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New reality of (Im) perfect relations

Relationships are (im) perfect and no longer made in heaven. Isn’t it time waking up to the new reality of romance or serious kinda relationships that comes with huge expectations? Not just millennial culture but any relationship where we invest the whole of us, not restricted to the personal space lost and irrationally cutting chords from close friends or just put it that way, the ones that matter.

We live in troubled times and a routine running behind deadlines to make the moolah. A relation happens, falls apart and opens to a new one. You would argue it’s a circle of sort, right, and owing to past failed relationships, we end up becoming so attached breeding insecurity. I don’t blame anything or anyone but the circumstance pushes us to become clingy triggering flushing out of people that once meant the world to us. We end up doing more harm than good. The partner becomes everything and the worst part is there are a new whole and circle drawn upon our sense of creative liberty, freedom of thought and independence. I have seen people losing their beliefs and subscribing to the political ideologies of the partner. This is a wrong approach and doesn’t occur to us on losing ourself, the forced compromise made where growth is not going to happen. What happens post break up and how we go back to our old friends.

Being in a healthy relationship in my view is about growth, not only respecting but encouraging contrarian viewpoints and questioning choices made or the way both partners are approaching the equation makes for an enriching journey. It can be small things on how a partner reacted in the morning to not listening about something and cutting a conversation short. It creates an open space. One thing observed about many couples is the way times are spent in togetherness and not leaving an inch, whether coffee shop, movies to just being friends with each other. It becomes more an obsession than anything else and one day will come when suffocation will creep in. Conversely, there are couples who are always surrounded by family and friends, doing trips in a group of forever people. Again, it breeds an unhealthy equation. Where is the ME time or Couple time and why do they always need people that suffocates at some point? The concept of couples’ privacy is important, whether it’s romantic dinners and walks, being into each other’s company.

A balance in relationship, in the form of internal and external environment, is important while at the same time mixing a set of friends or co-workers wadding in and out of home or lives is not always desirable, often hinging on privacy. Once in a while, it is good for a couple to mix with each other’s people but not always since it tends to clip freedom where one partner will find it awkward not to hang out with people who have always been with him or her.  At a glance, it’s healthy hanging out with your people during night outs and the time both sets of friends can mix is during birthday parties or say wedding or some reunion. On a personal level, I’d prefer to hang out with my college friends or simply friends regularly rather than bringing my partner with me every time or vice versa. Of course, she would know my friends but at the same time, the freedom to do personal things matters lot and I will never pop in the company of her friends.



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Rishi Kapoor: Chocolate hero, lover and legend lives forever

I wasn’t even born when Bobby was released. The pandemonia created by the eternal and quintessential lover boy was witnessed by many in what emerged as the cult film. There was no looking back, despite being the son of the greatest showman Raj Kapoor, he went on to create his own identity as an actor.


I remember someone telling me during his student days post the release of Bobby, everyone was going gaga to visit Hotel Highland Park, Room No.305 in Gulmarg in Kashmir during a college outing to tell the frenzy surrounding the shooting of the song Hum Tum ek kamre mein band hai.

The Rishi Kapoor I discovered was while growing in the 90s the time he was still actively playing the lover boy and an endearing star, making acting such an easy job. The effortless smile, the easy-going charm is what makes Rishi Kapoor, the ever-lasting romantic hero of all times. Such was his power and aura as an actor that he didn’t need to shout over the rooftop. One of the rare actors who never overreacted and much before Shah Rukh Khan’s signature move we all drooled over, Chintu Sir serenading his heroines. Picture this song with Poonam Dhillon in Yeh Vaada Raha with his hands crossed at the chest level, clapping in style and romancing the pillar, Tu tu Hain Wahin. One of my favorite Rishi Sir’s songs and can watch a thousand times for he makes it effortless with his traditional trademark, infectious smile, exuberance, naughtiness and innocence. One can’t stop drool and rave over Rishi Kapoor.

The 90s was and stormed by the Khans, a new and fresh generation of actors. And to think, Rishi Kapoor was churning superhits after superhits with actors like Divya Bharti, Pooja Bhatt, Juhi Chawla, Madhuri Dixit, Raveena Tandon and Manisha Koirala in movies like Bol Radha Bol, Deewana, Heena, or Prem Granth and despite the age difference, he made palatable chemistry simply because he was such a natural actor and injecting passion, intensity in his performances. He was never conscious on screen and that was his biggest strength. In the era, Damini, Bol Radha Bol, Deewana, Gurudev and Heena remained some of my favorites. Of course, in the late 80s, Chandni despite being an all Sridevi fest, Rishi Kapoor stood his own and delivered a performance remembered for long, together with Nagina and Vijay.

As royal as he was on screen, Rishi Kapoor was bigger and colorful in his interviews and on Twitter. There are few people who are as candid as he was on social media and whether we agree with him or not, the honesty in his tweets and TV interview spoke directly to the audience. I read and reviewed his book, a perfect read truly Khullam Khulla, with secrets laid bare open. There is no holding back with Rishi Kapoor, the honesty, humor and entertaining everyone in jest with jokes is something we will sorely miss. For sure he made many enemies but can be called as eccentric by many, and refreshing to see someone as brutally honest while airing his views on any issue. That what makes him Rishi Kapoor so distinct and real as an actor. People love such avatar, real and no sugar candy, unlike his first inning.

So much to speak about Rishi Kapoor and painful to speak about him in the past. One star who clicked with me and the effervescence, bubbly and super confident about himself as an actor. He entered cinema the time when Amitabh Bachchan was the reigning King and angry young man but went ahead to create milestones as the chocolate hero, next door image and romantic star thriving in an era of action films. The everlasting hero and there was not, will not and can never be anyone bigger than him in romance. The scene when he says, Chandni to Sridevi, as a friend commented on my post today, making everyone going weak on the knee, or gyrating to Om Shanti Om. That was the power of Rishi Kapoor, the phenomenon.

A fantastic a second innings and he gave the younger generation a momentary glimpse of the eternal lover boy he was in Do Dooni Char and Hum Tum. Of course, Rauf Lala in Agneepath and playing Dawood in D Day blew the mind. Hard to believe it was the same man playing with elan romantic hero and donning a different hat, with the raw intensity. He made the roles extremely easy and pushed himself. Gravita was not him, probably he underplayed in a way yet emerged victorious. Like in real life, there was no pretense and probably that how he aced his part.

A plump and cherubic teenager playing a younger version of Raj Kapoor in Mera Naam Joker and infatuated with her teacher, the vivacious Simi Garewal. As we look back at this classic and one of the showman’s career best, the boy left a marked presence in the film and of course, Bobby belonging to the heroine but marked the birth of a phenomenon. There were many films that were underplayed like Rafoo Chakkar, Prem Rog, and Sargam for that matter must be watched time and again, together with Naseeb, Amar Akbar Anthony and Coolie with Amitabh Bachchan and Vinod Khanna. He stood his ground and breaking away from the rich Kapoor histrionics of Prithiviraj Kapoor and Raj Kapoor to emerge as the last Mohican.  An artist is never shy of experimenting and he did incredible roles be it in Kapoor & sons, Luck by Chance, 102 Not Out, SOTY, Agneepath or Do Dhooni Char.

Extremely tough to pick a favorite film or films of Rishi Kapoor for irrespective of the box office fate, the performance always stood out, simple, effervescent and striking like lightning. I find it hard to fathom that Rishi Kapoor is no more and watching an old interview on NDTV, the feeling to sink in is hard. Perhaps, celebrating the man who kept everyone in splits and leaving such a rich legacy. You just can’t stop smiling or remaining unaffected watching his interview or films. A phenomenon, legend and unpredictable. What you make of Rishi Kapoor? Honesty like nobody could. Look at fate, the day he died, Damini celebrated 27 years of release. The saddest thing is we lost another cancer survivor!

You shall be missed Sir, forever.


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For the love of!

For the love,

loosened guitar strings

weaved and knotted together,

collecting broken thread.

a healed heart taking decades,

taught how to love again

scars wearing on a soul,

unspooled romance like a broken tape,

stroking chin, lip and skin,

love the inner,

every aspect of the soul,

don’t be shy in seeking help,

for vulnerability is inner strength,

for the love of,

me, you and the world,

break all barriers,

dip straight into the storms,

embracing the whirlwind,

love is beauty magnified,

revel in its madness and intense passion,

whacking you,

flung towards reality,

pain and pleasure,

angst and madness,

for the love of it,

walk straight into the flames with blindfold.




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Fiction: Chancing on love…she says yes

Churchgate Station was jampacked in the evening. Eyes darted towards the yellow and brown painted train stationed on platform No.1 unmoved. A berserk crowd zigzagged, running amok to catch the local, swerving left and right in this sweltering heat percolating. Maddening honking of cars, cabs and buses outside the station deafened ears.

Arushi sat on the white bench wearing tortoise glasses and bag slung on her shoulder. Eyes darted left and right. A couple of roadside Romeo slowed and galloped in front of the bench to catch her attention. She was uninterested with the unwanted attention and eyes fixed on her mobile phone, checking Tinder and Twitter. Plodding hesitatingly on her steps, she entered the train and slouched on the berth, gazing past the station and the tiny, rut steel window giving a view of the busy road.

The break up did her good last night. She faked tears and watched him walk away on the deserted Andheri street. She could breathe free and closure happened after a year-long relationship ended, convinced that she is not into something new. The reverie was broken by a tall guy who almost jerked her off the comfort to plank himself next to her. “Can I sit here,” he asked. She smiled and wondered. “You already sat, dude.”

He was restless and fiddling with her fingers as if counting the number of times he got laid. Arushi was unaffected by his presence. “Hey, I’m Kundan,” he stammered. “So, you expect me to do your Janam Kundali and telling you the name of your future wife,” she let off. Silence engulfed. Kundan didn’t know where to look. She concatenated into riotous laughter. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. Ok! Kundan what do you do?”

“Right now, I am sitting next and trying hard to woo you. Hey, game for coffee. I know it’s crazy right. This train goes to Andheri, straight away,” he jested. She was flustered for a while. “Oh! Gosh! Not again Andheri after this break. My life is silly…. he wanna ask me out.”

“Okay! But five minutes.” She cursed herself for saying yes on this strange date. Who does that! Something is terribly wrong with me, she thought. The train slowly ambled past Churchgate and hit speed past Marine Lines and Charni Road. The train moved at jet and words lost like thin, smoked air filling the city’s lungs.

She walked. He followed. Settling on the sofa at Barrista, cold coffee was served on a plastic tray. “You still haven’t answered my question,” she guffawed. “Why are guys so like that?”

“You mean like what?” he casually countered. “Ok! I am a freelance kinda jobless writer sitting at home, admiring the skies and speak to a girl only if she blows my mind.” Arushi tossed her head, “Arre Bhagwan! I am not Menka and by your looks, not a torn jeans and faded t-shirt Vishwamitra. I am a fashion designer. Okay! No offense Kundan. You are such a fashion disaster. Fashion designer by the way.” He was confused for awhile. “You mean, You and not me”

“Well! I am One. We are not speaking about Rohit Bal and Anamika Khanna.” Both went silent and uncomfortable. She asks for a pen and jotted a 10-digit phone number on the paper napkin. She jerked off the sofa and picked her bag, “Since you asked me out, foot the bill, will you! It’s just coffee. Call me, I gotta rush.” He was taken aback and looked flustered, “When are we gonna meet next?”

“Call me. I ain’t saying tomorrow. Agar kismet mein hain hum toh definitely milenge,” she flitted past the crowd to disappear. Kundan eyes searched for her but lost the sight of this mystery woman he just took out, traveled together inside a sweaty local train and a posh cafe. The calls were blithely ignored. Dozen miss calls. He behaved like a jerk. Arushi’s phone was out of coverage. Kundun tossed right, left on the bed, spent blank nights with eyes tossing towards the ceiling fan. “Is it love,” he cursed himself. The saccharine old 70, 80 and 90s songs played on radio Mirchi in his car to beat the crazy Mumbai traffic did him no good. Was it the end of it? he asked. Perhaps, it was time to move on and he did. Routine crept in.

Rain lashed to the sway of barricade arrows in the city and the pavement, roads were washed out, with residents tootled awkwardly in a thatch of mud. Chaos reigned at the railway station flocking inside the train ambling slowly. Kundan stepped carelessly, brushed past passengers when he collided into someone. It was her. They couldn’t believe what they just saw and gaped with eyes wide open. “You want to sit,” she sheepily says. “I tried calling you zillion times but you wouldn’t pick up the phone,” he whined. The train has stopped at a standstill for an hour.

“I mean, I know, right. The ex before I met you called and wanted to get back. I was so stupid but then called it off. Waise, I left Mumbai….oh! No! It’s not feeling right. I am lying now. Ok!” She cleared her throat, “I was confused and dunno what to do, there was you and him. Finally, wanted to space out in my personal zone. You didn’t look for me, by the way and now see.”

“I am sorry Arushi…should have checked the cafe we went in.”

“You see, I was there yesterday hoping to see you. You know what, a horrible lover you’ll make. Waise dhoondne mein bhi Bhagwan milta hai,” she chirped in.

The train chugged slowly. In the heat of the moment, Arushi looked instantly into his eyes and faces cakes at the cusp of each other. Kundan moved his lip. She gently laid her head pressed to the metal grilled window. He moved slowly and forgetting every hesitation, lips curled into each other, caressing her jet black hair, kissing instantly. She murmured softly into his ear, “Let’s give love a chance.” He smiled, “Love is what we need, gently, slow and like this fast local.” The train swerved in speed on the railway track. Speck of rain flicked on their hair and face. Love has never felt so effortless and icy.




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Pune Memoirs: Cupid strikes, not a college romance!

Pune Memoirs:

Final year 2005-06:

Fergusson College:

First poem written on crumpled paper. Latest crush! It’s happening in the final year. I sat at Savera, admiring M, flitting effortlessly and with grace. The heart goes cuckoo and restless. A puzzle on how to approach M for she is serenaded among friends. Song playing in the head, Tune mujhe pehchana nahin jaana mein koi anjaana nahin! Bad signal! She got a boyfriend. Finally, the moment comes and it’s now or never.

Hall ticket will be delivered in college for exams. A huge crowd swirls to collect the time table. I abhor waiting in the queue and making successive trips but back out at the sight of students in droves. I make a turn and walk past the college gate for coffee and smoke to come back again. The successive trips made a couple of times and am not mad to wait like crazy to get the hall ticket. Finally, post 1 a.m, back to the Amphi Theatre to collect the hall ticket that will seal our destinies, offering a passport for our career. The crowd has thinly and slowly disappeared. Finally, I collect the document. As I walk out and trotted inside the campus, a pretty girl huddles past the gate at the main campus with helmet in her hand where she seems to be in a hurry wearing a confused expression like Cinderella. It’s her. Will I or won’t I speak to her? Shall ego gets the better of me!

Yes! Believe it or not. M walks up to me with the coy smile that no sensible guy in the right frame of mind can ever dare to ignore. Hey! Do you know where to collect our hall ticket? I can’t believe my luck and feel like prancing. I am gallantly walked with her towards the Amphi Theatre and waited for things to get done. We walked together in the campus where little conversation, she telling me her name, not that I was oblivious. The many perks of stalking in a gentle manner. I am floored by her composure. The number was saved as Princess M.

Drooling over her at home and slouching on the floor mattress, transported in a dream world with M. I am making faces in front of friends, mouth wide open and can still recall how the eyes twisting, right to left, moving towards the ceiling to take her name, M! Lovelorn! Intriguing how I can come up with the most priceless expression. I repeat her name dozens of times in a day and smiling at every living and non-living thing. This peculiar way of taking her name, romantic and lyrical, acting drunk in front of everyone. Now, I become the butt of jokes so much that Aditi, my classmate who was teaching us Philosophy chided, “Concentrate. Stop thinking about M.” Now, everyone wants to have a dekho of M and swooning over her that am speaking non-stop about this mysterious chick. Aditya is rattled and tells to stop boring for he is fucking tired of listening to just one name. I become a bird, cooing, “M….” You should have seen the face of the lover, eyes expression and shy smile, repeating her name so much that some folks were almost convinced that I am on drugs.

Lady luck smiling at me. We would soon be sitting together at Savera and Namaskar surrounded by her classmates. She was my junior. Love is happening finally. So what one-sided? M would rarely come to college for she was working somewhere and the rare occasions she stepped in felt like bhangra, waiting for her inside the campus and outside at our hangout. Folks in my life want a dekkho of her. The jaani dushman, Neraj whom I hated wanna see her too. I didn’t mind for when you are fidaa over someone, the foe is forgotten for a second. Love does things to the brain. Testosterone running wild.

Sitting at the smoking zone in the company of friends joining my table to get a peek of the lady love, I pointed in hush tone to a gang of girls. There were three of them. Neraj had the habit of shouting and almost excitedly pushed me to tell at a decibel love on who is the one among the three. I almost slapped him. Tension wore thin on me for I didn’t want the cat to be let out of the bag. After all, the first and golden rule in the initial stage of crush is the recipient shouldn’t get wind of things. She is the one! Curly tresses! Yes! Fair one! R tells she is cute. I am on top of the moon and proud of my choice for the pals validated her flawless beauty. I can’t keep my eyes off her. No! ain’t going to say Hi to her in front of her friends to make things pretty obvious for girls know when you like someone and the gal pals would get in the loop, dissecting on the why of saying hello to her.

Luck stared at me for the second time. We are sitting at Barista M, N and another dude, A. Hard to fathom that M is sitting next to me and at the same table, feeling like a dream. I have eyes only for her without making it too obvious by giving subdued attention to her friend. She shouldn’t know about it, I tell myself. M brought a horoscope book or did palm reading on the character of each one of us as I await my turn with bated breath. She tells about her family. When it comes to me, I am party ki jaan, she tells as per my sun sign. All hell broke loose for she hit the wrong nail. Me of all people, I wonder! I am a self-declared and known introvert who cannot even walk right in front of a crowd. How can my crush get it so wrong!

We are already making plans to watch movies together already. It was my idea. She told about a meeting the next day at Pashan and we can go if done earlier. The next day, she is nowhere to be seen. I took the plunge and buzzed. She picked up saying about being stuck and told to speak with N. I became good friends with N later. Nopes! We never spoke about M but the entire batch knew! N was the cutest girl in college everyone drooled over. I didn’t call N and the plan went kaput.

Fast forward 2008. I have already shifted to Mumbai and came to Pune for holiday. It was my last day in the city and the Volvo coach is already booked going back to Maximum City. I am waiting for her and toggled on the idea of getting her a rose. I met another girl and told about the rose idea which she dissuaded me. Finally, the rose was abandoned. M walked inside and wasn’t willing to have anything. I went towards her and hugged her. The signs we give to girls in showing our excitement. I am having tea or coffee and ended up persuading her to have lime water. How crazy it sounds now!

The short meeting, I cannot call it a date for it was never one in the first place, flirted healthily and she was in a hurry saying needs to go back. I remember telling her, Your heart is saying something else. You don’t wanna go, I know and wanna hanging around with me. Five more minutes, 10 minutes extra.  I know you wanna stay. My heart goes cuckoo. Finally, we say bye and walked together to her scooty. The story ends happily and don’t get flowery ideas for nothing happened. It’s another tale that once I called her when high on alcohol and she pretended to be her Mom. Ha! So many excuses when a girl doesn’t want speaking to a guy. I played around with a twinge of disappointment and called her aunty.




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Screw the love!

Love is imaginary,

bartered on the market,

sex in exchange for emotions,

a classic adage,

women give sex to have love,

men give love to have sex,

move over lust, emotions, and sins!

love may be fake,

emotions may be real,

not in my book,

romance is restricted to candy floss romance,

relationships ain’t perfect.

lies told to ourselves,

my love is me,

your love is yours,

the world’s love,

alien to us,

screw the love.





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We once loved!

Days of yore,

when love was alive,

excitement to fall and yearn for someone,

feelings are bland,

no age to make the heartbeat,

I tell them,

holding hands,

kissing passionately are myths,

imagine the love,

making us feel good about ourselves,

prancing and wading aimlessly,

floating in the air,

sensation of touch,

we call it love,

forever changing,

for hearts are complex,

the end of everything,

yes! maybe not,

romanticized idea of dates and cuddles,

who invented emotions,

days of love letters waning,

trunk calls,

made the hearts grow fonder,

forgetting we once loved!






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Whipping cream of love

Pulsating heartbeat,

a taste of salt,

berry to the mind,

waft of sweetness,

that’s how love taste!

lust is to the mind,

what love makes the heart,

twinkling bells,

it ain’t tinder,

swipe left and right,

dousing the fire,

in the wild,

silly romance does that!

who stole my poem and perfumed love letters!

you relic!

good ole romance,

best confined to years lost,


a cool lover,

storms in the futuristic,

no technology love,

plain romance,

say hi,

ever lusted about love,

holding hands over coffee,

you may just spill the beans,

lips whipping the cream.










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Fiction: Sms-ed to the tune of mushy hearts

The mobile phone was strewn on the spotless and shiny white Duvet bearing no stain, suddenly buzzed with the ringtone, “Dil toofan toofan ho gaya.” The room was dark and moist, coalescing with the sky gently turning into grey. A timid shower wafted in the atmosphere and the yellow dappled sun was slowly fading behind the towering, sky rises and oak trees sprouting in Pune.

Ankit ignored the constant calls and strode inside the kitchen to pour a peg of the imported scotch, Glenfiddich he received as a gift from US. The phone kept buzzing intermittently. He pulled a chair and rested his tired soles on the bed, after getting soaked in heavy rain. Dozens missed calls and the handset rang again, “Dil Toofan Toofan hogaya.” He blinked and called back but the caller immediately cut off the phone. He took a second sip of the expensive scotch swirling on his tongue. The phone beeped with a message and he clicked on the humble Nokia 3310, “Hey! Baby! Wanna take you for hire and rock you in this exuberantly youthful night…raat abhi baaki hai.” He was flustered and thought someone was pulling a fast one on him. But, who was that, he wondered.

He shot back, “May I know whose is that and messaging or calling uselessly? For the sake of clarity and sanity, identify yourself?” There was no response at the other end and after some time, he received a message, “You are being so rude and no manners how to speak to a girl…chivalry is lost to the world.” He typed back, “Listen! I know it’s no girl but someone is playing a prank!”

Ankit waited for some time and poured a second whiskey. He was longing for the exchange but minutes and hours has passed when several sms-es cascaded on the phone which conked.  “Wait! R U not Farhan? Diya’s boyfriend?

He scrolled and was amused, wondering whether his ex is troubling him and unsure at first but quickly realized that there is no way Piya would do that for she hates his sight.  “Baby! Neither I am Farhan and nor the fuck do I know anyone by the name Diya…would you care bringing some Diya in my life?

“Huh! Don’t baby me! Come again,” the reply came.

“haha,” he sent a smiley.

“Ok bye! I don’t want to speak to you and sorry that I messaged.”

Ankit called and a feminine voice coldly replied, “Yes! What do you want?”

“So you are a girl?”

“What am I supposed to be? Shah Rukh Khan.”

“Sorry yaar. I thought someone was playing a prank on me,” he apologized.

“No, I should be sorry…and so rude you were on the phone. Not interested in conversation.”

“Understand yaar. I just broke up with my girl friend.”

“So! What do you expect me to do…nurse your broken heart and start singing in the voice of Kishore Kumar.”

She hanged the phone. Ankit was getting restless and longed to hear her voice. He realized his balance was almost over and the next morning, he ran to get a recharge. In the evening, he sent her an sms, “I apologize for yesterday…please yaar, say something na.” There was no reply. He waited for midnight and sent her another message, for it’s the happy hour with messaging charged at 0.50 paise and 1000 free calls for a top-up of 300 rupees.  He felt restless and felt there was something special that kept drawing him to her. “Hey! What’s your name?” The reply came as fast as he typed, “Nishgandha.” He flirted, “Wow! Such a long and beautiful name.”

“You wanna shorten my name?”

“Hmm! Yes! I mean, I don’t know.”

“Nish for you,” she sent a heart-shaped emoticon.

“You know it’s crazy how we met on sms na and we were pranking a classmate, Divya’s bf. Our silly fights like lovers and got angry you were rude but feel like chatting with you.”

“I am cho chorry. Am I forgiven?”

“That’s alrighty. You better be nice to me.

Every single day, he waited with bated breath for the clock to strike midnight so that they could speak and constantly messaged each other. On days, she didn’t reply, he became upset, restless and weak. He asked himself, “Should I ask her out? Ankit wasn’t sure and confused whether she will ignore his calls forever. Both kept flirting with each other for hours and after a couple of weeks, he asked, “Hey! Don’t you think we should meet?”

“Why the hurry? Aren’t we meeting and speaking on phone? We will and let’s get to know each other better.”

“Arre wohi baat ho gaya na. At least, ek mulaqat zaroori hai sanam,” he pleaded.

“Dude, you are being philmy. Intezaar ka phal meetha hota hai. No beautiful girl ever told you that patience is a virtue?”

He innocently messaged, “No.”

“I am telling you, na and am beautiful. Suno! I got an early class to attend tomorrow and will you wake me up at 6 a.m.”

“I will,” he told.

“Toh, go to bed early and let me have my beauty sleep.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

He forcefully tried to sleep that night and tossing on the bed, waking up at 6 a.m sharp. He buzzed her a couple of times and started singing loudly, “Good morning princess and wake up, brush your teeth, take a hot shower and get ready.”

“Haha! She told, “I am already up.”

“When am I getting my reward? he asked.

“Wanna see you and have coffee, buy you chocolate pastry and flower?” he pleaded like a child.

“So you wanna a date?” she teased him.

“Yes! I wanna you take me for hire and rocking me, baby.”

“Don’t you dare baby me. I am warning you for the last time or else, I will not speak to you ever,” Nish firmly quashed his advances.

“Sorry baby,” he said. Both of them rollicked on the phone.

Nishgandha accepted the date that Ankit should come to meet her at the Girls hostel past midnight on one condition. He isn’t allowed to walk past the entrance but climb the window to the ninth floor. Challenge accepted.

It was hot outside and he chased the flies, climbed on the wall, holding firm to it and sneaked inside the hostel in the dark. Ankit’s heart was beating ferociously and felt like musical string, pulling the right hand on a window, reaching the second floor and almost slipped when he reached the sixth floor, hanging on to the wall separating the balcony.  He looked down and felt dizzy. There was no choice and he took a deep breath, finally reached the ninth floor. With a grip firmly on the balustrade, he removed the phone slid inside his pocket and asked, “Nish, baby! Where on earth, I will find your room.”

“Woah, sunny boy, you actually did that and he saw a red lamp coruscating from the dark window. She peered outside and waved, “Come fast.” She didn’t show her face but pulled his hand and bruised arms. The light was off and the lamp flashed on Nish’s dusky complexion, hair falling seductively on her tiny, attractive and glittered face conveying a shy smile.  Ankit wouldn’t leave her sight and didn’t bulge from his position inside the tiny room.  After all, she has been worth all effort.

“Wow! I am impressed and you flirted with danger to see me. What if you fell down?

“Babe, stop mothering me and what I need is a wife.” She wore a blue skirt on a green tee and in a span of seconds, moved into each other’s arms, embracing tightly and lips doing the talking, squeezing into each other, tasting the nectar of love and passion that would last forever.

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Longing for her lover

Flicking her long hair falling on the nape,
slouched on the couch,
eyes roved on her sensuous gaze,
she longed for her lover,
a decade wait,
she was present yet absent,
a distracted mind,
an accidental encounter in the shady bar, 
cuddle and kisses,
crazy fight,
passionate and monotonous sex,
destiny pulled their fingers apart,
they were meant to be,
exchanging sob and passionate letters,
till they couldn’t hold the emotions,
she bobbed her head,
laughed at her admirers,
giant stride to unite with her man.