‘My first blood written love letter’

This is again a story that conjures up images of the DTC buses as mentioned in my previous blog. Why somebody writes a love letter and with his own blood? Insanity, craziness or suicidal? There could possibly be many reasons, but this story is completely different. Please forgive my grammatical errors, as I am not here to give any gyan or so. I want to share my life with many of you and will try my best to bring a hint of smile on your face. If you get to learn something out of my mistakes then nothing like it. I request all my media friends not to mind my ‘angrezi’ and help me out in nurturing it. Here the story starts:

I had a friend Lalit, who lived in my vicinity. He was two years younger to me. We used to board DTC buses for our schools from the same bus stop. His school was 2km farther than mine. As I said in my earlier blog that there was quite a rush those days on the DTC buses which were full of students and daily passengers. Lalit actually started liking a girl whose name was Praveena. He was very much in love with her. One day he showed me the girl who managed to board the same bus from a different bus stop. Lalit got so much fascinated with Praveena that he and us (me and some other friends) started passing indirect comments. We laughed, teased and made fun of all the boys and girls present in the same bus. The best part is that the girls always reciprocated to our harmless jokes. It is a wonderful childhood memory, which we still cannot forget. Lalit decided to propose Praveena, but he couldn’t do so as her friends were always around her.

One day I went to Lalit’s shop where he used to work part time. He was completely lost in her dreams. I snapped my fingers then only he realized that I came. I asked him ‘what is the matter boss’. He said that he wants to write a letter and express his love for Praveena. I was shocked to know when he said that he wants to write the letter with his own blood.

“Paagal he kya -- Dimaag kharab ho gaya he tera” (I said)
‘HAAN, Dimaag kharab ho gaya he mera’ (He replied)
‘Kuchh bhi ho jaaye, I will write’

He was carrying a blade and he tried to slit his finger. He tried it 3-4 times, but failed as it was a painful process and in spite of his deliberate cuts, blood was not coming out. Seeing this insanity of Lalit I offered him to let me slit my finger and write that letter for him. Lalit growled -- ‘No man let me do’. All his efforts were going in vain. I took the blade forcefully from him, but he snatched it back. In the process my finger got cut. So I finally said to Lalit ‘dekh meine bola tha na, mujhe likhne de’. Inadvertently he agreed and I wrote the letter with my blood for him. My first blood letter that I wrote was for my friend’s love and not mine.

‘Picture abhi baaki he mere dost’

After 3 days I got to know from some of my friend that Lalit met with an accident and got seriously injured. So Lucky, Vicky (another friends) and I went to see him. We were shocked to see his wounds. His face was heavily bruised. I asked him what happened.

‘Kya hua bhai, How did it happen?’
“Pehle darwaja band kar” (he replied)
‘Uske bhaiyon ne hockiyon se maara mujhe!’
‘Abey saale bola tha na tujhe’ (I said)
Vicky said, let’s go and smash them bastards.
“Nahin yaar, yeh sab pyaar karne ki sajaa he, jo mujhe manjoor he”
what? (we burst and couldn’t stop laughing)

THIS STORY ENDED ON A NOTE THAT ‘NEVER EVER UNDER OR OVER ESTIMATE ANY GIRL.’