ZORDAR HALWA !

It was his fifth cup of coffee since he woke up. Actually he could not even sleep properly, tossing and turning on the bed, the whole night. This turmoil, this unrest in Pappu’s mind and body is not just because of today being the Valentine’s Day but he has been so ever since Pinky broke-up with him.

For the past couple of years, he had done things just for the sake of doing them. And this worsened on the days when he used to celebrate his love for her with her. The day they met, the day they accepted each other, her birthday and the bewitching Valentine’s week. He kept on with his days thinking where she might be? What she must be doing? Does she still think about him? Will there be a day when he will meet her again? , and survived through the night with the hope that one day he will know the answer to these questions. But today he felt quaintly the worst.

As he was continuing through his sad and detached afternoon, his phone rang. It was from an unknown number. His heart skipped a beat with joy thinking that it might be Pinky and the very next second he got scared, what if it really is her. He did not pick-up the call.

His phone rang again, but this time it was his friend Lappu. Given Pappu’s condition, Lappu was worried and wanted Pappu to get out of the house and spend some time with friends so that he might feel better. After convincing for a good half an hour Pappu gave in and agreed to go with Lappu and others for a night out.

Thanks to Lappu, Pappu took a bath and shaved which he had not done the whole week.It had been a long time since Pappu has looked like Pappu. Lappu came and they both left to meet others on his motorcycle. Pappu was sitting silently behind,lost in the thoughts of Pinky and Lappu noticed it. He saw a lavish marriage hall in a distance that seemed to be hosting a grand wedding.He asked Pappu ,”Oye, samne dekh lagta hai kisika lamba kat raha hai. Bhukh bhi badi lag rahi hai. Crash karega?” During college days Pappu was an expert at crashing weddings and Lappu knew this will definitely cheer him up. Pappu agreed and they both went inside the hall.

They did not look right or left and straight away went for the buffet. After having generous servings of each and every dish that was there on their plate, both started eating. They had their stomach full and Lappu asked Pappu about how the food was.”Badi muddaton ke baad aisa Gajar ka Halwa khaya hai.”,he replied with content. Pappu thought they should leave now but Lappu stopped and told him that they will leave only after they have seen the bride. It was their rule when they crashed weddings that once they have seen the bride and have eaten the dessert then only a wedding would be considered successfully crashed. Pappu wanted to leave but how could he break the rule which he himself had made.

After sheepishly sneaking from one part of the hall to another, they found the place where the bride was. Due to excitement of seeing the bride Lappu started to dance while humming the song ‘Aaj mere yaar ki shaadi hai! ’. Pappu could not see the face clearly so he moved a bit closer. Finally he could see the bride’s face. The bride was Pinky!

Pappu could not believe his eyes, his face turned pale and his body started shaking. He wanted to shout and cry but just stood there. Moments passed and he gained control of his body but was still in an emotional trance. Infuriated he dragged Lappu by his shirt’s collar towards him and yelled ,”Abey Lappu sale,ye tere YAAR ki nahi mere PYAAR ki shaadi hai !” Lappu could not understand what was happening and with an honest oblivious smile he replied ,”Toh kya hua? HALWA to zordar tha na!”

Pappu realized how simple the answers to the questions he was asking for so long were.There was silence for a while, Lappu and Pappu looked at each other and burst out laughing so hard that it became everyone’s main concern whether they were from the bride’s side or the groom’s.

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The cost of Emulation!

Butt-hurt ! 😛

The "Not So Single, Happily Together" Blog!:)

Summer vacations are always the most awaited vacation of all time as there is a good 30-45 long day vacation and even after tons of useless holiday homework,you can always find time to eat your parents’ head to the extent that would take you out on a vacation.

As the children of an army officer,a lot of effort does not have to be put in that regard since for quite a significant time of our lives,our fathers are away at some borders saving the nation.So vacations were always a perfect time to meet them and spend some time.

This is a story when my father was  posted in Sikkim.One of the most beautiful places i have seen all my life.It is literally like a road separating heaven and hell as you travel with the fear of huge bare rocks falling on you amidst the valley that never fails to mesmerise…

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The First Instrument

Long back in a distant time when I was in primary school, we kids were only allowed to write with pencils. We would see our teachers and parents use Pens to write, we could only dream that one day when we will be older we can use pens and be more like them, the adults. So when I reached fifth standard, at the start of the school session it was announced that the students from fifth standard onwards will use pens to write. After hearing this rule we felt like James Bond as if we’ve got the infamous “License to kill”.

Everybody was excited and rapturous but among this exhilaration there was a feeling of concern as the freedom and security that we had of using an eraser would be gone, writing with pen was like walking on fire, one mistake and you’ll have to either over-write above it or make a cut all over. It was a big deal keeping your notebooks neat and clean. Now we truly understood what it meant when Peter Parker (Spider man)’s uncle Ben said,” With great power comes great responsibility.”

All the kids got busy discussing and making plans about what kind of pen and of which brands they would buy, what colored ink they are going to use and how it would feel to write with the forbidden red ink with which teachers dwelled in to the realm of miserable discourse. The main altercation was whether you will become a Gel pen user or a Ball (dot) pen user. Finally the kids who did not give a rat’s tail to how their hand-writing looks also known as the hippies of the class started using ball pens and the uber-citizens of the class who would consider any other thing that they don’t use as untouchable, used gel pens.

Everything was fine until one day my friend brings a special something to the school. He entered the classroom, came and sat beside me. Before I could ask what is up with him, he opened his bag and handed a maroon colored pen to me. It was a Fountain pen (Ink pen)! Before this I had only heard about these or had only seen them on television. Now one was in my hand. It was the most interesting and elegant thing I had ever seen. Every line, cut or curve on that pen spoke to me as if we were bound together in a cosmic sense. My friend asked me to go ahead and try writing with it, afraid that I might break it, I carefully wrote my name on the back of my notebook. The magic struck and I was spell bound!

As a result I wanted one for myself, own this feeling that I just had, and make it mine. Seeing my enthusiasm my friend promised to get me the same pen the next day, till then he allowed me to borrow his. Did my classwork, my homework and when I had nothing to write, went and started making signatures at the back of a notebook with it. As promised my friend gave me a brand new fountain pen and I returned his the next day. But something was not right! The pen looked the same in all its respects but when I started writing with it something was amiss. The connection that I had, it was not there! I started figuring out things that might be different, trying everything that could help make the same connection that I had with my friend’s with this new pen.

With each moment that passed and my efforts failing, the darkness dawned upon me. The sheer attraction of that mysterious connection with my friend’s pen made me panic. During the recess when my friend was away, I switched the pens. I felt a sudden rush through my head and everything went silent for a while. I had got what I wanted. There was a strange satisfaction in the crime that was committed.

Being content, I went to bed but couldn’t sleep and somehow inside my head the two Paresh Rawals from Andaz Apna Apna started arguing and convincing me who the real Teja is? The honest Paresh Rawal won and I understood what I had to do but still no sleep. I was so guilt ridden till the morning that any sound that would come out of my mouth, turned into a snivel half way through. After reaching school, I searched for my friend frantically thinking of ways how I would tell him that I had betrayed him and our friendship by doing this heinous deed. I found him sitting at our desk and told him everything. Anticipating what he might say or do, I was going bonkers. I wasn’t this scared even when the teachers used to tell marks and show test papers. He just looked at me and said,” Let us play a match of Pen Fight and whichever pen wins, I’ll take that one.”

Just like that,this fountain pen became my first instrument. But what did this instrument do?

Go figure!