Thing called love.

She shut her eyes tightly, counted till ten, and opened them slowly hoping to see his face in front of her when she did. But all that was there were trees. Silent trees, that sway swiftly along with the breeze.

It had been three hours but she still waited, hoping that he would turn up. Hoping that he wouldn't ditch her. She sat on a bench in the corner of the park. That's where they always met, every week at the same time. But he didn't show up today. She cried a little because she missed him. She cried because she hated being stood up. She cried because she felt lost.
After waiting for four hours she finally decided to leave. While leaving the park, she smiled and waved at the lady who was also there every week at the same time. The lady smiled back her, but sympathetically.
She didn't feel like going home now, not after such a disappointing day. Wanting to do something to make herself feel better, she went to the nearby market. Maybe a new pair of shoes or some good food or some junk jewellery would cheer her up. But nothing did. She wandered around aimlessly and finally decided to go home, realizing that nothing would help her ease the pain.
She went home, rang the bell and a man opened the door. 'How was it?' he smiled and asked her. 'He didn't show up, again. Maybe he doesn't love me anymore. Or maybe he's found someone else. I don't know. I'm just too tired now, I think I'll go sleep.'
He watched her as she threw her bag on the sofa, took out her coat, went inside her room and shut the door. Just then, his sister came out from the other room. 'How do you do this? How do you manage to go around pretending everyday, knowing that she'll never remember you for what you are? Knowing that seeing her like this only causes you pain?' He smiled but his smile couldn't hide his tears. 'She'll realize one day. She'll realize that the man she goes to meet every week, the man she talks to, the man she thinks loves her, doesn't exist. And she'll realize that the man she always loved, the man that always loved her, the man who promised to be with her in sickness and in health is right here. Has always been here.'
It had been two years since Shruti had completely changed. The doctors called it amnesia. She remembered everything till 2010, but all the memories after that had disappeared. She remembers her husband, Aman, only as her flatmate who she had been sharing an apartment with for a year now. All her memories with him had been erased. But there was still someone in her mind who didn't have a name. Someone she loved, someone who loved her back, someone she longed to meet every week, someone who was just a figment of her imagination. He didn't exist but she still loved him. Aman didn't tell her anything though. He played along and hoped she'll come back one day. He waited, every day, every week, every month, every year. Nothing changed. But he still waited. After all, this is what they called love, right?

New Semester.

'Shit. I'm late. I'm SO late. The new professor's going to kill me'. It was the first day of our new semester and I was already ten minutes late for class. New semester, new lectures, new professor but same old boring routine.
But today was different. For starters, my alarm clock decided to ditch me. I woke up at 9:45 a.m. My class was at 10:00 a.m. I got ready as fast I could and I ran out. My college was just ten minutes away from where I stayed but that didn't really help much considering I was already late. Just as I walked outside my PG and crossed the road, I remembered that I forgot to buy the new book I needed for the first lecture. Doing post graduation and not carrying your books to class is something our teachers are not really fond of. Also, I heard that the new professor, who had just joined this semester, was pretty strict. Thankfully, there was a book store just on the way to college. And even better, it was already open. I decided that going very late to class with the book was much better than going late to class than without the book. So, I went and bought the book. Just as I was leaving the shop, I saw a chemist next door. And then I got an idea. I absolutely hated getting a scolding from teachers. Whatever the reason may be, I hated it. So, I went to the chemist and decided to buy a crepe bandage and tie it around my ankle. I decided on a perfect excuse that I would tell the professor as an excuse for being late. Just as I entered the chemist and picked up the bandage, I saw that there was a long queue at the payment counter. I waited for five minutes and realized that the line hadn't moved even an inch. I asked the lady standing in front of me what was happening. Apparently, there was some idiot who was arguing with the shopkeeper about some bill. WHY NOW? I got furious and went ahead and started shouting at the man. 'You do realize that there are people waiting here who have better things to do in life to wait for you to solve your bloody issues?' The man just stared at me blankly. And then his expression changed. Clearly, I didn't really improve his mood. 'Madam, I'm a common consumer just as you are who also has much better things to do. But the only thing I'm doing right now is demanding my right which I really don't understand WHY is becoming such a big deal here. Now, if you could please wait, that'll be really helpful'. I was just about to scream again when I got a call from my friend. She told me that our class had been postponed to 11:00 a.m. I swear, I had never been happier. I left the box of crepe bandage at the counter, gave the idiotic man a very angry look and walked out. But I was really happy so I didn't really care about anything else then. I walked to college and went to class. I sat at the back because teachers didn't really care about the back benchers and I didn't really care about the class. I was playing around with my bag, trying to find a pen, when our new professor walked in. Everybody sat up to greet him and sat down just as quickly but I was typo busy with my bag. Just as I looked up, I got the biggest shock ever. It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck upon me. I was staring at the same man who I had just had an argument with barely half an hour ago. The same man I had shouted at so badly that even the aunties in the chemist looked at me with disgust. Yes, the idiotic man from the chemist was my new professor.
I couldn't have asked for a better start to the new semester. 

Wait

She didn't remember anything. Everything had gone, everything was lost. She looked at me, teary eyed, trying to find someone she knew in my face. I stared back at her, hoping that there would be something about my face, something about me that she would remember. But, nothing.
My sister, who I loved more than anyone else in the world, the only person who understood me, didn't know me any longer. I was nothing but a stranger to her.
It happened about a month ago. It was a normal day. Weekday. We woke up early, did our chores, sat in front of our parents' photos as we went on blabbering about our lives and had a cup of tea. Then as the clock struck 8, we locked up the house and we left for our work.
It was around 2:30 in the afternoon when I got the call. I rushed to the hospital where she was admitted. They said that she was crossing the road while going for her lunch break when a black sedan came out of nowhere and knocked her down.
She had been in the I.C.U. for three weeks, unconscious. They did all sorts of procedures on her, ran all sorts of tests till they finally declared her 'healthy'. And then she finally woke up. Tears crawled down my face as I looked at her and smiled. I didn't go close to her because I was scared I might harm her. I stood five feet away from her bed and just smiled and stared. It took me ten minutes to finally realize that she didn't react the way she should have. She stared at me too, yes she did, but blankly. I called out to her but the only reaction she gave was a little awkward smile. And then she started crying. The doctors were a little surprised at first but then they checked her. They told me she had lost her memory. She remembered nothing. It took me a while to understand what was happening. But then, I smiled. I smiled at her and said nothing.
From that day, I would go to her room everyday, sit with her, give her food, talk about what was happening around the hospital, trued to explain to her what was happening outside in the world, but I said nothing to her about me. About herself. About her world. The doctors said it would only cause her stress and pain. So I didn't say anything. All I could do was wait. Wait for her to come back to me. Wait for her to remember me. Wait for me to become a part of her again. Wait.

Red

So I finally tried my hand at writing short stories. It's nothing great, but it's a start. And considering I have blog, it'll be only fair if I become active now. So from now on, I'm going to try and write as much as I can. Hope you like this though c:

It happened when I was five years old I guess. I was holding my father's hand and walking. My mother and sister were walking behind us. They always walked like 10 miles behind my father and me. 

There was so much life all around, so much colour, so many smiling faces. I remember that day very clearly, surprising, because I was just five. Not an age one particularly remembers. But, I was just so happy. 

The crowd was walking towards the music and we were walking along with the crowd. Everybody sounded so excited. Just in front of me a man picked up his daughter and put her on his shoulders while they walked. I asked my father to do the same. After a lot of convincing and whining, my father finally picked me up and made me sit on his shoulders. The height scared me a little but it was exciting. The view from up there was so beautiful. The colours seemed even brighter. The people even more excited. I started noticing things, noticing people, noticing children. Just then I saw a man, a man covered in black. I remember noticing his eyes, they seemed sad. He was walking really fast and while he was walking he dropped off a bag. I watched him until he kept walking and left from one of the side gates. I wanted to shout to tell the man that he'd forgotten his bag. I looked down and started calling out to my father who was busy looking ahead. Just then I heard a loud noise. My father pulled me down. All the colours disappeared. Pink, green, blue, purple, white, they all turned to red. The laughter turned to loud shrieks. The smiles turned upside down. Everything changed. I turned around to find my mother and sister but all I could see were people running. I shouted, I cried but nothing. My father picked me up again and carried me while he shouted and shrieked. But nothing. No reply. We ran all around. We ran toward the gate. But no familiar face. We waited there for around two hours. Men dressed in brownish uniforms carrying, what looked like guns were all around now. 

Still no familiar face. 

I remember that day very clearly, surprising, because I was just five. I was just so happy. But then, everything changed.

Pictures Pictures Pictures

          A picture is worth a thousand words, right? So this blog post is dedicated only to photos.
Photography (I don't even know whether I should call it that) has always been a passion. So I decided to share my photos on my blog :)

 

Yes, it was a very boring day.

 

 

Say hello to my gorgeous sister.

 

Winters are love.

 

John Mayer obviously.

 

Found a hundred of these beautiful butterflies in front of my house.

 

Yes, I clicked. Please believe me.

 

2012. One of my favourites.

 

Lodhi Gardens.

 

Lodhi Gardens. My sister's the best model ever.

 

Lodhi Gardens, again.

 

Summer, 2014.

 

Taj Mahal, Winter 2012.

 

 

Taj Mahal, Winter 2012.

 

Summer 2013.

 

Sultanpur, 2014.

 

Sultanpur, 2014.

 

Sultanpur, 2014.

 

Summer Mornings.

 

Hello Beautiful.

 

Alwar, 2014.

 

Alwar, 2014.

TYPES OF NEIGHBOURS

So I was watching Superwoman videos and I thought of this -
'Types of Neighbours'
Now I don't have the guts to make a video and I have no intention of copying her, but I really really wanted to share this hehe.

1) THE GOSSIP AUNTY - All neighbourhoods have at least one aunty who goes around spreading rumours from one corner of the neighborhood to the other. Even though you don't know about half the people she's talking about, SHE WILL TELL YOU.

2) THE SOLITARY ONES - These people just hate talking to anybody. You hardly see them because either they're out or they're locked inside their house. They might just be the mafia, who knows man.

3) THE ANNOYING UNCLE - Now he seems very sweet in the beginning. But then he stops you in the middle of the road to crack some PJs, he asks you a million questions and then he gives that creepy annoying smile that makes you want to punch him c:

4) THE BORROWERS - They will come to your house every second day tyo ask you either from sugar, rice, dal, masalas etc. It's like they never have their own stuff and we're their grocery store. PAY US ALREADY.

5) THE FUNJABI FAMILY - We absolutely love these guys. They're so much fun to chill with. But they play the loudest of music, have the loudest of parties till the middle of the night. So it's 1am and I'm trying to sleep, and I suddenly hear 'Yo Yo Honey Singh'. Little girl trying to sleep here guys.

6) THE YOUNGSTERS - These people live on rent, probably on the top floor of some house. Loudest talkers ever. They have crazy parties without any music, but their voice is so annoying. They talk at the top of their voice, drink beer and decide to laugh their asses off at 2 a.m. disturbing the entire neighbourhood c:

7) THE SERIOUS ONES - They're not in seclusion, but they're not very friendly either. They mostly happen to be doctors, dentists, authors etc. They come out for functions, meet everybody, but you can never expect to have any fun conversation with them. The conversation will always switch to politics, economy etc etc. They're still really sweet though.

Okay, these were just some of the common ones I thought every neighbourhood would have. No matter how funny/weird they are, we will always love them because well, it IS a neighbourhood.
I hope I didn't bore you. Byebye.

   

     How many..?

Life is short. Make it large. That's the motto everyone lives by, right? But how 'large' do you actually make it? Do you really LIVE or do you follow the same old monotonous routine followed by millions in this world that has sadly been referred to as a rat race?

My 12th boards have finally ended. I'm sitting at home, bored, with an entire list of things to do. But, what do I choose to do instead? Watch television. Yeah. So, one day, I finally decided to switch off the television and think, introspect and try to figure stuff out. And then this weird question popped up in my head. 'How many times have I lived?' 

We have one life to live but a million things to do. But in that one life, we live a thousand lives. And in these thousand lives we meet wonderful people, have wonderful experiences, laugh, cry, dance, sing, work, party, eat, sleep and blah blah. But in the end, how much of it all really matters? How much do we really remember? I'm going to ask this again, how many times did we REALLY live? How many times did we laugh? How many times did we cry? How many times did we say I Love You? How many times did we say goodbye? How many times did it hurt? How many times did we just pause, and think? How many times did we dream? How many?

She gazed outside the window,

the sun falling on her eyes;

Her eyes full of dreams, full of reason,

but there was an emptiness,  an emptiness that couldn't be defined.

She gave a tiny laugh as she saw two young birds fly past.

The warm winter afternoon filled her heart 

with a little happiness, a little sorrow, a little bit of...everything.

The sun made her feel beautiful, made her feel special.

Staring at it with closed eyes made her feel brave. Then why was it so incomplete?

Why did it all feel so, well....lost?