Seven days to love

It was not supposed to rain. It was summer. She was not supposed to fall in love. She was practical. She hated the rains. People did not believe her when she told them so. Typically, girls were supposed to love rains. But she was different. She always believed she was different. Life….fate …..whatever you call it, proved her wrong. Her concept about love, the theory she always kept repeating to herself was ruined by a practical experience. It took  seven days for her to finally believe that she was in love. Unbelievable, her friends said. She was in love, she knew. Now, she loved rains.

Day one:

New job. The training. Her focus was clear. He was a trainee, just like her. The first time she saw him, he smiled. She turned her head. He kept staring at her throughout the training, she knew because she was observing him from the corner of her eyes. Back home, his blurred image crossed her mind as she opened the refrigerator to drink water. It was erased by the time she drank water and closed the refrigerator.

Day two:

He entered the room at the same time she entered. Their arms brushed against each other for the first time. He looked at her and smiled. She turned away her head and walked to the farthest corner from where he was seated. He stared at her. She knew. Back home, as she entered through the main door, she remembered his arm brushing against hers. By the time she closed the door and entered the security code, he was out of her mind.

Day three:

He was seated in the room before she went in. He was sitting in the front row. A few seats next to him were empty. He looked at her but did not smile. She sat a few chairs away from him. She looked at him, he turned his head. She frowned. Back at home, the back of his head taunted her. She thought the image would disappear when she sleeps. That night, she could not sleep.

Day four:

She entered the room, searched for him. He was not there. She sat in the first row. The training started. She concentrated. His thoughts were temporarily out of her mind but her eyes darted towards the door whenever she saw movement outside. Back home, she thought of him as she drank water, prepared notes, made her dinner and also as she lay in bed. She did not know when she slept. He smiled. She smiled. It felt good. She opened her eyes, he was not there. She was dreaming. She wanted to dream again. She had a dreamless sleep.

Day five:

He missed the training again. She could not concentrate. She let her voice recorder take notes as she wondered why he missed the training. Was he not as ambitious as she was? Was he sick or did he meet with an accident? She sat in the empty room after the training was over. She wondered. Where he was? What was happening to her? Why did his absence bother her so much? Back home, she tried not to think of him. She failed. After a couple of hours she picked up the phone and dialed a number. The number she had managed to take from the clerk who kept records of the trainees. The phone rang, she waited. She heard a recorded message and a beep. She disconnected the call and cursed herself for dialing the number. That night, she held the cordless in her hand as she slept on the couch. She waited for call back. The call did not come.

Day six:

She was too tired to get up. Her body ached from sleeping on the couch. Going for training seemed like climbing a mountain. Was she getting less ambitious? Was this what the guy was doing to her? Distracting her? She pushed herself out of the house. She was ambitious. She did not really need the job but she wanted to do it anyways. She reached the training center and scanned the crowd for a familiar face, without really knowing that she was looking for him. The training was boring. She put her voice recorder into action and almost dozed off during the training. She saw him. He saw her but did not smile. It hurt. But at least she saw him. Dream, that’s what it is, she told herself. Suddenly, there was movement around her. The training was over. She looked towards the door, he was still there. She stared at him and he stared back at her. She smiled. He smiled. It felt good. She walked out of the room along with other trainees. He joined her in the crowd. At the main door she looked around. He was not there. She felt sad. Back home, she stared out of the window for a long time. Saw him standing outside the training hall. Cursed herself for not holding his hand and allowing him to disappear into the crowd. Something weird was happening to her, within her. Her entire body radiated heat when she thought of him. She looked at herself in the mirror. A funny smile stuck on her face. She went to bed, smiling. She slept. She dreamt of him.

Day seven:

He was in the room before she entered. He smiled. She smiled. It felt good. He had reserved a seat for her. She sat next to him. They held hands throughout the training. Voice recorder into action again, her own mind tangled between feeling his eyes over her body, feeling his hand holding hers and counting her heartbeat. His touch gave rise to an electric current which ran through her body and her face glowed. She tightened her grip. The voice recorder stopped recording because of battery exhaustion. After the training they walked together towards her house. They talked. They walked. He stopped walking abruptly and then said something which did not register in her brain because before it could, he kissed her on the lips. A bold move, she admitted. She hated his guts. She liked the kiss. She kissed back. It rained.

When she told her friends about him they did not believe her until she introduced him. She held his arm, proud to be by his side. He was a part of her life. A few friends teased her, a few friends warned her. It’s not love, they said. It is, she knew. Every time they kissed, she loved him more. She was ready for the next step. He was not. He loved her he said, but he was not ready. He wanted to achieve lots in his life before commitment. She was angry. She cried. He kissed her. She went into his arms and cried more. They spent the night in each other’s arms. When she opened her eyes she was alone on the couch. She smelled coffee. She smiled and walked to the kitchen. Saw him making a sandwich. She fell in love all over again. He turned around to find her staring at him. He walked closer. She kissed him till he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed back. They walked towards the bedroom. Coffee and sandwich could wait. He was ready. They took the next step. As she lay in bed, her head resting on his chest, he asked her to marry him. She looked up and smiled. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her forehead. Then she listened to his heartbeat. He loved her.

It was a bright sunny day. She woke up early. She was excited. They were getting married. He wanted to spend the night at her house but she said it was considered a bad omen. She sent him home. Her cell phone beeped. She read the text and smiled. She got ready and rushed out of the house, calling her friends on the way. They were supposed to sign as witnesses. None of her friends attended her call. She reached the court. Searched for him. Searched for her friends. They were not there. She called them again. None answered. She called him. His friend attended the call. She dropped her cell phone and called for a cab. It was late when she reached. They did not get married that day. They could never get married. It took seven days for her to fall in love with him, it look a lot less time for him to leave her alone forever. He had always been a late riser, she knew. He got up late even on the wedding day. He sent her an I Love You text and hurried out of the house. He never waited for the green man to cross the street. She always scolded him. He smiled as he remembered her scolding. He waited for the green man. Looked at the watch. He was getting late. His friend waved from the other side of the road. Rules be followed on some other day, he told himself. He crossed before the green man showed. He visualized her scolding him just as a speeding car hit him and threw him over to the side of the road he wanted to reach only to be hit again by a truck. He saw her face for the last time.

It was a bright sunny day. She was meant to be practical. She waited for it to rain, rain heavily to camouflage her tears as she cried and cried for hours over his grave. But, it did not rain. She had started to love rains. She had learned to love.

FICTION

P.S: this is my first short story hope you ppl like it :) 

yet another silent night

                                                  The silent night whispers

                                               Memories of the days gone by

                                                Lesson learned, tears shed-

                                             And, the smiles smiled and shared.

                                                          The still night,

                                                      Thick with emotions-

                                                         Blur momentarily

                                       As a tear makes it’s way down the cheeks.
                                      

                                                       

                                             The breeze soothes my mind

                                           Tells me, It’s there with me still.

                                             Just the way it used to be.

                                           The silent night promises me

                                          An improved, better tomorrow

                                            Just like it had-years ago.

                                           The road, it still reminds me-

                                      Of the sleepless nights I spent looking at it

                                           Talking to it, sharing my thoughts-

                                            While the world slept peacefully.
                                   

                                                    

                                                Life has changed-

                                                 I have changed,

                                                    However-

                                Some things were just the way they were-

                                       My relation with the silent night

                        The secrets we shared, the times we smiled and cried together

                                           They are still the same

                                  Safely tucked away, for me to visit-

                                         On yet another silent night.
                      
                                 

                                           

Smile, Giggle And Laugh

smile, always had more to it than what the world claimed to know. sometimes a simple smile gestures, sometimes pure , selfish pleasure. the world feels good today. i woke up and there was a smile on my lips. it is a usual day, but there is something extra-ordinary unusual about it, or is it just me??

i got thinking about how a gesture so little can convey meanings so deep. i'm a simple guy, i do't speak much, i adore people who have dimples on their cheeks, i love cuddle small kids, i'm not random, have never been, but i smile, s lot. life has been very gracious to me when it comes to looking for reasons to smile and laugh about. they come naturally to me.

a few months back i decided to start writing a blog,journal the not so interesting incidents of my life, give fiction a try and when i published my first post about my angel, i was grinning ear to ear. my blogs became my guilty pleasure . guilty because it is all i do and think about these days. i met a lot of beautiful people here, and i am amazed  at how much talent you all have. genuinely amazed. i was  loved, praised, welcomed with open arms and i reciprocated  back with all my heart. but recently things have been a little hazy, words are not coming easy to me. they're making me struggle. i don't think i have it in me anymore. you've seen me not posting for a while now. and i suddenly realize maybe that's what the smile was all about. my mind knew it had reached some conclusion :) it just wanted me to comprehend and process it.

any bitter-sweet messages you have for me, please please please materialize them into words and send them to me.  there, you see that little red click here button bellow, thats it :)

and do not forget to smile, giggle and laugh a little more everyday :)

that way i'm leaving a part of me with you :)

P.S. do not make any guesses, i might be back really early, although that dosen't seem to be the scenario                        
right now but you never know what this smile of mine mean tomorrow morning ;)

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY TO YOU MOM ♥♥

I sometimes wonder if the Americans actually keep saying “LOVE YOU” “MISS YOU” all the time or is it made up in reel world. Well, how does it matter to me, right? But I am just curious.

In my world, it’s little different. Well, I am understanding it. I can hardly talk to my mom over phone. I don’t know what to say. Let alone ending all the conversation with “LOVE YOU MOM”. I just find it weird. Does it mean that I love my MOM less than those Americans? I think not.

RELATIONSHIPS- the only 13alphabet word which is untouched by the rumored curse on this number. By them I don’t mean meaningless flings, I mean papa, deeksha, cousins, uncles, aunts ! and above all, my MOM.

These are some people that lure you to swim through the evil waters of this metaphoric life.

A very happy mother’s day to you maaa, I’m penning down all I’ve never told you and all you’ve always wanted to hear from your 18 year old son. (I know you still think your son is 10 and is mre fragile than a triplet of pre-mature babies).

From the moment that wooden clock on the wall strikes 5, your day shines upon me, or rather us. You, are my SUN. I dread the day when some darned alarm clock would wait till all night to haunt my dreams in the morning. You give me a huge smile every morning , wake me up all sweetly :D and then my heart tells me ‘all is well’.

Those days end up to be my brightest when you sit beside me until I fall asleep , take me into your soft cocoon and caress me. You constitute me mumma. And your mouth watering delicious, aahh make me wonder why I can’t cook like you. Damn, I just can’t cook better than you mom.

And you’re beautiful J

I never mouth I love you to you because saying ain’t enough any day. Coz some things are better expressed in action or as a matter of fact  just the eyes than in words. Words may be hallow or even untrue at times but eyes don’t lie. I know my little gestures do  their task and yell that to you every day. Conversing  with you makes you opine and gives me some wings, my thoughts fly until they reach the sky.

So on the final note, I love you MOM (all thanks to my ever-green absolutely gorgeous nani for bringing my angel into this world).

I Loovvee you mom.

Stay with me forever :*

Your pampered child.

MEJ


P.s- found this pic in facebook, thought worth putting up in my blog J

The cries of a girl

-A Girl Wont Cry Easily,

Except in Front of The Person;

Who She Love The Most,

...She Becomes Weak..!

-If a Girl Cries Bcoz of You n Still luvs u.

Hold Her Hands Firmly,

She's The one Who Would Stay With You

For The Rest of Your Life....

-If a Girl Cries Bcoz of Getting Away From You,

Don't Give Her Up..!

Maybe Bcoz of Your Decision,

You Ruin Her Life..!

-She Cries Not Because She is Weak,

She Cries Not Bcoz She Wanna Sympathy or Pity,

She Cries Because....

Crying Silently is No Longer Possible..!

The Pain, Hurt N Agony Have Become Too Big..

She hav been Holding For too long..

-If a Girl Cries Her Heart Out To You,

but Wanna Still Be With You Always..

Its Time To Look Back on What You Have Done,

Only You Will Know The Answer To it....

You r da one whu can make her smile back again.....coz she luvs u wd all her n hav given u da pwr to control her emotions... —

A trip down the memory lane

I poured the nescafe coffee powder into the grinder with two spoons sugar. Followed by two spoons of water. After grinding, poured 1/4^th cup of milk into it. After some labor (by grinder), I saw the cream made up. Into the milk already boiling, I fully transferred the ingredients of grinder. Just after a short time interval of five-six minutes, hot cappuccino was ready!

I came back to my bed and sat awake.. it was 3 in the morning, as soon as I gulped down the first sip from  the yellow coffee mug with black stripes thinking about manisha. Her long hair, her full lips, her eyes. I was transported into time gone by 

                                                           *******

It’s the 8^th grade. Manisha was my classmate. Always the topper.

I knew her since the 1^st grade. We weren’t close friends or anything . I was shy so I didn’t talk to girls. But I have always liked her. Even though we were kids, I loved to watch her dance recitals in school. Her hair was  short then, but still lovely.

She impressed me. I don’t know why, maybe because I had heard my mother speak highly to her on school open days or maybe because mom couldn’t stop praising her dedication towards studies and her hard work. I looked up to her.

I liked the same girl all my school life . I wonder how I couldn’t talk to her for the entire primary school. There was this one time though, the time when we had an exam and I forgot a pencil. She was sitting three benches in front of me (the closest we had till then). I got up from my seat and asked her for a pencil. She looked at me for around four seconds. Then quietly  then took out the pencil and gave it to me-

“this pencil writes very fast”, she said.

Then I don’t know why she said that. But years later, she told me that she had seen my mother scold me for not being able to complete the paper on time.

Now, don’t translate this into love. She didn’t love me then . maybe she liked me. But nothing more than that.

I think till girls don’t reach puberty, the only people they can love is their parents. Did i?? I loved her . men can love at any age. In fact, men can love anyone at any age, maybe they are more individualistic or stuff.

After the summer vacation of 7^th grade, everything changed . on the first day of 8^th grade, the grade in which boys wore full pants  instead of their half pants, I saw the change in her. She was , well , she looked, more girlie. She had always been girlie, pink lips, cute key chains and all, but there was something different about her. She had curves. Subtle ones, concealed under the looseness of her pinafore, I kept looking … she was becoming women.

I would be lying if I say, while looking at her my eyes or mind didin’t go astray. Puberty is such a gift. It suddenly gives losers like me, enough courage to express what we wanted to say  since years…

I used to find ways to be with her, it could be something as stupid as signing  for an art class. I hated art classes, and there I was , taking extra classes!

I would look at her , paint her imaginations. I would be lying if I say; I din’t have ‘thoughts’ about her. I wanted her in my arms and make her mine. Maybe the testosterone drive was too high in me or something, but I didn’t feel that about any other girl.

I think she liked me too; I caught her looking at me many times . I looked back at her, but she made sure she never looked back. She would fix her glare on something, the duster , the chalk, or her hands, anything, but avoid my stare. The shyness in her, fuelled me. I felt like such a man.

Her dad worked for power ministry of india.

In the year that followed, my only aim was to get some time alone to talk to her. In school, it wasn’t possible. My friends made sure they teased me as soon as I got within 1 meter radius of her. She would give me a shy smile and runaway from there.

The only time we met alone was in the school van. My classmates took a different van’s, so we two were the only ones from our class in that van. I used to sit just in front of her seat. I would turn back 90 degree to talk to her. There was so much to talk. We never ran out of things to talk about in 30 minute ride home. Her stop was two stops after mine, but I made it a point to get down at her bus-stop and walk back home.

I used to reach home a little late. And my dad would ask, “the bus reached late, beta?”

I wasn’t used to lying to my dad, but then, in those days, it was difficult telling your father that you had a crush on a girl and you went to drop her to her stop, which by the way , is kilometer away from our house.

I would lie to my dad, “umm, you see, the route of the bus has changed, it comes from M.G.Road.”

“does it?”, my father would ask smilingly.

I used to reach school early so that I could get a seat from where I could get a clear view of manisha. She usually sat on the second bench, I took fourth. She was good in all subjects, but she never showed off. In fact, she would go out of her way to help girls around her (those days boys and girls used to sit in separate rows). She would turn around to help the girl sitting behind with some algebra equation . she would look at me, just a glance, I would look back at her and she would avert her gaze.

Then there was a van ride after the school. That was the high point of my day.

“you have lovely hair”, I said one day in the van.

She blushed, fixed her stare on something outside the window, but she soon realised that  since the van was moving , she couldn’t fix her stare on something outside. She had her hands In her lap. She fixed her stare on her palms.

“you have a deep hazel eyes”, I said smiling.

She looked up at me for a moment let out a smile that suggested she was uncomfortable with me saying such things but she wished she would continue… her eyes would rise from her palm to meet mine; then again she looked at her palms, like she could read palms and was on a major bareakthrough here.

“And you have a lovely smile,” I was enjoying it.

“Pawannnnn!,” she said cutely .

“you know what? you should become a doctor,” I said.

“a doctor? Why?”

“because it would be the easiest job in the world for you…. All you have to do is smile, and they would get cured.”

“oh shut up, pawan.”

She started talking a lot after that day. She talked gibberish but made sure she talked, so that It stopped me from talking about her hair, her eyes and her smile. But then, I have always done what  I wanted to! I kept on talking about things, like teenage hearts talk about.

The year went by; it was the last exam of the year. After the exam, we were waiting for the school van. The van driver had let the watchman know that he was going to be late today. So most of the kids of our van had taken the BMTC bus or if they stayed close enough, had walked back home. After all, the exams had ended today and they were not gonna waste any time of their vacation waiting for the school van.

Manisha waited, her parents had asked not to take BMTC  busses- they are dangerous, they said. So she waited. And so I waited along with her. To be honest, I found my van  more dangerous  and I suspected that the driver of the van, mr.sebastian, drove a truck part time. The latter declaration comes from the observation of his maneuvering skills, his utter disrespect for traffic rules and his vocabulary of indian gallis.

The van arrived. There  were only five of us in the van. She took the last seat; I took the one in front of her. The other three got down in the second stop. Now there were only two of us.

“it was such a lengthy paper,” she said.

Studies were her favourite topic.

“yeah, but you still will top.” I said.

“hmmm…. My hands are tired . look at them.”

She put her palms of her hands for me to see. I held her palm, brought it close to me, and kissed it. She didn’t pull it back. She closed her eyes. I closed her wrist. She let me.

We got down at the last stop. We walked back home. Tears rolled down her cheeks. I asked her what was wrong. But she wouldn’t tell me. Tears rolled down her cheeks, like rain on a summer evening. Men take a lot of time to understand women. Here I was, just a boy of 14, confused and scared, wondering if my actions had hurt her.

“manisha? What did I do wrong?” I asked, confused.

“no pawan, you didn’t,” she said touching my arm.

“then?”

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“you won’t.” I said. There is nothing beautiful than a girl saying  she dosen’t want to lose you.

“ I am right here.” I said; spreading my arms, a move I copied from shahurk khan.

“I have to leave.”

“huh? Ok. I will drop you no.”

“I mean, I have to leave Bangalore. My dad’s getting transferred to Mumbai.”

The world came crashing down. I couldn’t walk more. I just stood there. She continued walking. She looked back- her eyes didn’t meet mine. Her tears had stopped. Mine had started. We were standing within meter’s distance from each other, but she seemed like millions miles away.

She was the only girl I loved.....

                                                     

                                                               ***

the last sip of my coffee passed down my throat. glancing at my life, from my memories i was back to present now..

P.S. i am having a date with the same girl tomorrow... we're meeting up after 5 years.... :) would write abt the date also... untill then enjoy this part of my life :)

5 ways to know if your relationship destined for disaster.

No one gets into a relationship with the intention of it failing, but sometimes you’ve got to accept the situation. Every relationship is different, but many ten to fail for similar reasons.

“They are whirlwind promenades that begin with sex and never seem to get around to the fundamentals of friendship and respect,” says love expert Richard Hamon. “They tend to be short‑lived and inconsequential. They tend to focus on quick satisfaction, instead of the underlying fundamentals.”

Whether it’s been a few years or a few weeks, there are ways of figuring out whether your relationship is salvageable or destined for disaster.

1) He or she is not making time for you

To be in a successful relationship, you must make each other a priority. Yeah, you both have lives that include school, work, family, friends, internships and more. But if you really love someone, you’ll make time for them no matter how hectic your schedule may be. If he’s more anxious to hang with his boys or she would rather be having a girls’ night with her friends and you’re constantly put on the backburner, it may be time for you to cut ties.

"You know a relationship is failing when your significant other deletes your posts on his or her Facebook wall and will take phone calls while you are in his or her presence and their tone completely changes. The biggest way to know that your relationship is failing is when you are no longer happy in the relationship." 

2) Your needs are not being met.

First of all, if you want a relationship to work, you have to make sure you’ve got your stuff together so that you can make a good partner to someone. A huge part of this is knowing what you want. If you know what you want, you’ll never settle for less than that. If being with your partner isn’t fun, fulfilling or comfortable, they may not be the right person for you. You should be able to laugh, have fun and feel emotionally supported with that person. The people in your life should lift you up when you’re down, not the other way around.

3) There’s little to no communication.

It shouldn’t be new information to you that the key to a healthy relationship is communication. Cliché, maybe, but true. If you can’t open up to this person and tell them how you feel, that’s a problem. You should be comfortable enough around this person that you can tell them anything, whether it’s opening up to them about personal issues or being honest with them about what they’re doing wrong. In turn, they should be just as open with you. If you can’t communicate, you’ll never know what’s wrong and the problems in your relationship will fester and eventually get the best of you.

4) You compare him or her to others.

Thinking about how much funnier that gorgeous bartender is than your girlfriend or how much more stimulating the conversation would be with that cutie from the gym? That means something is unfulfilled in your relationship. If you have a voice inside you that doubts your relationship, you should probably listen to it. Sure, even people who are happy may have fantasies about others, but when those thoughts become consuming, it’s a problem. This can be fixed by communicating with them what it is you want more (or less) of. If they heed your suggestions, you may just find that all you needed to do was talk to them. However, if you’ve tried this and it isn’t working, move on.

5) The cons outweigh the pros.

This may be cheesy, but it works. If you can’t make a decision on the fate of your relationship, make a list of your partner’s pros and another list of their cons. Compare these side by side and determine which list is more overwhelming. Even if one side has more points, the other side’s points may hold more weight. If the cons outweigh the pros and you’ve exhausted all your options in trying to make it work, your relationship has most likely reached the end of the road.

“A sign that my relationship isn’t working is when I’m no longer concerned if that person and I continue our relationship or not. When I can no longer see a future with my significant other, that’s usually my sign that our relationship is no longer working.” Miracle Rosey

P.S-- Break-ups are no fun, but they happen. It may hurt for a bit, but it’s not the end of the world. It doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you or the other person, it’s simply a matter of finding your match. The important thing is to try to make it work and not to give up at the first sign of a problem. If you don’t learn how to resolve issues in your relationships now, they’ll only continue to suffer as time goes on.