This story is on the same lines as the 24 hrs one and with the same characters.Friday:"So when will you be leaving?", she asked him.
"Sunday evening and back by next friday night", he stated somewhat uncertainly.
"Okay, all the best for your workshop", she said and extended her hand catching him completely in surprise. Shaking hands was not something they had ever done before and his countenance completely betrayed his opinion about it while they carried out the formality
Thursday:He was watching the cricket match. India seemed to be losing despite having the opposition 7 down quite early. This end to an insipid day at the workshop didn't exactly exhilarate his mood. Then, he felt his mobile phone buzz inside his pocket. He was expecting her call though without any explicate reason. They had talked only twice the past week, perhaps that made him certain that she would call tonight.
Yes, it was indeed her. But before, he could press yes, the call ended. So, he proceeded to call her, but once again, before he could press the green button, his mobile started flashing her incoming call. This time, he did accept it on time.
"Hi!", his voice was sweet but tired.
"Hi!! thanks a lot!!", she sounded extremely excited about something.
"Eh? for picking up the phone?", he enquired trying to sound funny.
"I got them. They are wonderful! But what's the ocassion?", she blurted.
"Eh?" , was all that she got in return from him for all her enthusiasm.
"The flowers duffer! I just got them, they are huge!" she rambled on.
"Flowers?", he was not being able to register what was going on.
"Yeah mister. You needn't put up an act. The delivery guy spilled the beans", she stated emphatically.
"Eh? flowers? delivery? who sent?", he still didn't seem to get the picture.
"You did!! But seriously so many!! Must have cost a fortune", she was finding herself in the strange position of trying to elaborate his own actions to him.
"What? I sent flowers to you??", and with this he burst out laughing so loudly that he had to leave the room so as not to disturb the more serious cricket spectators around.
"Come on, the delivery guy told your name. Ofcourse they were meant to be anonymous, but I got the name out of him", she said trying to justify her achievement.
"The delivery guy told you my name? Are you sure? Did you even get any flowers!", he continued laughing at the whole absurdity of it all.
"Almost 50 of them! and he did say your name. I dont know anyone else whose name even sounds remotely like yours. So it got to be you.", she persisted.
Finally, he started thinking seriously, trying to remember if he did indeed order some flowers. Perhaps yesterday, when he was slightly drunk after the banquet? Once again he started laughing. Not only had he not ordered flowers yesterday, he had never sent flowers to anyone all his life! And even if he had to do something extraordinary like this, he would do it online. But, he had been crippled without a net connection for the whole duration of this workshop. So it was practically impossible that he should have sent any flowers to anyone!
"Seriously, are you kidding?", he asked perhaps hoping she was trying to pull a fast one on him.
"Well, you can see with your own eyes tomorrow when you return", she stated matter-of-factly.
"But why would I send you flowers?", he wondered out loud.
"I have no idea. I first thought someone must be playing a prank, but it would be such a costly prank. Such a big bouquet will cost around 100$.", she revealed.
"It makes sense that you get anonymous flowers, after all you are so popular.", he teased, "but why would anyone send it with my name!! A weird prank it would be. Hey, maybe its Dummy?"
"Yah, I thought so too when the delivery guy told me your name. Then, I called Dummy to look at the flowers and he was more dumbstruck than me. So, it can't be him. Anyway why would he send flowers under your name?", she explained.
"Why would anyone do such a thing anyway! And when did you get the flowers?"
"At 8".
"And its 9 now. Why didn't you call earlier?", he questioned her.
"I was trying to figure out who must have sent the flowers", she answered.
At this, he changed track, "What? you said the delivery guy supplied my name. So what was the doubt then? And despite that, how could you first think it was Dummy and not me??"
"Yeah, but it seemed so improbable, so I was wondering if your officemates were playing a prank or something."
"My officemates? They have no idea where you live and I cant visualise any of them doing such a thing either. But seriously, if the guy told you it was me, why didnt you believe him? Am I not capable of sending you flowers??", after saying this he realised he had no idea what he was trying to convey.
"Well, I think its you, thats why I called you. So thanks for the flowers", she said but without conviction.
"I would love to take the credit if I could", he said further complicating matters.
"So, you havent sent the flowers? If not you, I need to find out who sent them", she tried to clarify.
"I could have sent them", he stated ambiguously.
"Well, thank you if you have sent them, otherwise thank whoever sent them. And bye for now, talk to you tomorrow", she said obviously miffed with him.
"Ahan, bye goodnight.", was all that he could manage while his mind was furiously trying to figure out how to respond to such unwarranted, unexpected, undeserving gratitude.
Faced with the strange dilemma of whether to untruthfully accept the claim that he is the sender and create mystery around his 'actions' or whether to rightfully reject the credit and turn attention to the actual mystery of the unaccounted flowers, he went back to watch the match and witness an Indian win.
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