrier Error

Fri, 31 Jul 2009 20:55:47 GMT

The bus lurched to one side, and fell off the bridge. He felt his skull crack. He realized he had just seconds to live. One hand immobilized, he used the other to find the mobile. Two well practiced presses later, he was at the Compose Message screen. Five seconds later, he had the words 'love ya' typed out. He hit send, and died peacefully.

Five second later, an error popped up on the screen. Unable to send message. Retry?. He wasn't alive to press Yes.

She never knew.

Love

Sat, 04 Jul 2009 23:06:14 GMT

I promise her 'the Treat of a Lifetime'. I cook up a reason realistic enough for her to buy it. I bribe off everyone else to make sure she is alone. And she is.

We walk along the sides of a typical city street. She is talking - she always is. When has she ever been quiet? Quiet is an adjective one doesn't use with the noun 'girl'. And she's no ordinary girl. She is my girl. Atleast, I hope she will be. I hope to know in a few hours.

Pizza Hut is in sight. She expects me to take her there. But I don't. I take her hand in mine and take a right turn, into a broken down building. She is surprised, but does not resist.

"Why are we hiding? Any of your relatives passing by?"

I like her talking style. I like her accent. Is there anything about her I don't like?

"No, I am taking you to the treat"

A 'wtf' look consumed her face. She looks cuter than ever. When has she ever looked not-cute?

Before she could do or say anything, I reach for the remote in my pocket and activate the holodeck.

Within a second, we are at a beach. I can see a bunch of whales diving around at a short distance. Nobody was within eyesight. The sun was just about to set, and the waves reached just a few feet from our feet.

"Where the hell are we?" She is confused and anxious. But not afraid. When has she ever been afraid of anything? Afterall, I fell for her - she can not possibly be afraid of anything.

"This is Southern California, about 50,000 years before we were born"

"Riiiiight. Who are you, a Q? You can't transport people back in time!"

"Ofcourse I'm not a Q, dumbo. I can't transport people back in time. I just recreated the beach in that old building. We never left that old building - this is that old building"

Within a few sentences I explain to her how a holodeck can create any place we can imagine, and how I used it to make sure that the treat is, indeed, The Treat of a Lifetime.

She had a hard time believing it. With the gentle wind against her beautiful face blowing her hair up in a really, really cute way, even I have trouble believing that this was not a real beach.

We start walking. Nobody speaks. The only sounds are the waves crashing and the distant whales.

I can't bear it anymore. I have to tell her, and now.

"Remember the first day we met? At the Milan Cultural Festival?"

"Sure I do! You were making a big fuss about not getting the top place in photography"

"Remember what you said that day?"

"Huh?"

"You said you would be the happiest person on earth if you found a mermaid who could gift you a gold fish"

"Huh? WTF are you memorizing these for?" Another slight arch of her forehead.

I try to keep myself composed. "Well, look there"

I point at the sea.

A mermaid crawls on to the sand. She has a bowl with a golden fish in it.

"OMG What the hell did you do that for?"

"I did it because I want you to be the happiest person in the world. Because I love you. I love you"

A tear rolls out of my eye. I had just said what I had been hoping to say since I first met her 3 years ago.

Things seem to happen in slow motion. The breeze made her hair look damn cute. The setting sun made her beautiful face seem like a spectacular miracle. These few moments, from the time I closed my mouth and she opened hers, seems like an eternity. An eternity I could live with.

A tear rolled out of her eye too. It sparkles like the diamond it was.

"All these years, I was waiting for you to say it first"

My heart skips a beat. She has said yes. She is my girl. Finally, someone who loves me as much as I love them!

Three hours later, the holodeck is powered down and she returns home.

I get beamed back to my ship. Duty awaits.

Emacs

Mon, 29 Jun 2009 02:25:27 GMT

He was coding.

He was on a bus, and coding. He had bought himself a cute little black Netbook just so he could open up Vim on a bus and code Python. He is a geek. A young, 18 year old typical geek. As typical as your usual geek.

The bus was quite empty. It was late at night, this was proably the last bus for the day, and except the Driver & Conductor, there were probably 4 people on the bus. Including our geek.

That was until she got in.

She was younger than him. And pretty. Not pretty as in a 'OMG Dude that chick is HAWT!' pretty, but pretty as in 'Wow, isn't she darn beautiful?' pretty. She looked out of place in that shabby bus, alone at the late hour. Like someone had embedded a beautiful snippet of Python inside a messy tangle of Java written by an ex-VB developer who learnt programming in Turbo C.

He saw her. "Nice hair", he thought. And went back to coding.

Five silent minutes went past.

"Wow, what a Vim user! In the wild!"

He was startled. He was 'in the zone', and when you're the zone, everything outside your screen is just a blur. The blur slowly started sharpening itself.

He turned back. It was her.

"Huh?"

"Your editor? It's Vim"

"Huh huh?"

"So you're not a real programmer. Real programmers use emacs"

"Eh?"

"And real programmers don't use Python either. We code in C"

"Erm, wha? Huh?"

"Yes, C. And Emacs. Vim is for Wimps. You would probably run windows on that thing if you could've. You are a total waste of space"

"What the?"

She timed it to perfection. The bus stopped. She got down, blew him a kiss, and went on her merry way.

He never forgot.