Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    A Kolkata Love Story
    A Kolkata Love Story
    A Kolkata Love Story
    Ebook131 pages1 hour

    A Kolkata Love Story

    By Nawaz

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Love and Laughter in the City of Joy.

    Join Farhan on his journey from one failed relationship to another while his room-mates Aditya, Anthony and Rahul support him by making him feel miserable about it while they find deep meaningful relationships themselves.

    Farhan is a call centre employee with low self esteem and really low ambitions. His only goal in life is to just get through it one day at a time.

    Aditya is an IT employee who never looked at women the way men normally do, until one fateful day when something in him just changed.

    Rahul comes from a middle class family. His family owns a textile company where he works along with his father. He finds love where he was least expecting it.

    Anthony happens to be a drug addict who has his own outlook in life. He also happens to have feelings for Rahul's girlfriend.

    Will Farhan ever find true love or had he already fallen in love and realized it a little too late?

    A comic journey of love and realization.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherNawaz
    Release dateJun 25, 2018
    ISBN9780463991343
    A Kolkata Love Story
    Author

    Nawaz

    Farhanul Ain Nawaz, born and raised in Kolkata, India, he did his schooling in the City of Joy and then went on to do his Engineering in Karnataka, India. He was bitten by the writing bug long ago but only as a hobby. It is not until recently that he has decided to fully commit to his creative ideas and wants the characters that are inside his head to be revealed to the rest of the world.

    Related to A Kolkata Love Story

    Related ebooks

    Coming of Age Fiction For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Parminder Nagra

      May 2, 2022

      Parminder Nagra
      5 min read

    • Article

      Dawn Butler

      Aug 21, 2023

      Dawn Butler
      5 min read

    • Article

      Shura.

      Nov 1, 2019

      Shura.
      8 min read

    • Article

      Being Elliot Page

      Jun 2, 2022

      Being Elliot Page
      16 min read

    • Article

      60, single & HAPPY

      Mar 8, 2020

      60, single & HAPPY
      6 min read

    • Article

      Faces of NPR: Noel King

      Jul 30, 2021

      Faces of NPR: Noel King
      8 min read

    • Article

      Kinky KAZUMI

      Mar 16, 2022

      Kinky KAZUMI
      3 min read

    • Article

      Gina Yashere

      Jun 5, 2023

      Gina Yashere
      6 min read

    • Article

      Helen Lederer

      Apr 8, 2024

      Helen Lederer
      6 min read

    • Article

      Joan Jett

      Aug 7, 2023

      Joan Jett
      6 min read

    • Article

      Ms Carrie Stacks.

      Nov 1, 2019

      Ms Carrie Stacks.
      9 min read

    • Article

      AN EXCERPT FROM Help

      Dec 1, 2020

      Writer, professor at prestigious university, fifties Men are all wearing some kind of suit Liminal spaces of airports and airplanes 2020 The Narrator speaks to the Audience. NARRATOR I’m here—not as I— but as we— a representative of my category— The

      15 min read

    • Article

      Brent Smith

      Apr 28, 2022

      Brent Smith
      5 min read

    • Article

      Hot Like Fire

      Oct 13, 2022

      Hot Like Fire
      8 min read

    • Article

      Letter To My Younger Self

      Dec 13, 2021

      Letter To My Younger Self
      3 min read

    • Article

      Paulo Coelho

      Oct 15, 2018

      The Brazilian novelist, one of the world’s best-selling authors, on nostalgia for his hippie days and the forms that love takes

      2 min read

    • Article

      “Being Trans Isn’t Something That Lends Itself Well To My Comedy”

      Apr 25, 2021

      With a stand up career spanning two decades and history-making roles in Doctor Who, Cucumber & Banana, 42-year-old Bethany Black has become one of the most famous trans lesbians in the world – something she says was “entirely by accident”. “The day a

      7 min read

    • Article

      Alexandra Billings.

      Nov 1, 2019

      Alexandra Billings.
      8 min read

    • Article

      Face Time With Terry McMillan

      Mar 27, 2020

      Face Time With Terry McMillan
      5 min read

    • Article

      the MAN SHOW

      Aug 3, 2023

      the MAN SHOW
      5 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for A Kolkata Love Story

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      A Kolkata Love Story - Nawaz

      A KOLKATA LOVE STORY

      NAWAZ

      Copyright © 2018 Farhanul Ain Nawaz

      This book is a work of fiction any names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the Author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved.

      Foreword

      This book actually started off as a challenge. I usually write morbid stuff and share it with very few people. One of them was this girl who walked up to me in a bar, well not actually in a bar, but there was this girl who told me it’s easy to write sad and depressing stuff, could I write something funny? And, well, as they say, the rest is history.

      Acknowledgement

      I would like to thank all the people in my life who have influenced me one way or another. The list would be too long to mention but you know who you all are.

      Table of Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      About the Author

      Chapter 1

      Kolkata; the City of Joy. Whoever this Joy was must have left it long ago.

      Hi, my friends call me Hitman. Not because I have a head that I keep shaving all the time or because of the fact that I like the game, and least of all not because I have a mausi (Muslim) name and it is linked to some assassin’s fraternity or other. The reason simply is this; I get hit a lot (mind you, not hit upon), especially by women.

      I was out on a date with a girl. We were just breezing through a mall,. holding hands, talking and making passing comments. The usual stuff, the boy meets girl stuff. She was chewing on Center Fresh when it happened.

      I boldly decided it was time and asked, So, what’s your bra size?

      Advice for the 21st century—To men of all ages, especially above ten, it is never polite to ask a woman, when you are dating her, her age, size, sexual orientation and what she wants to do next. Most probably the answer to the latter would be, never see you again (in my case at least I believe this holds true). It is also easier to get out of a relationship this way. But that wasn’t my intention here and I seldom know what my intentions are. I’m very impulsive.

      Whack! (This part of the book brought to you by Center Fresh. Center Fresh sirf zuban ko lagam de. Hath ko nahin. Center fresh stops your mouth. Not your hand. Yes, we advertise in books too).

      This woman packed quite a punch; she was a black belt after all, and I would have fallen to the floor if I was lucky. But I wasn’t. The place where we were standing when I got hit led straight down a flight of stairs. I fell there. I scraped my knee, tore my jeans, bruised my elbow and got scratches on my head. This was one of those moments when I realize why hair is necessary, but I still tend to overlook it.

      Lady Luck, as some of you call her, never did like me much and had more in store for me. The flight of stairs where I fell was a flight of escalator stairs going up. Ten seconds of rolling, tumbling and minor injuries later I found myself lying at her feet looking up at her. She was furious.

      Want me to go again? I asked her, pointing down the escalator.

      She rolled her eyes, saying, Tu nahin sudhrega, Farhan. You will never grow up, Farhan (Farhan happens to be my name) and politely walked away without helping me up.

      I lay there, as there was enough room for people coming up the escalator to jump over me. I gathered quite a crowd; people surrounded me and wondered what I was doing with a bleeding forehead, lying on the floor. If they had simply bothered to ask me I would have told them. Why on earth did I choose to go out with a girl I met who used to go to the same karate lessons as me? It is answers to these questions that always have eluded me. Questions about life, the universe and everything was a totally different matter; I knew the answer to be forty-two.

      The mall security people came. Oi ki korchish? What are you doing? For the people who don’t speak benglish.

      Meditating, ekti crowded jagah dorkar chilo. Meditating, wanted a crowded place to do it.

      Pala ekhen theke! Get out of here!

      Well, that was all the conversation I had with them. They helped me up and walked me to the mall entrance, all the while grabbing me by the collar mind you, without even offering to help me with my bleeding forehead.

      Advice of the 21st century—People are always rude.

      A few band-aids and a snack later I found myself headed down a familiar road.,to the Diner. We (my friends and I. Yes I have friends too. No matter how crazy or stupid the world goes around you, or even if you end up in a straitjacket, you’ll always have friends) liked to call it that. It wasn’t a fancy place;, old man Banerjee used to run it, we called him uncle. The design was a complete rip-off from one of those American diners you’ve seen on TV. Cozy booths, elegant counter, open kitchen and the like. His son had left for the US and old man Banerjee never heard from him again. He made this restaurant, the only thing he had, resemble the diners in the US in the hope that one day his son would return. It is things like this that remind us how feeble we are in the way we attach ourselves to life, clinging to a thread. The door had this bell attached to it on the top so every time someone entered or left it would chime.

      It chimed as I walked in and lo and behold, my friends were in the usual place, opposite the counter in the most central area in the restaurant.

      What the hell happened to you?

      Let’s take a break here and introduce the other ‘three musketeers’. The man speaking now is Rahul, from a middle-class family. His father runs n a fashion textile company of which he is also a part. He has a steady girlfriend who is, unknown to him, cheating on him. The other guy, the man with glasses and braces, a horrible abomination of the species you call homo sapiens, sitting next to him in the booth is Aditya, a tech guy, works for a big IT firm. He always has his face buried in an Apple MacBook doing one thing or another. Coding is his specialty, real life isn’t and so he buries himself in a virtual world. Even now he is working on a new search engine code. The guy sitting to my left is Anthony. Don’t know much about him except for the fact that he’s always high on dope, coke or something or other and he keeps his face buried in newspapers all day; not the current ones, years old. When queried he simply says, I’m trying to look for a pattern. What that pattern is, that’ss anybody’s guess. Incidentally, he is also the guy Rahul’s girl is cheating with (I’ll get to this part later). Me, I work for a call center. Never had much in life; never wanted much in life. We all share an apartment in the heart of the city.

      What do you think happened to me?

      Ask a stupid question.

      What’s on?

      Nothing, said Rahul.

      Nothing, said Adi.

      Nothing, said Anthony.

      Well, that’s how most of our evenings went. The following are excerpts of the conversations we’ve had in the past three years we’ve known each other over a wide variety of topics.

      POLITICS

      Who was the last Indian president?

      Blank stares in all direction. We weren’t much into politics.

      CRICKET

      Tahole koto taka lagali India’re upore, Anthony? So, how much did you put on India, Anthony?

      Dosh hazar. Ten thousand.

      Tui kaj korish na ato taka pash kar kas theke? You don’t work, where do you get the money from?

      He got his face out of the paper, gave me a sideways look and said, Don’t ask so that I don’t have to lie.

      We all left it at that. He was a gambler and a junkie, druggie or whatever you want to call him. But hey, it was his money, who were we to say anything? He always had money to spend, got it from some benefactor, we didn’t know. But he preferred to waste that money and his life away. It’s not like we didn’t try, but he just wouldn’t listen.

      RELIGION

      Four guys practicing different religions, living together. What could go wrong? We did have our arguments, but it was like trying to fight for world peace.

      DATING

      Why can’t you date a Muslim woman? Adi asked in an exasperated tone.

      I replied kindly, Have you met a Muslim woman? Marry one and you’ll know. God knows, my dad married one.

      You turned out fine. Anthony

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1