1. Valentine’s Day Surprise Cruise
2. 6 May – And we graduated! Missed mom dad but basked in the comforting warmth of A who stood by me like a rock during all the troubling times.
3. 2 September – Big day for daddy’s lil girl. I know he is proud of me for expanding my purchasing horizon wider than shoes and dresses.
4. 28 October – Glimpse of the oasis. There is a silver lining to all dark clouds. Light at the end of a four year old bumpy tunnel stretch.
5. 5 November – A ‘ground breaking’ day.

Frank and Saloni – For being a mentor for our new challenge. For being the ones who knew what we were going through. For opening their house and their heart to us. A special polar bear hug to Suhaan. Let’s go to Bunnings * repeat 10,000 times.

Mridu – For hearing me out. For being the first person to actually tell me I am her Best Friend *weeps*. For giving me an advanced birthday present because I deserved it (rightly so!). For being the kid sister I never had. Love you Mridu from the bottom of my heart. I missed you SO SO SO much.

Pyar Mein Hai Jeevan Ki Khushi, Deti Hai Khushi Kai Gham Bhi
Main Maan Bhi Loon Kabhi Haar. Tu Maane Na

Yes. I was sane enough not to finish watching the catastrophy thy name Ra.One. I am keen to know in which parallel universe is this a movie SRK created for kids with the disgusting sexual innuendos! Seriously, the moment I read this line in a review – ‘Kareena was shown sprinkling the ‘ash’ after they have buried the dead body’ I knew I won’t be watching it. EVER! But I still saw 20 minutes of this puke inducing movie after I challenged A that I’d rather watch Ra.One TWICE than watch Himes’ Dammadamm. I actually liked Dammadamm.

Each day Sal performed with other students. He often forgot his lines and joked over his age. Other students ignored his antics and didn’t say much as they respected him for his craft. Sal performed while breathing under the skin of his character. The faculty and old students kept debating what stopped him from making it big in life.

Ray silently observed Sal and while exasperating, he questioned his own talent. He contrasted the paths Sal and he had taken. He probed the purpose of enrolling in the institute. He was given a time frame of six months to learn and absorb as much as he could. Sal was his creative threat and creative inspiration. Within next two months he was to be launched. Expectations and comparison to his stalwart family were least of his worries. What constantly pinched was the fact that he knew he was not made for the craft. Sal’s techniques made him wonder if this is what he really wanted.

Being naturally talented often demands the need for being in the right place and at the right time. The constant introspection of ‘was this the original plan’ is a terrible way to spoil evenings and nights. Even after mastering a craft for years, one may get the nervous pangs. The pangs poke fun when we face continuous rejection. Was Ray right in pursuing an art he was not made for but destined for? Was Sal right in pursuing an art he was made for but not destined for?

Sal silently observed Ray and while exasperating, he questioned his destiny. He knew Ray had no innate traits but the acquired trait of his family name over weighed any other flaws in his career path. Within next two months Ray was to be launched. The sting of jealousy bit Sal but didn’t encourage him to fight with the routine. There were some moments where he gathered and absorbed the notion of self-belief that he was better than him. Such moments quickly withered away whenever he saw Ray’s name in the newspaper. Sal continued to act.

Both were leading each other’s life swapped as a terrible joke. Both of them kept wasting evenings and nights fighting with the ghosts of past’s plans.

Why most of the times we end up being the mediocre person? Why fame eludes those who escape the luck line? Why do we keep hanging on the hope for that one chance that will re-write our destiny? Why is that most of the times we keep being the average person people notice but don’t know about?

Why is that we lack the awareness of what we truly want and how we are going to attain it? Sal was too engrossed in avoiding these questions.

====================================================================
Currently listening to – Har Taraf Har Jagah Beshumaar aadmi, phir bhi tanhaiyon ka shikaar aadmi // Zindagi ka muqaddar safar dar safar aakhri saans tak bekaraar aadmi

I was obviously very late for my coaching class so I thought of buying garland and offering to the idol. I asked her name. She giggled and said- ‘Dolly’. Her enthusiasm was reflecting brighter than the soil on her torn frock and larger than her small frame. She quickly took the five rupee coin and kept it safely inside her basket. She took a piece of newspaper and quickly rolled a garland with white twine. I secretly wished if I could solve the data interpretation questions with the speed with which she tied the twine around the paper. I went inside the temple and actually prayed for my success in the CAT examination.

She was talking to another young boy when I came out. She was saying with great prominence that her garlands were a proved key to success in the Devi maa temple. The boy nodded and immediately gave her a ten rupee note.

I went to her and asked her why is she not attending school. She looked at me and answered in her same feeble voice- ‘Baba got his leg amputated in the factory……how can I go to the school..who will feed my little brother?‘. I was about to ask her another question when she spotted another young girl and yelled- ‘Aye didi‘. She went to her and came back with ten rupees.

Before I could talk to her anymore I saw Dolly walking to an old man and saying -’Baba buy garlands for devi - your children will take care of you’.

I wasn’t interested in her sad little story or her struggle for survival. I wasn’t feeling any pity also. I was sure of her because I knew she was an MBA with specialization in life. Her marketing concepts were far clearer than mine. She knew advertising and knew her target audience very well. Her positioning strategy was clear and she was already an expert in Consumer Behavior. And here I was standing wondering over fate of even getting an admission in a reputed institute. I looked at the remaining flower petals which Pujari ji had given me and thought- may be I still have a chance!

 A half-hearted hello was said to that child while laughing over a repeated joke heard near the pantry. A half interested glance was given to the several glossy magazines that enjoyed the freedom on the breakout room table. The pool table and dart board reminded him of several bets that were placed in one life time that was lived a long ago. Some old friends found place in the instant messenger window. The chat engine never encouraged him to connect with them. The banalities of conversation gave him another excuse to submit his aspiration to struggles of his daily life.

 It is not that that he didn’t try to let the inner child win or take over. He tried. But the taken for granted achievements of his job title and monthly e-payments gagged him. The achievements mocked him when he took a look outside the office window. The people on the streets were walking in leisurely motion. He could have swapped places but he was being mauled by the responsibilities that the recent appraisal got in. The clients were the ones who talked to him at length and his team was the one who listened to him for too long. Although, ‘was he heard’ was a discarded question altogether.

The evenings were spent dragging himself to the vacant apartment. It was never his home. Several channels were flicked and nothing could amuse him. The frozen meals were heated and dishes were done. The refrigerator was searched for something more to satiate his hungry inner child. Any amount of ice cream or frozen pie couldn’t satiate it. It was as if the inner child wanted more than a sweet dish. It was as if the inner child wanted some time off from the life he was allegedly leading. It was as if he wanted to backpack across an unknown continent. It was as if he wanted to escape the captivity of social networks that guaranteed anything but connection. It was as if he wanted to yell once and tell others to shut up. It was as if he wanted to slower the pace of world that zoomed in front of him.

 It was as if he wanted to give a jolt to reality.

  ==============================================================================

 Currently listening to – Hey You ~ Pink Floyd

Frivolous thoughts crossed her mind. Of checking his old text messages and the several old voice messages on the answering machine. There was again a struggle to find a tone that assured her he was pining for her as well. The fake self-assurance and the burden of her forgiving attitude was driving her towards finding a new level in the courtship. She knew that this has been cruel to her and him. To find a comforting voice or a calm assurance was the sole motive left. Love indeed does strange things to you. It might make you happy but with it, it brings a whole new set of illogical arguments that gets you to support any idea or thought that will make you feel assured that the other person is an equal stakeholder as well. It makes you calculate fake assumptions that the other person knows you as much you want him to know you. This is where the expectation nudged in.

Expectations and calculated assumptions tethered the sanctity of their relationship on the public front. On the personal front, it had reached the status of ‘taken for granted’. The over confidence of not ever losing touch and keeping the flame alive was stamped with a degree of surmountable trust. They had reached a point where they knew what words were coming out of each other’s lips and what thoughts crossed each other’s mind. The predictability had created rough edges around their daily communication. This is where the void peeped in.

Emptiness was always there. But this time it was different. It was sonorous and pricked their hope of making things work like the last time. He knew that the status quo of hope was a banality that any long term distance guaranteed to its holders. He had spent many dull evenings being carefully careless to avoid another mock confrontation of saying a vacuum laminated I love you. She had also felt her stone eyes devoid of any more emotions. The tethering was a continuum for him as it brought stability to his severely routined life. The tethering was a continuum for her as it occasionally brought tears to her stoned eyes.

This is where the commitment swayed in.

 ====================================================================== 
Currently listening to Tera Bina Zindagi Se Koi Shikwa To Nahi (Aandhi)

 Story title is as per Fubar69’s 100 blog topics. (Topic #31)

When ever I have read these cases one case has always come back to haunt me. I first read about this case probably in 1998 (I was in junior high) and it shocked me completely. Not because of its sheer brutality or the sadness that it endowed upon me but because of the fact that justice was given but it was frugal. She was clearly forgotten just because back then there were no candle march supports or innumerable 24×7 news channel to take up this case as a constant ticker on their prime timeline.

Nurse Aruna Shanbaug was raped on 01 November 1973 by ward boy Sohanlal Walmiki while she was changing clothes after finishing her shift. Sounds not so special yet but read more. He choked her with a dog collar that cut-off oxygen supply to her brain. Aruna has been a vegetable since then. She cannot speak, emote, use her limbs or control her muscles. For 33 years, she’s been living a vegetative existence on a bed in KEM hospital. (Source: TOI). The attacker was initially sentenced to seven years sentence which was later reduced to six as one year was served in the lock-up. The court did not even tried him for rape. I am not discussing the details of the gory act that he did as it makes my fingers shiver.

So you were moved by Hrithik’s performance in Guzaarish? Please note that Aruna’s plight will make us cringe in disbelief. She is blind, has to be fed, changed, cleaned and practically be taken care of for every single thing in life. Aruna is over 60 years now and has been a vegetable for almost 36 years now. Talking of the worst thing that could happen was her own family deserted her. Her fiancé however took care of her till he also got married.

Upon his release from jail, Walmiki shifted his base to Delhi and is leading a normal life. He must be a grand-dad by now. Yes, the animal who brought such calamity to Aruna’s life is living a peaceful life. Why wouldn’t this kind of information evoke a sentiment that made an NID student attack SPS Rathore just outside the court? it evokes similar emotions inside me as well.

Pinki Virani is currently writing a book on Aruna’s life and has moved to Supreme Court with a plea for mercy-killing. 

What is the future for Aruna? More so what is the future of such ailing vicitms? Will we ever really get to know who killed Aarushi? Will there be more over-dramatic bollywood portrayal of more Jessicas or  Priyadarshinis and over the top TV serials to depict cases like Ruchika.

You must be wondering why I am actually writing this post. Is it because I had to write something to show my aggression after the current media frenzy over Aarushi Talwar murder case or just because No One Killed Jessica has released?  I had to write it because in my heart I feel incapable of making any difference to Aruna’s life. I had to write it because somewhere we have forgotten her and few more.

How safe are we outside our homes and inside our homes? How safe are we at our schools, colleges, workplaces or public transport? If at all a crime is committed will justice be served? Will it be not delayed? Will it be not frugal?

Now that you’ve finished this post, all I can ask you is say a quick prayer for Aruna. She may not realize what all has transpired after that ill-fated night but somewhere she needs a prayer for taking new birth in an era where she will leave a normal life with a husband and some kids she planned in this life.

Amen.

=====================================================

UPDATE

Update on the euthanasia plea is available here (Source: TOI). A panel of doctors have observed her situation and has confirmed that she is in a permanent vegetative state. However, the nursing staff feels she is not leading a painful life and expresses by some sounds.

Kudos to the nurses and hospital staff of KEM Hospital. May god bestow his choicest blessings upon you.

I will continue to update this post.

Suggested Related Readings by the author:

Here’s to you girls – be alarmed.

Parents killed Daughter?

Marital Rape ~ Clock Strikes One (fictional story)

Pic couresy: Frontline

___________________________________________________________________

Story idea came after looking at the picture above (courtesy: Eternal Click of a Spotless Lense ~ I saw, I captured).

That first look of love is inked on our heart forever. What was your first look of love like?  Share.

-md610

Currently Listening To: Jaane Yeh Kya Hua ~ KK (Karthik Calling Karthik)

Tumhein hai pata, maine pehli baar jo dekha tumhein, Mujhe yeh laga chahun bhi to kaise pa sakunga Tumhein, Sapna tha ek din to main hoon tum ho Tum dheere se bolo, Tumko apna mana hai, Dekho hona hai Aur kya?

Please to be not throwing any nasty brickbats – for that start your own blog. Apart from that suggestions/ perky statements are heartily invited in the comments section.

Top 5 Cliched movies of 2010

1. Pyaar Impossible - Solo hit for Uday impossible. Another movie that just about proves Priyanka Chopra is entirely a director’s muse. Without them she is pretty much a sore-eye material.

2. I hate Luv Storys - The entire movie was cliched except a few dialogues that induced laughter. Music was the saving grace. Sonam literally sleep walked through the entire movie. Who can forget the legendary war of tweets between Punit Malhotra and Shobhaa De?

3.Anjaana Anjaani - So you take Priyanka Chopra post this discovery of being PV Narsimha Rao’s relative. She has proved her nick name Piggy Chops right. She has actually looked like a pig with that horrible lip job. Ranbir oh Ranbir is the only eye candy. Aas Paas Hai Khuda is the only good thing about this major cliched flick.

4. Chance Pe Dance - Shahid’s biggest problem is he tries TOO HARD in his roles that it looks like a pathetic caricature instead. Terrible execution and fail script.

5. Housefull - One day I would like to understand the forced humour courtesy the laughter gas. I hope Saajid Khan gets a bit sane with his next one. Dude you cannot  poke fun at other directors while you churn up the same ol’ shit to the audience. This movie shares the dias with another Akki starrer.
Khatta Meetha - As Masand said, this movie is indeed a schizophernic movie. You expect us to laugh right after the lead supporting actress is brutally murdered?  And Akki we are allergic to bullshit. Sad you used Sir RK Laxman to promote this cheap flick.

Top 5 movies that are so bad that they are good

1.Veer - Oh c’mon don’t tell me you are over those Kat look alike jokes on the overweight Zarine Khan.

2.Get Educated:Paathshaala – I was actually laughing at the dialogs of this movie. What was with Ayesha’s role? I really want to probe further. Shahid was his usual CLICHE self. He tries so HARD that it sucks.

3. Aisha -  Still trying to get over Sonam Kapoor’s Retweets about the ‘alleged’ box office collection. The entire movie was a larger than life fashion show. C’mon Arjun *fans her face with hand*

4.We are Family – Yes you DO NOT cast Arjun Rampal sandwiched between Kajol and Kareena – who by the portrays almost the real life role in this movie. Pbbbttt Sara and Ibrahim’s daayan. it was not Kajol it was indeed the audience who died by the end of this epic failure.

5.Hissssss - I don’t exactly know the exact number of S in the title neither I know what made Irrfan Khan sign this movie. But the dialogs are legendary. I highly recommend it on a crazy crazy Saturday night with beer in tow.

Dabbaang - No you cannot give a number to this movie. Its a sheer guilty pleasure. With the B grade dialogs and Munni Badnaam Hui song ladies and gentleman we clearly have a winner here. If you have fainted by now, try sniffing some phus phus.
Top 5 surprise packages that made us proud

1. Love, Sex aur Dhokha – Dibakar Banerjee nailed it yet again. A super strong script, rocking and stellar performance by caste and hat-ke execution.

2. Peepli [Live] – The movie that talked about a lot without being too preachy. A rare dark comedy after Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron. Kudos to Anusha Rizvi. Good luck Aamir for the Oscars. I hope you bury the hatchet with Anusha.

3. Do Dooni Chaar - One of those light feel good movies that makes you reminisce about tough time your family would have faced in past. Remarkable chemistry by my favorite on-screen jodi – Rishi Kapoor and Neetu Singh. Duggals rock!

4.Phas Gaye Re Obama - Smart Script. These were the two words that popped into my head once I finished watching this movie. Stellar performance by Manu Rishi.

5.Udaan - This is clearly my favourite movie ever. Its hard to see such layered and real-life characters in hindi film industry. Ronit Roy makes your jaws dropped. Amit Trivedi’s legendary music and Amitabh Bhattacharya’s lyrics will leave you feeling positive. Do check the IMDB trivia. Click on the movie title or here.

Top 5 duds

1. Kites - Seriously, what was the fuss all about? Even the alleged romance between Mori and Hrithik couldn’t make this a success. Music was a big big big letdown.

2. Raavan - Why oh why? This movie was a visual treat with OTT acting by Abhishek Bachchan (later on conveniently supported by Papa Bachchan). Music received mixed response from the ARR fanatics.

3. Prince….its showtime – Yes a sequel is planned. You can kill me now. Viveik Sleazy Oberoi’s maha epic drama with not one, not two but three heroines left us crying for our money back. You saw this FDFS? Yes I am judging you right there.

4. Teen Patti - So you take Mr. Bachchan, Ben Kingsley and R.Madhavan and ruin a perfect caste. Its almost a federal offence that can lead you to punishment to watch Himes’ Radio and Kajra Re back to back.

5. Action Replayy – not even the star cast nor the interesting genre could save this Vipul Amrut Shah’s presentation from the audience who literally got Zor Ka Jhatka.

Top 5 OSTs

1. I hate luv Storys – Movie was a big cliche but the soundtrack is peppy, soothing and has songs to match all genres.

2. Aisha - Oh c’mon it gave us Gal Mitthi Mitthi bol and the haunting Lehrein and the soothing Shaam. Brilliant work by Amit Trivedi again.

3. Karthik Calling Karthik – Every guy’s wish should be to sing Jaane Ye Kya Hua to the love of his life. Uff teri Ada IS the dance floor song of 2010. Hey Ya was mushness personified and the title track haunting.

4. Udaan - Kahaani Khatam hai ya shuruwaat hone ko hai? Each and every track is a master piece. Positive lyrics and Amit Trivedi’s tunes will leave you wanting to hear it on infinite loop.

5. Guzaarish - Sau Gram Zindagi has been on loop playlist and so has O Saiba. Tera Zikr still leaves us hopelessly in love.

AND YES leaving you with…..Top 5 Dance Numbers for your New Year’s  Party List

1. Munni Badnaam Hui
2. Uff Teri Adaa
3. Sheila Ki Jawaani
4. Gal Mitthi Mitthi Bol/ Zor Ka Jhatka
5. Ainvayi Ainvayi Lut Gaya

Leaving you with a poll to solicit response for best 2010 flick.

Have a spectacular 2011 folks. Enjoy the party season. Be safe!

Taking a minute out to ponder over the list was something that she was carefully avoiding. There were things that were far important than cursing how humid it was that day or how the room reeked of that smell. She gathered those last three items and looked at them for couple of minutes. There were countless memories attached with them, funny anecdotes and priceless tags too. Her phone was ringing and she looked around to reach for her handbag. Her mother had been calling her and she was avoiding her like the list. ‘Hello, yes mother I am fine. Yeah I am still at the apartment. No, they aren’t here. Yes I ate something. No, I didn’t see your previous calls. Yes, I will call you as soon as I will reach there. She stopped to hear another round of twenty questions dreading she’d say that any moment now.

It all started with when she first told her about the whole thing. At first she thought she had her at the customary affirmative nod. She was wrong like always. Her mother’s queer view on just about everything and about this whole thing was much expected. To avoid it and yet be a part of the tension in the room was her skill. That evening came to an end with them saying good bye to each other while she looked at her wrinkled face and a look that said what she always dread.

Yes mother, I have kept everything. Yes, I have called them up to confirm. Initially it sounded like a convenient option to just respond in monosyllables but that was perhaps a bit rude considering the sanctity of the relationship and the assumption of protocols it carried. She was now waiting for her to end the call so that she could  scream loudly and throw her scratched cell phone to the wall as soon as the dreaded phrase was uttered. It had taken another three minutes thirty-six seconds for her to say that.

The phone was damaged beyond repair, a fact that made her happy in a far corner of heart. That dreadful phrase had ruined too much of it already to have enough corners for happiness. She had learnt her first lesson as a mother of her yet to be conceived child.

She had learnt to be kind enough not to say, ‘ I told you so’.

___________________________________________________________________

Story idea came after looking at the picture above (courtesy: Eternal Click of a Spotless Lense ~ I saw, I captured). I told you so is a cruel phrase. Yes, it is almost like rubbing salt in your wounds. Avoid.

-md610

Trying to sum it down in number of days, weeks, months or years was a practice stopped long back. It was part of him now – a secret that only he knew, a projection that only he could feel, a conundrum that only he wanted to remain unsolved. Sharing it with others was useless, no one had the time, patience and most important the skills to even appreciate its captivating elements. He was the sole audience to the glory of its magnanimous evil wrath.

He tried sharing it with the stranger in the mirror, but that was too absorbed floating in the emotions of self-pity and denial. He knew sharing it with the people of normal race would take away the exclusivity he held. He was one of the very few who chose not to be part of this race. He had painfully tried for several years to project this image. The image had become him. Giving up on the image would defeat the purpose. Giving up on the image would reveal the stranger to him.

He panicked. He shut the door once again.

He could disinter the image he had hidden,

Still he didn’t

 The mere thought melted his pliable heart,

The image was what set him apart,

 He was ready to reveal it all,

In fear not to be abhorred by all,

 The decision was stanch and he was worried

Time to reveal the emotions hidden and buried.

~md610

2007 – that year changed me completely and most of you almost know by now why as most of my posts are related to that one incidence. Why my posts have a similar underlying theme is because on 10 October 2007 this blog was started as an outlet for all the congested emotions that were building up in my heart like a bacteria for too long. This blog was a vent for them. That’s why I chose to wrote under the pseudonym - Fruity – a tribute to salute the effervesence and the undying spirit of a bubbly girl called Mehak who did die in 2007.

During 2006, I had started reading three books (I was in a habit to read multiple books simulataneously) – Life of Pi, Shantaram and The Fountainhead. I had borrowed these from my cousin and friends. While I was packing my stuff before making a big move to New Zealand, I bought the copies of the books so that I could read these.

Circa 2009, the books were still wrapped in their covers, eating dust in the tall boy while I concentrated on writing about my in built emotions. I felt like a prisoner of depression for three years. I felt sad, alone and overall pissed off at these books which most of the times had happy endings. The real characters of people, the real life situations and above all the words craftily said by these people took precedence and nipped my heart several times.

This was the time when reality started looking better than fiction and educated me a lot too.

Its been three years, I have met people who have lost their parents when they were kids or have not even seen their parents. I have met people who have been alone fighting through a disease. I have met people who don’t have fancy things as I do.
I have consoled other people a million times, given them hope and let them smile when I smiled. I know for some people my smile is the reason for their smile. I have written on other blog posts about my own experience and how god is always there. I read the nice little review by her too that made me reminisce about the old times. Trust me there is no better therapy then self therapy.

I have started to forgive myself, I have started to forgive him for ditching that night and not waiting till morning, I have forgiven myself for letting that effervescent girl die a silent death.

11 March 2010, precisely 4 days post the third death anniversary, I picked the book, cleaned the dust using my sleeve and took off the cover and devoured it to let the young girl feed on the characters and words. The Fountainhead is back!

Its almost time when I have outcomed the dark insipid space and taken over to renew the lease of this life! I am going to nurture every bit of it. I am going to do things that I stopped three years ago. I am going to think about me. I am going to read the fiction to face the harsh reality with a new outlook and new take on life! I have finally succeeded to beat the depression. I am a winner in my own right.

 The Pune bomb blast scared the hell out of me. It was around 4am NZT and I read about it on twitter. MrShri tweeted about it. That did make me sad. I was alone that time studying and felt I needed a hug to calm me. I was so scared.

But then things that people (read family or friends) say they do nothing to me now. I have just become so callous. I don’t care who said what/ who didn’t do what/who did do what. I am loving my callousness. Hurt is not felt after a point is reached where the body and mind endured endless hurt that you could never imagine. Be it someone saying nasty and gory things right onto your face or losing your parent.

Pain subsidizes in a while and something else takes its place. A hard hitting feeling where your heart is protected by a thick glass shield. The interiors of heart do not listen or care what is being said and when its not taken inside its thrown right back at the distant person. The callousness is indeed my strongest weapon now.

Only fear being what if the heart becomes resistant to the ones that *I* love. Will it hurt me if they are hurt? Will it pain if they say something to me?

I have stopped caring just about so many things in life. I just listen to what is happening and forget about it the minute the sentence is finished. I don’t care simply ’cause I have learnt to become selfish.

I have learnt that keeping yourself happy is a duty you owe to god and most important yourself!

I have learnt that if you are really sad about something do not make others sad by constantly talking about it. If you are sad for your one child do not become sad during the happiness of the other child. He/she doesn’t deserves it.

I have learnt that no matter how much tears you shed or no matter how much attention you attach to certain people’s perspective they are just not worth it!

I have learnt to say I am fine and stopped my tears coming out from the contours of my eyes and learnt to dry my wet lashes.

My smile is my camouflage and it hides my vulnerable side to the world.

I can proudly say come on – I am ready for brickbats and meanness and nasty-ness.

I am prepared. I have arrived.

Gyanji were looking at her. She was quiet and unusual. She didn’t get him tea this morning. He was worried, he shook her fragile shoulders. She didn’t reply.
54 years and now this deal was broken. He felt angry and betrayed. He felt cheated.

(Image Courtesy : Getty Images)

Music mood : currently playing – Haare haare haare hum to dil se haare (OST – Josh)

He was holding his right cheek and trying to figure out what that kiss meant, when did it happen so suddenly and what did it implied?

(my first attempt at 55ers, a story woven in just 55 words – what do you think?)