THREE RUPEE PEN

"Ganpat, give me my pen back!" I snapped, my frustration clear.

"I didn't take your pen, you idiot! This is mine. I bought it from the collage canteen. Maybe you should check your bed or your bag instead of wasting time accusing me," Ganpat shot back, his voice equally loud.

I had already checked. Twice. Every possible place.

"No way! I already searched everywhere. And since when did you start using a three-rupee pen? As far as I remember, you never even touched one before." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"That's exactly why I bought it," he smirked. "I saw you using it and thought I'd give it a try too. So, I got one from the canteen today."

"Oh, how convenient! You're making excuses now?" I scoffed.

"Fine, let's settle this. Let me check your bed and bag myself. If I find the pen, you'll be the one filling water bottles for all of us for a month. Agreed?" Ganpat challenged, crossing his arms.

Filling water bottles was way more exhausting than losing a three-rupee pen. But now, it wasn't just about the pen—it was about proving that I wasn't lying.

"Okay," I said firmly. "But if you don't find it, you'll clean our room for a month."

"Deal."

Ganpat got to work, rummaging through my bed and bag while I kept a sharp eye on him, half-expecting him to pull some trick—maybe plant his pen somewhere and claim victory. But he didn't.

Fifteen minutes passed.

Then, suddenly—"Found it!"

I turned, disbelief all over my face. "Really? And where's your pen then?"

"Right here," he said, holding up two identical pens.

I frowned. "Where was mine?"

"In your notebook—the one you were studying from earlier. You must've forgotten it there."

I sighed. "Notebooks are the worst. They swallow our pens, and we never even think to check." I realized my mistake and groaned. "Damn it. Now I have to fill the water bottles for a month."

A deal was a deal. "Okay, fine. I'll do it," I muttered.

The whole argument had distracted me, and I hadn't even noticed the time—11:30 PM. Then, suddenly, a notification sound echoed through the room.

I jumped toward my phone.

Priya: "Hey!"

My fingers moved at lightning speed.

Me: "Hello!"

She saw the message and started typing. My heart raced.

Priya: "What are you doing?"

I froze. I couldn't possibly tell her I had just been fighting over a pen that wasn't even lost. That would sound beyond stupid.

Me: "Nothing much. Just playing games with Ganpat. Mobile games, I mean. What about you?"

Priya: "Oh, nice. I'm just lying on my bed, doing nothing."

Me: "Oh, nice."

Silence.

Anyone who has ever texted their crush or a new girlfriend knows this moment. The dreaded dead-end in the conversation. That awkward pause where you don't know what to say next.

I wasn't going to let it end like this. Summoning all my strength, I typed:

Me: "So, when's your birthday?"

She took a minute before replying.

Priya: "Umm… 14th of March. When's yours?"

Me: "Oh, nice! I was born on 2nd May."

A second later, I added, "So, are you older than me?"

She read it, waited for a moment, then replied.

Priya: "I don't know. I was born in 2006. What about you?"

Me: "Oh, then you're younger. I was born in 2005."

We exchanged laughing emojis, but once again, the chat stalled.

I couldn't let it die out so soon, so I quickly texted:

Me: "Your birthday is just a month after Valentine's Day and exactly two months from today. Since today is the 12th of January, that is."

I could imagine her tilting her head, wondering why I was calculating all this, but she still replied:

Priya: "Yeah, right."

And then… silence again.

Damn. Chatting wasn't easy.