Friday, May 20, 2011

EAVESDROPPING

EAVESDROPPING
Fiction Short Story – A Romance 
By 
VIKRAM KARVE

From my Creative Writing Archives: 
A Light Hearted Fiction Short Story about a GEEK a NERD a DORK and their FLIRTY BANTER 
It is late and the bar at the Savoy in Mussoorie is almost empty.
There are just three people – a couple, a man and woman, in their thirties, sit together on a sofa; and on the sofa just behind them sits a solitary man, unseen, in the shadows.  
It is quite dark as the lights are dim; in fact the lights are so dim that the man and woman can hardly see each other’s face.
They have been drinking for quite some time, and, in fact, the woman appears pleasantly drunk as she engages the man in some light-hearted banter, slurring loudly as she speaks. 
“She dumped you, isn’t it?” the woman says.  
“No. That’s not true. Leena didn’t dump me. It was I who left her!” the man says emphatically.  
“Come on, Anil. You think I don’t know everything about you two?” 
“You don’t. You know nothing. It was I who left her. I told you once; I’m telling you again! She didn’t dump me. I didn’t want to live with her, so I left her.”  
“Don’t fib!”  
“Fib? Why should I fib?”  
“Masculine pride!”  
“Masculine pride? What nonsense!” 
“When a man ditches a woman she gains sympathy; but when a woman dumps a man he becomes a laughing stock, a subject of ridicule.”  
“So?”  
“That’s why you ran away from Bangalore after spreading false stories all around that you were the one who had split up with her, when actually it was Leena who had dumped you unceremoniously,” the woman jeers loudly. 
“Talk softly,” the man says.  
“Why? Afraid of the truth, is it?”  
“I told you it’s not true. We had our differences. And I wanted a change of job.”  
“You know why she dumped you? Because you are a bloody ‘loser’. A born loser!”  
“Who told you that?”  
“She did. I’ll never forget what she told me about you. Anil, you want to hear Leena’s exact words - listen carefully to what she said about you: Anil is a born loser who is content to wallow in the gutter and see others climb mountains. That’s why she left you. Leena was very ambitious. She wanted to go places, to have the best things in life. She didn't want to ruin her life with you - a man with no future, a namby-pamby who has no ambition, no drive – a good-for-nothing geek.”  
“Namby-pamby! Good-for-nothing geek?”  
“That’s what she told me.”  
“She told you? When? Where?”  
“Last year. In Pune. During this same annual IT Seminar. She’d flown down from the States. She even presented a paper – I’m sure it was plagiarized from something you had written or from the notes you kept giving her about your work and research.” 
“I am not interested!”  
“Leena is real smart - a real scheming bitch. She mesmerizes you with her wily charms, uses you and then jettisons you, just throws you away when she’s got what she’s wanted. Like toilet paper! Or you know what?” the woman starts giggling; “She treated you like a pad – a sanitary napkin! Use and throw straight into the dustbin.” 
“Shut up, will you?” the man shouts angrily, “Let’s go now. You’re drunk.”
“I still remember our Bangalore days when you used to grovel at her feet, your tongue drooling like a lapdog. And now look where she’s reached – the hot shot CEO of a top IT company while you wallow in your self-made misery as a Nobody in some nondescript place.”  
“Please, Nanda! Let’s go,” the man says exasperated.  
But the woman is in no mood to go, ignores him, and continues talking loudly: “Leena is smart! She told me she’d managed to hook some NRI Head Honcho. He’s an American citizen too. Her life is made!”  
“Maybe, she’ll use him and dump him too!” the man says sardonically.  
“Hey! You’ve accepted it! You’ve accepted that she dumped you. I was right! That calls for a drink.”  
“No. You’ve already had three big bottles of beer.”  
“Who’s counting?” the woman says happily, lurching from her seat, “Okay. If I’ve had too much beer, now I’ll have whisky!” She picks up the man’s glass, drinks it bottoms up in one go, and exclaims at the top of her voice: “Cheers! Down the hatch!”  
“What’s wrong with you?” the man scolds her. Don’t you know, “Beer and whisky – it’s risky.”  
“And frisky! I want to feel frisky.”  
“You shouldn't drink so much.”  
“Why?”  
“Someone may take advantage of you!”  
“Ha! Maybe I want to be taken advantage of? Come, take advantage of me,” she says loudly and snuggles up to him, “Come on, Lovey-dovey. Cuddle me. Do something naughty to me, like you used to do to Leena. Remember…”  
“Shut up. Someone will hear!”  
“Come on sweetie-pie, don't be such a killjoy,” Nanda says snuggling even closer, “No one will see, no one will hear. We are all alone. There is no one here!”  
“We are not alone,” Anil whispers gravely, noticing the solitary figure in the shadows for the first time.
He moves close to Nanda and says softly into her ear, “Don’t look behind you.”  
“Where?” Nanda shouts in surprise and turns around.
She sees the silhouette of the man and brazenly calls out to him, “Hey Mr. Eavesdropper! What are you doing sitting all alone? Come, why don’t you join us?”  
“Thanks. But it’s okay. I’m fine here,” the stranger says.  
“No! No! Come on. Have a drink with us. Don’t be a snob!” Nanda shouts drunkenly, tries to get up and reels towards him, and seeing her swaying and lurching in an inebriated manner, the stranger quickly joins them, pulling up a chair opposite the sofa.  
“I hope we have not been disturbing you,” Anil says, “We’re sorry. We thought we were all alone in the bar.”  
“Not at all!” the stranger says, “in fact, I’ve been enjoying your flirty banter.” 
“Flirty banter? Wow! That calls for a drink!” the woman says.  
“Certainly. My pleasure! The drink is on me,” the stranger says.  
“That’s the spirit,” Nanda roars.  
“Nanda. Please. I think we’ve had enough,” Anil pleads.  
“I insist,” the stranger says, “just one last drink.”  
“Just one last drink!” Nanda repeats drunkenly, “and then the real surprise!”  
“Surprise?” Anil asks.  
“We’ll all go and wake up Leena!”  
“Leena? She’s here? In Mussoorie?” Anil asks incredulously.  
“Yes, my dear. She’s coming for the seminar too. She must have arrived in the evening when we had gone out for our romantic walk to Lal Tibba.”  
“How do you know?”  
“E-mail! I was the one who called her for this seminar.”  
“You didn’t tell me!”  
“Of course not! And I didn’t tell her that I had called you here either. I am just waiting to see the fireworks!”  
“I’m going back!” Anil says.  
“You still desperately love her, don’t you? After all that she’s done to you; destroyed you. You’re scared of her aren’t you?”  
“No.”  
“Then why are you afraid of facing her? Come on, Anil, be a man! Ask her why she dumped you so unceremoniously. Leena owes you a bloody explanation, doesn’t she?” Nanda says. She pulls Anil’s hand and lurches, “Come. We’ll go to the reception and find out in which room Leena is staying.”  
“Leena is in Room 406,” the stranger says wryly.  
“How do you know?” Nanda asks wide-eyed, trying to focus on the stranger.  
“I am Leena’s husband,” the stranger says matter-of-factly. He keeps his glass on the table and silently walks out of the bar. 

 
VIKRAM KARVE 

Copyright © Vikram Karve 2011
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.



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About Vikram Karve
  
A creative person with a zest for life, Vikram Karve is a retired Naval Officer turned full time writer. Educated at IIT Delhi, ITBHU Varanasi, The Lawrence School Lovedale and Bishops School Pune, Vikram has published two books: COCKTAIL a collection of fiction short stories about relationships (2011) and APPETITE FOR A STROLL a book of Foodie Adventures(2008) and is currently working on his novel and a book of vignettes and short fiction. An avid blogger, he has written a number of fiction short stories, creative non-fiction articles on a variety of topics including food, travel, philosophy, academics, technology, management, health, pet parenting, teaching stories and self help in magazines and published a large number of professional research papers in journals and edited in-house journals for many years, before the advent of blogging. Vikram has taught at a University as a Professor for almost 14 years and now teaches as a visiting faculty and devotes most of his time to creative writing. Vikram lives in Pune India with his family and muse - his pet dog Sherry with whom he takes long walks thinking creative thoughts.
 
Vikram Karve Academic and Creative Writing Journal: http://karvediat.blogspot.com
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Email: vikramkarve@sify.com          

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