Hi, I am Rohan. I am not cool. Yup, I just repeated what you have already read. You must be thinking why am I telling you all this?

Who exactly am I? Where do I belong?

First things first, I am just an imaginary being who might live only till the end of this article. I might resemble you. I might not. But chances are that you might relate my thoughts with that of my creator. That is up to you. However, I don’t like getting associated with that lousy fellow.

I was seven when I first realised it. Since then there has been no turning back. One of my friends bought a video game. I was happy in the beginning, but then he stole something from me which I didn’t even know existed in me. I was not cool anymore. 

Fast forward five years, one day we were waiting for a friend to come out and play. He came out more happy than usual. Before I could ask the reason for it, another friend of mine said, “Wow, that’s a cool T-shirt.”

“That’s what Colonial Cousins wore in their last album.” You could have charged your mobile phone batteries with his pride beaming face at that moment.

I was again robbed of something which I still didn’t know existed in me. How can this happen again? What am I missing?

I even went back home and asked my mother who were Colonial Cousins? She told me there are no Colonial Cousins, only good cousins. I was impressed as my mother was also cool. But then it again left me wondering, where exactly is this cool factor which everyone snatches from me? 

I did the most logical thing thereafter, I stripped! Yes, I checked my body, the precious holy temple which I thought was being attacked. I checked at all places but couldn’t find it. My body was all normal. Maybe some other day, I told myself and went away. (Obviously, after wearing clothes. Stop fantasizing, I am only 12 at this point.)

Five years later, I was waiting outside the coaching centre. Someone just parked his brand new Yamaha R15 in the parking, adjusted his side-parted hair and went straight to the class. Behind him went the soft collective murmur, “Wow, he is so cool!”

I immediately ran to the washroom, locked the room and started observing so that I could visually see the coolness parting away from me. I failed again. 

This was proving to be tougher than preparing for IIT-JEE. There were no visible signs of any organ or any other composite section which could hold this ‘cool factor’. I even consulted my friends who were studying Biology; even they were perplexed with my question. 

I got my hands on internet equipped phone when I entered college. You know the first thing I did with it? Looked for the songs of Gangs of Wasseypur on YouTube. After that, I tried to look for the answer of how to be cool. 

It gave me all sorts of answers but not what I was looking for. The internet didn’t have all the answers back then. So far in the past 11 years, I had grown into an individual who the government trusted enough to allow me to vote. I only liked listening to Linkin Park as I could not understand what the other songs meant. Ordering at McDonald’s in English was the toughest thing I could imagine. My prowess in literature was limited to the world of Chetan Bhagat. I had also learnt that you could fold your shirt sleeves up, just three years earlier. 

I was different in many ways and certainly not cool. While trying to figure out life, I was particularly curious about the cool factor. Days went by and I learnt quite a few things; particularly from people who I thought were super cool. With each day I was becoming restless. I badly wanted someone to return my coolness. 

One fine day, on my way back home a group of friends were hustling with each other on geographical facts. Typical nerds, I thought. One of them told everyone else how much he loved the movie Madagascar. On hearing this, the eyes of the girl seated next to him sparkled and with all the envious enthusiasm of the world, she asked the group if someone knew the capital of Madagascar. 

Here are some statistics. Two out of those seven couldn’t believe that Madagascar was a real place. Three out of seven were clueless about the answer and one of them tried his luck thrice but couldn’t succeed. Without any reason, I blurted out ‘Antananarivo’. 

“Wow! I’ve asked this question so many times and no one could answer it. This is so cool.” The girl who had asked it told me with disbelief and surprise in her eyes. 

The remaining journey back home was uncomfortable for me. How is knowing an obscure fact cool? That’s it? Really? I wasted 11 years looking for it and this is the answer! This is such an anti-climax. (Still couldn’t beat the anti-climax in this article’s ending.)

The fact of the matter is that it takes a cool human to identify another cool human. And all cool is not the same. Your cool is different from my cool. Some are cooler while the others are an AC. (Bad pun alert!)

The fact that something like Antananarivo could get me the badge of being cool implies that you can be called cool by merely asking for two-litres of milk from the vendor instead of the norm of two kg. 

And if you carefully observe, Rohan is definitely not a cool guy. What kind of a weirdo goes to a washroom to check if ‘coolness’ rubbed off him? Such a dork. Imagine living with such a guy. Ugh!