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Authors: Ravinder Singh
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hope u forgive me.’
I laughed at her panic, though I was wondering why Tanu had done this.
I wrote back to her: ‘Cn forgive u only on 1 condition.’
She was quick to ask: ‘Wat condition?’
‘Whose turn first?’ was my condition.
By now a series of SMSs were being exchanged on our mobiles.
‘U actually wana play kya?’
I loved her style of ending sentences with Hindi words.
‘Hanji,’ I wrote back, complementing her Hindi.
Her reply was prompt: ‘Bt I ws about 2 sleep.’
To this I responded: ‘Oh u need nt play it dear. Jst simply accept dat u lost n I wil frgive u n thn we both cn sleep.’
‘Yaar u know I m scared of playin it. I nvr played dis game wid a guy.’
‘Same pinch! Even m scared. I nvr played this wid ny gal. U still hv Tanu 2 help u. M all alone n we r gonna play half d game. jst d truth part n nt d dare s we can’t play it over the phone.’
She took her time to send her next message. I enjoyed this truce in between our war of messages.
Moments later she wrote back: ‘Yeh theek rahega. But my turn first.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Hmmm … wer u actually annoyed by d 1st msg sent by Tanu?’ was her first question.
‘No. In fact pass on my thnks 2 her if she is awake’
‘LOL!! ur turn.’
‘Wer u nt afraid of sitting with me in my dark balcony?’ I asked.
‘Y? do u bite?well honestly, I was, bt thn u made me comfortable.’
‘M glad u said tht. Ur turn.’
‘Wat ws d best moment of ur bday 2day?’
‘Hmm … best moment … wen u showed up.’
‘Really?’ she asked back.
I responded: ‘Hey, u cn’t ask 2 questions in one go. It’s my turn now.’
She answered: ‘’
As the night progressed, so did the game of Truth or Dare. With those initial few questions and answers that we asked and answered respectively, the game had instilled an anxiety within us.
‘Do u hv a gf either in Belgium or back in India?’
‘No.’
‘It’s diff 2 accept though, yet I wil tk it assuming dat we r playing this game honestly. Ur turn.’
‘I m playin it with utmost honesty. Do u hv a bf?’
‘I knew u wud ask this. I had one long back. We broke up. So the answer is no.’
It had started simple and gradually turned difficult. However, the more it became difficult, the more interesting it became.
‘How many euros do u earn a mnth?’
‘Oh so u are jumping on to questions with numbers. U r makin it diff 4 urself!’ I wrote back without answering.
‘So shall I understand that u lost?’ she asked back.
‘4000 € a month.’
‘Wow!! U r rich! Ur turn!’ came her reply.
‘Now dat u hv started let’s cont with numbers. Wat r ur figure stats?’
Few minutes passed and as I expected she slowed down.
‘This is cheating!’ she wrote back.
She appeared very innocent in her message. I laughed and thought of what she might be going through. I still didn’t reply for some more time, trying to make her accept that she’d lost. I was still under the influence of the beer I’d had just before going to bed. I’d wanted to let myself loose.
It was 3.30 a.m. and I wondered if we were going to get any sleep at all. I picked up the cell to tell her that I was going to change the question when at that very moment her reply popped up on my screen.
‘36-24-36.’
I first admired her straightforward answer and then pondered for a moment before writing my next message to her.
‘Very honestly I appreciate your spirit of playing!’ I wrote, as though to pat her on the back.
‘Thnks. Hd u not made me comf, I wudn’t hv answered this one. My turn now.’
‘If dere is a gal walking in front of u, 1 who has a gorgeous figure, wch part of her body wud u most like to stare at?’
‘Gorgeous figure … hmm … depends if she is walkin towards me or away frm me. Either way I wud hv sumthing to stare at.’
‘That ws hell of a smart answer Ravin’
The game had created a crazy but interesting atmosphere. An atmosphere of waiting for the answer while thinking of
I laughed at her panic, though I was wondering why Tanu had done this.
I wrote back to her: ‘Cn forgive u only on 1 condition.’
She was quick to ask: ‘Wat condition?’
‘Whose turn first?’ was my condition.
By now a series of SMSs were being exchanged on our mobiles.
‘U actually wana play kya?’
I loved her style of ending sentences with Hindi words.
‘Hanji,’ I wrote back, complementing her Hindi.
Her reply was prompt: ‘Bt I ws about 2 sleep.’
To this I responded: ‘Oh u need nt play it dear. Jst simply accept dat u lost n I wil frgive u n thn we both cn sleep.’
‘Yaar u know I m scared of playin it. I nvr played dis game wid a guy.’
‘Same pinch! Even m scared. I nvr played this wid ny gal. U still hv Tanu 2 help u. M all alone n we r gonna play half d game. jst d truth part n nt d dare s we can’t play it over the phone.’
She took her time to send her next message. I enjoyed this truce in between our war of messages.
Moments later she wrote back: ‘Yeh theek rahega. But my turn first.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Hmmm … wer u actually annoyed by d 1st msg sent by Tanu?’ was her first question.
‘No. In fact pass on my thnks 2 her if she is awake’
‘LOL!! ur turn.’
‘Wer u nt afraid of sitting with me in my dark balcony?’ I asked.
‘Y? do u bite?well honestly, I was, bt thn u made me comfortable.’
‘M glad u said tht. Ur turn.’
‘Wat ws d best moment of ur bday 2day?’
‘Hmm … best moment … wen u showed up.’
‘Really?’ she asked back.
I responded: ‘Hey, u cn’t ask 2 questions in one go. It’s my turn now.’
She answered: ‘’
As the night progressed, so did the game of Truth or Dare. With those initial few questions and answers that we asked and answered respectively, the game had instilled an anxiety within us.
‘Do u hv a gf either in Belgium or back in India?’
‘No.’
‘It’s diff 2 accept though, yet I wil tk it assuming dat we r playing this game honestly. Ur turn.’
‘I m playin it with utmost honesty. Do u hv a bf?’
‘I knew u wud ask this. I had one long back. We broke up. So the answer is no.’
It had started simple and gradually turned difficult. However, the more it became difficult, the more interesting it became.
‘How many euros do u earn a mnth?’
‘Oh so u are jumping on to questions with numbers. U r makin it diff 4 urself!’ I wrote back without answering.
‘So shall I understand that u lost?’ she asked back.
‘4000 € a month.’
‘Wow!! U r rich! Ur turn!’ came her reply.
‘Now dat u hv started let’s cont with numbers. Wat r ur figure stats?’
Few minutes passed and as I expected she slowed down.
‘This is cheating!’ she wrote back.
She appeared very innocent in her message. I laughed and thought of what she might be going through. I still didn’t reply for some more time, trying to make her accept that she’d lost. I was still under the influence of the beer I’d had just before going to bed. I’d wanted to let myself loose.
It was 3.30 a.m. and I wondered if we were going to get any sleep at all. I picked up the cell to tell her that I was going to change the question when at that very moment her reply popped up on my screen.
‘36-24-36.’
I first admired her straightforward answer and then pondered for a moment before writing my next message to her.
‘Very honestly I appreciate your spirit of playing!’ I wrote, as though to pat her on the back.
‘Thnks. Hd u not made me comf, I wudn’t hv answered this one. My turn now.’
‘If dere is a gal walking in front of u, 1 who has a gorgeous figure, wch part of her body wud u most like to stare at?’
‘Gorgeous figure … hmm … depends if she is walkin towards me or away frm me. Either way I wud hv sumthing to stare at.’
‘That ws hell of a smart answer Ravin’
The game had created a crazy but interesting atmosphere. An atmosphere of waiting for the answer while thinking of
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