MG ~The Heart has its Reasons~ Note - pg44 - Page 17

just read part 1 it was so good totally loved it

Originally posted by: ansah

just read part 1 it was so good totally loved it

will for sure read the other parts...i am sure they will be

as interesting as part 1

keep writing

This is wonderful!!! :)
Can you please add me to the PM list? Thanks! :D

Originally posted by: Pooj@

This is wonderful!!! :)
Can you please add me to the PM list? Thanks! :D

Originally posted by: nisha.munim

Pooja, tum? Yahaan?

lol.

Thanks so much for commenting!!

I'm so flattered that one of my fav writers on IF liked my stuff! :D

Thank you! Means a lot to me!

Followed your link! That's how I'm here. Means a lot to me too! :P Anyway, wonderful writing...do me a favour and update, please! Yeah, and I'm updating Coffee...after this post! So be there at the party!
Please update soon, I like this storyline.

Originally posted by: Pooj@

Followed your link! That's how I'm here. Means a lot to me too! :P Anyway, wonderful writing...do me a favour and update, please! Yeah, and I'm updating Coffee...after this post! So be there at the party!
Please update soon, I like this storyline.

omg..js read all 4 parts of ur FF .. i love it..the concept how the characters r portrayed..everything😊👏 plz update sooon..and keep up the good work..also add me to ur pm list😛 ooo yaaaay👏

just started reading it......

Originally posted by: xXSonuXx

omg..js read all 4 parts of ur FF .. i love it..the concept how the characters r portrayed..everything😊👏 plz update sooon..and keep up the good work..also add me to ur pm list😛 ooo yaaaay👏

Part 5

Pyar Impossible

"Geeeeeeeeet, my superstar!" Pinky sang, hurling away her handbag, "How was your audition?"

She had just come back from work (bunking the last of her work hours).

"Perfect," Geet said, looking up from the laptop, "Role mil gaya!"

"Kyaaaaaaa?"

...

A few miles away, at the Khurana Constructions head office, Adi and Maan were working on the costing for a project the company had recently undertaken.

"Sir," Adi said hesitantly, "I was thinking..."

"This had better have something to do with these figures," Maan replied instantly. He knew that tone too well.

"Uh... not exactly, Sir... I was thinking of that girl, uh... your fiance."

"Fake fiance, Adi!" Maan corrected, exasperated.

...

"Fake fiance?" Pinky echoed, stunned.

"Well, I had to say yes," Geet explained, "Peechhe pad gaye the. And I figured it's just a role. No big deal. I must admit though, the guy seriously gets on my nerves. He is so full of himself, uff! He is always referring to himself in the third person. I mean, d-uh, who does that? Lekin Geet Handa bhi kissi se kum thodi na hai. Uske akkal thikaane nahin laaye, toh dekhna!"

"But, munda hai kaun?"

"Some Maan Singh Khurana."

"Kya?"

...

"Kya?" Maan spat irritably, "Adi, are you out of your mind?"

"Sir, I just thought she is a nice girl. You might want to consider..."

"Nice girl?! That Handa! She's so stupid. She came to the wrong audition and she was putting on airs as if she was some asmaan ki pari."

"But Sir..."

"Shut up, Adi. And is anyone going to pick up the damn phone? Where the hell is our receptionist?"

...

"Maan Singh Khurana," Pinky said slowly, still dazed, "is my boss. I'm working as a receptionist at Khurana Constructions."

"Hai Babaji! How on earth do you tolerate him, Pinky?"

"Are you serious? He's like this huge heartthrob thing over here! You know, total Dhak Dhak types. He's one of the most eligible bachelors in town! Well, except that he's got this weird thing that he doesn't want to get married."

....

"But why, Sir?" Adi insisted, "Why don't you want to get married?"

"Kyun? Kya iraada hai, Adi?"

"Sir?" Adi asked, confused.

Maan looked up from the file and raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

....

"He must be gay," Geet shrugged.

...

Adi caught the look and nearly stumbled out of his chair in shock.

"Oh no, no, no, no, Sir," he stammered, "I- I didn't... like I just... Not that I... I was... Not - not, not like that. I mean I... I'm straight."

"Me too. Can we get back to work now? We've wasted enough time today with all this nonsense."

"But Sir -"

Maan sighed. "Dadi has asked you to speak to me, hasn't she? Just in case I don't actually want to get married to Handa?"

Adi laughed nervously, like geeks do, in dull, slow-motion hiccups.

...

Pinky burst out laughing, "Oh my God, Geet! Maan Singh Khurana, gay?! He literally has a new girlfriend every week."

...

"Come on," Maan said, "I'm Maan Singh Khurana. I can get any girl I want. They're all crazy about me. Why the hell should I get married and give up my freedom, only to be stuck with the same chick for an entire life? As it is, I think girls are so irritating. Stay with them long enough, and they start dancing on your head. Me get married? I would rather die, Adi! You know me..."

...

"Yeah, yeah," Geet interrupted, "I know the type, commitment-phobic misogynists, who know nothing about romance. Typical guy. No depth of emotion whatsoever. Love is just this practical, short-term thing that they do to while away the time and look cool... and then, soon enough, they get bored and start looking around again. What would he know about quickening heartbeats and pangs and long, long sighs...? Why would he ever lose himself in the eyes of the girl he loves? Why would he want to fight the entire world just to be by her side?"

...

"Exactly," Maan said, "And this Geet Handa type, God save me! Okay, granted, she is beautiful. Kind of. But I can tell, she is also one of those stupid, unrealistic just-out-of-high-school girls who is hopelessly addicted to Bollywood movies and expects every guy she meets to hold on to her dupatta and hang around for seven lifetimes to come. Seriously!"

...

"Seriously," Geet continued, "this Maan -"

"Okay, okay," Pinky interrupted, "but you have to admit, he is really hot!"

...

"Adi, if you like Handa so much, why don't you marry her?"

"Sir, lekin, main... kaise?"

"Kyun? Straight ho, na? Once she and I break up, main tumhaari baat chalaaounga. Ab mera dimaag chabbaana band karo! Nahin toh..."

...

"Nahin toh kya, Geet?" Pinky asked mischievously.

"Come on, Pinky. He may be good-looking, who knows. But who cares about looks? What I want is my chivalrous charming knight in shining armor who would just magically rush to my rescue whenever I'm in the slightest of troubles... Someone who's honest, sincere, kind-hearted, respectful, intelligent, witty, good-humoured, eloquent, romantic and so deeply in love with me, that he would do just about anything to make me happy."

"But they don't make guys like that anymore!"

"Exactly."

The two girls sighed.

Many hours later, Geet was still dreaming of her perfect prince charming when a knock on her bedroom door woke her up.

"Geet puttar," Pinky's dad called from outside the bedroom.

Geet lifted herself groggily from the bed, and blinked dully at the wall clock until the cloudy figures on it rearranged themselves to make some sense. It was only half past ten in the morning! And it was Saturday! Why was he waking her up?

She drifted to the door and opened it, trying to look bright and cheery, as she yawned, "Good morning Uncle!"

"Good morning puttar! I'm going to the market. You want anything?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks. Where's Pinky?"

"She went to the office."

"Oh yeah."

"Have some breakfast, okay?"

"Yes Uncle," Geet said obediently, waited to hear the front door close, and flung herself on the bed again.

What felt like five minutes later, somebody was banging on the front door.

"Oh, what the hell!" Geet muttered, as she grabbed her dupatta and stomped to the living room.

She wrenched the door open irritably. It was Maan Singh Khurana. She rubbed at her heavy eyelids. It still was Maan Singh Khurana. No surprises there. Only he could be so uncivil.. no, barbaric!

Maan stared at her, taking in, with a fair amount of shock, her wild appearance. Untamed tendrils from her bushy disheveled mass of hair, fell over her face, partly obscuring her puffy, misty eyes.

"Don't you know how to answer the phone?" he asked her brusquely.

"Good morning Khurana. What sort of time do you call this?"

"Twelve-fifteen."

"Hai Babaji, really? Oh okay then, whatever. So, what are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" he asked pointedly.

"Um, no, you can't actually, because I'm alone at home. Uncle has gone to... um, oh yeah, he's gone to the market and -"

"Handa, sweetheart, you really don't have to worry about me. I won't do anything to you. You're clearly not my type. Even less so when you're looking like that."

Geet stifled a yawn. It was too early for her to come up with ripostes. But inhumane Maan clearly felt no compassion for sleepy souls such as herself. He immediately began his ear-hurting tirade,

"I've been calling you for the past hour. Can't you answer your phone? Don't they teach you that at your village? I can't believe I had to come all the way just to wake you up. We are to meet my Dadi at two and you're not even ready! Did you even read my text messages?"

"Can you say that again? Slowly?"

Maan sighed and looked up exasperatedly at the skies. He had been doing that a lot lately.

"Okay, I'm waiting for you here," he said, getting into the living room as if he owned the place, "Go, and get ready. We are going to meet my Dadi. You have exactly half an hour. Oh wait, you're a girl. Sorry, I mean, you have ten minutes. Make that five."

Geet marched away grumpily and came back in exactly thirty-seven minutes, having showered and wearing a pair of blue faded jeans and a long white tank top.

"Handa," Maan said, gritting his teeth, "We're going to meet my Dadi. Can't you wear your behenji clothes?"

"Actually, no. I will wear what I want to wear. And there is no clause in the contract stipulating that you have the right to -"

"Look, Han- Geet, please wear something my Dadi will like. Something traditional."

"Oh, how cute! You said "please"... but no! I like these jeans."

She hated this Khurana guy even more now that he had had the audacity to barge into her sleepy Saturday morning, and her attire had been calculated precisely to frustrate him. She gave herself an imaginary pat on the back, as she watched, mesmerised, that muscle in his jaw tightening.

"Geet puttar?" somebody said just then, killing the magic of the moment. It was Mr Marchanda, back from shopping.

"Uncle?" Geet said, trying to smoothen her panic-stricken gawk to a casual smile. She had seconds to come up with a plausible story.

"Geet, who is this?" he asked sternly.

"Uncle, this is, uh..."

"I'm her boyfriend," Maan offered gallantly.

Geet stared at him. What a jerk! Now Uncle would freak out, and call her crazy family from Punjab, and he would know that she had actually run away from home, and she would have to go back and get married, and forever give up her dream of becoming a Bollywood actress! She was trying to come up with yet another getaway plan when Maan spoke again.

"I was only joking, Uncle" Maan said convincingly, "I am Maan Singh Khurana, MD of the Khurana Group of Industries."

"Maan Singh Khurana," Mr Marchanda said slowly, as they shook hands, "Yes, I have seen you on television. My daughter works at your place."

Geet watched Mr Marchanda apprehensively. The man's stance seemed to have changed. He was no longer wary. Apparently it was inconceivable to him that such an affluent person could be Geet's boyfriend. Geet mentally humphed at the assumption. Why, she would never stoop to this Khurana's level!

"Your daughter?" Maan asked politely, as though he cared.

"Pinky Marchanda."

"Oh yes," Maan said slowly, trying to buy time, "Of course, Pinky Marchanda. She is our receptionist. Very, very dedicated girl. Never leaves office early to go home. Yes, well, Miss Geet had applied for a scholarship offered by our company to enroll at the Navneetkishore Acting Academy, and she has been shortlisted. It's actually part of one of our Corporate Social Responsibility schemes... to encourage new talents. I was just here to explain to her the terms and conditions. You see, she has to audition first, and... I came personally because I was just passing by, and..."

"You know," Mr Marchanda said, a tad theatrically, "People say such bad things about you rich people. But today I came to know how magnanimous you are. Not only are you helping our Geet to advance her career, you actually came to encourage her. Today I feel so proud that my Pinky is a receptionist at your office."

Geet and Maan gaped incredulously at Mr Marchanda's trusting simpering face. Was the man really so idiotic as to believe such a lame story?

When Mr Marchanda had left to put away the groceries, Geet looked at Maan, and for the first time since they had met, she smiled at him, genuinely, gratefully. She was wrong. The man did have some goodness in him after all.

"Thanks, Maan," she said, "If you hadn't done that, there would have been this huge tamasha and I would most probably have had to leave Delhi and spend the rest of my life making makke ki rotis and ironing my brother's scarves."

"Mention not," he grinned, "I should be thanking you. I know your weakness now. And if you do not change into a churidar-kurta in five minutes, I will go to Mr Marchanda and spill the beans. I'm waiting in the car. Find some random excuse for Mr Marchanda. Do whatever you have to do. But I want you in the car in five minutes. And wear pink. It might just make you look good."

Geet instantly took back everything nice she had possibly thought about the utterly undeserving Khurana guy. She hated him, again.

About an hour later, Maan and Geet were at the Khurana mansion receiving a full blast of the traditional filmi-giri Savitri Devi excelled at. There was the lota of rice that Geet had to nudge with her right foot before entering the house, the tearfully performed arti, the ancestral shagun ke kangan. Maan was rolling his eyes all the while, trying to explain his Dadi that Geet was only his girlfriend, and not his wife, but he only got hushed for all his troubles, and soon gave up.

The conversation veered predictably to the realm of cooking, clothes and children. Maan, utterly bored, had switched off his mind and put on his plastic smile mode, when Dadi's mention of his younger brother, Dev's birthday bash forced him back to alertness.

He immediately intervened, saying that Geet, susheel aur sanskaari as she was, did not like parties. But Geet, sensing that Maan did not want her to come, said that she would nevertheless go, for Dadi's happiness. And she gazed lovingly at Maan.