"The idea that one stroke of butterfly flapping could eventually have a far-reaching ripple effect such as a tornado"
The butterfly effect
I had never known the power of this statement till I realized that it precisely sums up my entire life.It was roughly 8 years back when i had scored handsomely in my tenth board but little did i know thatthe butterfly had flapped.I belonged to the elitists who would go on to study amongst many other things, how current flows through a wire, butalas would never know the current flowing through my spine and the rush of blood to the headfrom a soft feminine touch.I would know the answers to the most flumoxxing puzzles that for ages, haunt,but sadly would never know 'what women want'.
The undertaker had answered,the coffin was ready.Whatever little interaction (read:ogling) i had with pretty damsels , came to the most abrupt end,an anticlimax.In the new science class the only distiction between the two sexes to the naked eye was the donning of a trouser versus a skirt.Majority of the female species were monstrously chested (in the x axis notthe z axis) and the amount of hair on their face and legs could put most boys in our class to shame.
Across the corridor ,in the arts/commerce sections awaited life(not for us :( ).'Sexy' used ten times in succesion defined each one of them indivdually.And it was not justtheir flawless eyebrows, glowing skin and the hypnotizing whiffs of perfume when they passed by ,It was their junior school skirts which not only made the 'one inch above the knees' rule look insanely idiotic but also made some of the einstiens in our class actually believe they were from not very well to do families.To top it all was the legend that made rounds about their very malleablemorals and that they are very obidient, obliging to 'whatever' they were told to do.True Story?? I would neverknow.
Believing every syllable mummy said to the tune of 'work hard beta!! youll get what you want',i did!!only if mummy knew all her son wanted was a peek at the ever elusive female anatomy below the necklineand above the knees.After realising that i was a perennial no-hoper i found solace in the desibabas and the tb6 mokbas and an ocaasional late night sun tvs on mute(comprehending the plot of these moviesnever required sound) where voluptious over weight aunties gave intotheir carnal desires and consequently gave 'it' to tom's dick and then harry.I had no such aunty.I put in a lot of hardwork and "single handedly" catapulted myslef to another scolastic achievement,an admit in an engineering college a la the inception of the storm.The college suffered the fate of all other of its contemporaries with the most dismal beauty beast ratio.(who is the beauty and who the beast is very debatable in an engg college)we wudnt have been aysphyxiayted to death had the beauties ever heard of a pantheons called beauty parlourswhich removed the beacons of manliness from them .Salwaar kammezes teamed with floaters,luminous hair due to bucket loads ofcoconut oil,stern beliefs such as washing hair catalyses baldness and facial hair look best when black were some notions carried and subsequently physically flaunted by the "fairer sex".
The few who indeed had some feminine qualities apart from their anatomy were taken up in a jiffyby the ones who owned a bike and rode it and the girl on it with equal ferocity,the studs who scored notonly in the basketball games but also in the after dark games and the coochikoos who could pull the guitar and the g strings with equal panache.What remained was a highly desperate lot of mes and the only string we could pull was the 'nada' of our pyjamas .(Do not ask me for what!!!)
Occasional trips to the city revived our faith in the almighty.The same sinous 'art girl' eyes,the same pendulum like oscillationg posterior , the covert glances which notice every smile,murmur,sigh and that has been contrived keeping them in mind.They are players indeed, but not on a level playing field.Because the poor ones like us have never played with anything apart from our computers.These eyes ,what they whisper,leave not even a clue in our otherwise high I.Q brains.That eye blink,that suggestive head tilt , that intentionalstrand of hair that has to be put aside time and again, those slowrythmic euphonic sylables numb our mind to the extent that we understand nothing.Nada.Zilch.May be something has been conveyed by sign language,but programming languages are the only kinds we understand.The storm has picked up velocity.
We had heard (sources never came to light) that after college and once your wallet is a little heavy, everyone gets a girl and life is worth living again.So after 4 tiring years of 'nada' pulling , we stepped out of the gates that bound our testosterone for what seemed like eternity.But wise men have reiterated 'once a loser always a loser'.Hopes were only a few light years from reality.Just add a few hundred years,and plenty more pounds to the science girl back in school,bam you get a caricature of my female peers.The eye candy we got from across the corridor and later away from our college in the city has now totally vanished.Any visual contact with the arts/commerce girl has evanesced into thin air for good.There is no going back now,i can only pick the remnants from my reminisces and daydream about it while i bang the keys on my keyborad sitting in my cubicle.The flutter of wings has finally become a tornado and i I am amongst the thousands who have become casualties.
May we all R.I.P.
P.S:The 'I' here is not me.He is a stereotypical engineering student.
A fictional character :D