The sun was out today, after a teary eyed sky had finally composed itself. The weather forecast had predicted a bright and sunny weekend. Clouds still lingered in swirls and dabs, in blurred lines around the sun, like someone finger painted the sky. The light clouds made funny patterns. One looked like a lizard’s rib-cage. Diksha was out in the balcony with a newspaper in one hand and a cup of herbal tea in the other. Every now and then she looked up when birds chirped excitedly in the nearby trees. Morning was her favorite time of the day. She loved the first breeze on her face.

She kept the paper and tea cup on the floor and stood up with her arms spread like a bird, her eyes closed, under the affectionate rays of the sun. Just when she was about to sit down with her paper, she heard a thumping sound from her room. She peered into her room to find Michael banging his fist against his table. 

‘What is it Michael? What are you doing?’ she asked. She stood at the doorway. Michael was sitting on his chair.   

‘O-h-m-y-G-o-d,’ Michael said, breaking every word like he was just learning to talk.

‘What happened?’ Diksha irritably shifted her weight on the other leg.  She knew what he was talking about, but she hoped that he was for once cribbing about real issues.

‘Nothing. I got nothing.’ Michael pointed at the computer and shrugged his shoulders so as to tell her he can’t believe what he was seeing.

‘It’s only been a day Michael,’ she said, stretching his name, trying to pacify him. He always got impatient and would act out in this manner.

‘But look at the others. They have a few already, even though they put it here after me.’ His eyes were glued to the screen and he scrolled up and down by running his index finger on the mouse wheel. He kept refreshing the screen, in the hope to see at least one.

‘It’s ok. They must be busy or something. They must’ve thought they will do yours later. They must’ve run out of time.’ She said these lines often. They were getting repetitive and it was getting harder to calm Michael with the same excuses.

‘I think they don’t like my stuff anymore. I must be getting worse.’ He picked up a pencil and nervously chewed its end.

‘No Michael. That’s not true. You are very good and I know it. I like your stuff.’ Diksha was hoping it would make him feel a little better. 

‘You’re my girlfriend. You’ll always like my stuff. You are biased,’ he replied. He was looking at some of his earlier work.

‘Excuse me? OK, here’s what I honestly think. I think you just try too hard sometimes. You don’t let other people think for themselves. You always try to show them what you think is right.’ Diksha had stepped in, and was standing diagonally to him, her arms crossed. Michael turned his swivel chair towards her, both upset and hurt.     

‘Oh, so is this what you really think? And all this while you’ve been giving me pity critiques? You didn’t like them at all? Oh my God Dikhsha and I thought you were being honest to me.’

‘So now you can’t take the truth? That’s my point. I am honest with you all the time. I don’t like something, I tell you so.’

‘I am sorry. I am just tense. I shouldn’t be getting mad at you. I think they want me to quit. They want me out of their world. I am not good enough to be amongst them anymore. That’s what it is.’ Michael was speaking fast, his head and eyes flitting about the screen nervously. 

‘Stop running yourself down like this. You’ve to believe in yourself first for others to believe in you.’ She was feeling guilty for blasting him like that. She knew he was working very hard.

‘Then why am I not getting any?’ he asked with a big question mark on his face.

‘Did you help others sort out their issues?’

‘Yes! I did. I told them what I thought. And not like a sham critique, a real one. I even pointed out the errors.’ Michael clicked on the links to show Dikhsha that he wasn’t lying.

‘I believe you dummy. May be…’ she’d thought of something to say, but she found it hard to recollect what her point was, then she did. She said, ‘May be they are selfish. And when they see that you’ve been consistently nice to them, they will have a change of heart and be nice to you too.’

‘But you know, it is shouldn’t be a give and take kind of a thing. They should say something nice only when they really like it, not because they wanted to return a favor. You know what I mean?’

‘Yeah I know. But that’s how it is I guess. But I am sure they still like you.’

‘I don’t know. The people, who used like me, are now loyal to others. Do you think they are bored of me? Have I become boring?’ A look of worry made irregular folds on his forehead.

‘Stop it Michael. Nobody thinks you are boring. And what can you do anyway? You can’t force them, can you? Just be happy with what you get and keep doing your job.’ Diksha combed his hair with her fingers. She was standing, and he was still seated. 

‘No I can’t anything. Ooh, may be I should post a request?’ he said, his eyes excited with the thought.

‘I am sorry to say this but that would seem desperate Michael. You shouldn’t let them know that it is affecting you. Be strong and take it in your stride. Be brave,’ she said, kissing the top of his head.   

‘OK, I will try,’ he said. He looked at the floor.

‘Now get up, take a shower and ready for work.’ Do something that actually pays you.          

‘May be I will check again in the evening,’ he said, before heading out.

In the evening…

‘Diksha there is no connectivity. I am not able to access the internet. Shit, shit, shit,’ Michael bawled, even before he changed.

‘Some problem, it will get fixed only by morning. I called the ISP provider. They said the problem is from their end,’ she replied, coming out of the kitchen.

‘Tch! Such silly problems even in today’s time. Incompetent assholes,’ he said, kicking the floor.

‘Calm down. It won’t go anywhere. Be patient till morning,’ she said.

Michael kept turning in his bed, unable to sleep. When he couldn’t take it, he turned his computer on to try the connection, it still hadn’t been fixed.

‘Goddamnit,’ he said, gritting his teeth and went back to bed.

 He woke up at six a.m. and hurried to his computer, switched it on and enabled his wireless connection. He clicked on the icon once. Nothing happened. So he clicked it again, by which time the first click had responded, so a message flashed on the screen, A connection process is already in progress,’ it said, as if pitying his dumbness – politely trying to say – ‘have some patience egghead, I am no superman.’ 

Excited to have the net back, he eagerly typed Greatwriting.co.uk and patiently waited for the site to load. But there was still nothing.

The hits column read thirty, and the review column read zero.