The Illustrated Mystery

Maybe fierce? Maybe wild?

I woke up to a text message on my phone from Ekta that said "Use the coffee machine or ask Chandu to get you chai! I'm not your servant bitch. I'm a queen!"

I told you, she's different. You'd normally expect a full-fledged breakfast by your girlfriend but this is what I get. Indeed a special treatment. No, I'm not complaining.

What did I have? Tea? Coffee? Nothing. I'm lazy. 

I asked myself "Where should I begin cleaning from?"

"Should I even clean?"

"The house will mess up anyways?"

"Why am I so lazy?"

"I like the mess. It's cool!"

"Looks like those tumblr aesthetic houses!"

"What am I gonna do though? I'll probably clean up"

"In a while!"

I wasted an hour. Procrastination is key right? I used to score well by studying last minute, so what's hard in fixing this mess? Ye bhi ho jayega. I thought. 

Trust me, I was wrong. And again I learnt something new. Procrastination is not really the key you're looking for.

"The bathrooms seem fine, let's look into the store room!"

Sometimes I wonder about alternate career options. I think I'd make a great commentator, I would love to commentate for cricket matches. I know I'd do it better than actual commentators because they speak literal shit and are KAALI ZUBAAN? 

I looked into the mirror and understood, I have streams of thoughts running through my head all day long. Sometimes career options or sometimes how the world would be without tea? I am weird. I haven't exposed my weirdness to anyon---

"EKTA HI!" I picked her call

"Kya hua? You sound surprised?"

"No no nothing. What's up?"

"What are you doing?"

Admiring myself in front  of the mirror actually, but I had to say "Cleaning Ekta, what else?"

"Right. I forgot"

"Am I allowed to touch your makeup?"

"Ya? Why are you asking? It's not crime evidence. Touch whatever you want!"

"What if I touch you?"

"You could have done it last night but mister was so tired na?"

"Wait what, you were tired."

"No I was not? I'm always up for love making"

"Fuck."

"Aww Aryan, better luck next time!"

"Tonight Ekta. You'll see!"

"I'm tired."

"You can't even pull of the sarcasm loser! Bye!"

And I cut the call.

See? She's different. Normally, girls would turn the world around if you're spotted near their makeup and which girl boards their transport of lust at 11 AM? 

So I cleaned the bedroom and bathroom, sort of. I'm not an expert after all. It's the effort that matters. Exactly what my mother said when I tried cooking for the first time. Although, that was  the first and last time. I plead, not guilty. I can't cook. I hate to cook.

"Store room? Store room! Let's clean this"

"Looking forward to witness A* report cards, health reports, best hand-writing competition certificate and my gameboy! I hope they're there though"

Fun fact; I was constantly mocked for having the best hand writing. Because, a guy, and a good handwriting? That does not really fit well? Anyways, was still proud of it. 

"Why are there so many boxes?"

"Oh wait, could be Ekta's also!"

"Can I look in it?

"No I shouldn't!"

"Well..."

"What shit could possibly be there? Maybe a F grade in math?"

I visualised a crazy childhood that Ekta might have had. Maybe fierce? Maybe wild?