THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU
Kunj tore the page out of his exercise book and balled it up, furious at himself. He had been sitting at his desk for over two hours and had still written nothing but 'The Flawed Justice System in Great Expectations'.
Of course, he had filled pages with her name. But that wasn't what he was supposed to have been doing.
And that was what frustrated him.
He had filled pages with her name for over two hours and had been unable to write even a word of his essay.
He sighed.
He picked up his pen, drumming it against his jaw.
He had been pondering over an idea for at least an hour now. (Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with how the judicial system in Dickens' London favored the higher classes.) He decided that it was probably better for his sanity to go ahead with his idea.
So he turned to a fresh page. At the top of it he wrote the words '10 Things I Hate About Twinkle'. He underlined it twice, then added a third line, because it looked nice.
Kunj tapped his pen against his jaw, thinking. He smirked as he wrote down the first item.
1. She's violent.
Ever since the first time he had laid eyes on Twinkle, Kunj had suffered multiple bruises. He had been at the wrong end of her hand as she spun around, her hands gesticulating to emphasize something. And her hand had unwittingly collided with his cheek, turning it red instantly.
You see, Twinkle was the kind of person who would smack someone if she was annoyed or angry at him. Or her.
She was also the kind of person who smacked the nearest person if she laughed too hard.
Kunj usually tried to stay at least an arm's length away from her, but she always found her way to his side.
Which resulted in multiple bruises for the poor boy.
Kunj winced as he recalled the times she had smacked him, gingerly rubbing his arm, which stung with the ghost of her smacks. Making a face, he moved on to the second thing.
2. She talks too much.
Kunj sat with his chin balanced on his hand, watching as Twinkle talked animatedly about the new kurta material she had bought the other day. She was saying something about how the half the dupatta bore the same design as the material for her kurta, while the other half held the same design as the material for the salwaar.
But frankly, Kunj wasn't interested.
He stifled a yawn, sneaking a glance at his watch. His heart sunk. The cricket game was going to start soon.
"Twinkle?" he tried.
"...waise toh I hate green, but sach mei, Kunj, this green looked so good!"
"Twinkle?" Attempt Number 2.
"Aur Chinky ne bhi aisi material khareed liya! Except hers was orange."
"TWINKLE?" If possible, attempt number 3 was a bigger flop than attempt number 2.
"Actually, mujhe laga ki woh orange wala itna achha nahi tha, lekin Chinky ko pasand aaya, toh main kya karti?"
She wasn't going to let him go, he realized it with a heavy sigh. He let his head drop onto his arms, wondering if he could give himself a concussion by repeatedly hitting his head against the table. His mind was working up on ways to even fake a seizure or heart attack.
Kunj made a face. He added number three to his list.
3. She never lets me watch cricket.
This was oddly fun, he thought. He was actually enjoying penning down this list. Then he frowned. He just had to make sure Twinkle never got her hands on it. If she ever did, Kunj knew that he would be buried alive by her.
Kunj chewed on his pen, thinking.
4. She can't sing.
As an afterthought, he added, At all.
"Kunj, tum mere liye kuch gaana gaa lo, na?" Twinkle asked out of the blue, looking down at Kunj, who lay half asleep with his head in her lap.
He opened one eye, frowning. "Kya?"
Twinkle grinned. "You've never serenaded me before, so serenade me today!"
Kunj sat up and turned to look at her. "No."
She made a face. "Why?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not singing in the middle of the park, Twinkle."
She shrugged. "Then I'll sing. Bakhuda, tumhi ho, har jagah tumhi ho, haan main dekhoon jahaan jab, uss jagah tumhi ho!"
The rest of the song was muffled by Kunj's hand over her mouth. She frowned, trying to squirm herself free, but Kunj's hand was firm over her mouth.
"If you stop singing I'll sing for you," he told her. It was a desperate attempt to make her stop.
She frowned again. "Do I sing that badly?"
Uh-oh. He knew there was no right answer for that. "Tumhe Kismat Konnection dekhna hai?"
Her face brightened. "Okay! Lekin tumne mujhe jawaab nahi diya. Do I sound real bad?"
Kunj somehow managed to drag her away and that's the last time he hoped to hear twinkle sing.
Kunj couldn't help but smile thinking of all those moments. Twinkle was truly one of a kind.
5. She can't cook.
Kunj grimaced as he remembered his birthday dinner two weeks ago.
"Can I remove the blindfold now?" he whined for the twenty-seventh time.
"No, Kunj!" Twinkle repeated with an exasperated sigh as she led him up the stairs.
"Lekin agar mai gir gaya toh?"
Twinkle grinned. "Then I'll celebrate. Now be still will you?"
Kunj made a funny noise, an attempt at protesting, that sent Twinkle into peals of silent laughter.
"I can feel you laughing!" he told her.
She laughed harder as they reached the top step. She steered him around and gently pushed him down onto a chair.
"Now you can take off your blindfold!" she told him.
Kunj removed his blindfold and was surprised to find himself at a table with a red and white checker tablecloth, set with a candelabra, two plates and two wine glasses filled with sparkling apple cider. A bowl of spaghetti sat in the middle of it. The aroma of it wafted to his nose, and he found himself salivating.
He smiled as she sat down across from him. "Did you do all this?"
She nodded nervously. "Help yourself."
He did. He gathered up a forkful of noodles and shoved it into his mouth rather unglamorously. As he chewed, she stared at him, waiting for his reaction. He froze, trying to keep his face neutral. He was definitely in a tough spot.
"Oh, crap, I screwed up!" she wailed, burying her face in her hands. "I knew I should have just made a reservation at a restaurant! At least they'd give better food."
Kunj felt bad that he had broken her heart. "No, no, it's...its wonderful! Sach mei! Itna tasty khaana kisi bhi restaurant mei nahi milta Twinkle."
She peeked at him from between her fingers. "Really?"
He swallowed, forcing a smile. "Yep."
She brightened, lowering her hands. "I love you, Kunj!"
Kunj stifled a sigh as she scooped more spaghetti onto his plate. Poor guy was in for a treat. She made him eat the whole thing in one go.
6. She cries at every movie.
Kunj rolled his eyes as he remembered Friday Movie-Popcorn-Taco Nights with her. The first time they had started Friday Movie-Popcorn-Taco Nights, they had watched The Notebook.
Kunj had no idea how he had gotten roped in to watch The Notebook, because if he had a choice, he would never watch something as gushy and mushy as that.
But at the end of it, two boxes of tissues lay scattered around the couch, courtesy of Twinkle.
Kunj had thought it was because they were watching a sad romantic movie, so the following week they had watched Dhoom.
Twinkle had bawled like a baby when Kabir drove off the cliff.
The next week they saw Night at the Museum. Twinkle had laughed so hard that tears streamed down her face.
Kunj would never be able to understand her. She cried at almost every type of movie. What will he do with her?
7. She quotes lines from Poe.
"Down! Still unceasingly, still inevitably down!" she cried dramatically as she and Kunj made their way down the steps, making the journey from their fourth-floor lecture theatre to the first floor.
"What?" Kunj asked, frowning.
"It's from The Pit and the Pendulum," she informed him matter-of-factly.
Kunj gave her a curious look, but she was staring ahead, smiling and humming something under her breath. His frown deepened, wondering what had just happened.
The odd thing was that she quoted Poe on a regular basis.
Kunj sighed. God had made sure that such a unique piece of work ended up in his life.
8. She drives like a maniac.
Kunj sat back in his seat, grateful for his seatbelt and wondering what he had been thinking when he had agreed to let Twinkle drive his car.
In the five minutes that they had been in Kunj's black BMW, the car had stalled three times, had nearly backed into a tree and then had almost run over three different people and a dog.
"Twinkle, please let me drive," he begged.
"Okay," she agreed, her eyes wide. She hit the brakes hard, throwing herself and Kunj forward. Both of them thanked god for seatbelts.
They looked at each other.
"How did you get your license again?" he asked.
"Shut up." Came the prompt reply.
9. She says 'like' too much.
"'and, like, it wasn't even my fault, but, like, Maa ne mujhe punish kiya! Isn't that, like, so unfair? Babli always gets away with, like, everything and I get end up like, being punished."
Kunj stared at her. He was having a tough time keeping up with her.
"What?" she asked.
He shook his head. "It's always like that with siblings. Mujhe pata hai, Anand bhaiya ke saath bhi aisa hi hai. "
She sighed. "Why couldn't I have, like, been, like, I don't know, an only child or something?"
Kunj smiled. "You and me both, twinkle'"
Kunj took a look at the list. He let out a low whistle. He couldn't believe he had already thought of nine things.
He tapped his pen against his jaw. As he began to write down the 10th and final thing, his phone rang, startling him.
He set his pen down and answered his phone, smiling at Twinkle's name.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Kunj! Tum kya kar rahe ho? Tumne essay likhna shuru kiya hai kya?"
Kunj turned his notebook to the previous page, remembering that he was supposed to be working on his essay.
"Um, ab tak toh maine kuch nahi likha," he told her.
"Sach? Same here. Let's do one thing, hum dono saath mei apne essays kar lete hai. What say?"
Kunj raised an eyebrow. "Lekin hum dono alag-alag topics par essays kar rahe hai Twinkle."
"Toh kya hua? Meri ek theory hai: until I'm studying with you, I can't focus on my work."
Kunj grinned. He felt the same way.
"Theek hai. I'll meet you at the usual place in twenty minutes?"
"Okay! Love you, Kunj. You are a life saver." she chirped, hanging up.
Kunj looked at his phone. He shook his head, still smiling. He rose and began to pack his things into a brown backpack. Glancing at his list, he rolled his eyes and tore out the page. As he swung his backpack onto his shoulder, he crumpled the paper and tossed it over his shoulder.
Who cared about the ten things he hated about Twinkle? He was still hopelessly in love with her despite it all.
Anupamaa
