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Beauty Is A Fragile Gift! - A Short Story

Friday, November 14, 2014

She woke up to the screeching sound of the alarm clock, eyes wide open, and she stared into nothingness, arms crossed on her chest. On any other day, that would be how she would decide the menu for breakfast and lunch, but that day she couldn’t muscle up the energy to drag herself from the warmth her woollen bed sheet offered. Pulling the sheets over her face she drifted back to sleep.

“Is the breakfast ready? What am I having for lunch?” he asked, although there was a demanding tone to the phrase.

“Sorry, I couldn’t prepare anything as I woke up late, will you eat out for today?” she said apologetically.

He could see the tiredness in her eyes not only today, but for a few days now, but couldn’t help the frown and walked out of the house mumbling.

She felt the rush of guilt cutting her in half, but thought of making up to him that night.

She ran her hand over the dresses she had in her closet, with a dry smile she shut the closet. She couldn’t remember the last time she dressed up, coifed her hair, put on some jewellery and walked in to a movie theatre or a restaurant oblivious to the secret admiration that lingered around her. Soon reality hit her and she managed to bring herself together to do the household chores.

“I’ll be late, don’t wait up for dinner”, he said the second time he called that day, the first being an inquiry about her having lunch, which she still felt glad and happy about.

“But, I was preparing your...” and the line went off. “...favourite dish”, she murmured to herself staring at the recipe book she was clutching in her hands.

She was in her bed nicely tucked, when he came home in the night.

He walked in to the room to check on her then murmured a little louder than usual, which she figured out was an admonishment for her failure in the morning.

“Do you need anything?” she asked.

“No, go back to sleep” he said, and shut the door behind his back on his way out of the room.
The sound of the alarm jolted her, morning hysteria greeted her, but she managed to muscle the energy and dragged herself from the cosiness of the bed, she felt like she was swimming upstream. But she didn’t want him to walk out of the house empty stomach two days in a row! She just could not afford it.

Breakfast was on the table and the packed lunch sat pretty on the shelf beside the table.

He was sorry for the previous day, but he saved the apology and sympathy for some other day, savouring the breakfast and devouring the morning daily, unlike any other day, to her dismay he told her about previous day at office. Nothing great, just the normal he thought. So much goes transpires in one single day she exclaimed!

He ended the conversation abruptly, got up, took his lunch, said goodbye and headed out.
“Do you have some plans during the weekend?” he asked.

“Not that I can think of” she said, uncertain of the reason behind his asking, yet curious to know.

“Okay, we are going out”.

“Where, why?” she blurted out.

“See you in the night” and the line went off, before she could protest any further.

The weekend arrived, her curiousness grew. “Are we visiting someone?” she asked.

“You’ll know”, he snapped back.

“Wear your favourite saree, you know which one”, he said.

Uncertain whether to wear it or not as she had hung up memories in the very closet when she hung that saree in the closet 4 years back”, she felt the rush of guilt when she donned the light green saree.

They walked in to one of the restaurants, no sooner had she walked in, and nostalgia hit her. It took a couple of moments to shun the tremors of nostalgia before she could take any step further. She could sense and notice the small tokens of admiration around, she felt awkward.
He had already pre-ordered everything, so that they could talk more, rather than indulging in the mundane activity of going through the menu.

He spoke about what was going in his life, and she devoured every bit of it. He told her tales about his workplace, friends, the kind of fun they have. She was amused by few and frowned at few.

The food arrived, just when she thought the bouts of nostalgia started to sink in, she was being knocked out with a few more. She devoured the food, all of it pleasing her taste buds like before! He soon realised they were already late for the matinee he had booked tickets for, nevertheless they headed to the cinema, they wound up 1 hour late, but still walked in.

He took her for a long drive, as none of them had the appetite for supper. They drove till sunset, trees passing by, and soon every mile seemed to be just another number. On their way back home they had ice-cream, “nostalgia she thought” .They laughed, argued, and teased each other until the dreading silence engulfed them, none of them wanted what was transpiring between them to end. But, everything comes to an end, sooner or later.
When they got out of the car to get some fresh air, she broke the silence.

“What was this all about? Why did you have to try so hard, did I appear so fragile?

“Beauty is fragile gift, and I could sense it was being snatched away from you.” And, I realised it was time I restore what you are worthy of, it was time; he chose his next words carefully, to fill in my father’s shoes, and walk the rest of miles with you!

“Shall I believe today was just a coincidence? She asked.

“I’ve read Dad’s diaries”, every day from now on shall be a coincidence, nothing more and nothing less!

She nurtured the promise she wore on her finger 20 years back, a tiny tear started rolling down her cheek, and then she smiled, assured of the fact that the promise has not been broken.

He could see her exude radiance like never before, her eyes sparkling, the tear rolling down her cheek twinkling and the grey hair shimmering in the moonlight, a sight that made his heart skip a beat, and a sight that etched deep into his heart!

The next day morning she woke up a couple of minutes before the alarm went off, crossing her arms she decided the menu for breakfast and lunch, and with utmost zealous she found herself heading towards the kitchen!

Together We Can! - A Short Story.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

I was in flipping through the pages of a magazine, when I caught him glancing at me, and I caught him a couple of times again and could see the delight on his face beam for being caught, his face beamed. I took the magazine and started walking towards him in haste, with anger smeared all over my face. Oblivious to the face that I was walking towards him, he turned with the boyish smile that he flaunted before, startled, he almost juggled the book in pursuit of keeping it in control, but failing miserably in the end and dropped it to the floor, and smiling to myself I walked past him considering it as my triumph.

“Shall we go for a cup of coffee”, he said while I was at the bill counter again oblivious to the reaction of the cashier, who looked at him, then me, and smiled to himself with his head down.

“No, not with strangers who gape at women”, I blurted back, and could see his boyish grin drain from his face.

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever, and I would like to have that joy, which here are you!”

Although, I was impressed with him for quoting John Keate, I just couldn't go out with a guy whom I caught glancing at me at a book store, though I wanted him to stick around for few days or maybe ask me again, hoping that he would, I said “No”.

“Oh, Okay. Sorry for the trouble”, he said. And, I thought to myself, how violent hope was, it makes you vouch for things when odds are stacked against you.

Over the next few weeks I visited the bookstore, again in the hope that I would come across him, but in vain. The next time I saw him was with another woman in the very bookstore, both deeply in conversation, and an intense argument on who would have better narrated the story of the book, the lady was holding. I was heartbroken, that could have been me, had I went for a cup of coffee that day.

He waved at me from a far corner of the bookstore, and I this time I brushed away my ego and waved back. He started walking towards me, and I started hoping despairingly that would ask her out and tell her the woman was her sister.

“I am glad, you waved back”, he said, his grin etched from ear to ear.

I smiled, and glanced at the woman standing by the cash counter over his shoulder, “A friend of mine from college” he said.

“Ambivalent about to be elated or sad, I managed to let my smile give away a little more than I’d expected.

“The bookstore is now lit up” he said, winking at me. “Would you like to join us for a coffee? I am not alone now, if that was your concern the first time.

I was elated and devastated at the same time, both for obvious reasons.

We were seated in the coffee shop, both of them still arguing over who would do justice to the story.

The woman introduced herself, and both of them opened up over coffee, and we got along really well. He was studying law and she was his classmate, I was again really glad about the classmate thing. Over the next few hours we spoke about politics, literature, Law, music, and love. 

He was fun to be with; I enjoyed every sip of coffee I took that day. I liked him too much maybe. And, then the agony of parting ways started filling the coffee house, and I wanted to scream and tell him to stay.

The next time I saw him was outside the bookstore, in a haste of starting his bike.

“Hello there”, I said, long time.

“Greetings my lady”, he said with his boyish grin etched from ear to ear and winking at me.

“Coffee”, I somehow blurted out.

He looked at his watch, and uncertainly, he said “OK”.

Over the period of few years, I regretted asking him coffee that day, I should have walked directly in to the bookstore right after we exchanged hello’s.

“I have managed to get a job as a Paralegal under one of the famous lawyers in a London based brokerage firm, I would be leaving tomorrow morning, I came to pick up some novels to savor on my flight tomorrow morning”, he said.

The coffee soon went cold, its taste from sweet to sour, it color from light chocolate brown to black. His words struck me like a thunder; the walls of the coffee shop suddenly started closing in on me and I couldn't breathe anymore.

There was so much to say, and so much to talk about over copious amounts of coffee, but life had too little to offer, and I was not pleased with it.

It took time for the words to sink in – Paralegal, London, Tomorrow Morning.

“I choked out, are you sure?”

“What do you mean by sure?” This is my dream job and I have waited for this ever since I took up Law as my education.

I didn't have anything else to comment upon and with that our conversation died there and silence engulfed us.

As a formality we exchanged phone numbers, e-mail Id’s and we said goodbye’s to each other and parted ways.

I wore my emotions on my sleeve and he wore his, if at all he had any, he seemed happy, while I was not. I was broken and I needed to be mended.

Over the next few days, I flung myself on to the bed and fantasized about us having a long distance relationship, fantasies that liberated and were extinguished without anyone knowing about them. I no longer visited the bookstore, my bedroom turned into my humble aboard.

After a couple of weeks, I received a text from him saying he has reached there and has settled, the job was great and London was beyond his imagination. I wanted to tell him how I felt, but figured out, what’s the point?

And then, he was the first to break it in an e-mail, through my silent delirium he wrote, “I would have loved to spend more time with you, shame that I could not”.

I could sense a glimpse of hope, the wick of the candle starting to burn brighter, and I couldn't hold it any longer and opened up to him over the phone a few days after. To my dismay, he too felt the same way that I did, he liked me as much as I liked him.

Over the period of next few months both of us couldn't get off the phone, we wrote e-mails, made long phone calls, but the distance between us remained the same, and the agony seemed to grow more and more.

“So, would you like us being in a long distance relationship?” I asked him, though it sounded to me as if I demanded.

“I don’t know, I am not sure I am ready for this”, he said.

“Why not, it has been close to a year now, and you still are not ready?” I was harsh yet subtle, despairingly hoping he would stand by me in this.

“Uncertainly he said, I don’t know, do you think it would work?”

“Of course it would, we together shall make it work.”

“I am not sure yet” he said and then got off the phone saying he had to attend a meeting.
I felt guilty of being a little too strong on him, but, I somehow had the inane urge for a commitment. Later that week, I found a postcard, with Eiffel Tower on the back of it and it read,

“I love you way too much, and you make me happier than I ever could be, and if my happiness comes at a price of this, I am not sure if we could work this out, but, if you think we can, then yes, I am ready for it. I trust you, you cannot be wrong”.

I couldn't be any happier, I wished he were here with me, but nevertheless I took the leap of faith.

They say distance makes love bonds stronger, yes it does, I've felt it. Over the next few months the frequency of our calls and e-mails to each other increased 10 fold; I woke up late in the night, drafting huge messages for him, as he did the same for me.

And, here we are still doing the same after 5 years of staying apart and I couldn't have been any happier, as the closure on the distance between us, is in sight!

No, She Is Not Open!

Monday, October 27, 2014

She beamed beatifically while talking to men, she laughed at their witty jokes, she was forthright and at times she might have gently brushed past them, she cared a little too much and she let them exploit her a little with her talk and ergo she is categorized as woman too easy to get, or rather let me put it subtly- a slut! But, you got to understand you took it one too far, you let your senses err repeatedly and rapidly.

Many a people have this compulsive need to draw conclusions quickly about others (women), and in that pursuit they miss out on the little nuance which defines a human being – common sense. Given the fact that a woman moves around with men, gets flattered on and off, she talks to men late night doesn't mean she has given in, you need to tune your mental faculties before they derive a thought and conclude things which suffice her character. 

It is a woman’s goodness that she tends to behave the same way with men as she does with women. Perspective here definitely matters, but then it should be worth of being showcased, it should not just dent others hearing organs. Albeit everyone has their own perspectives, for all you know, they are not going to hinder the path a woman has chose to tread. Every woman is amazing the way she is, it is the perception that is often gone awry!

Most of us men have the knack of getting ourselves wrong in things like this. We are no Brad Pitt or RDJ, most of us are not even close to what defines a man and we intend to outwit women, and you let yourself drift away to wonderland once you succeed at what you have intended to do. Just because she chuckled, blushed at your wits, cared and worried about you doesn’t quite mean you have won her fair and square, just so you know she often tends to be that way with everyone. Now, I might invite more brickbats for this post for bashing out men here, but it is all fine if you get the point I am trying to make. 

Every woman is amazing the way she is, some are open-minded and some are not, some are blithesome some are not, every woman is beautiful in their own way. Just because you belong to “some are not” assemble, does not mean you have inherited the right of lashing out at the ones who do not. You have chosen what you desired, so be it. 

No wonder Don Corleone from The Godfather said- “Women will be saints in heaven while we men shall burn in hell.” Men need to understand that women these days have the knack of being socially apt; it is your faulty perception that makes them socially awkward. Just because you see a woman hanging out with men, you categorize her to me ill-mannered, and open for all, had you been in the very group, you, my dear friend would be found wandering in the lanes of wonderland. 

Look up before you look down on others; look within before you peep in to others; just because you have barricaded yourself from being what the so called society perceives as wrong does not mean you find others guilty and drag them down with you. And, as far as men are considered it is high time you stop walking the lanes of wonderland, you are all alone. You just don’t know it yet.

Castle Of Love!

Friday, October 17, 2014

“I want this teddy”.

She clung on to it, and shouted again – “I want this teddy, or else I am not going home”

To her mother, she seemed a little kid having her way, but to the people around, she came off as one of those spoiled child who has to be taught a lesson, if not their thinking, the look on the people’s faces in the toy store gave away a lot.

Children are known to have mood swings very often, and this one was no exception, just when her mother was about to pay for the teddy her daughter clung on to, she exclaimed, letting the teddy which was being squeezed by her arms drop to the floor, “I want that one”, this one has only a little fur. The frown on the cashier, and other people in the store, went unnoticed as the mother without any sign of anger, picked up the new teddy and handed it to her daughter, who welcomed it warmly into her arms.

“She’ll grow up into a devil if you pamper her like this” said the girl’s grandmother.

“I am sure she will have her reasons”, said the girl’s mother, drawing pride from the glimpse of the girl talking to the teddy.

“By this age, most of the girls learn music, do household chores and are accountable to their parents”, snapped back the grandmother.

“Everyone is different, and my little angel is different in her own way, she need not be accountable to what she does, to anyone, but, I am, to her in every way – she is my pride.”

Later that night, seated at the dining table, the girl started throwing tantrums. At first it seemed funny and cute, soon it turned agonisingly irritating. She started throwing food in to her mother’s plate and ordered to be served again. Her mother did as she ordered, without of slightest sign of irritation.

“I am full; I need ice-cream amma”, declared the little girl. The tantrums seemed to come all the time, all through day till night on every single day!

“You little jerk, eat your food first”, frowned the girl’s grandmother, as she watched the girl’s mother make her way to the refrigerator and get the ice-cream for the girl.

A little less than 2-3 spoons, the girl got down the large chair which engulfed her and disappeared in to her room and came back holding the teddy which made her look small, her face covered with the hugeness of  it. She set it on the large chair and said, “He is going to eat the rest of the ice-cream”.

The mother overjoyed by the cuteness of her daughter, drew her closer and planted a kiss on her forehead, and cuddled her. The girl broke free from her mother’s embrace and embraced the teddy. Her mother was a little jealous, but, her emotions were often unnoticed. And, she didn’t expect an 8-yr old to fathom her emotions.

She was in building a castle in mud, when a lady usually a victim to her stubborn tantrums walked up to her.
“What is that you building?” you little devil.

“Not bothering to look who it was, she said, “It is for my mom and me”.

“And, why is that?”

“Because, she takes care of me all the time, puts up with the tantrums I throw which she alone was not accountable for, until God decided play a little game with her.

By this time, her mother was already aside the lady the girl was responding to. And, the she noticed the perplexed expression on the lady’s face to the girl’s latest remark.

“Her father left us, a couple of years ago, not giving us the liberty to question him. I do not like the way she looks, or she behaves. She wants to be pampered all the time and I do not have the time to put up with this thing,” 

And, you know what my daughter said? “I’ll take care of amma, I’ll make her happy and take her to places”  Those words, though unclear, from my daughter mouth, at that time elevated all the pain I was put through, it took away all the fears. The lady noticed the pride in the mother’s voice.

“I cannot be disloyal to her, by doing only my share of upbringing. We both, my husband and I were liable to her and, I am more than happy to fill his empty shoes, she’ll get the pampering and love of both of us, she is the my princess and I’ll raise her like one, with that she picked up the girl in to her arms, who was sitting next to the castle of mud looking at her mother, her arms held up.

Atop the castle lay a small piece of paper, tethered to a twig, which read “Castle of Love”.


Saturday, September 27, 2014

On his way home, he stopped at the market to buy flowers for his mom and just like every other Friday he dismissed the thought and headed home. He saw his mother at the door waiting for his arrival. He noticed the sigh of relief on her face and asked himself, “When would she change?”

“Where have you been? Was there too much traffic?” her mother asked just like every other day curiosity looming all over her. 

“I cannot be home early every day”, he snapped and disappeared into his room, leaving her stranded at the door. She walked back to the kitchen and resumed what she was doing - preparing his favorite dish.

He knew he had been selfish all his life, he knew he didn’t give back the affection, love and at least few moments to cherish to people who loved him the most. Even worse, he never let this realization take over him at any point in his life, for he knew he would then be weak and like most of the humans be dependent on someone and that would haunt him every single day, till the day either of them gives up on someone and he was too stubborn to go through that ordeal. He soon realized he would then be on the receiving end, on the end where his mother and sister currently were and no one better than him knew what it was like to return unrewarded from there.

“Do you like the curry?” his mother asked at dinner, eager for a bout of affection.

“Seems fine to me” he said, not being too rude.

“Can you not be a little more affectionate and subtle while replying to her?” demanded his sister sitting next to him.

“I just did” he snapped got up from his chair, and declared “I am full” and disappeared into his room, letting the bowl full of his favorite dish - the Halwa go unnoticed!

One day, his sister came home from school exhilarated and her smile which he admired the most, but never revealed it to her etched from ear to ear. 

“What’s the matter sweet pea?” inquired her mother.

“I secured the First rank in the class and was awarded the best student in the school”, she said smiling letting most of the words go blur.

He didn’t react to her exhilaration, instead he said “That is not a big deal, go to your room and complete your homework”. 

Her mother noticed the smile on her face fading and gave a look of admonishment to her son, who without acknowledging either of the reactions continued reading the book he has clung on to since morning.

Later that night, he checked in on his sister who was busy reciting a poem from her book. He noticed her head go back and forth and her eyes darted on the empty wall and her little fingers counting the number of times she had recited a single poem. 

“Here you go, this is for you”, he said. Not letting his happiness exploit his facial muscles. It was her favorite book of cartoons and a Mickey Mouse toy which he promised to buy her on her birthday a year ago. 

He could see her face beaming and the smile etching on her face from ear to ear. 

“Thank You Bhaiyya, love you!” she said jumping excitedly on the bed and hugging him. 

He responded back perplexed, by hugging her like never before, a drop of tear rolling down his cheek and a smile that brightened his face. 

Earlier that evening, he was in his room and when he overheard his mother talking to his sister.

“You know what, bhaiyya loves you a lot and he wants you to carry the same ranks and grades in the following year, so wants you to work hard and not be overjoyed by this result, okay?”

“He could have said that too, why be so rude?” she said sobbing.
“It is for your own good and he is not rude, he is a little stressed”, she said reassuringly. 

“He is on leave for the past 3 days, from what is he getting stressed?” she demanded in a way that made her mom give up on the conversation. There was no point in making her daughter understand her sons behavior, which even she failed decipher all her life and had been a victim of.

The next Friday, he stopped at the market, only this time, he bought the fresh roses his mom loved and a box of chocolates his sister devoured and headed home. 

Unlike everyday for the past 2 years, he didn’t see his mother at the door. His face turned red and his selfishness took over him, he thought the change he wished for came too quickly, came before he had his chance of atoning his sins. By the time he reached the door, his mother came out, worry written all over her face, which disappeared at the mere sight of her son, and she let the same sigh of relief.

And, at that moment he shed all his inhibitions, the fears which he dreaded. He never told why he was like this, why he was harsh and afraid to love back until that evening when he did, after briefly crying on his mother shoulder while hugging her.

Later that evening, he joined her mother and sister in preparing the dinner, he exclaimed that this was the best food had ever tasted. He noticed the beaming faces of his mother and sister and their smiles, he then realized what they had been missing, and surprised that it was so little of what he did that made them love him more than ever, and in that realization lay a happiness he had not known earlier!

The Longing!

Monday, April 14, 2014

“She woke up wrapped in his arms and his breath warm and subdued caressed her forehead. The little grin on her face slowly grew and etched from ear to ear at the mere sight of him sleeping, for all she knew with deep conviction she was destined to wake up like this for many years to come, desperately hoping, she clung on to him even tightly.”

She woke up to the screeching sound of the alarm, dreadfully she made her way through the sheets below which she lay, she saw him sleeping, envied and navigated her way through the room to the washroom. She woke her children up, made the breakfast, packed lunch for everyone. She combed her hair; let it loose a little (he liked it that way) wore his favorite color sari; she put on a little face cream not too much that her husband would scowl, but enough to deepen the intensity of the compliment that would follow which would make her heart skip a beat.

“So, how do I look?” she would ask.

“You exude radiance; you look like the one of shining apples from the orchids of Kashmir.”

“She blushed and snapped in curtly, I know!”

She waited by the phone with bated breath for him to call and pour in the news and gossip from the office, not to mention the daily praise for the food he ate for lunch. She clung on to the phone, the speaker digging her ears in a fear that she might miss out on something. She savored every word of their conversation off and on the phone, during the day and night.

She loved the little talks they had at nights, the long walks they took after supper but dreaded the little quarrels they had at times, fearing that she might end up waiting the entire day for his phone call the day after. She knew he fought because he cared, he just chose a different way to show it.

She wished she could salvage every moment of them being together, fearing they would perish she wanted to save them all, albeit she knew that she might falter at one point of time, because life is all about hardships and only few have the chance to face them all let alone the courage to face them.

And, then one day the clock struck and the time came to a whining halt. Memories started breaking down to smithereens, and then they slowly started to fade, etchings only deepened during the pursuit of letting them not fade; but time erodes everything, memories were no exception.

The clinking sound of the alarm broke in through the silence that filled the room, she dreaded it more than ever, made an attempt to shut it but failed miserably, she woke up turned it off, looked beside not a single muscle of her face moved, dauntless she looked around and pulled the bed sheet over her face.

She looked herself in the mirror and was greeted by a small, frail and expressionless woman. She picked out a sari randomly and loathed the fact that she forgot the art of choosing. She let her hair tangle not bothering to comb it, nor acknowledging the fact that she had to put on a little face cream, for all she knew the compliments that usually followed ceased to pamper her ears. They ceased with him.

She kept herself busy during the day, because she dreaded the fact that being idle would make her hope for the phone to ring one last time. The long talks, walks and the little quarrels no longer made her day, but, longing, momentary satisfaction, and dreading happiness do; dreading because she was guilty of being a part of it all alone.

The longing to hold hands, savor his voice, dress for him, laugh with him, to fill him emotionally and physically elevated with every passing day, and she knew longing was the least she could do to bring back the memories from the past. The past she couldn't defy, the past she couldn't stand up against, the past that she lost him to.

She no longer radiates, but the etchings and wrinkles have grown too quickly and have dampened the charm she carried, she still looks like one of the apples from the orchids of Kashmir, but the one, which will fall at the lightest of winds.

Taking No for an Answer!

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Denying someone something often comes at an awful price, but what if that is the only choice people were left out with or say intend to prefer. Pursuing someone has got its own limitations, one does not deny you something for no reason except for women, call me a sexist, but that is okay they deserve a little more pursuing. I digress before I invite brickbats for this post.

I see people putting a proposal and then putting in all the efforts they could to make it work, well, that is not how it is supposed to happen now, is it? One has to understand and must make sure that when you put in a proposal your hearing organs have the tendency to decipher the letters “N and O”. How hard is it anyway? How long would you want us to navigate through our mind and come up with an excuse?

One might argue that we pursue because we care, and we would love you to be a part of it, agreed. But how about arguing about the thin line that separates “caring and possessing”? Having said that, I might sound curt, downright obstinate if you will but, you got to understand denial has been chosen and I am in pursuit of sticking to it, wouldn’t it be better if the realization arrived sooner? It definitely would. You will have to accept the denial with utmost suaveness with which you have put in the proposal, else you will have to lead a hard life later on.

It so happens that people wouldn’t comply when they are asked to, but they wish others to do so when they comes knocking. You see “birds of same feather flock together.” I do not wish to imply that idiom here fully but, just because you failed to comply does not mean I would too, I have my own reasons, and I would comply if I had the intention or the desire to, denying always is not my cup of tea anyway, nor is acceptance. 

It is a hard but true fact that the coin has 2 sides, flipping it and wishing for both sides is not cool. People often have the misconception that when one gives in, they all game for it, I beg to differ, they gave in just because giving in would put an end to the misery right there, regardless of whether they like it or not. And, you are in for a treat if you encounter people who have the knack of throwing in the pretense, and digressing later. 

The pretense often hurts more than the outright denial. You expect, hope and then reality strikes, it strikes hard. I have seen people become victims of the pretense over and over again; why not accept the denial in the first place? What pleasure would one derive from pursuing? Nothing, I reckon.

Albeit accepting denial always is hard, but what if you were supposed to? One has to understand they cannot have their way every time, some people give in, for all they know denying further would only elevate the ongoing misery. Not all have the tendency to satisfy everyone’s hunger, few tend to walk a different path, not just because they carry some kind of I-do not-give-a-damn attitude, it is just that they like to keep it to themselves and it is better if one realizes that soon.

The Peep Show!

Thursday, April 3, 2014

So, how is everything going with you? This by far is the most clichéd statement that has penetrated my ear lobe despite my commendable efforts to resist it from doing so- Ignoring people. It doesn’t quite end with that very statement; it is followed by few more clichés that at one point makes you go nuts. I must admit that the efforts people put in to peep in to your life forgetting the fact that they have got one to look after is praise worthy.

Now, how hard it is for anyone to understand that everyone has his own life, own expectations, freedom, right to act and think (at least). One has to understand that not all humans have the compulsive desire to know what’s cooking in others life, and when they don’t bother peeping in yours, you SHOULD NOT too.

Had my trysts people ended in the way I expected them too, I would not have been scripting this article with deep contempt. It is so funny at times to see people put in efforts to know what you have been up to and then try navigating through it as if it is their own life. It doesn’t quite end with what you are up to; it is followed by; why? How? Why not like this? And, finally with “This is what you should have”!

“You are doing it all wrong, you should have done it this way”- Did I seek your advise now? I am pretty matured enough to know the repercussions, was I not ready to face them I would not have done what I am doing in the first place. I would rather respected your advise was it offered and put in a more mature way, but you my dear friend had to poop all over it.

People chose the path that they feel can tread, others since time immemorial have no right to try to make them tread another path. You are not the one walking the path for them, right? You shouldn’t bother then. For all you know, it is easy for you to blabber all you want, but you will grow a cold feet when you have to walk along with them. So cut it out or grow a pair, seriously.

One might argue that this happens with someone you are not close to, I beg to differ. You just cannot keep relatives out of your life, NO you cannot, they come back strong every time you cut them out. 

“So, you looking for a Job I heard”, and I am like this is the first time I realized you existed and it is silly you heard something about me! “So why don’t you look for a better job or go for higher studies?” and I am like you don’t even know what I am doing, asking me to do something better is ridiculous. “You are almost 23 now, when are you planning to get settled and have kids?” and this where I try to gather all the resistance I can to not hit people. Seriously, who thinks to have kids at the age of 23? 

As Don Corleone from The Godfather says and I quote “Everything small shit that happens in someone’s life is personal”, so you got to understand it is not for public display. To each his own. 

You play your role when you are asked to, not because you have the compulsive disorder to cast in every play. You peep once, twice and if you don’t feel things are going to change, you end the peep show, because it is high time you realise that you have got a live that needs peeping too.


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