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Love@Facebook




  Love @ Facebook

  Nikita Singh

  J-3/16, Daryaganj, New Delhi-110002

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  E-mail: info@pustakmahal.com • Website: www.pustakmahal.com

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  © Nikita Singh

  ISBN 978-81-223-1197-6

  Edition 2011

  Printed at : Param Offsetters, Okhla, New Delhi-110020

  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 permission in writing from the author/publisher.

  An Imprint of

  Pustak Mahal®

  Published by:

  Dedicated to

  Papa, for you are, have always been

  and will always be my Hero!

  A Note of Thanks . . .

  I’ll start with thanking my family, each and every member of which is a gem, and has set such high standards that it’s impossible for me to match. Well, I’m starting!

  Papa and Maa, for a million reasons including being such avid readers and passing on the trait to me. Nishant Malay, for being the best brother ever and never ever praising my work! Hmph! Neha Singh, for rating my book 5/5. Flattery is the only reason that got your name here, Mini! And of course, the cover you helped me design.

  Abhimanyu Singh, who bullied me into mentioning him here! Shaina and Shreela Singh, for repeating I’m-sure-you-will-do-it tirelessly whenever I was determined to drown myself into my personal pool of hopelessness and misery!

  For giving me something to write about – Durjoy Datta, Akansha Sharma, Abhimanyu Singh, Viyali Michael and Ashay Shukla for inspiring major/minor characters and/or incidents in the book.

  Durjoy, frankly, you are the only person to whom I can say – This book would’ve been impossible without you!

  When I locked myself at home for a couple of weeks to write this book and didn’t receive a single call from a single friend, I realised exactly how antisocial I’d been. Still, for those who stuck by my side (read – received my calls!) – Pratham Jain, Rohan/Ankit Rai (whichever of your names you prefer!), Akansha Sharma, Pooja Singh and Viyali Michael for always being available for my midnight panic attacks and violent mood swings. Socially ill-equipped that I am, I find it easier to maintain relations by phone!

  For those who made up for the lost time after the book was written – Abhay Mishra, Ashay Shukla, Amresh Kumar, Santosh Kumar, Nidhi Sharma and Deepika Rathore.

  Mr. Amit Kumar, Mrs. Rashmi Kapila and Mr. Durgesh Tiwari for being the best-est teachers in the world and for seeing potential in me that I didn’t know existed! I’ll try to make you proud!

  Guruji, Sri Sri Paramhansa Yogananda, for all his teachings and for writing Autobiography of a Yogi, the best book I’ve read till date.

  And thanks, to the wonderful people at Pustak Mahal, for tolerating me and taking time to answer my Oh-so-lame queries! I know I can be a bug at times!

  Before You Start . . .

  Guy stumbles upon a cute girl (more like, a cute girl’s Display Picture!) on Facebook, sends her a Friend Request. Girl receives his request, checks out his Profile, finds him decent and accepts. Messages are exchanged. Late night Chats follow. Hot Photos are clicked and Uploaded solely for the other person’s eyes. Romantic Notes are posted . . . LOVE! In its purest form!

  Well, if you bought Love @ Facebook expecting this, let me tell you that this is exactly what this book is not about!

  So what is L@F about? I’ll tell you, but first you tell me something – How many of you have added an upcoming VJ/ a model/ a TV actor/ a writer as a friend on Facebook? And why? Tell me what would you do if that person someday decides to pay you more attention than you’d ever dreamt of? It’s obvious that you like him/her, (why else would you add him?) and now your favourite Star is noticing you. How would you react?

  Vatsala is dazzled. Vatsala, who? The girl whose story you’re about to read!

  L@F is the story of Vatsala and how her life takes a U-turn in a few months’ time. How she, the Ice Princess, comes out of her shell, lets herself believe in all things romantic and allows herself – very very foolishly – to fall in love. With two guys. At the same time.

  Ronit, the smoking hot celebrity who’s now taking time out to flirt with her and Ankit, the best friend, who she swears she isn’t romantically attracted to. It doesn’t help that both of them are sexy to the extent that should be made illegal! Now if only she could decide who she loved more!

  L@F is about crushes. And how the crush, if allowed, can turn into love or madness or obsession, depending upon the level to which you are mentally retarded. And if you’re retarded emotionally and socially too… well, God help you!

  So, what are you waiting for? Turn the page and dive into Vatsala’s world!

  P.S. For those who think this is my true story: I’m capable of independent thinking! And oh! I stole this last line from Dexter (the serial killer, not the nerd!).

  Index

  SEPTEMBER (11-40)

  Chat-1 First Chat ......... 13

  Chat-2 Edible ......... 18

  Chat-3 Ranchi and Rains ......... 20

  Chat-4 Battlefield ......... 25

  Chat-5 Get A Girlfriend! ......... 31

  Chat-6 Small Dragons ......... 34

  OCTOBER (41-76)

  Chat-7 This Girl ......... 43

  Chat-8 Messed up Plans ......... 50

  Chat-9 Dance Floor ......... 57

  Chat-10 Blues ......... 62

  Chat-11 Drunk ......... 66

  Chat-12 Champagne ......... 71

  NOVEMBER (77-152)

  Chat-13 Change of Plans ......... 79

  Chat-14 Almost Gay ......... 87

  Chat-15 Best Friend ......... 92

  Chat-16 Obsessed ......... 96

  Chat-17 Not-so-gross ......... 101

  Chat-18 Perfect Liar ......... 106

  Chat-19 Hickey ......... 112

  Chat-20 Eyeliner & Cigarettes ......... 117

  Chat-21 Closer... ......... 124

  Chat-22 Lipstick ......... 129

  Chat-23 Dreams & Plans ......... 133

  Chat-24 Lovesick Crack-head ......... 137

  Chat-25 Bring Me Flowers ......... 143

  DECEMBER (153-208)

  Chat-26 Sabbatical ......... 155

  Chat-27 Die-hard Fan ......... 159

  Chat-28 Blood & Bones ......... 165

  Chat-29 Cold & Heartless ......... 173

  Chat-30 Light Bulb ......... 180

  Chat-31 The Beginning ......... 183

  Chat-32 The End ......... 193

  Epilogue Nothing Else Matters ......... 203

  Chat-1

  First Chat

  September 1st, 2010

  “Oh my God, this guy is so hot!” I exclaimed as I set my eyes on a VJ hosting a show on MTV.
It was a Sunday evening and I was getting bored at home. Weekends are supposed to be fun. And what fun I was having, browsing through television channels, trying to find something remotely interesting to watch! Trust me, it was a difficult job. No decent Hindi movie starts until eight and no decent English movie starts until nine on Sunday nights. And one can watch only so much Discovery/ Nat Geo! So, unless you want to see retired cricketers and TV actors who don’t have anything better than laughing at lame jokes or watch repeats of award shows telecasted every single week, you’re out of luck! So as I flipped through channels trying to find some good advertisements to watch (yes, I was that bored and desperate), this VJ caught my eye.

  Smoky eyes, strong jaw line, awesome hair . . . I called Jaanvi up.

  “Hey,” she greeted.

  “Hi. Are you at home?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you’re coming?” Aww . . . she missed me!

  “No. If I come to your place, Butters is gonna miss me here,” I replied.

  “Butters, who?”

  “Butters, my couch. I’ve spent the whole freaking day lazing on this freaking couch. It would’ve been rude to call it ‘couch’ anymore. So I named it,” I explained seriously.

  “How generous of you,” she laughed. “So, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing remarkably fascinating. I was just bonding with Butters and was getting bored. Until I came across this guy on TV . . .”

  “What channel?”

  “MTV”

  “Okay, hold on for a second . . .” she said and switched on her TV. “Who’s he? I don’t think I’ve seen him before on any other show,” she asked a moment later.

  “Same here. I guess he’s new at MTV. But isn’t he hot? Like smouldering?”

  “No kidding! And like . . . so tall! Perfect!” Jaanvi chuckled. She always did that, taking in the height of any guy she came across. Not any guy, mind you, any cute/hot guy! But it was all well justified because she herself was really tall (5’9”) and it was difficult finding good guys who were tall enough, too. So, if the first thing I looked for in a guy was eyes/jaw line, she took in their height. I might not have enviable long legs like her but being 5’5” was a boon in some respects!

  “Yeah, tall too. Complexion . . .”

  “Dark, but not very – pass!” she declared.

  “Hmm . . . and I like the way he’s speaking. Voice all rich and confident, stance all casual, with an air of authority about him that says you-don’t-wanna-mess-with-me.”

  “Super sexy!”

  “Drop-dead gorgeous!”

  We laughed. “Anyway, are you coming to college tomorrow?” she asked.

  “I guess. What else do I have worth doing? It’s not like I have a life or something!”

  “Chill, we’ll find awesome boyfriends someday and then our lives will be rocking,” she said with conviction. I guess either she honestly believed that or was desperately trying to make herself believe!

  “Well, till that ‘someday’ decides to gratify us by making its most awaited appearance, let’s just spend our weekends on our couches, checking out hot guys on TV!”

  That night, no TV channel aired a watchable movie. Indian television’s standard is dropping by the second, I tell you. So, out of fear of dying of boredom, I logged into my Facebook account. Owing to the stroke of good luck I was having that day, none of my friends were online. Not a single person out of my fifty-four friends on FB.

  It wasn’t strange, actually. It was a Sunday night and unlike me, all my friends seemed to be having a life. Not everyone is as berozgaar as me! So, with no one to chat, I spent an hour commenting on friends’ Statuses and Photos, changing my Profile Info and answering silly quizzes.

  But soon I ran out of things to do to pass time with. It was just eleven o’ clock, so sleeping was out of question. I was a strong believer of a simple theory – a.m. is to sleep, p.m. is to stay up! It was a shame that my college timings didn’t permit me to follow the lifestyle of my choice, but honest to God, I kept trying!

  My mind started wandering and finally stopped at the VJ I had seen on MTV that day. Few minutes on Google Search and I had his biography in front of me. Ronit Oberoi aka VJ Ron. That was all I needed to know – his name. I ran a search on FB for him. And there he was!

  I was surprised to find ‘Add As A Friend’ as an option. Usually, Profiles of all big celebrities had just the option of ‘Like’ in them; they can’t be ‘Friends’ with millions of fans! VJ Ron had 2787 friends. Whoa! Famous, but not that famous either. Quite predictably, I sent him a Friend Request.

  “I still can’t believe he accepted my Request!” I said for the zillionth time.

  “And I still don’t see what’s so unbelievable about that! He has thousands of Friends. He adds everyone,” Jaanvi chided.

  “And who are we talking about, again?” Ankit, who had just joined us, asked.

  “VJ Ron. You know him?” I asked.

  “Yes. He hosts ‘Weekly Top 5’ at MTV, right?”

  “Absolutely, and guess what! He added me as a Friend on FB. Can you believe that? It’s so freaking awesome!” I exclaimed.

  “It’s no big deal,” Jaanvi injected. “He adds everyone. He’s a budding star, grabbing all the attention he can get.”

  “Oh, you’re just jealous!” I teased.

  “Why would I be?” she retorted.

  “Hey, easy girls! Listen, why don’t we, I and Jaanvi, send him Requests too? If he adds us, there isn’t any need for argument,” Ankit proposed.

  And he did. VJ Ron added both Ankit and Jaanvi. So Jaanvi won the argument? I couldn’t let that happen! VJ Ron might add everyone who sent him a Request but he surely didn’t reply to everyone’s Messages, did he?

  So, in order to be the one who wins the argument, I resolved to send him Messages and coax a reply out of him anyhow. It wasn’t all that easy. After five Messages in a row, one every night, the sixth morning he finally did grace my Messages with a reply.

  Ronit Oberoi: Hey!

  Thanks for all the messages.

  I have been really busy lately.

  Catch you sometime. :):)

  He had replied to my message which said –

  Vatsala Rathore: I hope when I wake up tomorrow, I have a message from you in my inbox. Good night :)

  Who wouldn’t reply if you make it look like it’s your only wish in the world!

  Chat-2

  Edible

  September 6th, 2010

  After getting that first reply from VJ Ron, I started liking him even more. One evening, a few days later, I had the chance to have a proper conversation with him. I had logged in on FB and noticed that he had added a new Photo Album to his Profile. I started checking out his pictures and Posting Comments on all the hot ones, and really, there were a lot of hot ones!

  It didn’t go unnoticed; he sent me a message.

  Ronit: :D :D

  Vatsala: You’re so happy you’re sending me smileys!

  Usually good-looking people know they look good and get used to compliments ;)

  Ronit: Smileys are nice in chat. And since you’re not available there . . .

  Vatsala: Oh! Actually I’m using Facebook on my i-phone, so that’s why I’m not available on chat . . .

  Ronit: I figured.

  Of course he did. There is a caption stating ‘sent via i-phone’ right below my Messages! I can’t get much stupider than this. Actually, on second thought, I can!

  Vatsala: But really, you do look quite smashing in those pictures . . . Edible ;)

  Ronit: Thank you :) You’re cute yourself too . . . Edible :-*

  What? He complimented me! On my looks? I hadn’t put up my own photo as my Display Picture, so that means he checked out my Photos from my Albums. He visited my Profile! I almost fainted.

  Vatsala: OMG!! You kissed me!!!

  Ronit: You’re awesome pretty . . . Definitely kissable! ;)

  Vatsala: And now you complimented me! I’m hyperventi-lating!! :D

/>   Ronit: Now that you mention compliments . . .

  ‘Edible’ is a toned down version of some very dirty compliments! B-)

  Vatsala: I wouldn’t know anything about that . . . Never received any! My stare scares boys away!!

  Which was true. For people who didn’t know me, I was this arrogant bitch who looked down upon everyone below the league of Brad Pitt!

  Ronit: Naah! I wouldn’t look into those eyes too much!

  Now that’s a dirty compliment!!!! :P :P

  Vatsala: I don’t even know what that means, but I’m blushing! ;)

  Ronit: Ah! Never mind! ;)

  Vatsala: Actually I do have some idea what that might mean . . .

  Mills & Boon provides good education!!

  Ronit: And fills girls’ mind with such bullshit expectations . . .

  No man has ever been able to live up to them! Poor us!! ;)

  Vatsala: Aww . . . :P :P

  Next day, I retold the entire conversation to Ankit and Jaanvi, blushing all the while. After all, it’s not everyday that a superstar (yes, I know I’m exaggerating) compliments you like that!

  And when Jaanvi said, “I so envy you!” It made my day!

  Chat-3

  Ranchi and Rains

  September 8th, 2010

  When you mention the name of the city Ranchi anywhere in India, the question you invariably get asked by people is, “Dhoni’s city?”

  Yes, Dhoni’s city. That’s where I’ve spent all eighteen years of my life. Ranchi – the capital city of Jharkhand. My city.

  Not only Mahendra Singh Dhoni lives in the same city as I, he also lives in my colony, less than a kilometre away from my house. But that’s hardly something to boast about, as according to the census conducted in the year 2000, a total of one lakh people reside at Harmu. So you can imagine how many people live there now, in the year 2010. Impressed with Dhoni’s helicopter shot (among other things!), the Jharkhand Government presented him a big chunk of land in my colony, where he promptly constructed an imposing bungalow which soon became one of the major tourist attraction sites of the city.

  Another interesting thing about Ranchi is its climate, which was generally pleasant; neither too hot, nor too cold. But if the temperature gets too hot in the day, you can be cent per cent sure that it’ll rain in the evening. While most people considered that a virtue, I didn’t.