Amit Speaks...Chapter 4: Is amit in love?

I came back to continue writing but what shall I write. I notice that my language here is very poor. My sentences are disjointed, structurally wrong; my grammar is incorrect; my sentence construction iterative; writing style repetitive; and my usage of words may even give Mrs. Malaprop a superiority complex. But how can I help this. Sonali is telling Mr. Khan that she is the most tech-savvy person in the entire office. Yesterday itself she had difficulty starting her own computer. Her mood has been very bad today. She has brought with her a paper bag, which says, no shouts, that it came along with a blackberry. And these mean, self-centered people around here, none of them has asked her anything about the blackberry. Actually she could have done without this bag too. I know it for sure because I have already checked. Yes, my suspicion was correct. It is empty. She has brought it along just for people to see.

I had figured out what she’s up to in the morning itself. I have been so idle that I have even thought that I might go on writing like this and release a book that might become famous and afterwards people may start calling me one of the greatest authors of all times. Some big producer may even want to make a film on my life - Shakespeare Returns. I’m feeling hungry now; I’ll go out and eat something. Its 4:12 pm. I’m back. 4:31pm.On my way to the shop, I saw Pooja. She also noticed me and smiled lovingly. I think there is some divine force that pulls us towards each other. May be we are made for each other. What rubbish…. I am lesser to her by at least 4 years in age, at least 40 points in IQ and 4000 points in looks.How in this world did I think she would look lovingly at me? It must have been the bus conductor behind me. He would be a better match to her than me.

Actually she is not that beautiful. She is always with a friend, who looks like Magica, the vamp in duck tales, baked in a furnace for 15 years. When you see both of them together you start finding Pooja attractive. It is all relative beauty. In absolute terms I am not sure if she is that good looking or not. With these thoughts I reached the shop. I sat down, ordered a samosa, ate it, and then ordered an imarti. The boy told me it is made up of moong daal. I said it is o.k. I know. He said it costs 5 bucks. Now, I may have been looking a bit disheveled but I felt like asking him do I look that price sensitive. Anyways I ate the imarti and came back, sat on my chair and resumed writing. It is 4:50 pm. I will play free cell for a while now.