Rowdy Rathore

I wasn't very impressed  the first time. Honestly that sort of look simply doesn't cut out for me. I am more into the sweet sensitive type, the rugged bohemian look makes me run off in the opposite direction. And then I read. I saw. And I read again. And then I went back and re-read everything about you and around you. And the things you wrote. Of love, lust, violence. Longing and despair. And then I met you online. Saw what an amazing powerhouse of wit, talent and irreverent bluntness you were. And the more I saw, the more I fell in love with you. Cheap words, I know. But a sentimental melancholic like me has little choice. And no matter how much I decide never to fall in love again, I keep on flying blindly to sparks like you.

A rare beauty you are with rarer intelligence. Somebody who can keep up with me. Even shut me up. Now when did such a man evolve? Apparently, before I was born.

We will know more of each other. Hopefully, when you aren't criticizing the Dumb Dumb Airport, we'll meet over tea. No CCD please. I hate that stuff. 

Till then, here's to 'liking' each other.

 

Much Ado..

He's worn black today.

"Black makes him look hot."

"Compliment him".

"No, we fought. How dare he?"


"He's so hot".

"Tell him, tell him".

"His voice is lovely, isn't it? And when he wears his sunglasses and trots off strutting his stuff...."

"Tell him, tell him".

He comes, takes one look at her, and proceeds to his friends who are sitting next to her.

"Look at his physique."

"That body...."

"Tell him..."

"Tell him what?" She frustratingly asks.

"Tell him he's hot."

She proceeds towards him. He stares at her with his piercing eyes.

"You are hot tempered", she loudly opines.

"I'm sorry, what?" He comes close to her.

"Ye...ess.. you fight all the time!" She mumbles...a little loudly.

"Well you know what", he stammers, "that's my style". And walks off like the hero of a Tamil film. Background scores play inside his head but she can hear them. 

"Idiot.."

"Yes, he's such a..."

"Not him, you!"

"What? What did I do?"

"We are off. Hasta luego."

"Wait.. don't go. What if I have to talk to him again?"

But they did not reply. The voices in her head retreated. She would too if she could.

The Abyss

The hole was big and black. Muddy, rough around the edges. Gushing rain broke it down deeper into an abyss. Silent and unfeeling, it was invisible to innocent eyes. And empty.

Like a black hole, it gaped and grabbed every inch of joy, every ray of hope that came near it. A soul sucking demon, it attracted only death. In time, it grew bigger and bigger but still nobody saw it. But there it was, the after-effects.

She withered like a perished petal, faded as the dying rays of a dusky sun. Everyone wondered.

The hole, after all, was in her soul.