Two Decades and Two years

Since past two years, I hadn’t celebrated my birthday with full zest and zeal as other people in my age do. This year, I tried to go for the like. I had been pretty much excited this year, because of the celebrations and the recent great additions to my life. I chose a birthday dress; not one but two for different parties and every morning till the day; I’d wake up to check the calendar dates. When the date arrived; I guess I had completely murdered my excitement because it so felt that it was- just another day in life unlike the calls at 12 am and timeline posts.
The people whom I had expected to greet me with a call or least a text message made it much simpler for me; to kill them in my head because of their hard efforts of posting- “Happy B day”. I personally believe posting on the timelines doesn’t translate into a real wish, especially when Facebook is reminding you that “Oh! You have a person in your list too”.
I began my day with a friend who is new to his day job and I was slowly getting killed at breakfast because I hate blabbering about “office politics” and “corporate chicks”. But, then he obviously made my morning aka 12:30 pm by gifting me tonnes of chocolate. I then proceeded to “Cafe Hawkers” at C.P. which is a really cool place. They serve you starters and main course in mini hawk carts.
hawk
Obviously, because of the excitement, I called up a few more persons in the evening to eat more calories and tell them that they matter. And, my bubble got pricked when I realize that they’ve ditched me at the final moment and I had to wait for my mother to arrive for dinner. So, I picked up a book and started reading in the scorching heat until a beggar approached me crying about his pregnant wife in labor pain on the street. I managed to take her to the nearest hospital and in no time, she was admitted to the labor room.
I am actually happy that the excitement did work and I contributed a hand in bringing a life into this world on the same day as mine.
So! I left the hospital around eight, had dinner with my mother- she telling me stories about her birthdays in her twenties. And, I won’t think again, if I have to write. It was indeed a happy birthday!
Good Night!
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THE SILVER WATCH

Passing by the street, his eyes were again locked at that watch in second-hand goods shop. Sam glanced at the watch and he felt as if he has lost the track of time, but a mere look at the price tag brought him back to reality.
$5 may not seem too high for a watch carved so beautifully studded with star shaped pieces across its circumference, but is was way too much for Sam, an orphan, a street rat who worked day and night just to fill his stomach.
Days, weeks, months came and went, Sam passed daily in front of the shop wishing to buy that watch, one look at the watch was enough to mesmerize him to send him to the good world of his thoughts, but reality was not that good as he was not able to collect $5 , all he had was $3 and 70 cents which he collected all his life but spending as little as possible, sometimes he slept empty stomach or else stole food from the streets in order to fill his stomach as it was not possible to eat daily in order to save money.
“But what will this street rat do with this watch?” asked the worker at the store to his employer; “only heaven knows” came the reply.
But one thing both the owner of the shop and his employee knew was that Sam glanced at the watch daily for hours and gathered courage once in a month to come inside the store to enquire about any reductions in the price of the watch.Months passed and Sam was getting closer day by day to attain that watch.
Months passed and Sam was getting closer day by day to attain that watch to fulfil his dreams, $4and 95 cents as he checked his life savings again and that sense of happiness was visible on his face as he was going to get what he wanted all his life. With that smile on his face he started to go to work, Sam was a chimney sweeper who risked his life daily to clean soot from the chimneys of the rich, although the day was tiring and he had to clean so much still that smile prevailed on his face and when he got his 5cents. He couldn’t wait for another second and ran towards the shop, he was like the happiest human on the planet and didn’t even thought of eating fruits which were on the tree, he reached the shop with a sparkle in his eyes but in a moment his world was shattered, the watch was not there.
Sam fell on the floor in front of the shop his money dropped from his hands and tears flowing from his eyes, the owner came to him and enquired what happened, on Sam’s reply he asked “why did you want the watch in the first place, what will someone like you do with that watch?”
The Silver Watch
These words from the shopkeeper took Sam back in time, in the world of his memories, his childhood when his mother was alive and  he used to lay in her lap happily with no worries about the world, she was a poor women rich by heart, raising her son alone after her husband’s death and no relatives to support her but she was happy, her son meant the world to her and he remembered her wearing that silver watch on her wrist all the time, this watch was his mothers only memory he had, which was lost the night she died in an accident on the street leaving him all alone in this world.The shop owner couldn’t stop himself from helping the boy, he searched his registers and gave the address of the man who bought that watch this afternoon, Sam got up and rushed to the address and told his story to that man, and asked him if he would be kind enough to sell that watch to him for which he had worked hard all his life and which meant to him more than his life. The man told him I bought this watch for my 12 year old daughter and she has gone to play in the park and only she can decide what she wants to do with her present now, so Sam waited at their gate for almost an hour until the girl returned. He got up and went to her father and the girl’s father said “Maria, I want to talk to you about the watch I bought u this afternoon”.
The shop owner couldn’t stop himself from helping the boy, he searched his registers and gave the address of the man who bought that watch this afternoon, Sam got up and rushed to the address and told his story to that man, and asked him if he would be kind enough to sell that watch to him for which he had worked hard all his life and which meant to him more than his life. The man told him I bought this watch for my 12 year old daughter and she has gone to play in the park and only she can decide what she wants to do with her present now, so Sam waited at their gate for almost an hour until the girl returned. He got up and went to her father and the girl’s father said “Maria, I want to talk to you about the watch I bought u this afternoon” and she replied, “oh the stupid silver-colored watch, what about it, anyways I lost it somewhere.”
  In a moment she lost a watch and, Sam lost his world!
ANANT B

Anant Bhardwaj is currently pursuing law from Faculty of Law Delhi University. He is a dreamer who is mostly lost in the world of imagination, movies and poetry. A big time TV series enthusiast and a huge huge fan of NBA, Anant is fond of writing short verses and heart touching stories.

The Lizard in the sink.

NOTE: This post is dedicated to a lizard. Yes, I repeat a lizard. 

insects

I once read somewhere on the internet that those we meet can change us, sometimes so profoundly we are not the same afterwards. Today, I feel the same. It was just three-four days ago I was attending a lecture at North Campus on Meta fiction. What I had gained from the lecture was the power of epiphany and how the stories written in books and enacted in movies are one way or the other inspired by somebody’s lives. 
Writing about life- It was pretty boring from the past week because, to begin with, the writer of this post had achieved the superlative degree of laziness in her life. Yes, I was sluggish, inactive, not willing to use my energy on anything. Five days passed from the calendar of the month of fall and not even for once, I did make an effort to go out and do some work. The assignments, meetings and commitments were piling up and I didn’t seem to care a bit. 
For me, an entire day was all about glueing at my laptop screen for Netflix and futile stuff over the internet. Dates kept on changing and my monotonous life was made up for researching all about terrorism, sex and what imbecile articles I could read while eating French fries and sandwiches in bed. That’s actually not a 21-year-old plan on when she has a job and freelance articles to submit. 
After, I was done watching the videos, movies and documentaries – (I was not done, the laptop’s battery dozed off), I just stared at my ceiling for hours to recollect how to dissipate my days were. It was happening for the whole week and it just had to stop. I forgot I did take showers at 7 pm in the evening to stay awake the whole night – writing. 
So, today the day was going exactly like I UN-Planned. But, I did alter it a bit. I decided to shut down the laptop and bang on the treadmill at the gym. I went straight to the kitchen after a hot bath and boiled some water to shed a few calories – never helps! After almost ten minutes, I had bygone about the water. I turned off the burner and thought to cool it down. 
With almost very strong hands, thanks to the dumbbells I lift up. I began pouring out half the water in the vessel down the sink. In half a minute, I literally had tears in my eyes. I was burned (from inside). I saw a tiny lizard hopping and jumping in pain because of the water that I was pouring on her. It was unfortunate. I swear. I felt awful and suffocated. The immediate moment post that; I turned on the tap and helped lessen her pain with the cold water. She tried to twist for seconds and then went numb. I had nothing but tears and tears flowing down from my eyes. I just couldn’t do anything, knowing that I had burnt her. I had not. I was deeply sorry. Tears kept on flowing down and I kept mumbling ‘I am so sorry’ to her. 
I had no courage left to even touch her. I ran away from the kitchen and stood out in the balcony desensitised for half an hour. My eyes fixed on the ants near the Tulsi plant. I kept thinking about LIFE and immediately terrible thoughts had begun a marathon; one after the other. For the record, I am a vegetarian and I have never seen an animal being brutally killed in my entire life of 21 years. I have seen humans dying in hospitals and people tell me that I am strong. I know. I do not need anybody’s validation to feel that. But, I felt a lot different today. I am still figuring out an answer while writing this.
They say, when a person dies he/she gets seven minutes of his ending life to recall back the whole of life. I compared us with a lizard. Did she have that too? I mean her life. I don’t know if that was about eating flies and insects on my house’s wall or latching out of the eggs or even about sleeping in my kitchen’s sink. I felt sorry and traumatized. It was an accident a friend of mine tells me over Whats-app, who once accidentally killed a pigeon in his balcony. But, I just cannot forgive myself for pouring out that hot water. I should have looked in. I don’t know.
This feeling. This agony- I had to put an end to it. I wore stupid clothes and went out when the city was all wet. The smell of rain rationalized my senses a bit and I did my part to feed the dogs at my street and also the beggars who stopped near the auto I was travelling in. I was literally wishing something exciting and extravagant to happen in my life, lying for days in the bed. But, not this way.
People will tell me that more than half of the world’s population is non-vegetarian but I know that we all are designed by somebody up above in a special way. Also, I will have texts on my phone yelling out ‘You are a dumb kid’. I am unaware of emotions in animals/insects but I do know that they feel something too. Even if science and technology tell us that we are animals too what makes us different is that we have a brain!

All living things do contain a measure of madness.

PS: When I got home, my mother told me that there was nothing in the sink.

 

 

 

 

Don’t Call (HER) a Slut !

Image

 

“A girl’s life was defined by lines: fine lines, hair-lines, bikini lines, class-lines, the tightrope line between being a good girl and a slut. But there was always a moment when the lines blurred and a good girl had to decide whether to toe the line, cross the line, or stay safe behind the line that guarded her virtue.”
A girl often called the most beautiful creation of God is an old adage but with the passage of time has completely lost its significance.
Why? Why has it happened? Why isn’t a girl treated like a princess anymore but a maid! A hanger, a chewing-gum! Why? Such questions arise!
The answer to them I found and today after hearing from so many people I have gathered up the courage to just vomit out my anger, my views, and my thoughts on the most beautiful creation of the Almighty!
A girl!
Congratulations. “The new angel shall spread smiles and warmth in your family. Enjoy your God’s gift. My best wishes are always with you”. Unfortunately, these aren’t the greetings which a mother gets when she gives birth to a baby girl in a country like India. Why is the mother tortured? Why the hell she has to hear from everybody? “Beta hota toh aj yeh hota aj wo hota”
Why a girl is neglected every time? Why she has to become the prisoner of the deadly restrictions?  Why she has to leave her parents’ house after her marriage? Why she has to adopt her husband’s surname? Why our blessings say “May you be the Mother of 100 sons”.
Why is she tortured? Why is she harassed? And last but not the least why she is R-A-P-E-D?
Ever since December 16thincident happened, things haven’t been the same. Residents of other cities have started to think of Delhi as a haunted city worst A RAPE CITY!  Girls who always wanted to get into DU are now scared enough to compromise with their education and to decide not coming to Delhi from their hometowns instead flying overseas to pursue their education.
Why is it so? Our coming generations are sacrificing just because of some obscene acts of some motherfuckers. We are not allowed to move outside the house after 7. We have to carry a packet of red chilli powder just for the sake of safety! And By the way Safety from whom? Safety from boys? Or safety from the evil minded devils those are just hungry for lust and end up in mole stating innocent girls. Well, the latter part is sadly and unfortunately true! Girls do not feel safe because of the devils and not from the boys. There are just a bunch of evil minded people who should be punished so brutally that they never forget in their next seven births. But we live in India where the only step govt. took while the country grieves; the govt imposes sec 144 & shuts metro stations. Incorrigible!!!We are a country that kills little girls before they are born.
“ Ek Mahila ka rape hua”
“ Chalti Bus mei student k sath rape”
“Boss ne kia apni assistant ka rape”
“ 40 saal ki mahila ka rape”
and sadly but the truth
“ 5 saal ki buchchi ka rape” ?
5 years? She is just 5! We don’t even know what we were when we were five. And that small angel was continuously screaming at the top of her voice in a room full of rapists. What was her fault? She wore revealing clothes? She trapped a rapist in her lusty charms? No!! As I already said this is just a state of mind. If a girl is fat she isn’t called sexy, why? Because flab is never in!  And the skinny one is the one who everybody dreams for. This is the state of mind. If she wears Salwar Kameez she becomes an aunt and when she wears shorts she looks Hot! This is the state of mind. If her cleavage is visible she is a slut and if she hides behind several drapes, she doesn’t have a figure for jeans. This is the state of mind.
Why she has to look hot? Why she has to show her cleavage? Why she has to travel in the ladies compartment? So that boys notice? No, my dear, you are sadly mistaken! She can do anything because she has the right to because she is confident enough she won’t get raped. But ironically living in a metropolitan city and being afraid of men is just not weakening herself, but weakening the whole foundation of the women society.
If she dates more than 3 guys she is labelled as a slut and if he is surrounded by a bunch of girls He is the “CASANOVA”.
Who are too we blame?
Police? No!
Do you know what is happening on the fifth floor in the last house on your street? Then how come a policeman knows what is happening to a five-year-old in a room of Gandhi Nagar. We call them corrupt. Aren’t we corrupt? Don’t we occupy a seat in a college by means of fake certificates? Don’t we watch pirated videos after their release? We all have been under the influence of corruption once in our lives. So we can’t put the entire blame on the cops neither on boys. This is just a state of mind. If this post occupies even a 0.5 % of your brain then my mission will be accomplished.
We have to reply strongly. Change begins within us. Change begins with our steps. When we will change No Jiah Khan will commit suicide, in fact, no heroine will commit suicide. No boyfriend will use and throw a girl. No Damini will be raped and girls will walk freely on the roads, the other compartments will be full of girls. We will not have to buy a shrug for a tube top. We could live our dreams. We won’t be marrying young. Take the first step!

 

The Lonely Widow- Published in Minds at Work 3

We are glad to have on our set the bestselling writer of ‘Life after him’ – Mrs Anjali Arora, whose novel has sold over a million copies nationally and abroad, is present among us to give a few tips to the amateur writers of the nation. Her book is soon to become a big box-office hit.
The interviewer announced my presence at the interview with sheer excitement.
So, Mrs Anjali How did the idea of penning down a book pop up in your head at the age of 52? The interviewer initiated the interview with her first question.
Well, Writing has always interested me and if I don’t write to empty my head I’ll go insane. Writing a book was never been my cup of tea because I always imagined myself as a homemaker residing in a countryside with my husband.
But your articulation of speech has made your readers (especially women) run head over heels after you and they’re expecting another masterpiece from you soon.
I laughed. Well, Yes! I write for women empowerment and if we take a glance at the current system of the country; my book is definitely a ray of hope for a few.
What is the story of your success? Your readers desperately want some fodder from your life and would like to know how you inspire them so much?
Ok. I haven’t spoken about it till now. There is a sad story behind my success. There have been a few incidents in my life which have shaped me into the person I am, today.
Please tell us the story Mrs Anjali, this time verbally, on air. She said pleasing me.
It happened two years ago.
************************
“We need to perform a few more tests on the patient; there are no signs of recovery” said Dr. Mathur.
I nodded my head before him, giving a helpless consent to save my husband. I rushed downstairs towards the reception of the super specialty hospital where my husband was being diagnosed for Liver-failure. Fifteen long days in the medical I.C.U and no hope of recovery. He was not even in his senses from the past week.The ventilator on his body was constantly giving him life-support and never once in a week did he gain consciousness and blinked an eye before any doctor. His condition was critical; none of the doctors expressed the belief for his betterment. I was left with no option but to agree to the doctor’s decision of keeping him on the ventilator and the treatment by the lifesaving drugs. I stood fourth in the queue of the billing section. Within a few minutes, other attendants left the space and an old lady sat before me wearing spectacles; her eyes glued on the computer screen.
“Yes Please”. “Patient’s Name”? She asked in a low tone.
“Deepak Arora”, I replied. “I need to submit the money for the X-Ray, Hemoglobin test, Liver Function Test and RBC count test. I stammered before her the names of the tests trying to understand Dr. Mathur’s handwriting.
“Give me the prescription”. She said.
“Here, here it is.” My mind battled with the thoughts of my husband on the ventilator; how he must be feeling? Does he know that he is getting support from a machine to breathe? Has he been sleeping from the past seven days?
My disbeliefs were disturbed by her instructions…“Six-fifty rupees mam” She gave away the prescription with her signature to me. I completed the formalities and rushed back to the medical I.C.U. on the ninth floor. The security guard stood before the gates of the I.C.U. and I was just a door away from my husband. But, I didn’t want to see him in a precarious condition; I had never imagined him, fighting between life and death on a hospital bed. Never ever in my worst nightmares!
“Bhaiya, here is the receipt of the tests, please hand over it to Dr. Mathur, for patient ‘Deepak Arora’, bed no-3”. I said panting my breath.
“O.K. Madam” He replied and went inside the I.C.U., I saw my husband’s bed from the closing of the door and the machines which occupied him. He returned after a few minutes with tensed expression on his face.
“What happened Bhaiya”? “You didn’t give the receipt? It is still in your hands”. I asked him embarrassed.
“Madam, Dr. Mathur has called for you, there is something serious”. He said looking at my face in a weird manner.
“What happened?” I repeated my question.
“Please go inside Madam” He replied opening the door.
As soon as I stepped inside, my heart beat thumped; I felt as if I would faint the next moment. Each step near my husband’s bed made my mind thought of the worst, while my heart prayed for the best.
“Has Deepak left this world”? Shut up Anjali. He might have re-gained consciousness. Think Positive. Stay calm. He’s alright. He’s alright. Everything is alright. God is listening to you. He’s alright.
Dr. Mathur’s gaze made me uncomfortable; I would hear any bad news the next minute. I tried to divert my mind from his gaze and my eyes shifted on to the ventilator. It wasn’t running anymore! The lights were shut down and there were no beep sounds coming from it.
My hands went cold of the most horrible premonition.
“Wha-what Happened Doctor”? I asked. My eyes welled up with water, I was half aware of what he would speak next.
“We are really sorry Mrs. Arora. Your husband is no more, we couldn’t save him”.
My eyes became red in a minute, and I turned my neck towards my husband’s body. He didn’t breathe. It was a dead body. Has he left? For real? He’ll never come back? Never? For always? My Deepak. My baby.
The auspicious day of our marriage, flashed before my eyes on hearing the news of the demise of my love. How beautifully I dressed up as the bride and we were united by the Hindu rituals.
“Mrs. Arora? Mrs. Arora? Are you alright?”
I didn’t know what happened post that tragic news, everything appeared black and dim to me. Dr. Mathur’s face faded before my eyes and the least I remembered was; I fainted in the I.C.U.
****************************
I tried to open my eyes but the brightness killed me. My head ached as if somebody had blown a thousand hammers in it. I hadn’t slept for seven long days. My eyes didn’t open while my ears processed wails of some women in my house. I immediately expanded my eye lashes and the crowd at my place looked at me with mixed response. The lady in the green suit pushed me up and made me sit on the bed. I started remembering everything,
‘I am sorry Mrs. Arora; your husband is no more’.
The words replayed in my mind again and again. I became the center of attention in everyone’s eyes; women in my house came up to me and hugged me crying heavily, making depressing noises in my ears. I didn’t know how to react.
Deepak! Something has happened to Deepak… No!!!!! He had left me alone.
The memories of him breathing his last on the ventilator came back flooding and a tear rolled down my cheeks. I got used to the aroma of my house on my husband’s funeral. I was no more a married woman, but a widow. Lied ahead was a bumpy road of loneliness with nobody beside me, my daughter had settled abroad and I had nobody after her except Deepak.
“God needed your husband beta, more than you, and so…” Said my aunt in a monotone. I felt like slapping her. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I just longed for Deepak to come and shake me up, to comfort me by saying that all this is a lie!
My husband had died, died…
I was furious with God. He took away my husband. How could God do this to me? Taking away my life from me? I cried blindly, sobbing my heart out.
I went closer to his dead body. It was covered with a white sheet. I didn’t see his corpse; I just knew that this is a body. This is my husband’s body. I could not summon up the courage to touch him. My face went all sweaty and I breathed heavily, there was another panic attack rising up in me. My grief was so intense that I couldn’t bring myself to ask for a shoulder to bank on. Not even when my relatives and extended families offered solace.
After all the rituals were performed at my house, the place seemed to me like a cage with no exit points. One day, my mother came over to my place to check how I am coping up after the loss of my beloved. She decided to stay with me for a few days until I got over the shock. She got me books to read and made several attempts to distract my mind from Deepak’s memories.
I sat in my balcony for hours crying while turning the pages of our marriage album. I didn’t move and kept staring at one thing or the other for long hours. I became a walking corpse, the house was empty and quite, I felt scared and felt as though I’m going insane. Cooking alone pained me and eating alone killed me every night. I threw away the food with disgust. Relatives tried to comfort but unless they hadn’t experienced loss, they couldn’t fathom the sick, gut wrenching feeling that comes with losing someone you love so much. My husband was everything to me, he took good care of me in every way and made all the major decisions, and I felt so scared and alone to be doing all I need to do, things I’ve never done before and not having my greatest supporter by my side. I’ve often wished that it could have been me instead of him, but I don’t wish anyone to go through this nightmare. I just didn’t know if I would ever get any joy back in my life, I thought. He was truly my soul mate, someone I wanted to live my life with, all the plans we had, all of them made no sense now. I was a lonely widow.
I had a small part time job. When I came home at night I cried all alone. No one to say ‘Hello Anjy. My beautiful wife’.
The weekends were the worst, I felt isolated in a room full of people and watching other couples eat and drink together in parties and meetings made me cry all alone in my heart. My neighbors started getting fed up with me as I was so down and they did not know what to say to me. A few ladies made ugly faces while I walked passed them and pitied me. I wanted to run away from that society.
The lonely, lost foggy feeling was sometimes unbearable. There was never a day after his demise that I slept smiling, my mother who was most close to me after Deepak was worried about me. She wanted me to attend therapy sessions but I refuted. One day while cleaning my closet she found a pile of diaries between my clothes.
“Anjali, what is this”? She asked confused.
I was taken aback. They were Deepak’s diaries. We used to write together every night about our day from the morning to the night. I had kept them safe and now they were in my mom’s hands.
‘Mom, give them to me’, it’s Deepak’s diaries. I snatched away the diary and rushed towards my room.
One by one I started turning the pages of our love story and how had life taken an upside down turn after the birth of our daughter. There were moments I shed a tear reading our fights written by him whereas his handwriting and spelling mistakes bought a smile to my face. His diaries were more than enough to get me back to life. I put them close to my pillow as if Deepak was alive in them. I took care of the pages as if they were my small babies. I smiled reading our words whenever I felt lonely. A thought popped up in my mind while coming home in the metro one day.
‘Why not write again’? Life is indeed giving me a second opportunity to stand up and fight against all odds!
I desperately waited for my station to arrive. When the train stopped at the M.G. Road station, I DE boarded hurriedly and ran towards my house as if it had been set on fire.
I unlocked my house, the keys lied on the dining table and I searched for my laptop in my study room, there it was! I typed the first word on the Microsoft document.
I lost track of the words I typed in a day and without eating a bit I kept writing. It seemed as a refuge to me. I created a blog for myself – An online diary where I would pen down all my activities and thoughts. God had closed one door for me but I had the potential to open thousands on my own. I published my articles and stories online on Life and its true colors. I started to gain readership and within a span of three months my blog’s link went viral on the social media. I had a life to live. Writing became my life. I didn’t feel gloomy anymore thinking about my loss. Penning down incidents became an escape; I could escape into a world of my words. I used to come home exhausted and immediately after my dinner I sat down on my table to write and answer to my readers. Reading and writing became not only my hobbies, but passion!
One fine day a fellow reader commented on my blog “When are you planning to write a book”?
The question seemed rather odd to me, me- A Writer? But after signing out from the blog I gave the comment a thought. Without a second thought and with full zeal and enthusiasm I penned down my book ‘Life after him…’ in a month.
Writing was a passion to me and I just had to give that passion a push. I wrote non-stop in the day, in the metro, sitting on the balcony and even while cooking food! My literary work with emotions required hell lot of dedication. There was no time machine to bring back or visit Deepak but I could make him live again through my words.
Life started to make sense to me now. My laptop became my only friend and Deepak’s diaries my inspiration. What had begun as a journal of events, slowly turned into a book of feelings towards life…
I went for long walks in the park smiling at the trees and the birds. No worries about life at all. Those were the moments when I became close to being happy.
I sent my manuscript to the biggest publishers in town and it got accepted within a month. That was a blessing from Deepak. If he wouldn’t have been there, I wouldn’t have accomplished so much in so little time. Writing had become an abiding interest and I wrote about everything which I saw in my solitary walks.
Life of a widow made way to my poems. I filled my diary with funny anecdotes about the patriarchal system of the Hindu society. My books, articles and poems received greatest response and were enough to make me re-live. I got paid a hefty sum for my articles and I saved them for my NGO. I planned to open one just for the widows of the nation. Deepak lived again through my words because I didn’t let this second chance slip out of my hands… Sometimes, when life throws curve balls we should never surrender before it. Rather, we should breathe again, smile at ourselves, forget the past and begin again.
There was pin drop silence in the studio after my narration. I glanced at the crowd and each individual exhibited emotions of agony and enthusiasm.
The interviewer gazed at me with sympathy and she sighed…
That was quiet a motivating one Anjali. Well, Now that I respect you more Anjali! After hearing your story. I’ll end up the interview with one last question. Please leave a message for our viewers.
Loss of loved ones is sometimes for the better. We are never too old to fulfill our dreams and never too lost to find inspiration among ourselves. I found my inspiration in me and my husband’s words. People will try to drag you down but you just have to keep going. Time heals all wounds. You also find one in yours. Just take a glimpse at the positive side of life and give yourself a second chance.
– Mrs. Anjali Deepak Arora.
The audience at the studio clapped enthusiastically, some even cried asking for autographs and then I took a bow!
PS : THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY.
AUTHOR : SAUMYA KAUSHIK.

I am (NOT) getting Married.

Voila!
To my readers (if I am left with any). Seriously, guys, it’s been ages since I have blogged or expressed my mundane, INSANELY SANE thoughts with you. Hey! Hello! Namaste! How have you guys been? I know… I know… I am beginning my post with super boring clichéd lines. Actually, I had almost forgotten that I do have a blog running, and there are people in Iceland and Antarctica, desperately waiting for an article. So! Like I said; it has been a humongous ride – The journey from when I got a day job and my debut novel got published and then I got to play many roles post its release. To brief this all up, I would like you people (haters included) to know that I have not changed.
I DID NOT lose weight but yes! I lost two teeth and now my jawline is more chiselled than it was. I tried becoming a better person though, I swear! Read amazing books, met super-amazing people, shopped at amazing places only for good shoes and I hope this post also turns that amazing, now that I have bored you enough with (I) tag. (I) am not endorsing Apple. 🙂
On a serious note, now that I have almost made a comeback, I have got some serious, non-serious stuff that has helped me shape in a better way. I would like to remind you all, I will be turning twenty-two (22) this April, (Do Not forget to wish me) which saddens and surprises me because; half of my friends on Social Media have found the true soul mates of their lives. True Soul mates bole toh Pati-Patni and here I am; still figuring out to make this post a bit funny. Guys! I think there is some problem with a few of us out there; that we are simply forgetting our individuality and voluntarily gifting it to some (XYZ) for the rest of our lives. I do not understand the concept of tying the knot so early; yes! I respect somebody’s decision of living together but Marriage is really the last resort. I wonder. Is it a question mark that is no more haunting us? Forget girls! Guys! What’s with your macho attitude? Where has it gone? Don’t tell me you will not cheat on with somebody else with your wife. Girls! Do you really in the world feel happy posing before a person with DSLR in hand and the showing it off on the social media. Ok! Let’s peep into your plan… You get married. You have two kids- One boy and one girl, as per the plan. And then? Potty Training? Then.
I better stop writing now.
Working on this post made me realise that so much of our experience is rarely spoken and yet shared by us all, and for that reason, it’s not been any easy thing to write. How does one write about thoughts that only live in our subconscious? I hope and I so hope that this post encourages you mid-twenty guys and gals to go out and find the right answers in your life. Obviously, I am not Steve Jobs to lecture you on Success. I read this quote somewhere and this sentence defines my life each day: “Tell me; what is your plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” Please DO NOT Answer: – GET MARRIED. Do you really have an answer?
Our hopes and dreams never become fixed, it’s a lifelong process. Get a job. Earn some money. Be a part of competitions. Make a wish list. Travel. Eat. Breathe, Read, And Dance. Make Love and please say “thank you” to me later.
The stigma of being a single woman is so subtle that we don’t even feel it pervading our minds and spirits. Society wants to define you by who you belong to. If you do achieve, you will be targeted. So, don’t take it personally. If you’re a woman running for office and you’re married, they’ll say you’re not taking care of your man. If you’re divorced, they’ll say you couldn’t keep your man. If you’re single, they’ll say you could never get a man in the first place’. People will Judge You. So Fuck Them. I repeat fuck them! Men are taught to choose. Women are taught to be chosen. Marriage is not a cure-all for the problems of your life.
Don’t wait to find someone. You are someone. Marriage does not complete you. You complete you. Love is profound. Marriage is not.
Courtesy: Joy Chen – for the quote.

 

Book Review : Female Planet Jivya Arora

Title: Female Planet : Celebrating Feminism
Author: Jivya Arora https://www.facebook.com/jivya.arora?fref=ts
Publisher: Omji Publishing House 
Language: English
No. of pages: 88
Year of Publication: 2014
Genre : Poetry 

Female Planet – Celebrating Feminism (English) (Paperback) Price: Rs. 110
Why a girl blushes?
Woman of fortitude.
Management of women.
Why I was born as a girl?
Preparing to be a girl.
I am a fist.
I am the best.
I am a female because I am.
Functional and Equal to Male.

For the first time ever here comes a book – Female Planet, Celebrating Feminism. It will take you to a new world of feminism where there is pleasure and rapture in exuberance. Here many unfathomable topics have been discussed and along with it a new surge of confidence could be felt by the readers that a woman is the sole nurturer of this world, family, organization or any social group.

She is the thumb of a hand, without whom a family, company or any organization cannot work like a fist.

This book raises questions and also answers to all the women, girls who feel that they are marginalized that you are born as a girl because you are special and can bring surges of change.

Taking birth of a female soul in this world showcases that she is potent enough to bring a dynamic and impressive change in the personality of people around, be as a daughter, wife or the head of any organization.

My views:

I received the book for review from the author who is a friend of a good friend of mine, hence naturally my expectation levels increased.Indeed the language is perfect, poems neatly woven, proof-reading is good, there are a couple of typos though. When I started reading, the first few poems could not hold my attention much that obviously does not mean it is not well-written.There are some social menaces which the maiden writer has beautifully woven. Other than this one thing – The poems are interesting.Like any other Indian author I have read so far, even this author uses a few Hindi phrases in the book, however, they do not seem to be out of place. I guess, that is how it is supposed to be – the Indian touch.

The chemistry, the under-current, the self-restraint, the emotions – everything is so very well described by the author.

Overall, it was an easy and interesting read.

About:

Cover – Good
Title – Protagonist Specific
Pricing – seems appropriate
Quality – book
Fonts – good for reading at nights
Characters – well-defined
Narration – well-narrated
Language – good Flow – good
Description – the description / blurb is good but could have been written better.
Story-line – Simple, mushy love story
Reader’s Expectations – I would say the readers should read without any expectations
Overall rating of the book – 7/10

Buy The Book from here : http://www.flipkart.com/female-planet-celebrating-feminism-english/p/itme2c7trvm4x9zm?pid=9789384028282&otracker=from-search&srno=t_1&query=female+planet&ref=251508a2-26e4-4c18-ad90-b87d54a5622eJivya

La Douleur Exquise

Annaya woke up around 3 a.m, panting her breath. At around 3 a.m, Ananya woke up, startled and panting. There was no immediate end to these nightmares. The flashbacks of that car accident which happened a few days ago still chilled her spine. The moment she closed her eyes, she could see that very image of the car she was in, about to collide with the car in front, and she could do nothing about it. She reached for the water on the table beside her bed and tried shutting those thoughts out of her mind. Her life in its own way has been a series of unfortunate events, but this one takes the cake.  She has always been a bit of an over-thinker and earlier as well, she had spent nights thinking about life and various other philosophical questions, which obviously had no answers. But this night was different. The reasons why sleep was eluding her, were different. This time, she wasn’t interested in “how’s” and “why’s” of that incident; only just in the fact that, “what now”? She went to the balcony and saw the sun rise. Another sunrise, another day, another beginning? She wondered whether she was even ready to face the world as of yet?
She reached for the water on the table beside her bed and tried shutting those thoughts out of her mind. Her life in its own way had been a series of unfortunate events, but this one took the cake.  She has always been a bit of an over-thinker and earlier as well, she had spent nights thinking about life and various other philosophical questions, which obviously had no answers. But that night was different.
The reasons why sleep was eluding her, were different. This time, she wasn’t interested in “how’s” and “why’s” of that incident; only just in the fact that, “what now”? She went to the balcony and saw the sun rising from the horizon. Another sunrise, another day, another beginning? She wondered whether she was even ready to face the world as of yet?Humans are always in flux and ever changing. She wasn’t always like this. Perhaps, the circumstances changed her or maybe she
Humans are always in flux and ever changing. She wasn’t always like this. Perhaps, the circumstances changed her or maybe she realised the transitory nature of everything that life gives us, and that made her the way she is at present. That day, while sipping her morning coffee, she realised that her college would reopen tomorrow. She wasn’t just as of yet ready to snap out of her mental state and go into work and study mode.
This time she wanted answers to her questions, “why am I even alive?”, “Do I even want to live?” Outwardly, her life may seem a happy and comfortable one to people; but inwardly, she had to fight with her inner demons every day. Getting out of bed every morning was a struggle to her. She used to wonder, how many people just like her, put on a fake smile and step out into the world of never ending battle, both with their own selves and with the people of this world. She kept a lot to herself; as she never found someone who would understand or would be willing to understand her pain.
People just want to believe in the illusion of “happiness” and sweep the painful thoughts under the carpet. She always yearned for that happy escape; for that understanding friend. That happy escape or that friend for her turned out to be literature and the world of books.
Ananya’s life would not have been so bearable, had she not been friends with Sanjana, Sryeemoyi, and Akarsh. She met them in her previous college, during her graduation days and since then they have been her constant companions. There is a small part of her soul in each one of them and thus they were her “Horcruxes“. Friends do help you in dealing with the sorrows of life better. They were the friends who had become her family. She used to forget her sense of time while being with them. It’s not like those three did not have to struggle in life; they all had to in their own ways, but being together made them stronger. No life is without battles and you just have to choose yours carefully. Although they all went their separate ways after graduation, they promised to stay in touch. Ananya took admission in a new college for her post-graduation. She used to miss the familiar atmosphere in her new college and as it is, it’s hard for her to open her heart out to people. She believed in the concept of homoeostasis, even though change is the only constant in life. Change for good or worse is important for the growth of the individual.
Friends do help you in dealing with the sorrows of life better. They were the friends who had become her family. She used to forget her sense of time while being with them. It’s not like those three did not have to struggle in life; they all had to in their own ways, but being together made them stronger. No life is without battles and you just have to choose yours carefully. Although they all went their separate ways after graduation, they promised to stay in touch. Ananya took admission in a new college for her post-graduation. She used to miss the familiar atmosphere in her new college and as it is, it’s hard for her to open her heart out to people. She believed in the concept of homoeostasis, even though change is the only constant in life. Change for good or worse is important for the growth of the individual.
She used to miss the familiar atmosphere in her new college and as it is, it was hard for her to open her heart out to people. She believed in the concept of homoeostasis, even though change is the only constant in life. Change for good or worse is important for the growth of an individual.
Nonetheless, the day she was dreading for a while came. It was the day that her college was to reopen. Ananya, as usual, was procrastinating. This unwillingness to not go to college is not new to her. She has been doing the same for like the past three semesters. She boarded the college bus from the metro and came across a few of her friends and they all began discussing excitedly everything new that’s going to happen, and somebody mentioned about a few new students joining their one subject class for a temporary discussion-oriented course to be compulsorily undertaken by every student. Ananya didn’t pay much heed to the new information. That’s how she was; civil but selectively social. She would be sweet and polite to all but only selective people were allowed a peep into her heart and mind. Little did she know that this course would change her life. It’s so hard to decipher or decode the plan universe and God has in store for you. When you feel like you are all lost and you are in the mental state of eternal abysses with no escape from it, suddenly there would be a miracle to save you just in time that even though the hardship was testing and pushing your limits, but God did not let your spirit break down completely. Something similar happened with Ananya. Lately, she had given up on her life and her will to live and survive. Everything seemed drab to her. The burden of her failures, family issues, and huge betrayal from a trusted and beloved friend, all in a way contributed to her disenchantment from life and even from literature. She felt hollow from inside; as if nothing could fill the hole she felt her soul or nothing could heal her wounds.
She would be sweet and polite to all but only selective people were allowed a peep into her heart and mind. Little did she know that this course would change her life. It’s so hard to decipher or decode the plan universe and God has in store for you. When you feel like you are all lost and you are in the mental state of eternal abysses with no escape from it, suddenly there would be a miracle to save you just in time that even though the hardship was testing and pushing your limits, but God did not let your spirit break down completely. Something similar happened with Ananya. Lately, she had given up on her life and her will to live and survive. Everything seemed drab to her. The burden of her failures, family issues, and huge betrayal from a trusted and beloved friend, all in a way contributed to her disenchantment from life and even from literature. She felt hollow from inside; as if nothing could fill the hole she felt her soul or nothing could heal her wounds.
On the first day itself, she was in her class and just casually chatting with her classmates when a guy came to the class and enquired about some students who were her juniors. He came to her class by mistake and one of her classmates directed him to the right class. That was the first time Ananya saw Samarth and her first reaction was that not only this guy is handsome, but he also has this melodious voice. That was the first time in her life that she immediately liked a person and felt a warm feeling towards him. It wasn’t just about his looks, it was something more, although she could not exactly put that into words in her mind. Later on, she got to know that Samarth is one of the three students selected for the course and he is to attend lectures with them on “Popular fiction”. “Popular fiction” was not a proper course for the final year students as such, but it was compulsory for all students as a discussion based subject. The very first lecture itself was a surprise to her. Since it was a more of a discussion, so all students had to actively participate in it. Samarth was in the class too and as he began to speak over the subject, Ananya’s interest suddenly heightened. Samarth is not only a good speaker, but he also has vast knowledge and command over the subject. She attentively listened to the discussion and even willingly took part. The moment the lecture ended, she turned to Amaira to inform her about this unforeseen event, but Amaira herself commented on this change in Ananya’s
That was the first time in her life that she immediately liked a person and felt a warm feeling towards him. It wasn’t just about his looks, it was something more, although she could not exactly put that into words in her mind. Later on, she got to know that Samarth is one of the three students selected for the course and he is to attend lectures with them on “Popular fiction”. “Popular fiction” was not a proper course for the final year students as such, but it was compulsory for all students as a discussion based subject. The very first lecture itself was a surprise to her. Since it was a more of a discussion, so all students had to actively participate in it. Samarth was in the class too and as he began to speak over the subject, Ananya’s interest suddenly heightened. Samarth is not only a good speaker, but he also has vast knowledge and command over the subject. She attentively listened to the discussion and even willingly took part. The moment the lecture ended, she turned to Amaira to inform her about this unforeseen event, but Amaira herself commented on this change in Ananya’s
‘Popular fiction’ was not a proper course for the final year students as such, but it was compulsory for all students as a discussion based subject. The very first lecture itself was a surprise to her. Since it was a more of a discussion, so all students had to actively participate in it. Samarth was in the class too and as he began to speak over the subject, Ananya’s interest suddenly heightened. Samarth is not only a good speaker, but he also has vast knowledge and command over the subject. She attentively listened to the discussion and even willingly took part. The moment the lecture ended, she turned to Amaira to inform her about this unforeseen event, but Amaira herself commented on this change in Ananya’s
Samarth was in the class too and as he began to speak over the subject, Ananya’s interest suddenly reached its peak. Samarth was not only a good speaker, but he also had vast knowledge and command over the subject. She attentively listened to the discussion and even willingly took part. The moment the lecture ended, she turned to Amaira to inform her about this unforeseen event, but Amaira herself commented on this change in Ananya’s behaviour. Ananya had no explanation for this change, but she smiled to herself. She could sense a wave of change that has begun to take hold of her.
She was afraid, but then all she could think of was Faiz Ahmad Faiz’s words,
” Gar baazi agar ishq ki baazi hai
jo chahe laga do darr kaisa
 gar jeet gaye toh kya kehna
 haare bhi toh baazi maat nahi.”
      Amaira was the only close friend Ananya had in the college. Earlier, they could not gel so well, but with time they have come to realise that they are obviously distinct but yet similar in some ways. Time had strengthened their bond and perhaps their distinctiveness and being comfortable in their own skin, helped them to be comfortable with each other too. Over time, their love for each other became strong and they started exploring the city together. That’s how most human relationships are. You need patience to fully or maybe partially unravel the psychology and nature of a person and only then the foundation of that relationship lasts. Superficial relationships and feelings don’t pass the test of time and they are not even worth your time and emotional investment. In this artificial world, human relationships at least should be real.
That’s how most human relationships are. You need patience to fully or maybe partially unravel the psychology and nature of a person and only then the foundation of that relationship lasts. Superficial relationships and feelings don’t pass the test of time and they are not even worth your time and emotional investment. In this artificial world, human relationships at least should be real.
That was the first time Ananya started gushing over Samarth and she hasn’t stopped since. She discussed that class in detail with Amaira and since that instant, she knew that Ananya is smitten. But, it was not that simple. Over time, Ananya realised that what she feels for Samarth is not mere infatuation, but it was deep-rooted admiration and adoration and Ananya admitted to herself that she wanted to be like him and emulate him in whichever ways she can.  Finally, she has found her ideal. Samarth is the human form of all her dreams and aspirations combined together. Ananya can’t help but admire his high intellect, yet a casual, cool and composed mannerism. She used to wonder how come he is like that.  How can a human be so close to her idea of an ideal or her idea of what she wants to be as an academician?
Finally, she had found her ideal. Samarth was the human form of all her dreams and aspirations combined together. Ananya couldn’t help but admire his high intellect, yet a casual, cool and composed mannerism. She used to wonder how come he is like that.  How can a human be so close to her idea of an ideal or her idea of what she wants to be as an academician?
Ananya’s life changed completely. Instead of running away from lectures and college, she began looking forward to it.  She decided to not skip even a single “Popular- fiction” discussion class. With time, she started enjoying going to the college regularly. She had earlier distanced herself from everything she loved; she had stopped reading completely. She tried time and again to resume but could not find it in her heart to read beyond ten pages of any book for that matter. But, now she wanted to read again. She wanted to embrace literature again.  She started putting her heart and brain into the course books of “Popular-fiction”. She began paying more attention in classes so that she can raise a point and grab Samarth’s attention. She wanted to be worthy enough to be able to talk to him about books and also discuss further on what they learn in class. But, approaching him was a struggle in its own way. He was always surrounded by people who wanted to talk to him or learn from him or just be around him. He has this quality that he is always ready to help people in studies and thus he was always busy with helping someone or the other.
He was always surrounded by people who wanted to talk to him or learn from him or just be around him. He has this quality that he is always ready to help people in studies and thus he was always busy with helping someone or the other.
One day, Ananya gathered enough courage and went up to him while he was sitting with his friend in an empty classroom and asked for his help in her project work. He smiled and agreed to help. It is a bit hard to focus when he is around; he was slightly distracting for Ananya. But as usual, Ananya was impressed with his intellect and she found his insight on her project very helpful. Ananya started enjoying and even looking forward to these interactive sessions with him. He always had new insights to offer to her and it really helped in broadening her sense of the subject and she realized that how important it is to think of your own over the primary texts and how to go beyond the binaries and even question them. She was in awe of his “Phrase-1” concept and ever since then she maintains this diary which she has named the same, and she documents every new idea or word that she learns or comes across. She could
She was in awe of his “Phrase-1” concept and ever since then she maintained this diary which she named the same, and she documented every new idea or word that she learnt or came across. She could realise her mental growth over time and she wished she could thank the person responsible for it.
She was happy; an emotion that over time she had forgotten exists. It was not a fake smile that you put on for your family and society so that they don’t question you unnecessarily about what is wrong, but an actual grin that you could feel your heart and soul warming up at the sight or thought of someone or something. It was not something Samarth did intentionally; he was unaware of this storm inside her. He was unaware of everything. He did not know how much Ananya respected him or how much his mere presence in her life had turn it upside down and in a good way.
He did not have to know everything as it is. If she could only tell him that she respected him so much and he had done a lot for her unknowingly, it would be enough. But saying it out loud won’t make any sense and she wanted to thank him properly for what he has done for her can’t be defined or contained in mere two words. She bought two books for him, as a gesture and token of “thank you” for what all he had done for her. She wrote a small note inside of it to thank him and to say that she appreciates all of it and that it means a lot to her.
If she could only tell him that she respected him so much and he had done a lot for her unknowingly, it would be enough. But saying it out loud won’t make any sense and she wanted to thank him properly for what he had done for her can’t be defined or contained in mere two words. She bought two books for him, as a gesture and token of “thank you” for what all he had done for her. She wrote a small note inside of it to thank him and to say that she appreciated all of it and that it meant a lot to her.
Giving those books to him was by no means an easy task. When she went up to him, her legs were shaking and her mind was a bit dizzy with all the nervousness. No matter how many times you rehearse in your mind as to what you have to say, but when the time comes to actually say all that, you go blank and fumble. She was no different. She fumbled in her speech and does not even properly remember as to what exactly did she even say to him. But. She was relieved that she could at least confess a bit of what she feels for him.
As the time passed, her admiration for him increased manifolds and her heart began to grow impatient to have a glimpse of him every now and then. She hated the holidays. She could not just wait for the Sunday to end so that she could go to college on Monday and catch a glimpse of him somewhere in the corridors. Well, it’s very hard to try and catch a glimpse of someone or to try and find excuses to talk to that person and all the while pretending it’s all natural, nothing fishy and you have no other ulterior motive. All this requires a lot of hard work.
She had to act naturally around the person and not let it show on her face that inside her mind she does “happy dance moves with pompoms” whenever she got a chance to talk to him. Samarth did not have that “butterflies inside my stomach” effect on Ananya, rather he had that “I can’t think straight when I am near you” effect on her and it’s hard for her to not just leer at him and forget everything else in this world.
Ananya always felt that time runs faster when one doesn’ want it to. The semester was moving towards its end and for the first time, Ananya felt that four months is too short a time for one semester. She wanted more time. She needed some more time to be around Samarth.
She hated “goodbyes” and this inevitable one would be the toughest. She was not just ready to say goodbye to this chapter of her life.
Humans are so fragile. Once they are out of the darkness, psychologically and emotionally, they never want to go back in.
Ananya was also in that dark tunnel from which Samarth brought her out. No, they were not friends and they cannot be. They will always remain acquaintances. Samarth had no clue that he was the light of Ananya’s dark life.
“Sometimes you touch other people’s life in ways unknown to you yourself.”
Samarth revived in her something that she had almost made up her mind to bury deep underneath her mind and heart forever. It was the love for literature and life and the courage to chase dreams.
Ananya had decided to give up on literature and choose some other field as the love and passion she used to feel for it was long gone. Samarth revived her dead love and passion for it; he did for her what she could not do for herself. He was that one person she wanted to see and learn from for the rest of the days of her life, and sadly she might not even see him in person ever again. Ananya looked up to him and he was this guiding force in her life, which she did not want to let go. She was scared of being lost in that darkness again. Obviously, she was realistic enough to realize that nothing could happen between the two of them and that he would always be that distant star she could gaze at, admire, yet can’t have. Sidney’s poetry’s famous characters reversed in Ananya’s life as she was “Astrophel” and Samarth was “Stella”. But, the heart has a mind of its own with a very vivid imagination. Ananya had to learn to not break down at this separation. She used to tell Amaira sometime ago, that she is looking for something and yet she does not know what it is. She stopped saying that; Samarth was the answer to her search for the unknown. The hole inside her soul was not filled completely, nor her wounds healed, it just pained and bothered her less.
Sidney’s poetry’s famous characters reversed in Ananya’s life as she was “Astrophel” and Samarth was “Stella”. But, the heart has a mind of its own with a very vivid imagination. Ananya had to learn to not break down at this separation. She used to tell Amaira sometime ago, that she is looking for something and yet she does not know what it is. She stopped saying that; Samarth was the answer to her search for the unknown. The hole inside her soul was not filled completely, nor her wounds healed, it just pained and bothered her less.
But, the heart has a mind of its own with a very vivid imagination. Ananya had to learn to not break down at this separation. She used to tell Amaira sometime ago, that she is looking for something and yet she does not know what it is. She stopped saying that; Samarth was the answer to her search for the unknown. The hole inside her soul was not filled completely, nor her wounds healed, it just pained and bothered her less.
On the last day, she just could not gather up enough courage to say “goodbye”. She meant nothing to him, and yet for her, at the moment this almost “stranger” meant everything. She could not take her eyes off him. Her eyes wanted to capture the moment forever. “The moments that hold importance are captured by eyes and not by a camera”, this is what Samarth said once in class and today she couldn’t agree more. She wanted to reverse the laws of physics and somehow wanted time to not run so fast. She could feel the time slipping away from her fingers like sand. For Samarth, she was just another face in the crowd and her “goodbye” would have been just another “goodbye” and deep inside her heart, she did not want that. She left the college without meeting him. That perhaps was the right thing to do. She was fighting the urge to cry. This was the toughest separation she had to undergo in her whole life. That one person who was almost an angel to her, an answer to her prayers, is unaware of everything that she feels for him and not only she can’t tell him all this, but also that it won’t make a difference at all. The paradigms of their relationship would always be unaltered.
She wanted to reverse the laws of physics and somehow wanted time to not run so fast. She could feel the time slipping away from her fingers like sand. For Samarth, she was just another face in the crowd and her “goodbye” would have been just another “goodbye” and deep inside her heart, she did not want that. She left the college without meeting him. That perhaps was the right thing to do. She was fighting the urge to cry. This was the toughest separation she had to undergo in her whole life. That one person who was almost an angel to her, an answer to her prayers, is unaware of everything that she felt for him and not only she couldn’t tell him all this, but also that it won’t make a difference at all. The paradigms of their relationship would always be unaltered.
While going back home in the metro, she replayed in her mind all the incidences she remembered of observing him in class while discussing “Popular-fiction”; how he smiled vividly when he talked about “Game of Thrones” or “Star Wars” or “Cheese pizza”. She smiled to herself.
Life is unfair. The worst part is, she did not know him as a person. Her admiration for him knew no bounds, and yet she could not know him as a person and be his friend. Maybe in a galaxy far far away, they could be friends or something more. Although, it’s a possibility in just an alternative universe.
Out of everything she has learned from him, one quote that he said in class and Ananya happened to love the most is, “Grief, when aestheticized is a beautiful thing” and she planned to do the same. She planned to pen down her feelings and grief because that’s how she could go back and revisit those days again in her mind. She has nothing more
She planned to pen down her feelings and grief because that’s how she could go back and revisit those days again in her mind. She had nothing more of him with her; nothing more than her own memories and feelings. That is the last transformation that happened to her because of him; he turned a reader into an amateur writer. Maybe that’s why one-sided admiration or love is dangerous and scary. It changes the entire universe of one person, while the other person is totally unperturbed. This love is self-damaging but the question is, why does our heart at least once in everyone’s life, follow that one person who can never be ours? Why does universe let two people meet who don’t belong in each other’s life or won’t stay long? Why do we have to go through the pang of separation and
Maybe that’s why one-sided admiration or love is dangerous and scary. It changes the entire universe of one person, while the other person is totally unperturbed. This love is self-damaging but the question is, why does our heart at least once in everyone’s life, follow that one person who can never be ours? Why does universe let two people meet who don’t belong in each other’s life or won’t stay long? Why do we have to go through the pang of separation and heartbreak to realise the worth of love? If only these questions had any answers…
       “Ye aarzoo bhi badi cheez hai magar humdum
visal-e-yaar faqat aarzoo ki baat nahi.”
– Faiz Ahmad Faiz
Aishwarya is currently pursuing MA in English Literature from IP university. Her favorite hobby is shutting the world out and getting lost in the world of books. If not that, then she likes to binge a TV series of her choice. She also likes to visit monuments or new places of historical significance and soak in the aesthetical pleasure she gets out of it.

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