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Before I start this story, I must tell you that I& #39;m a stoner. & #39;The day that I don& #39;t wake and bake will be the day I die& #39; is the only context required here. Anyway, I was supposed to go out with this girl I met at a Colaba house party, but completely forgot about it
and ended up meeting her while being as high as a kite. Fucking starving as the munchies kicked in, I ordered Charcoal Waffles & Pizza Kulcha because these were the first things I could read on that menu. Wtf is even charcoal bro, isn& #39;t that the shit they used to put in trains??
I could also feel my entire pind& #39;s wrath as I said & #39;Pizza kulcha& #39; out loud. But this girl was bemused by it. I also remember rambling about South American jungles and ayahuasca, which she thought was a fruit.
I was shocked when she said that she wanted to see me again, considering that even at that point, her number was saved as & #39;Colaba Party Chatty Girl& #39;. Cut to a few days later, I was sitting at my place and smoking up,
because let& #39;s be honest I& #39;m not cut out for anything remotely productive. And she (found out that her name was Shreya a day before that) texts me that wished she was in Lonavala, and obviously my stoned ass thought it& #39;d be a great idea to go pick her up right then and head there.
This one time I was making Pav bhaji and said that the secret ingredient is love, and she was blushing out of nowhere, now who& #39;s tripping here? She also thought that the ice-cream that I ordered (cuz muchies obviously) was for her. Cut to a few months later, I said "I love you".
She froze and made me feel weird. I& #39;ve said this so many times to my best friend Pravin and he never made me feel bad for it. So I made a mental note to do it only with him and moved on. A week later, she sends me a letter saying that she loves me too.
I felt like things were getting out of hand by then, but the paper density was so good that it made for a damn good roach, bless her soul. It was around this time when she introduced me to her colleagues, and I really hit it off with the HR. His name was also Pravin.
The morning after going on a bender with him, I realised that I had hatched an elaborate plan that involved the Andaman. But then I shrugged it off thinking what& #39;s the worst that could happen.
The plan involved her winning some dumb competition at work, the prize being a trip to Andaman (yeah like the capitalists give a fuck about your tropical tan), which I paid for.
Once I reached there to surprise her, I inevitably ended up smoking up with her scuba instructor, who convinced me that it was a great idea to propose to someone you barely knew for 6 months (1.5, if you only consider the sober bit). But then, you know me.
That& #39;s exactly what I did and she said yes, which still blows my mind, although I have to admit that holding a & #39;Will you marry me?& #39; placard while being 60 feet deep in the ocean stoned out of my head will definitely be the high point of this relationship for me.
We& #39;re apparently getting married this year, although half the things that happen in my life are hazy. She also goes red when I sing & #39;Pyaar aya, mera pyaar aya& #39; while picking her up from work, but little does she know that Pravin is waving at me from the window behind her.
Again, these standards are impossible to match.
