You and a girl you have been into for a while are making out after a night of partying. You end up going down on her and after a while she asks “Do you have a condom?” Being the seasoned love-stud you are, you take out your just-in-case rubber. After opening it she says “Wait, I don’t think I like you that much yet. But you can keep going if you want.”
Holding out hope for a little, you continue to please her. Then you start to hint for her to return the favor in one way or another, to which she replies “Sorry, I think penises are gross, so I can’t. Are you not having fun or something?”
You emphatically deny and continue until she is satified/bored/passes out and you’re SOL. In the morning, you wake up to her gone with a note/text that says “Thanks. I’ll give you a call sometime.”
A few weekends later, she gets drunk, she calls you, rinse and repeat.

Don’t they have that plot in Bollywood?

For instance, she would always be reminded of their passionate threesome with his pal Thesaurus every time she hears Neil Young’s “Synonym Girl.”