Goodbye Blackberry. Hello Moto.

I could tell you his name, what he did, what he smelled like or the glint in his eyes but the truth is I can’t possibly write even a fraction of what you actually feel in that moment of attraction- you know it, I know it, Stephanie Meyer knows it, Gregory David Roberts almost believes in it.



Just because some jackasses thought about changing ‘impossible’ to ‘I’m possible’ and shrug away cribbers by saying -shit happens, I am going to try to describe that moment. Just how you silently sigh every time someone prods you to talk about your exes or addictions, I do too as I tell you about the time I saw him the very first time.



Tall, sleek, suave, dressed in black- he was in the arms of a girl, seducing her with all the tricks he had and didn’t need to use. Day in and day out, I saw him wrapped duly in someone’s soft caress.



I thought it was my mind again- playing the same it always does- knowing I always have to obsess over something I don’t have. But this wasn’t the usual itch I normally didn’t need to scratch for someone I’d despise in the next 30 days. Sleepless nights, bad work days, and wrinkles even make up couldn’t hide- this was real. I rushed to the place I had seen him earlier, where there was faint possibility of him sitting, possibly with someone as crazy as me.



I remember putting all my energy in opening the door, when I saw the attendant who could let me to him. It was finally time, to own up and try to have something I had no idea I could ever have. And to him I said –



“Could I have the Moto Razr please?”



That was four years ago… till I was temporarily starry eyed by someone else and just like light dissolves in dark, he decided to go away.



Two years later, I know this- many have come and gone- some used, repaired or severely damaged. I am with someone, who’s probably the stereotypical version of SUITED UP, whose behaviour modifications compel me to write status updates. I now have become a part of those mechanical blokes who carry on with their lives and overindulge on the concept of a Smartphone.



The iconic difference in the one who I write about is that I never felt the need to use emoticons. And while we all have turned into cynics and lovers and cynics again-there is a reason why millions yearn to have what is written in mythical legends or urban series.



You stole my heart like a kleptomaniac. And I am going to get you back.



Goodbye Blackberry. Hello Moto.