The Good Night Man

Sunday, April 11, 2010

I was not popular among girls and to be popular I needed a bike. I did not have money to afford the bike until I had to convince my parents to undertake software training on Auto Cadd. The Bachelor of Arts undergraduate had to lie to parents for the fees of software course which was actually taken by my engineering friends. The explanation was done convincingly on how the software helped in managing my assignments and next I got money order for a bike. When the bike came, I was on the top list favorites of the girls. Popularity meant favoritism and I became a busy man.

Sneakers, rolled up jeans and a girl behind me I was a rider of their choice; for vegetable shopping, garment shopping, pubs and late night shows. All of my friends would have slept when I finally reached the hostel. During the breakfast time everyone would anticipate to hear the story of how I spent my time with the girl. Some asked me if I went inside her bedroom and any interesting thing happened with her.

Interesting was when I had to go out at their whims. Every weekend I could get a new rider and only thing I enjoyed was while applying sudden brakes in the traffic. Apart from applying the brakes I enjoyed nothing-I had to be sponsor of movie tickets, pop corns, ice cream, KFC, coffee, beer, dance, etc.

But the excitement was enormous only on applying the brakes. And it was in my mercy to apply brakes even on the clear road. The softness felt on the shoulder blades would carry me few kilometers riding on heaven. As I kept on riding with different girls my shoulder blades started to categorize the girls. Some girls were soft, more compressing area and spongy even at the slightest brake. Another was hard and piercing that could even distract my hands from the handles of bike. Few were as plain as my fellow friends. And with them my bike never received the command of applying the brakes.

And the guys in the hostel would be eager to hear anything from me. I had nothing to tell them. After reaching the girls in their private flats, they would get inside the gate and only thing they told me was "Good night". I wanted to hear "Good morning" from them in their beds but that was it. Like a defeated Tom by Jerry, I would ride back alone in the dark with the echoing sound of another good night clear in my mind.

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