Story: “Pj” OR “Vijay”

My name is Pratap Jindal, but my friends used to call me "Vijay" instead of "Pj." Sounds a bit strange, right? To unravel the mystery behind how "Vijay" got connected to "Pratap Jindal," let's journey back to my university days.

In my first year, my friends and I had a lovely tradition of having dinner together, usually at the same food stall. It was a modest little place, but the food was fantastic. Now, here's where things get interesting - I had a bit of a crush on a girl working at that stall. My friends were well aware of my feelings, and they often seized the opportunity to create funny and sometimes embarrassing situations whenever she was around. It was all in good spirits.

One day, while we were placing our orders, I struck up a casual conversation with the owner. It turns out that the girl I had a crush on was his daughter. I introduced myself with my nickname, "Pj," and explained that it was derived from my initials, Pratap Jindal. The twist here is that the owner, a kind but somewhat hard-of-hearing elderly man, misunderstood "Pj" as "Vijay" and started calling me by that name. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time, thinking he was saying "Pj."

Fast forward to the day that would change everything. My crush came over to our table, her smile lighting up the reality, and she asked, "Vijay, can you show me the payment receipt for your order?" The entire table went quiet, all eyes locked on me, and I couldn't help but wonder, "Who's Vijay?" She couldn't contain her laughter and playfully inquired, "Aren't you Vijay?" My friends, always ready for a good tease, started chanting, "Vijay, she's talking to you!" I had no choice but to play along, and they jokingly accused me of changing my name just to impress her.

That's when I realized that the old man had been calling me "Vijay" all along, not "Pj." Frustrated and amused, I headed straight to the stall. But as I approached, I noticed the girl following me, matching my pace.

Before I could utter a word to the owner to correct the misunderstanding, she asked me what was going on. I explained that my name was "Pj," not "Vijay." She laughed it off and shared a little secret: "I knew. When you were talking to my dad, I was eavesdropping from behind the wall. But you know, Vijay suits you too," she said with a wink and a playful grin. We continued our conversation, and the name "Vijay" stuck to me like gum on a shoe. I didn't mind one bit. From that day on, my friends started calling me "Vijay," and "Pj" became a distant memory.

For those curious readers, yes, we exchanged phone numbers and went on some dates, and we were a thing for some time. And that's how a simple mix-up of names turned into a sweet chapter in this love story, leaving me as "Vijay" instead of "Pj."

Chapter 6: Good Bye

To my Dear Radha,

I remember the day you got upset with me for texting you. You scolded me for it, but I think you did it because you cared about me. You must have known that I loved you deeply. I can't keep loving you all by myself, Radha. My feelings for you were strong, and all I wanted was to be close to you, to hug you in the morning and kiss you goodnight. My love was real, not just some scientific reaction of hormones. Even now, I think about you every day, and I can't help it. I've met other girls, and some of them liked me, but I still see traces of you in all of them. Kisi me kuch match karta hai, kisi mei kuch, magar tum nahi koi" (Something matches in some, something in others, but no one matches you). You were special, and I don't think anyone else can take your place.

I know, I shouldn't have texted you again, just like you said. Maybe you never really loved me. I admit I made mistakes too. I loved you a lot, maybe too much, and that might have pushed you away. You made me cry, you made me happy, you made me feel alive, and you made me feel like I was dying. And now, you're making me write this, all because of you. I think behind every writer, there's a woman who inspired them, not their mother, but their first love. For me, that's you, Radha, even though I've never actually seen you. Your picture in that golden frame is etched in my heart.

I can't forget our voice calls (imaginary) and endless messages. But one day, you just started ignoring me. You didn't have a minute for my nonsense. I cried a lot, but I couldn't tell my hostel mates why I was so sad. How could they understand what was happening in my heart? I felt like my heart didn't belong to me anymore. When I closed my eyes, I tried to imagine your face, but it was getting harder. Our connection was fading, but it was still strong enough for you to unblock me without me knowing.

How can I accept this, Radha? You don't give me any time now. I helped you with your problems, assignments, and questions, but did you ever think to listen to mine, even if you couldn't solve them? Or ask about them?

Chapter 5: Dhuri

There are some people in one's life for whom we want to sing the song, "Kaise Mujhe tum mil Gaye". It was my mental state whenever I thought about Radha. 'Radha' is a divine name and without any doubt, she was a goddess. It is difficult for me to put into words everything I felt for her. I felt happy about it and sad at the same time. Tears with smiles I can say. I had mixed feelings about her. From love to friendship, friendship to love and then complete strangers. A connection which we lost, I lost, on many occasions. It was either a lack of maturity or something else but emotions! One thing which connected us was my city, Dhuri.

I was standing on the platform. I had not informed my family or friends about my arrival as this was supposed to be natural that I will come home. Furthermore, I wanted to walk back to my house that day. You know, how all it takes is a good walk to move on. You have to literally "move" to move on from something. Well, that's what I thought. Things go as we plan? Rarely.

It's not like I was any popular kid back then. There was hardly ever any instance that I met someone known while taking a walk in my own city. So, walking back home from the station gave me a lot of time to overthink and exaggerate my thoughts. From morning Radha was on my mind, On the train I met another Radha by sheer luck. This was too much for me to stop myself from overthinking. 

The train of thoughts that come during overthinking hit me like bullets this time. This time, my thoughts were saying "Radha", but they were not conjuring a picture for me. I have always been great at imagination. Perhaps my creativity line in hand is too big. I always used to imagine scenarios like literally living them. When reading a book, I am the main protagonist, I am the main antagonist, and I am all characters. Sometimes I am fighting a war in one story, or giving birth to a child in another. I am not a mother but still imagining that was quite easy for me. The act itself is not easy, just conjuring up the feelings and physicality in my imagination.

So, this time, why am I not able to get the picture? My focus is on the road, maybe that's why. Don't you think? I am a good multitasker but having safety on my mind, multitasking is a tough task. I am more worried about stepping over dung than getting hit by a vehicle. A vehicle can apply breaks, but a dung is there. It won't move. Anyways, from dung, Dang it!!! Why am I not able to conjure up a picture. Wait, I was overthinking about Radha, why this imagination crisis is becoming my train of thought's latest passenger?

I stood for a moment taking a side in the shade of a tree. I am going blank in my thoughts and I don't really like this. I enjoy overthinking, or I am so used to it that not doing it right is making me go blank. The greyness in covering my mind.

I texted her. Yes! After nearly one and a half years, I texted her. What in the hell am I thinking. I am walking on the road with my phone in my hand and texting somebody, how dangerous is that? Wait, I am exaggerating it again. Texting while walking is dangerous, but texting Radha is more emotionally dangerous to me. I am going home for God's sake. I should not do this. I should delete it. WhatsApp gives the feature of deleting the message right. Hold on, I am blocked on WhatsApp, the text won't reach her. Yes, it's just one grey tick. I have nothing to worry about.