A/N: I recently re-watched Mohabbatein for the second time (yes, I had written those other two stories with only a vague memory of watching it two years ago). The thing is, I remembered hating it and being close to nodding off at some points. However, this time I actually kind of liked it. I broke down performances like this:
Shahrukh – brilliant.
Amitabh – good at times, average at others.
Aishwarya – brilliant, one of her best.
Jimmy Shergill – decent.
Jugal Hansraj – aw, he's the Masoom kid, so I have a soft spot for him. But looking at it objectively, he sucked.
Uday Chopra – sucked and in addition to being a crappy actor, he's so ugly that I felt like punching him in the face.
The girls – all sucked. On the other hand, in the dancing montage, Shamita Shetty's dramatic throwing off of a black cloth of some sort was unintentionally hilarious, so she must be given credit for that.
In the end, I actually liked it, even though it's cheesy beyond belief. Watching the scene with Aishwarya and Amitabh, I got the idea for this story – hope you enjoy it!
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Telephones
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Newspaper, check. Tea, cold after waiting ten minutes, check. Breakfast, nice and hot, check. Just the way Papa liked it. Good. Megha carried the breakfast tray with the tea and newspaper into the living room and walked in on a horrific sight. No, it was not a crime scene or anything like that, but that almost might have been preferable.
The phone was ringing, and she recognized the number in the caller ID. She should, she had punched it in so many times... Uh-oh. She hurriedly set down the tray on the coffee table and lunged for the phone. "I'll get it, Papa, don't worry –"
Double uh-oh. She was too late. Narayan Shankar, while smiling at her for her 'consideration', told her it was no trouble and picked up the phone himself. "Hello?"
Megha turned away and walked in what she hoped was a normal way, back into her room. Only then did she screw her eyes shut and lean her hot forehead against her cool window. They were so, so busted. After all Papa had taught her about telling the truth... Well, she reasoned with herself, she hadn't exactly lied... she just hadn't told him anything. Which was just as bad, really. But it didn't matter now; Raj had probably blown their cover.
Suddenly seized by a fearful idea, she picked up the phone in her room to eavesdrop over the extension.
"Good, that's great!" she heard a warm, familiar voice say. Just the sound of that voice brought a smile to her face. For a moment, her fear melted away. How could anyone not love him? "So we've established that you, indeed, are Mr. Narayan Shankar and you live in this house, correct?"
"Yes, that's right." Her father sounded impatient. "Now who the heck are you?" Megha tried not to laugh. Always to-the-point, that was her Papa. Then the full enormity of the question sunk in. She bit her bottom lip. How on earth was Raj to reply to that? 'I'm Priya, Megha's friend from school?' As if.
"I am Raj and I was just wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your existing phone connections and any Airtel offers you might be interested in taking up?" Megha could sense her father's annoyance at this moment, even though he didn't get a chance to say anything. Without waiting for a reply (after all, silence is consent, no?), Raj continued. "Great! Are you interested in becoming an Airtel customer? Because we have many great offers for landlines, mobiles and Internet connec –"
Her father cut him off. "No, thank you. We're not interested – we have perfectly good phone connections."
"Ah, but wait just a moment, sir! An Airtel landline is vastly superior to other landlines. With Airtel you get to experience far superior voice clarity on our fibre-optic framework. Or perhaps you would like to hear about our fantastic mobile offers, both prepaid and billed?" Megha stifled her giggle. What a salesman – he almost had her convinced to switch to Airtel.
"We are really not interested –"
"Thank you for answering my questions, sir. For more information, please do visit our website, www.airtel.in! Have a nice day!" Raj, Megha mused, was probably the first telemarketer in history who hung up on his customer.
She walked slowly back into the living room, trying to act normally. "Who was that on the phone, Papa?" she asked as innocently as she could. "Was it Bahadur? Because I forgot to tell you, he told me he was feeling ill today, so I made you breakfast instead."
Her father smiled at her tiredly. "No, it wasn't Bahadur. It was some idiot of a salesman, bothering me to switch to Airtel, not letting me enjoy the breakfast made for me by my favourite daughter in the world."
Megha hugged him tightly. "Papa, I'm your only daughter," she pointed out, smiling.
"So?" her father said gruffly, in mock indignation. "Does that mean you can't be my favourite?"
Megha blinked away the prickly feeling in her eyes as he ruffled her hair. She couldn't keep on lying or telling half-truths to Papa anymore. She would tell him soon, she resolved. But first she had to talk to a certain lovable telemarketer.
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A/N: So? Like it? Hate it? Please let me know – review!