Mr. Virender Singh fell in love with Geeta when he was in college. He used to bunk classes to smoke cigarettes, and she used to ignore him taking him to be a local goon. On the contrary Virender was mad and crazy and undoubtedly in love with her. They two later on became imprisoned in a social rite called marriage; and i am their son.
On one fine day, during their college days, when the sun was a bit lazy and decided to doze off when on duty, my dad went up to my mom and asked her out, "Would you go out with me?"
My mom had a charm around herself which at times attracted eve-teasers. She had made it a point to learn karate ever since her kindergarten days. If my dad had moved an inch forward, I am sure his balls would have been giant footballs and my birth an aborted mission.
She replied, "aren't you the smoker across the gate?"
"a question for a question? yes, I smoke and the future of the pack in my pocket depends upon your answer."
"You are either going to smoke it indifferent of my answer. Take a breath; go finish your pack."
That is how they met; and how they fell in love is a mystery to me. No matter how much i coax them they refuse to bat an eyelid. They say, "we are saving it for our grandchildren. ask us no questions, we will tell you no lies."
(i hereby promise to make an effort to be regular. :P)
1 comment:
I'll be waiting :)
Cheers,
Blasphemous Aesthete
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