Ok, Shahid and Kareena met in the train.

We met in the bus.

In fact we M.E.T.

Well it so happened that I decided to leave a little late from the office. Instead of the usual 6pm, I left at 6.17pm. And that meant that I would end up taking Bus#56, 38 or the AC 2.

AC 2 arrived and I stepped in. Moments later, I was blessed with a seat, right next to one motu sa, paunchy sa uncle jee. God bless his soul, for he had pulled up the arm rest and that sure made a lot of space. Just then a whole jing bang of people walked in and all fitted into the jigsaw of the fast emptying seats. All but her…

She stood right next to my seat.I (so called) engrossed in the process of reading P.G.Woodhouse prayed she sit beside. And God, my dearie, heard me.

She sat next to mine, and gladly had no objection to the withdrawn armrest. I felt relieved too, for I hate women who make a fuss of anything and everything.
Not all guys have bad intentions. Atleast me does not.

So she sat, trying hard to kinda keep herself busy. A while later she opened her laptop, which went off power, much to my amusement. My role as a silent spectator sure deserved an Oscar.

She picked up the cell and started talking to her friend about how she’d love to remove the M.E.T. logo from her computer (using acetone) and get a nice tattoo kinda stuff done on it.

My alarms went off…

I wanted to warn her: “babe if you use acetone, your computer paint goes for a toss”.  But I refrained.

But dil hai ke maanta nahee. I STILL wanted to tell her, warn her.

Time passed. And so did the stops.
Looked out and noticed that I am just four/five stops away from home.
Not being able to contain myself, I blurted “Excuse me. Don’t mine me asking you this, but what does M.E.T. stand for?

She looked at me.
A nice sharp nose. Specs atop (I loved em) and a nice white top.

What happened next? In Part 2 ...