that's how i reached here

Your grammar stinks; spellings awful; but I am happy at least my brother started writing or trying to…” the first few lines of her feedback on my mail attachment ‘whom I love-final.doc’.

She further queried, “But who triggered such a lazy person like you to pick a pen and put it on paper? Any girl?”

“Not exactly! A stranger in a train travel, 40+ lady to precise… will explain it when we meet” I responded. I looked at the print out in my hand; I felt like it was
giving me a dirty look as I could not make it any
worthy”


An I-10 swifts across me and stopped, interrupting my thoughts. I got in and we greeted each other.

“Bon dia! Sorry for the late” he appologised in his crisp Portuguese ascent.

We started dialoguing querying about each other’s
nativity. He has the name of an angel and face concurred it. From today he will drive me to the site, where my next assignment is.

“What are you going to do there?” one among his questions mid of the conversation made an impact in my thoughts more than required.


“Are you sure nothing? No idea?” she exclaimed with extra exclamations in a typical female fashion.

“No” that was my honest reply to the girl who was a mere stranger three hours before when we exchange in YM! and with whom I am speaking over mobile for more than 20 min.

“Let me brief about me” she prepared for her self proclamation;

“I am a SEO, who can help you in promoting your writing; but you have to post it in the domain which I will offer you”.

“Well this was my first ever material and I almost pledged myself as the last. I got a genuine comment on this from my sister just yesterday” I put my refusal forward.

“Ok then! Your wish! Who I to insists you?” a kind of counter more to me rather than an acceptance from her.

”But at least post this in BlogSpot” she suggested and explained the every basic things of blogging, which I never knew then.

“What happened with that gypsy styled girl? You proposed? She accepted?” she demanded for too many personal answers in the very first day.

“Some other day; I wished to be early in office on Mondays” replied with a belief she would consider that as a reasonable excuse.


As I was thinking all these, still I could semi-engaged in the conversation as we just driving outside the city. “How long you are here?” I asked as to pretend him that I was completely present with him. (One trick we do, when teachers give us a skeptical look during their lectures)


“Two years boss” was the response over call to an under-utilised and under-rated Tamil writer, who I met only once.

“But you confused me with the conclusion” he expressed his disappointment following my reply to how long I am writing.

I rebuked myself for not learning the art of writing in almost 2 years.

“I don’t think you have too many readers” he said with a concern.

“I guess you should have an option to share your blogs in FB; I don’t know how, but Google it” he hinted.


I failed to convince him that I am fully engaged in the professo-personal conversation going inside the car, he remind silent as a result. I pulled my mobile form its cover so as to avoid some uncomfortable eye contacts and logged into my facebook account.

“Most of them are posted for the ‘N’th time – some are popular sms since my college days – couple of self proclamations – few real good pictures as I slided up and down more than once.

I spend considerable time these days with Facebook. We gather in some post whenever we could squeeze time and comment purposelessly (or technically can be called ‘mokkais’) among who we identified as friends.



“No, not like that” she commented in one of those posts in FB.

“There are considerable number of men who posts there” - a strange piece of information for me from a blogger of that site & a terror lady, who dare to summon ghosts and challenge them if they have guts to come in front of her.

“Even you can post your blogs there” she evoked the idea of signing up and CCP my writings in that site, which claims it has more than 1,000,000+ visitors and about which I had a fallacy ‘it is exclusively for women’.


“How long more” I re-initiated the conversation with him, the site manager who is driving me to one of those sites at down-town.

“Another 20 min; you think me bad if I ask more about you?” he asked with a sound of sarcasm.

I took a pause and ensured all my backend thought process are over and started telling him about my academics and professional experience with a much sounding manner sans pride.

He parked the car, as we got out of it.


“That’s how I reached here” I completed by telling him how I got the opportunity to be at the site.

He said with a grin “Welcome my friend! All the best here!”


Now, what you would be to telling to me???

 

firstly, tkx sofea for the words "Welcome my friend! All the best here!"
and many thks for the commnts!
may b its time for me to learn 'how to write without' confusing'

there are couple more females i mentioned; but y ly the gypsy-styled girl??

 

satc/ishdevi/malar,

thanks for sparing ur time to comment (and ofcourse to re-read it, if you did) !

my sincere request to all who taking about the G-girl is "consider her as a kind of gimmick & forget" her (as i did)

 

thanks akila!
will try to post at regularly (as far as i receive comments like this)