one serious post too many?

In class 6, he gave me a DDT*. I hated him and his attention seeking ways.

In class 8, he made me cry again. The Stunner* if i remember correctly. This time i told my mom who called his place and to his absolute horror complained to his mother. He muttered something about him just kidding around (apparently he was just saving his head because i was trying to bang it into a grill, as if I could ever have done that) and it not being serious. My mom had doubts about his closeness to insanity.

In Class 9, we’re still in the same class, this after 2 class shuffles (one of the two people who were).This time we’re made desk partners. The relief of not getting a girl partner was soon overcome by horror. What if this guy does something like last year? I kept my distance, quietly agreed with whatever he said and soon we found a common target, the sardar who used to sit in front of us, and sparking off a religious war between him and this other chap.

It was during the first history period by the very (in)famous Ms. B that I got caught muttering to him. The conversation went something like this.
Me: Who told you she is good for history? She is damn boring!
H: …..
B: What were you telling him, the entire class wants to know. (sure, they already know!)
Me: Nothing.
B: No tell me. What was it?
Me: Seriously, nothing (With a grin, so my lying skills have improved over the years)

After about 5 minutes of the same, she realized she could ask Mr. Honest next to me.
B: What did he say to you?
H: He said he finds your teaching very boring.

(another 5 minute lecture)

B: You know when my brother used to get bored in class he would draw beards on the pictures.

After the lecture I ask the little pigshit what was the need to go and spill the beans, and he says that I have no idea, she can lip read really well, so I decided to say the truth!

(Before this starts sounding like an obituary, no, he hasn’t died, but he will have liver failure soon and die, the forever sloshed one)

By the end of the year we were close friends. I confided stuff in him and the other way round too. He was the one who taught me what hot really means and what I have to look for when I’m checking out a girl. He told me how computers worked, how easy it is to make yahoo booters in VB and stuff I mostly never understood, yet he got me to nod along with. He taught me how much vodka can be taken in neat, and why you should never drink and drive unless you have the kind of capacity he does. One of the most appealing things about him was that he was always happy, always cracking jackass jokes and laughing at them alone, or just turning red and forcing us to laugh along!

He has made our Pune trips the craziest ones and his overnight parties something worth his going. Of course he hasn’t gone too far, just one Qantas hop away, first class as usual, checking out the hot air hostesses and taking their phone numbers down….all in a days work for the brainless one.

We haven’t been in touch for a while now, but that’s only because the pigshit can’t call international sometimes and say wassup. He will now of course, and make an hours conversation, probably on how much he misses Indian food and *ahem*.

* Wrestling moves, off WWE.