Consternation

                          

It was Mihir’s first day at office, and he had to work overtime the very first day; so basically, it was his first day and night at the office. He was a trainee, an apprentice. He had to learn his work from his seniors. In the morning itself, he had met Akshay, his senior. They had exchanged glances and had talked about work. Akshay was a down to earth person, for he didn’t show dominance over his junior, Mihir. They had become more like friends than colleagues. In the evening, Akshay had to rush home due to an emergency, and that is why the very first day had turned out to be an overtime one for Mihir.

Before leaving, Akshay explained all the work to Mihir, and asked him to do it on his behalf. Mihir agreed. Akshay waited for some time, for checking if Mihir had understood the work to be done correctly. Bidding a goodbye to all his colleagues, Akshay left.

Soon after that, the other people from the office began to leave, too. About two hours later, Mihir was alone in the office. He looked here and there, at the empty seats of his mates. He was getting bored, so he decided to play subway surfers for some time, and then continue his work again. He was utterly engrossed in skipping the hurdles, jumping from one train to the other and escaping the hands of the Inspector, when he heard a chair move. He paused the game and walked to the direction of the chair.

There was a pin-drop silence, with not even a breeze. There was no one in the office other than him, and Sharma ji, the security guard on the gate. Then how did the chair move? His heartbeats got faster, while he asked, “Who’s in there?” He went near the chair to find out that it was perfectly at its place. He thought it was his over thinking. He laughed at himself and went back to his place. Little did he know, this was just the beginning.

Everything was perfectly fine till 1 am. Mihir was making the presentation Akshay had asked him to. Suddenly, Mihir heard someone’s footsteps. He stood up, sweating a little.

“Is it you, Sharma ji?” He asked. There came no reply.

The steps were still audible to him. As and as he went in the direction of the steps, they seemed farther. Following the steps, he had reached the parking lot. There were still 4 cars there, and he couldn’t figure out where his own car was. Yes, the four vehicles didn’t have his car. He called Sharma ji.

“Sharma ji! Come here! Sharma ji!” He yelled.

Sharma ji showed no signs. Mihir was now genuinely scared. He ran throughout the parking. Neither the steps were audible now, nor could he find out his car. Suddenly, the headlights of all the vehicles started blinking. He looked here and there, terrified. He held his head.

“What is going on here?” He screamed.

No reply came by, but those four vehicles began moving now, from all four directions, towards Mihir. He shrieked, “Aaahhh!” The vehicles sped up, and so did his heartbeats.

“Pleaseee, don’t. Please.” He shouted again, and collapsed on his knees and closed his eyes.

The cars stopped an inch away from him. He stood up and ran, as fast as he could, as far as he could. He went near the lift, and entered in. The door closed. As soon as the lift started, he let out a sigh of relief. But this wasn’t the end; fear was still waiting for him. He sat down, for he was tired of running and engulfed by fear.

Suddenly, the lift stopped between the eighth and the ninth floor. The lights went off. He heard those footsteps again.

“Who’s there? Help me. Help me, please. I’m stuck in here, in the lift. Please help me.” He cried. No one replied, but he heard another noise of someone cutting some sort of wire. And as soon as the noise stopped, the lift crashed down. The lift was going down and Mihir was crying by now.

He was screaming, and closed his eyes for the worst.

Death is the only truth of life, and when it arrives, we are left spellbound and everything is beyond our control. All of our lives, the only fear we live in, is that of death. But when we face it in real, is it really a fear? The feeling is eternal; we are not bound by even our fear at that time, no?

The lift was crashing down and Mihir was prepared to face The Fear. But, life had some other plans. Mihir fainted. No one knows what happened then. It was 3.30 am, when he woke up in the cabin of his boss. He tried hard to remember how he had landed there. But he didn’t remember anything after the lift crash. How had he survived?

At first, he thought he had been dreaming about all that’d happened. But then, he should’ve been at his place and not this cabin. He was confused, so to confirm if all of those incidents had happened in real, he went near the lift. The lift had crashed completely. Mihir was shocked. Then, he went in the parking lot. There were those four cars again, and he was convinced now, that it wasn’t his dream. It had happened in real. But then, how was he okay?

Was he dead? Was this office haunted?

Mihir went back to his place. He sat on his cubicle, and began completing the presentation he had begun working on, ages ago. But he was still afraid, nothing was certain. He worked for some time, then. But all that began again. The computer on the cubicle beside his turned on, on its own. On its screen was written, “The end is near.”

The electricity went off. Mihir began running; and entered his boss’ cabin again. That was a cruel night, the dim light was blinking and there were voices of people laughing, but there was no one around. Time seemed to have stopped in that moment, Mihir’s heart was about to fail due to fear.

“Who are you? What do you want? Why are you doing this to me?” Mihir cried loudly, scared to death.

Suddenly all the lights turned on, and Akshay walked in.

“Got scared my boy? It was just a prank!” Akshay said and laughed hard on Mihir, “I had thought of you as a brave man, but it seems that you’re still a coward boy!” Akshay laughed again.

Mihir stood up, wiped out his tears and hugged Akshay. Mihir’s eyes were red. He smirked and whispered in Akshay’s ear, “The biggest prank had been played on you. I had been dead seven years ago, here, in this office. Catch me if you can.”

Hearing this, Akshay fainted.

The next morning, Akshay woke up, to find out that there was no trainee named Mihir ever registered in the office.

Why every girl deserves a guy like Augustus Waters.

Augustus Waters is a name every girl has heard of. And in no way, there's a doubt about some or the other day, each girl has thought of having Augustus Waters all to herself. So what makes this fictional character so appealing and amazing? Here are a few reasons every girl should have her Augustus Waters in her life.

1. He's there for you when you don't believe in yourself: Yes, he's seen it all. Not just all the good times, but he has seen you fall apart and get back together. And through everything, he's been there to support you and make you believe that you are worth!

2. He is willing to adaptible for you: He knows how mad you can get, how moody you are, and how small things give you the biggest happiness. He is willing to change his behavior for you, and never complain!

3. He's your best friend: Remember Hazel Grace saying, "The only person I wanted to talk about Augustus Waters' death was Augustus Waters." You can talk to him about anything in the world and know he'd stick through!

4. He's gorgeous: Of course, good looks are just a bonus if the person with you is good at heart. A glance at him, and you experience the happiness like never before. He's magical.

5. He understands you: From your wildest dreams to weirdest wishes, he knows it all. And still thinks of you as sane and encourages you to pursue your dreams. Even at your lowest, you can cry your heart out with him and you know, he just understands.

6. He looks at you 'that' way: You just know by the way he looks at you, his eyes speak everything he wants to. The love and affection, you can read in his eyes and sense in his smile.

7. He never hurts you: Yes, at least not intentionally. He tries his level best and even more than that, to keep you happy and fulfill your wishes. He's an angel sent to earth for you.

8. You're sure about him: Sure in the sense, you know he's yours and he won't cheat you or leave you, no matter what. Despite of the hurdles in your relationship, he's willing to stay and sort, instead of leaving.

9. Only death can tear you apart: Although only physically, but death is a constraint and the only one. You know you both are together as long as you live. :)

Enwreathed by fear.

I stood etiolated. I could not figure out what was happening around me. I looked here and there. There was a bunch of known people, while all the others were unknown faces. I was dumbfounded. Things weren’t making sense to me, at least not anymore. Where on the earth was I? What was happening?

I looked at myself. My hairs were open, little messed. I looked blurred, literally. I wore a knee-length yellow piece of cloth, which dangled through my right shoulder. I wasn’t wearing my ring, or watch, or bangle, which I always wore. And this dress? Oh, I couldn’t even make out what attire it was. It was just loosely wrapped around my body. I seemed a little whitish to me- not fairer, but white. My heart had started pounding. I was pale and dull.

I realized people were coming to me, but it was as if none of them saw me. They kept coming, offered sweets and flowers at my feet. But I was sure, they didn’t see me. Why were they not seeing me? Why did no one notice me and my weirdness? I ignored, but stood there. I’d thought when someone known would come; I’d ask them what was going on in here. But all the familiar faces had gone by now. I was alone with these unknown people, and none of them was even looking at me. I felt nauseous. I felt like crying.

I looked straight, in front of me. It was a huge hall, with two doors, one at the leftmost corner in front, and beside it, following a wall, was another door in the rightmost corner. People were entering from the right door and leaving from the left. My eyes kept searching for Mithil, he would surely tell me what was happening.

Mithil, the name itself brought a smile on my face, in spite of the complexities I was in, right now. Mithil was the love of my life cum my best friend cum everything. He made it all worth. He made me live through all the bad times. He loved me unconditionally and I loved him, too. Coming to the present, though I couldn’t find him, I had a gut feeling that he was present there. There is this power in the universe, which connects us to the one we love. I could sense him.

I carefully crossed all the things kept near my feet and entered the crowd. People were talking amongst themselves, and now I thought maybe I knew each one of them. I was just unable to recollect who they were. As I overheard some of them talking, I realized everyone was sad, condolences were being offered and tears were being wiped. I wanted to be sad and cry, too. I couldn’t. Like, someone had surgically taken away those abilities from me. I felt eternal, not happy or sad, just eternal. It was as if I was in the air, I felt light and warm. I wanted to touch something, somebody, or anything. I looked here and there and searched for Mithil.

Finally, I spotted him near the right door. People were entering from that door, and he was leaving. Silly! I thought, he’s always up to something people don’t do. Silly, silly! I loved him to the bits. I began walking towards him. I called him out. Nobody near me heard my voice. I was genuinely scared. I ran towards him. He didn’t seem to see me.

I reached the door. I tried to hold his hand. I could not. I couldn’t get the grip. Neither did he feel my touch. He looked at me, but looked through me, past me. To the place I was standing before. “I miss you,” he said. I couldn’t comprehend whom did he miss, I was right there. I yelled aloud. He didn’t hear me. My eyebrows narrowed out of fear. I screamed his name. He still didn’t hear, didn’t see me. I had gotten restless by now.

Mithil walked out of the door, shedding a tear. Why was he crying? Why didn’t he hear me? Why didn’t anyone hear me? What the hell was happening? I ran hastily, frightened, looking for someone who'd see me, hear me, notice me at least. There was no one. Each second ticked in my mind, scaring me more and more. I keep running. I kept touching people. I kept screaming aloud. Louder. More louder. In vain.

People didn’t see me, people didn’t hear me. They were all sad. They were crying. Nobody even showed a sign of seeing me there.

Was I . . dead? 

“NO. . .!” I shouted, and woke up. I was dreaming. I checked the time, it was 2.56 am, and had an unread text. I knew it was of Mithil.

“Good night, baby. I love you a lot.” It read.

I smiled.

A Great Teacher.

            Teaching people is one of the toughest jobs, I believe. It actually means moulding the beliefs and mindsets people hold about things. And to be honest, it requires gumptions and guts to present our knowledge before a crowd of people, who are absolutely unaware of what is going to be spoken. A teacher is the one who lays the foundation, the base. It’s a huge responsibility, and there’s always a risk. But, higher the risk, higher the reward!

“A mediocre teacher tells. A good teacher explains. A superior teacher demonstrates. But a great teacher inspires.”

So, who is great teacher? A person flaunting the certificate of his degree everywhere and to everyone he meets? Or, a person who can preach a sense of learning in his students? I guess the latter one. A teacher is the one who befriends his students and showers all his knowledge on them.

Let us try to figure out, what qualities are essential for being a great teacher?

            Firstly, a great teacher is adaptable. He can change his tricks and ways of teaching according to the crowd in front of him, depending on the situations and purposes. A great teacher is willing to change and amend even his traditional ways of teaching to make his students learn.

Secondly, a great teacher understands. He knows, not all students are of equal calibre. He recognizes the skills and talents of his students and encourages them to pursue and improvise the same. A great teacher is a great motivation, and the biggest energy booster anyone can have.

Then, a great teacher is a role model of all. He has such a good image sculpted in everyone’s eyes, that his students become fond of him. He has such an ideal and impressive personality, that everyone wants to have the same depth of knowledge as his, and ultimately, he is regarded to be everyone’s role model.

To come next, a great teacher is worthy. His students adore him to the fullest and he leaves a noteworthy mark on everyone’s hearts and minds. His students look forward to the time when they would be learning new things from him. He carves even the minutest parts of his students’ personalities.

Again, a good teacher is impartial. He doesn’t cling to prejudices and treats everyone equally. He has a clean heart, which doesn’t differentiate between his students. He considers everyone as his ‘own’ and gives away all the love he has, equally to everyone. He acts strict at times, but always wants his students to excel in whatever they do.

A good teacher can read eyes. Just by looking at his students, he can know if something is wrong with them. He knows and understands if his students are happy, or the other way, if something is bothering them. He has this supernatural power. He can identify if everyone understands what he explains.

Lastly, a good teacher acts like a friend, family, companion, philosopher and guide. He sometimes shows his dominance, but there’s also a sober side to him, which comes out when his pals need him. May it be personal, professional or related to studies, a great teacher is always there to rescue his students from whatever situation they’re in.

Vishal Sir,

We all know and have experienced, the way you teach, talk, act and help. We’re all genuinely indebted to you for all the knowledge you’ve given us, and also for what is yet to come. You have been a great teacher, an inspiring person all this while. On this auspicious occasion of your birthday, on the behalf of all, I say a BIG thank you, for whatever you have done for us, and for as many times you’ve been there to help us. You have your ways of making us learn things, but when we still don’t understand, you go out of your way to make us understand. You are a motivation, a role model of almost everyone. You very well understand us and our abilities and flaws. You’re there to our rescue each time, pushing us to try harder the next time. We really look forward to learn things from you, you make everything interesting and reliable, giving us your owned ‘illogical logics.’

Thank you so much, Sir, from the bottom of our hearts. We all wish you a VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY. May you have many more birthdays to come, and may you keep spreading your knowledge to everyone.

Thank you. :)

Well, heart. :)

Heart. According to science, the only function it has to perform is to pump blood and make us live. No book, no movie, not even a person has tried to thank his/her heart, or say sorry, because whatever it feels, it’s because of us. It’s we who are responsible for heart, aren’t we? But no one’s ever mentioned a word of appreciation about the small organ, which actually defines us and our existence.

When someone is kind and helping, we opine that the person is good ‘at heart.’

When someone is unpleasant, we say he has a dark ‘heart.’

When we’re sad, we conclude saying, ‘my heart feels heavy.’

People long to have a ‘heart to heart’ conversation with their loved ones.

When we’re happy about someone’s success, we wish them ‘hearty’ congratulations.

Some people are sad because they are 'heartbroken.'

What I meant was, this little thing has its involvement everywhere. Whatever we feel, it’s through our heart. Ever thought of the things it has taught us? Ever thought of thanking its presence? Well, I’m here to do the same today.

Our heart has infinite capacity to feel things, I believe. We love with all our heart, we hate with all our heart. We even remember things 'by heart.' Yet sometimes, it feels so much of pain that it becomes unbearable, but oh, don't underestimate the ability of your heart, there are people who are so broken from inside, but show strong. How? Because yes, feeling strong is again a feeling and that gets heart connected to it. Actually, our heart has a role to play almost everywhere.

My heart has taught me to live, to love, to hate. It has taught me to accept the things I cannot change. It assures me things will be fine. Don’t you people, when sad, put your hand across your chest near your heart, to express the intensity of the pain you feel? I’m sure you do. There are so many emotions crowded inside this little organ, love, hate, respect, gratitude, jealousy, sorrow, despair and longing, everything connects to the heart. Ever heard people saying, I’m happy with all my mind? No! They say, I’m happy with all my heart. This fist-sized-thing matters a lot, now you see.

And yes, I want to thank my heart, too, for making me feel all those things I couldn’t have known existed. Had my heart not made me capable of feeling so, I wouldn’t have known the depth of my own emotions. So, a BIG thank you to my heart, for first of all pumping blood, then for beating fast when I came across that person, for aching sometimes to make me believe that I’m still alive, for making me love and respect some people, and for making me realize that everyone is good at heart, no matter how they behave.

Anyway, the most beautiful thing on this earth cannot be seen or touched. It can be felt at heart.

A Walk To Remember.

I don't know what had happened that day. Since morning, I had the feeling of incompleteness and something was pricking me hard from inside. Something was telling me, I had to make the day complete. But how? The day was usual, same routine I had been following for nearly six months now, then what was bothering me so much today? I couldn't concentrate on anything. Studies seemed to disinterest me, and other pastimes seemed dull and empty. I couldn't understand myself what was happening. I couldn't comprehend what was missing.

Finally, I came back to my room from wherever I was. I thought I needed some rest. But when I lied down on my bed, I was just tossing and turning, and all my emotions were acting alien to me. I wasn't feeling anything, except restlessness. I wanted to do something. But what? I walked here and there within the house. No use. Turned on the TV, still feeling indifferent. Tried talking to my roommates, but couldn't concentrate on what they were speaking, either. Finally, I decided to go out and spend some quality time with myself. But again, where to go? I took the keys of my vehicle and a water bottle with me. All this while, I had been knuckling. Something that I didn’t do usually. Something was definitely wrong.

I went downstairs, in the parking of my building and looked at my red-colored-Activa. It seemed at peace, so I thought I shouldn’t disturb it. I giggled at myself. Then I began walking to I-Don’t-Know-Where. While walking, I had the feeling of something missing, I had been deprived of something these days. Just that I couldn’t figure out what.

I came out of my society’s campus. There were huge trees and children were playing around it, running, falling over each other and laughing. I stopped by, to watch them. They seemed carefree; the kind of victorious smile was on their face, like no worry had ever hovered around them. One of the kids pushed the other one, but as soon as he fell down, he lent him his hand to stand up. And after that, there was no quarrel among them. Again they began to play like nothing had happened.

Yes! Maybe I miss the genuine smile I used to have, nowadays to cope up and stand up with the world, I’ve become so fake and presented that I have lost the authenticity of my smile. I miss helping others when I have let them down. In today’s world, life is no less than a race. Nobody has time to lend their hand to the one they’ve disappointed. I miss being a child.

I smiled at myself, and kept walking further. There was grocery store. It was crowded. I went near it, I don’t know why. There was an old lady, who couldn’t get into the crowd.

“May I help you, Aunty?” I asked her.

She looked at me with sheer surprise. I smiled at her.

“What do you want to get?” I asked her again.

“Get me two kgs of rice and a jar of pickle, please.” She said with such sweetness, I could’ve bought the entire store for her.

“Sure,” I said instead and asked her to wait outside. I entered the crowd and bought whatever she had told me. When I came out of the crowd, her eyes were filled with happiness.

“Where are you going, Aunty? Shall I carry this for you? It’s a bit heavy.” I said.

“I live nearby, beta. I’ll carry it. That was so generous of you to help me. Here, take the money--”

“No, no. It’s fine. I hope we’ll meet again.” I said.

“I’m sure we would. My son had gotten married five years ago. His wife doesn’t want to stay with me. She thinks I’m a burden. She doesn’t let my son meet me, too. Nor my grandchildren. But you know, my son is visiting me tonight for dinner, alone. But I know he’d come back to me soon. It’s not his fault, you know. I’ve forgiven them. And I know, his wife will understand one day.” She smiled widely and said.

“Oh! Then I wish he comes soon. Take care, Aunty. If you need me, visit my place, I stay just two blocks away.” I said.

She went away after that.

Yes! Maybe I miss being positive about my life. Life has paced up with such rapid speed, with all my emotions acting so adversely and negatively, I’ve almost forgotten that there’s an optimistic side to everything, too. I get so angry over petty things; I’ve forgotten how to forgive. I miss having the ability to let go of things I cannot change.

On my way, I reached a highway. I walked by the footpath. It had become dark now, the sun had set already. I still didn’t feel satisfied, so I hadn’t even thought of going back to my room. Along the footpath and under the flyover, there were people- sitting, sleeping, crying. I just looked at them. Someone touched my kurti. I saw a little child, seemingly malnourished, grab my hand. He asked me for some money. He was dark, with no shirt put on. His hairs were ruffled, and hands had numerous injuries. My heart melted at this sight, and I gave him a hundred-rupee-note.

“Didi, bhook lagi hain.” He said with a tint of sadness in his voice.

I took him to a nearby sweets shop and bought a few samosas for him. He looked at me with happiness in his eyes and tears rolling down his cheeks. I saw him then going to the footpath and sharing it with his entire family. All of them looked happy, satisfied.

Yes! Maybe I miss being satisfied in my life. Human wants are unlimited and are an exception to the theory of Diminishing Marginal Utility. Everyone wants more of everything, may it be money, or love or fame. Nobody is ever satisfied. I miss feeling content with whatever I had, and not sad for what I didn’t have. I miss feeling complete.

As I went further, I saw a man arguing with an autorickshaw driver. I could figure out they were discussing something over the fare-rate that had been charged. I went there and asked what had happened. The autorickshaw driver told me that the man didn’t have enough money to pay the fare. I asked how much he was short of.

“Behen, 12 Rupees.” The man with a dhoti and a turban said.

“Here.” I said. I didn’t know why I was helping everyone I met. I just felt like I should.

The autorickshaw driver went away. The man thanked me over and over again, but deep inside, he looked concerned for something. When I asked him, he told me that this year, it hadn’t rained enough and he couldn’t harvest the crops. He needed to use fertilizers and that’s why he was here, to buy those. But the cost of those fertilizers had increased with its demand; everyone needed it due to shortage of rains. And all his money was spent in buying those fertilizers.

“But I have a hope in my heart. Though it hasn’t rained much this year, next year it would. God won’t be so cruel. He won’t let us die of starvation. I have faith in Him.” He said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Haan ji,” I said, “hope is a good thing.” I said.

“But what are you doing here at this time? It’s 8.30. You should go home now. It’s late. Aur yeh duniya acchi nahin hain.” He said.

Soon, he bid me a goodbye and went back. I, too, headed back to my room.

Yes! Maybe I miss having a hope, I miss having that little light of goodness in all the dark and adverse circumstances. I miss talking to Him in my saddest days, I miss having faith in Him and I miss believing that whatever He does, He does for good.

As soon as I reached home, I tucked myself in my bed, knowing that I had realized what I was deprived of. I feel eternal. I feel so good the way it is, but I don’t tell it to anyone. I keep it confined to myself. I feel positive and satisfied. Thinking about the goodness of my life, I fall asleep.

Mucked up - in love, by love.

Who says studious people are always nerds?

Kabir Ahuja, a badminton player, was a cool dude and studious as well. He was a perfect combination of waste and responsible. He could make any girl go weak in her knees by his looks alone. Despite of all the flings he used to have, never did the scoreboard miss his name on the top. He was a smart-looking, wheatish complexioned, 6’2” height, muscular guy who never missed his gym and practice. He’d once fallen for Rochelle, his classmate. And ever since then, he couldn’t take his eyes of her when she was around. All his flings seemed meaningless and it was like she was the one he’d been looking for, after all this time. The only time Rochelle talked to Kabir was on the day of results. She always stood second, the first one, always being Kabir.

Rochelle Leo, was as well a smart girl. A moderate 5’5” height, fair complexion and her hairs always left open, she could easily make a guy skip a beat. Secretly, she had a thing for the not-so-nerdy Kabir, but him being so cool, she never gathered the guts to talk to him. The only chance she got to converse with her crush was results. He always stood first and she was happier for him. Never did she think, Kabir might like her, too.

They studied BBA. Their SY mid-terms results were out and Rochelle stood first this time. She went to Kabir, to find out he stood third, not even second. When she asked him the reason, she came to terms with his inter-college badminton matches. That was the first time they talked about something other than studies. He asked her out for a coffee and she readily agreed. And they talked for hours since then, about everything, except their feelings about each other.

They soon became the best of friends. Both of them were targeted towards one single goal, to get a chance to win the scholarship with the highest marks, for MBA. They’d found within each other, a buddy, a family, a home. They could confess everything to each other. Yet, neither of them ever talked a word about how they felt.

Once, when they were sitting in the college canteen, Rochelle asked Kabir if he loved anyone and when he said he did, her face dropped. Kabir knew her a bit too well now, and seeing the drastic change in her, he decided to confide her with his feelings. So he just held her hand and kissed it, saying a mild and yet intoxicating, “I love you, Rochelle.”

And she couldn’t believe her ears, what she’d just heard. She asked him again and again, millions of time. And each time he said those words, she couldn’t help her smile. She was so ecstatic, she barely mumbled, “I love you, too Kabir.” When Kabir pretended that he didn’t hear, she screamed aloud, “Kabir! I love you!”

And that’s how the news of their relationship spread like fire in the college. The girls who were dying to get Kabir’s attention were heartbroken, and the boys swooning around Rochelle now knew, if Kabir ever gets to know about them, they would have to disappear into thin air.

So that’s how it had begun. The college toppers had fallen in love with each other and were inseparable. Kabir didn’t even look at anyone other than Rochelle, or even if he did, they used to rate other girls’ butts together. They were best friends, more than a couple. She could tell him if she found anyone hot. Of course, Kabir used to get jealous, but they trusted each other much more than they themselves could ever interpret. Their families knew that they were best friends, but they thought it was way too early to tell their families about their relationship. It would’ve been a scene then, a Hindu boy, college topper, badminton champion, in love with a Christian girl, who was a second ranker!

The last year of BBA went pretty well and during their annual examination, both of them studied hard for the scholarship. If Rochelle got it, Kabir would’ve been equally happy and vice versa. There was no competition between them and they used to be happy for each others’ success. The exam went well, too. Now it was the time for the results of the scholarship. The college management was going to take the average of three years’ of BBA’s marks, and the person scoring the highest would be granted the scholarship. Even all the students and professors were curious to find out who it was, amongst Kabir and Rochelle.

And the biggest coincidence of their life happened. Kabir and Rochelle, both scored dot 87.64% and the management had to grant the scholarship to both of them. They’d never been so happy before. Rochelle was dancing and singing and expressing her joy, but Kabir stood in a corner. He was, no doubt, very happy, but he wasn’t expressing it as hard as Rochelle.

Rochelle knew something was wrong, so she went straightaway to Kabir and asked him about what had happened. He knew he couldn’t hide anything from her. She could read his eyes.

“Rochelle, you know I love you true, right?” He asked. She nodded affirmatively, visibly worried.

“Love, the thing is,” he held her hand and said, “My Dad’s elder cousin, my Uncle, Mr. Bhupen Ahuja, is the Dean of the college we’re supposed to go in, now. You know, right? Roch, if he finds out about us, he’ll tell my Dad, and then my Dad wouldn’t let us live at peace, we belong to different religions. We have different Gods.”

Rochelle was about to cry. She was trying to speak but words couldn’t pop out.

“Hey, Roch! Don’t cry, love. Ssh. I’m not leaving you. I’m just saying we need to keep our relationship a secret. At the right time, I’ll tell my Dad and I know he’ll agree. Don’t feel so bad. Roch, I love you! Don’t cry, please? He cupped her face in his hands and said.

“I know you won’t leave me, Kabir. I love you, too. I’m okay with this keeping a secret thing. If my parents find out, even they won’t agree right now. So for the time being, let’s love each other secretly.” She giggled and Kabir sighed.

Her smile was the thing Kabir could move mountains for. When she cried, everything seemed unpleasant to him. She was his world. Her happiness was his life. She was his drug.

Rochelle understood Kabir too well, and she knew whatever he did was for their benefit. She knew he won’t let their relationship just fade away like that. She could comprehend all the little efforts taken by Kabir. She felt too lucky to have him in her life.

So they enjoyed the last few days of their roaming together in their hometown. They went shopping together and packed bags for each other. Life had speeded up and they were in the process of coping up with the pace. They watched movies together, cried, laughed and fought. They were meant to be.

When it was time, they bid a happy and smiling farewell to their families, and went to their new college, a new city, in a group of new faces.

The new college was perfect. The management introduced Kabir and Rochelle to the entire college as scholarship holders, and people soon titled them as studiously cool. Their relationship was kept a secret and they used to steal glances of each other, during the classes. They lived in the hostel and most of the times, met under the name of assignments and studies. They had made a group of friends, but they were always so engrossed in each other, talking by eye movements, sighs and stolen kisses. To a third person, they’d appear just topper friends, who talked about nothing but studies. They had concealed it so well.

In their new group of friends, were Amisha, the nerd, who never even thought about anything except studies (that’s how her image was, but deep inside, she was a diehard romantic), Shashank, the dude, but still inferior to Kabir (or that’s what girls used to think), Amar, the macho man, whose gym was his second home, and Mukti, who was sober, innocent.

It was visibly clear that Amisha had a thing for Kabir, and Rochelle used to get immensely jealous when she was around Kabir. Kabir used to avoid Amisha, because his girl wasn’t comfortable with him talking to her. And Rochelle’s happiness was his topmost priority, so for Rochelle, he didn’t give a damn to Amisha’s constant clingy behaviour.

Mukti secretly liked Amar, but she never dared to speak it up in front of him. While Amar was unaware of Mukti’s feelings, he’d developed a soft corner for Rochelle, which Rochelle or Kabir of course didn’t know. Shashank had a girlfriend already, so he was never into impressing any of these girls.

Life was moving with a rapid pace. Their MBA first semester exams had just begun. Everyone was concentrated at only studies. They used to hang out on usual days, had fun, went to movies and partied. But during exam days, they would forget all luxuries and study. It was a good thing, actually.

When the results were out, Kabir as usual, had stood first and Rochelle, second again. Amisha was third and Shashank was eighth, and Amar and Mukti were nowhere in the rank list. They’d just passed.

These results gave Kabir and Rochelle another opportunity to meet and talk and hang out together, but Amisha was always there with them, for she always wanted to stay close to Kabir and frankly, even Kabir used to get irritated at her adhering behaviour, but in no way he could be rude to a girl to ask him to stay away from him. Yet, indirectly he’d asked Amisha a couple of times to maintain some distance from him, but she had never really understood. Dumb!

Once, they were having dinner together, when Amar passed a note to Rochelle, and Kabir saw that. He asked her to read that alone, so she excused herself from the group.

The note read,

“Dear Rochelle,

There’s something I need to tell you. Do you mind coming to the basketball court at 1 am, when everyone’s fast asleep? What I want to say is really important and I cannot wait anymore. Just be there, please.

Love,

Amar.”

Rochelle read it and got genuinely confused. She crumbled it and threw it in the nearby dustbin. Then she came back and had dinner with everyone.

Kabir wasn’t at peace since he saw Amar giving that piece of paper to Rochelle. He’d seen Rochelle throwing it in the dustbin, so after the dinner, he picked that note from the dustbin and read it. He couldn’t comprehend what Amar wanted to tell Rochelle, but at the back of his mind, he knew something bad was going to happen.

At 1 am, when everyone had slept, Rochelle slipped out of her room and went to the basketball court, as Amar had said. She found Amar waiting there already. So she went to him and said, “Hey Amar, what happened? Why did you call me here at this time? What do you want to say?”

Amar turned back, “Rochelle” he whispered.

“Yes, say.” Rochelle said.

Then, Amar suddenly began touching and caressing her neck and cheeks and begun saying, “I love you so much, Rochelle!”

Rochelle tried to move away, but Amar held her waist and said, “I just wanted to say, just look at you, I mean, you’re hot. You’re appealing. We’d make a hot couple. Just think about us.”

Amar began to pull Rochelle closer and all her attempts of moving away from him were futile.

“What are you saying, Amar? Please leave me. Let me go. I.. I don’t want this.. Pleasee..” She was saying, but Amar didn’t release her.

Suddenly someone pulled Amar away from Rochelle and punched him in his face. It was Kabir. He had been there because he wanted to know what Amar wanted to say to Rochelle. He’d been worried for Rochelle, but owing to what Amar had done, Kabir had lost his mind and had hit him hard.

“What’s your problem, dude? Why are you hitting me?” Amar asked Kabir. But Kabir was damn furious and in no mood to even talk to him, so he hit Amar once again, in his belly.

“Kabir, what’s the matter?” Amar was asking, but Kabir didn’t heed his questions and looked angrily at him. Rochelle tried to stop Kabir, but Kabir pushed her aside and yelled at Amar, “STAY AWAY FROM HER YOU ASSHOLE.”

 “Who are YOU to tell this to me? It’s my life and hers. Who are YOU to speak in between? Fuck off from here. Don’t you dare to interfere,” Amar shouted back and waived a middle finger to Kabir.

Rochelle stopped them, and asked Amar to go back. Amar was angry, too. So he went. Rochelle and Kabir stood there, facing each other. Rochelle asked him to calm down, but he shouted back at her, saying that it was all her fault, to have come there at this time, and that too alone. Then, he pointed out at the shorts she’d worn, and said that her clothes would’ve been making boys desperate to get her in bed. Rochelle was hurt.

Yet, she tried telling him that she didn’t know about Amar’s intentions but Kabir pushed her aside and walked away. She screamed but Kabir didn’t stop. So she went running behind him and stopped him.

She said, “Kabir, don’t get so angry. If the Dean comes to know about your fight with Amar, he’d for sure want to know the reason. What would you tell him? What would you tell Amar, why you have hit him? What would you answer everybody, Kabir? Listen to me, calm down. We don’t want this issue to come up right now. That is why we’ve kept our relationship a secret, right? Please understand. This would destroy everything. Your anger, it would overpower our love, Kabir. Please, calm down.”

But Kabir had lost his senses, the very thought of Amar touching his Rochelle had gotten on his nerves and so he wasn’t able to calm down. He pushed Rochelle again, and went back to his room.

Rochelle got her right arm fractured, because Kabir had pushed her and she had fallen down. When asked about what she was doing at the badminton court at night, she faked a story that she wasn’t sleepy so she was just roaming, and her leg fell inappropriately and she was imbalanced and she fell down on her right arm.

But deep inside, she was angry at Kabir, for not understanding her. When Kabir got to know about Rochelle’s broken hand, he knew it was because of him. He felt guilty, so he went to Rochelle for apologizing. But Rochelle was angry at him, so she just said, “Go away, Kabir. It’s over. You could have listened to me, you could have understood me. But NO! You and your anger. You blamed it all on me, knowing I haven’t done anything on purpose. What I was saying was for your benefit. And you pushed me and didn’t even look back once. Why are you coming back now? It’s over!”

Kabir was hurt. He tried convincing her for a few days, but she didn’t budge even an inch. Kabir knew that Rochelle was just angry. She didn’t mean what she had said. He knew she loved him. So he made up his mind to win her back. He knew she didn’t like Amisha hovering around Kabir and that she would definitely get jealous if he hung out with her. So that’s what he did.

Whenever Rochelle was around, Kabir stayed close to Amisha constantly. Amisha was on cloud nine, for the boy she liked was giving her the attention she wanted. It used to get on Rochelle’s nerves, but Kabir wasn’t hers now. She had let him go, but she could understand that Kabir was doing this just to make her jealous. She decided to hurt him back. She said yes to Amar, for that night’s proposal and would be with him in front of Kabir.

Kabir used to get jealous too. So, he started having his useless flings once again. But he never thought of any girl other than Rochelle. She used to dominate his thoughts. The same was with Rochelle too. Though she was with Amar, she used to think about only and only Kabir.

She used to remember all the times they had spent together at their old college, their confession of their love, the way Rochelle had screamed in the canteen and how there was no competition amongst them. She thought about all their love and how both of them had won the scholarship. Then she used to get sad, remembering that night when Kabir had gotten angry and said hurtful things for her and had pushed her. Her hand was healed now, but her heart still ached of that wound Kabir had given that night, by showing his anger at her, when she was not the one at fault. She used to feel bad, when she remembered how she had broken up with Kabir. She felt like she could have let go, like she could’ve understood. But now, it was too late. Kabir had become his old self again and Rochelle was left far behind by him. That’s what she thought.

Kabir felt like Rochelle had forgotten him, and that she was happy with Amar now. (Though there was no Amar in the picture from Rochelle’s side) He used to feel bad that he had gotten mad that night, and his anger took away all that he had. He used to cry at times, when he saw Rochelle all laughing and blushing with Amar. (Little did he know, Rochelle too did all this just to make Kabir jealous) Their first year of MBA, in the annual examination, neither Kabir nor Rochelle had topped, it was some unknown name.

Rochelle was worried that her absence was affecting Kabir’s academic performance, but that’s what was happening with her, too. She could do nothing except sob a little and feel sorry.

Kabir and Rochelle had stopped talking now. Long gone were those days when they used to talk by signalling in their code language. Deep inside, they knew they both still loved each other, but words had ceased to have meaning and memories seemed ashes of the past. Their second year had begun, with sadness filled in the air and longing for each other on its peak.

­­­­­­­­­­

They were in their lecture, when Kabir entered late. The professor asked him why he was late, to which Kabir gave a nonsensical reply. But him being a bright student, he was allowed to attend the lecture. His presence was bothering Rochelle, she couldn’t concentrate on what the professor was teaching. She glanced at Kabir, and saw that he was sitting with Mukti, and was utterly engrossed in understanding what the professor had to say.

As soon as the lecture got over, Rochelle rushed to her hostel room, not wanting to confront Kabir at all.

At night, Rochelle was thinking about how she couldn’t concentrate in the class today. She realized that Kabir still had an impact on her, no matter what he did. She thought of reading by herself, what she couldn’t understand in the class. So, she opened her bag to find out that her book wasn’t in there. She asked her roommate, but she didn’t have it, too. Rochelle thought she might’ve forgotten it in the class. So, she dressed up a bit, and told the warden that she’d forgotten her book in the class and she needed to get it back. The warden asked her to come back soon.

When Rochelle reached near their class, she heard some sniffing noises and two people talking, but she ignored those, she just wanted her book back. As soon as she opened the door of the class, she broke down. What she saw was something she had never imagined. Kabir and Mukti were hugging each other, were too close, and talking in whispers. The noise of the door made them part away a little, and seeing Rochelle with a tear rolling down her cheeks, Kabir tried to say something but Rochelle interrupted him and said, “Oh! I’m sorry to disturb you both. Actually, I’d forgotten my book and I just wanted to get it back. I’m sorry.” She wiped away her tear and went back to her room. Kabir followed her up to the corridor but soon, he rushed back to Mukti, and that hurt Rochelle even more.

After coming to her room, Rochelle sobbed a bit; then, she took out a paper and pen and began writing a note.

The note read,

“Dearest Kabir,

I don’t know what made me write this. I know you don’t belong to me anymore. It’s your life and I’m nobody to speak in what you do. I don’t have a say, I know. But what I saw tonight in the class has made me feel so hollow, like nothing else had, ever.

Kabir, the day when you had gotten angry and pushed me, I was angry, too. The day when I broke up with you was the worst day of my life. I’d said, anger would overpower our love and that’s what happened with me, too. My anger overpowered my love for you. Ever since that day, so many times, I felt like I should’ve understood your stand. I wish I’d not gotten back angry. I wish you had tried convincing me a bit more. I wish things could work out. But I know, it’s beyond my control now.

Whatever I did was to hurt you. I thought it was the same from your side. I thought you wanted to make me jealous. But tonight when I saw you with Mukti, I’m abashed to know that you’ve really moved on and I’m still stuck here, trying to cut chords with you. I haven’t been able to concentrate on my studies either. I wish you were with me. I wish all this had not happened.

I love you Kabir. I love you so very much. I love you more than you could ever imagine, more than words could ever speak. All the love in this world compiled together cannot match the level of my love for you. And it’s good that you’ve moved on. At least, you aren’t suffering like me. I hope this suffering would end. I wish I heal.

And yes, there’s nothing between me and Amar. It was just to show off to you. I thought you knew that I did everything to make you jealous. But you took it seriously; you thought Amar could replace you? Such a dumb creature you are!

I need a break from this chaos. I need a vacation. I cannot bear this environment, these faces, and these hardships anymore. All day long I have to pretend like nothing’s wrong. But I’m tired now. Seeing you with other girls, seeing you moved on. It makes me feel like a fool, thinking you’ve forgotten me and I’m still at that same badminton court, where you’d walked away from me. So I’m going back. I’ll come soon. I hope I get healed there. I hope time cures my grief.

I love you a lot, Kabir. And I will love you, forever. I cannot imagine anyone else at your place. Believe me, you’re the best. Best luck with your life. Stay happy.

I love you. I miss you.

With all my love,

Rochelle.”

Then, she woke her roommate up and handed the note to her and said, “Give this to Kabir Ahuja, the ranker, tomorrow.”

Then she packed her bags and moved out, informing the management that there was some emergency at her home and she couldn’t stay. She went back.

The next morning, as soon as Rochelle’s roommate handed over the note to Kabir, he couldn’t understand what to do. He was dumbstruck and his entire strong attitude came crashing down on him. That’s exactly what he’d been thinking all this while. He had thought that Rochelle had moved on with Amar and that’s why he hung out with random girls. He hadn’t seen this coming, he was broken. The only thing he could do right now was to go to Rochelle and clear things between them, for he too loved her true.

Kabir too faked a story and he was permitted to go back. On reaching his hometown, he directly went to Rochelle’s home. Her mom welcomed him warmly. He asked about Rochelle and her mom said that she was at Hambant Dam, one of her favourite places. Kabir went there, to find out Rochelle was sitting beneath a tree, lost in her own thoughts. He dropped his bag and ran towards her, and when she saw him, she couldn’t believe he was there. She never thought he’d come there. Kabir went to her and hugged her tightly.

After they broke their embrace, Rochelle asked him what he was doing there.

Kabir- “You stupid, why didn’t you wait there? We could’ve talked and sorted things out.”

Rochelle- “What do we talk now, Kabir?” I know you’ve moved on.”

Kabir- “Oh GOD! I haven’t moved on. I love you, my idiot. I still love you.”

Rochelle (yelling)- “What were you doing with Mukti that night, then?”

Kabir- “She was crying.”

Rochelle- “Don’t make stories now.”

Kabir- “Listen to me. I’m not making stories. Trust me, Mukti told Amar about her feelings for him, and he refused because he loves you. She was broken that night. I was just consoling her. I don’t move on by getting into relationships with random people, Roch.”

Rochelle- “What do you mean? I told you there was nothing between me and Amar. At least I don’t roam with other boys like you do. C’mon now. Don’t deviate the topic.”

Kabir- “I’m deviating the topic? Listen Roch, it was you who broke up with me. I didn’t leave you.”

Rochelle- “I wish I hadn’t. We’re so fucked up.”

Kabir- “That’s why we’re meant to be.”

And they hugged again. They’d gotten each other back, and said millions of I-love-you’s to each other. Then they went back to their college and accepted their relationship in front of everyone. Everyone raised their eyebrows, but soon the topic calmed down and no one raised a word after that.

After their MBA, they told their families, and they didn’t agree. After much of convincing session, they finally said a yes.

Kabir and Rochelle got married by both, Hindu and a Christian marriage ways. They were meant to be.

No matter what life does to us, we have that someone who knows us more than we ourselves know us. They’re our soul-mates. Kabir and Rochelle found their soul-mates within each other and lived happily ever after.

Him.

I haven't mentioned any name, but reading the title, some or the other name might've popped in your mind. Yes, keep that name and proceed.
He is breathtakingly beautiful. Beautiful, in a way which cannot be described. His warmth is all you need. His smile is your drug. He is the one you ask for in your prayers. His happiness equals yours. When he is in front of you, you cannot stop smiling. Sometimes, you just keep looking at him and wonder, how could you be so lucky? Happens, isn't it?
When you are with him, everything else ceases to matter and you feel ecstatic and eternal. There's not even a shred of any worry. Nothing bothers you, except thinking about the time when you'd have to say a goodbye to him. He is your favorite. And you love spending time with him. Every place you've visited with him, everything you've talked with him, means divine and priceless to you. When he touches you, you feel complete. When he holds your hand, you know you have got the strength to face the world. When you are in his embrace, you wish time would stop. When you see him sleeping, you feel something changing inside you, like you have got what you were born for. When he looks at you with a smirk, you know what he is thinking. You know him, a bit too well. You haven't, and cannot imagine someone else at his place, can you? There's no looking back when he's here with you. You are lost, in the depth of his eyes, in the warmth of his smile and in the trench of his words. He speaks a lot on some days. You wish, you could listen to him everyday, all the time. Some days, he's awfully silent. The silence between you both is comfortable, too. You know what you feel. Some days, you feel like screaming and shouting to the world, what you feel for him. And some days, you feel utterly confined within yourself and you're surprised by the depth of your own feelings. When he is engrossed in something, you just feel nice, knowing the value of the person you have, just by stealing a glance at them. Sometimes, he makes you angry. But you know, anger is just another way of showing love, or that is what I believe. Time flies fast, when you are together. You sometimes wish you could stop the time, just to admire what you have. The hardest part of being together is bidding a goodbye to him. You know you would meet him soon, but the mere thought of him not being there just after a matter of a few moments makes you feel slightly miserable. He's in your life, your heart, your soul, your habits. You cannot imagine a day without him. I know, he's your everything, isn't he?
Maybe you'd have told him a million times that you love him, but he'd never get tired of hearing that over and over again. So, take a moment out, and appreciate him and his efforts, his presence and his value.
Tell him, he's too precious to lose.
Stay happy! :)

Loneliness - It's not a feeling, it's a lifestyle.

#PoemsPorn

Eat alone. Sleep alone. Cuddle with yourself. Pamper yourself. Go on dates with none other than You. Hang out with yourself. Watch some movies on your own. Have your inner jokes. Laugh hard, alone, without anyone's need or approval. Buy yourself new clothes. Dance in the shower. Love your imperfections. When you don't feel sleepy at night, sing lullabies to yourself. Sometimes, cry alone, to death. But recover soon. Go on trips. See the beautiful nature. Live for yourself. On a weekend, dance on your bed with your hairs left open and your hips swinging off beat. Then, get tired and laugh at yourself. Scream till no voice comes out. Make a coffee for yourself. Write out your heart on a piece of paper and then burn it. On your birthday, gift yourself. Taste new dishes which you've never tried before. Buy that goddamned black hot stunning dress and put on your dark red lipstick. Call yourself hot. Dress up for yourself and click your pictures. Watch the sunset. Feel beautiful internally. Don't give a fuck about what others would think. Overcome your fears, especially for loneliness. Play games with yourself but never cheat. Try to fall in love with yourself. Don't give second thoughts about the things you love. Do what 'you' want. Talk to yourself. Read books and cry the entire night over the death of your favorite fictional character. Don't worry about the time, let it slip. Anyway it won't wait. Let it go. Feel free. Feel happy. When you become comfortable with yourself, loneliness doesn't always feel saddening.
Sometimes, it liberates your soul into your own little infinity. And then, it becomes your lifestyle. Love yourself as much as you want someone else to love you. And anyway, it is better to be alone than being with the wrong people.
Stay happy. :)

A letter to Life!

Dear Life,

I know you’re being tough. I know you want me to learn some basic lessons about how to become a good person. I know all your plans, and I agree that all of them are ideal. But come, walk in my shoes and I’ll show you, how I’ve got to face you every single day.

I’m a human being at first. A basic, good at heart human being. Or perhaps, that’s what I feel. As far as I remember, I’ve done no wrong to anyone. And I’m a firm believer in “What goes around comes around.” Yet, you’ve sculpted me this way. Shy, introvert, reserved and guarded. You’ve never let my walls down. In a group of people, I’m the most uncommunicative. All thanks to you.

Don’t mind me saying this today, but you’ve been a bitch since past few years. You’ve snatched away n number of friends from me, you’ve made me cry, you’ve made me stay up at night wondering about the futility of my love towards you, you’ve backstabbed me so many times, you’ve cheated on me, played with me, you’ve broken my heart and made me rethink if I really wanted to live. You’ve taken away all those people away from me whom I’d really loved and you’ve made me numb, too at times. You’ve made me angry, you’ve made me jealous. You’ve made me fall in and out of love. You’ve tried to kill me. You’ve made me wish I were someone else. You’ve betrayed me and you’ve broken my trust. It’s because of you that I don’t trust people now. You’ve made me believe that I’d be disliked wherever I’d go. You’ve made me think that I’m an ugly potato. You are the reason what I am today. I owe what I am to you.

Wait, it’s not done!

You’ve been an equal angel, too. You’ve made me fall in love again. You’ve given me new, beautiful friends. You’ve taught me to respect. You’ve taught me to stand by the truth. You’ve taught me to learn from my mistakes. You’ve taught me to stay strong when I was broken. You’ve taught me live. You’ve taught me to accept the things I cannot change. You’ve given me so many things I cannot even thank you for. You’ve given me this attitude towards life. So what, if I’m not those pretty and party girls type? I’m a nerd and sometimes, I’m proud to be one.

I don’t understand if I should blame you or thank you for making me this way?

Sometimes, I’m glad. Sometimes I’m furious.

Sometimes, I wish I’d disappear. Sometimes, I wish I could hug you.

Lets’ hang out, I’ll tell you more. You’d see the real me.

I know you understand me.

I know you’re the only one who understands me.

                                                                                  With love and hate,

                                                                                      Your Creation.

Ps. Thanks Arya, for giving me this topic. (Though in a twisted manner, you asked me to write about my friends and that’s when it struck me that I could write this.)