Rajeev is screwed.

Chapter 2 : The Metamorphosis

3 Months Back.

“Indian College of Engineering”, a huge board read in front of Rajeev as he got down from the auto he was in along with his dad. The meter read eighteen rupees fifty paise and Rajeev’s dad promptly took the change one rupee fifty paise from the auto driver inviting cheap looks. There was a sense of pride in Rajeev as he walked into the campus. He would be an engineer in 4 years and a handsome one too! 6 years of water drawing activity in his house had given him a perfect body, good enough for every girl in the campus to invite a second look. The guy refused to get carried away and tried to figure out where the administrative office was. At some distance the temple bell rang changing the course of the visit to the admin block to be pushed after the Ganpati temple.

Rajeev believed in God as much as he believed in the purity of his character. His life was always surrounded by people who spoke the truth and did good deeds. Indian College of Engineering was a pleothra of unwanted characters. The prayers were strong and the steps more determined as they reached the Admin office.

“I’m sorry sir but I could not arrange for a room in the hostel for your son” said the clerk at the office in a very “bribed” way: the unwanted character.

The father and son duo decided to discuss the potential places of his stay over a cup of coffee. With Lord Murphy’s blessings in abundance, Lord Ganapati was nowhere to be seen. A man wearing shorts and a t-shirt which read “FCUK” served them a cup of tea and said “If you are looking for a room, please call on this number”. The tea was extra sweet.

“Nandan, His name is Nandan”

“Alright! Thank you so much!” said Rajeev.

Was this a re-incarnation of Lord Ganapti or was it still Murphy with a designer t-shirt? Nandan would have an answer. He did.

“Hi! Is this Nandan?”

“Ya! Do you want to share a flat with me?” came the reply. Definitely Ganapati, Rajeev thought.

It was a 2 bedroom house on the 3^rd floor of an apartment. The rent was 5000 rupees per month out of which Rajeev had to pay 2000 without any deposit, which meant Nandan was a rich chap. There were 18 posters of Angelina Jolie on the wall, 36 small ones on Nandan’s cupboard and a wallpaper of Miss Jolie on his desktop. Somewhere Mr Pitt was fuming .Nandan looked like a guy to whom puberty hit at around an age of 7 or 8. Screw Darwin and his theories. The guy could jerk off in front of dancing Madhuri Dixit wearing absolutely normal clothes on TV. This obviously meant he was without a girl in his life. “Sex aur Love mein sirf spelling ka difference hai!”, the jackass always said.

Rajeev had started enjoying Nandan’s company. In the first 15 days Rajeev knew everything about Miss Jolie, what 69 meant and how to jerk off.

It was Sunday, Nandan was not home. Rajeev was on his bed taking the mandatory afternoon nap. “Beedo dooji thali ka lage bada masaaledaar…” played loudly on Nandan’s desktop the password of which Rajeev already knew. The doorbell went “Buzzzzzzzzzzzzz…!!!”. The semi-naked Rajeev opened the door and was surprised to see a semi-naked girl standing. Nandan stood smiling behind her and said “Neha! Teri bhabhi!! Lol”

“Hi Neha, I’m Rajeev”

There were now 55 two dimensional photos of Angelina and one three dimensional version standing at the door.

“Neha!” whispered Rajeev as his testosterone level reached an all time high. She wore a pink top which read “Screw you! Look Up!”. The couple settled in the hall as Rajeev went in. Nandan now had a girlfriend. Neha, Neha Sharma. The semi naked girl who had carefully observed the semi clad Rajeev for a couple of minutes, had turned back and said “Impressive!” to her boyfriend. The Beedo song was now in loop and this is the 43^rd time it was being played. Neha was the most beautiful girl Rajeev had ever seen. Period.

“Coffee?” said Neha pushing his closed door.

“Oh! You! Ok! Half cup! Ya! ok !” said Rajeev shivering. The spelling difference hardly mattered now.

A hot cup of coffee and an extremely hot girl made up for all the cold waves Delhi was offering.

“Neha!” whispered Rajeev that night and plunged into deep sleep.