Young Love: A Story In Parts


There are those who believe that, when I ended the last part of this love story, that I am me.

This is nonsense. I am not me at all. I am someone else. Does that make sense to you? Readers, please try and understand the unfailing logic behind this statement – I am not me. I am indeed, someone else.

Anyway, let me get back to Ira and Jay. Their story is waiting, and cannot be delayed on account of those who cannot understand that I am someone else.

I had closed the last part by saying that Jay had started to hear voices in his head, and that he was convinced that these were ghosts. The voices seem to become louder and louder in his head, and ever more insistent. He started to read up on ghosts, and the various theories that surround them. This had, in fact, become a bit of an obsession, and he started to avoid going to work. He grew his hair long, wore a beard, and started to dress in a torn kurta and jeans. All that was needed, was a set of beads, and soon enough these too appeared on his wrists.

Now, he looked like an Indian hippie from the 1970’s, and not walking around with a crazed look in his eyes, would sit on the hillside, chewing the stem of a flower with a look of bliss on his face.

His work came to a standstill, and Ira now had to manage the financial and household affairs. Her temper, never ‘long’ at the best of times, became shorter and shorter, and she started to behave in a most snappish fashion. She simply could not understand what Jay was saying most of the time, and would have been driven completely mad, if it were not for the presence of a long lost friend, who had appeared in their lives a short while ago.

She wondered what to do with Jay, and did consider getting him some psychological help. A psychologist came over, and so did an exorcist. She was willing to try anything.

Desparate, she spoke to everyone around her.

What was she to do? Love held true, but did love hold true when everything about her loved one seemed to change, and he seemed nothing like the person she knew and loved?

Doubts flayed her mind, and she lost weight. One day, she snapped.

She snarled at Jay one day, and insisted he go for a drive with her.

The destination was a long way off, and it was Ira who came back home alone.

Alone, but she knew she would not be lonely.



  1. For fear of being shot, I can only reply that Americans have a very odd view on the outside world! Do you know how many Americans have never travelled outside of it? They are such a mix of so many nationalities and yet, somehow, they just seem to be “odd”. Naturally I am generalising and singularly they are probably very pleasant but something about them en masse makes me fun a mile in the opposite direction. There now, I shall duck!

    1. Well, I have been to the U.S. Just a few times. It’s scary, because I felt so cut off from the rest of the world. They have practically no world news.

      Did I mention that I spent 4 years of my childhood in England?

      1. Yes – its a very interesting childhood. I worry about America, they believe their own publicity. Half of the shit in this world has been started by their own need for gratification. They are insular.. however much they travel around the rest of the world. Did you like England? Are you happy to be ” home”?

      2. Well, I was born..and then I kept moving. I have moved house almost 20 times in my life.

        I spent the best years of my life in England, Nainital, Kharagpur and China. I did my engineering in a small town called Kharagpur. From the Indian Institute of Technology, or IIT..

        Coming back home to Delhi, was a culture shock

      3. that’s because you have become smooth travellers… who is to say that their way is crude or ours….its all a matter of perception. Anyway, that’s a frightfully British way of analysing life. A bit like ” the native are revolting”. ( shame on you 🙂 )

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.