When Love Meets Ego

When Love Meets Ego

Praise for I Will Love Once Again

…talks about love, heartbreaks and finding love again…

— Hindustan Times

…quoting real life fun-filled experiences at workplace, and fun times with friends…

— The Tribune

…an inspiration for those who are heartbroken…

— Ajit Samachar

When Love Meets Ego

Krishna

Srishti Publishers & Distributors

Registered Office: N-16, C.R. Park

New Delhi – 110 019

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editorial@srishtipublishers.com

First published by

Srishti Publishers & Distributors in 2016

Copyright © Krishna, 2016

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

This is a work of fiction. The characters, places, organisations and events described in this book are either a work of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, places, events, communities or organisations is purely coincidental.

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the Publishers.

Printed and bound in India

If you hurt me,

I will hurt someone…

The time is gone when love was light,

It was pure with intent bright.

The attractions, distractions and cheats were tale,

The feel to be with one was without fail.

To be in love was a miracle and light,

Losing someone was accepted with delight.

But things have changed so far,

When being fake and dishonest are at par.

The trust is gone, lust exists,

Thought to be in leisure persists.

Cheat on me and I will on someone,

The mind will play but the heart will run,

Swindling and deceiving will grow,

You will cry

When Love meets your Ego....

Acknowledgements

This book is dedicated to all my readers who eagerly waited for the sequel to I Will Love Once Again , for all their love and wishes; to the people I came across with broken hearts and lost hope.

I am thankful to my parents and sister for their love and support. Special thanks to Gowthaman Eswaramurthi who is the inspiration behind a cute character in this novel.

Thanks to all my loving friends: Simerdeep Singh, Puneet, Varun, Sharika, Shiven, Shraddha and Aseem for supporting me. A lovely thanks to Late Deepika Arora (Jojo), Pooja Singh, and Ramit sir during my tenure in Wipro and NIC days.

Srishti Publishers for being so encouraging and promoting my writing.

OM SHANTI.

I Will Love Once Again

The journey started when recession was at its peak. The offer letter came late and before I joined an MNC in Pune, I got the news of my girl getting engaged and leaving me forever. But the idea was clear: to not curse the past or lament, but to find love once again.

So the search began again. I found Simer – a surdy guy who can make even the dead laugh with his one liners – and my handy roommates cum friends who assisted me in my journey of finding and falling in love again.

It would have been just a thought when I kept comparing every girl I met with Priety till I found Riya, who was an absolute contrast to the one I had loved. Soon we were dating and going through that golden phase of knowing each other, till I discovered that I was still searching for the past in the present. It was too late to realize what I was doing, and the day I thought of proposing to Riya went on to be her last day in my life. The journey never stopped. I got transferred to NCR and I boarded the train from Bandra to Delhi, leaving behind my past and lost love.

The Suicide Note

August 2010

It was still dark outside at 4.15 a.m. and it was raining heavily. I had the keys of her flat with me and I knew there was something wrong that might have happened as she had never seemed so weak to have committed such a horrendous act…

The sound of the falling raindrops was crystal clear. It seemed to be a never-ending shower with lightning striking before the thundering burst of clouds. It was a shocker for me; I could hardly imagine her not being with me anymore. I had only dropped her home yesterday.....

The door opened with a creak as I unlocked it. I switched on the lights and made my way straight towards her bedroom. My eyes were eagerly searching for something as I knew there must be a certain reason for her sudden act. I searched the drawer, under the table, her almirah, and her bags in the hope of discovering anything that could at least tell me what might have happened in the last twenty-four hours. I was about to leave empty-handed when I noticed a blue light blinking under the bed. I guessed it was her laptop.

I pulled it out from under the bed and kept it on my lap to check. Her mailbox was open and there were unsent mails in the outbox.

I was shocked to find that the first unsent mail had the subject: ‘I am done – Goodbye forever’. I double clicked to check the contents, but fearing someone might come, I copied the mail and saved it in my pen drive. It was then that the lights went off, and before I could read anything further, the laptop shut down too. Damn, it was only working with the charger on. I kept everything aside, ejected the pen drive and ran out in a flash.

Life in NCR

December 2009

It was a cold winter morning when I landed in the reverberant city of the north, the city full of forward-looking and forward-thinking individuals coalesced with traditional finesse. A city trying to pace itself with technological advances, and housing people from all over the nation, supporting them in earning their living.

The city famous for Chandni Chowk, which may not direct you to China, but has enough to get you everything you desire. The captivating Palika Bazaar, the scintillating Red Fort from which the PM addresses the nation and the charming India Gate where one feels pride in one’s nation. The glorious historical monuments starting from Humayun’s Tomb, to the high rising minaret Qutab Minar. The place which is not only famous for the key government houses along with the booming metro services that may ease your journey to a large extent, but also is the heart of India holding all the spices of life together – IT hub, Gurgaon, to the film city in Noida and extending its reach till Greater Noida and Ghaziabad provides a complete package. Yes, this is the city close to every heart. This is Delhi. The city famous for all kinds of girls – hot girls, not so hot girls, smart girls, average girls, sexy girls, Janakpuri girls, South Delhi girls… Dilli girls. And for the young and the bold, this place is not known by what you have done, what you are doing or what you will do; but by how many girlfriends or boyfriends you can handle, the affairs you have had, the girls you have nailed, the ‘exes’ you have dumped and the ‘exes’ that have dumped you and so on.

The train halted at the railway station and like the movie star King Khan, I also slung the bag on my back. Standing at the door, looking at the crowd that was shouting, running, screaming and, of course, not paying any attention to me. I was trying to feel the warmth of the city when I was pushed out of the train for taking a few extra seconds, making me realize that I was in a city where every second mattered and couldn’t be wasted. My torrid expression after being pushed was not noticed by anyone. I was out and I could see my co-passenger lifting her bag as well. She waved me goodbye and after walking a few steps ahead of me, she turned back and gestured with a thumbs up, wishing me all the best. I realized I had to call my friend. Without hiring the coolie, I managed to drag my luggage out from the exit gate near platform number sixteen. I took an auto to Sector 22 in Noida where my friend was living.

I was not at all happy after being transferred from Pune to New Delhi. I had successfully completed my training in an MNC in Pune and after failing in three out of four exams, I was able to clear the overall percentage. I survived to get a project and was sent to the NCR location. Even though I am a north Indian guy, I had never preferred the north. But my manager there thought otherwise and no matter how much I wanted to reject the transfer and oppose my manager, my impressive percentage was not enough to make me fight my case. Beggars can’t be choosers, so I gracefully accepted it. I was new to corporate culture, so there was no question of going against of my manager’s email.

It was my first day in office at the new location in Greater Noida. I couldn’t imagine how far they had chosen a place to construct the office. I was a bit nervous, and as usual, I was not only late but late, by four hours. It was to be the first meeting with the manager of the first project I had got in an MNC where discipline, integrity, values, morals and culture dominate. Oh gosh! I was truly scared and began thinking of all the possible reasons I would give when interrogated. I recalled all the weird reasons I used to come up with along with Simer in Pune. The trainers often used to believe or pretend to believe us at that time. So I decided to call Simer before I went on to report to my manager.

"Oh kidda pai ki haal hai? How are you Munnu Khan?" Simer shouted at once. Munnu and Chunnu Khan, these were our names for each other from none other than ‘feautibully’ Punjabi dubbed Angrezi movies.

Whenever it comes to describing surdy guys, a Punjabi sardar, people do tend to take it for granted that one has to be funny, but trust me, not every surdy guy has an impeccable comic timing like my friend.

I am fine, Chunnu Khan. How are you? I feel I am still in Pune and might see you coming out with a new chick, trying to woo her and ask her for a date.

"Na veer, kithe. I guess I am nothing much without you. With you I felt I could woo even Miss India! But jokes apart, oh wow!…a…a…featibul. See! Basically I am doing great and I will soon be a tech lead. Ya…ya…okay man…yup…will do that…yup yup…. My team will. I will simply fire that guy!"

He had suddenly raised his voice and started shooting off like a professional corporate lead. What nonsense!

What’s wrong with you? What are you saying? You are just a sixty-day-old chap and tech lead? Are you nuts? I enquired.

"Oh chup yar… I mean shut up. A totta went and I don’t know how I just deviated from the track, waise where I was?" Simer asked innocently. Totta in Punjabi means a ravishing chick.

You were nowhere! You continue to impress and discourage yourself; it’s my first day so I am leaving. Today I was just late by a few hours so will give some valid reason, I snickered and disconnected the call.

I was asked to report to the second floor. I was right there at the manager’s desk. Before he could ask anything, I abruptly blurted out a reason.

The bus I had taken dropped me far ahead and I had to struggle to find the office.

I can understand. Whosoever comes here always struggles, so don’t worry. But yes, better leave in the office cab. This area is not that safe. Follow me; I will introduce you to your team.

With my mouth half open to spout a few more excuses for my unpunctuality, I followed my new manager.

I will give you an introduction to the project as well, he said keeping his phone in his left pocket. Swiping his card, he opened the cabin door.

This is basically a government project and you will be a part of the global delivery organization team. We are into the ‘national customs’ domain. I guess you are trained in Pl/SQL and SQL and are competent to deal with this… as he explained my role which obviously I was hardly listening to, my eyes scanned the bays and cabins, searching for a figure who would confirm my presence in the NCR.

The team already has twelve members, and is really good to work with. They have joined last month. I guess they were one month ahead of your training batch, so meet your first teammate, Chiya…Chiya…Chiya!

Busy explaining the project and describing the team, and pointing towards the right side of the bay, he didn’t notice that only three people seemed to be alive. They were busy playing 2-D games on their respective assigned PCs. Few were missing and few were….

"Chiya….Chiya….Chiya...wake up!

The manager was left with no other option