Bombay Rains

"I don't like you." "who the hell likes you?!" and she walked off. One day. One day i will hack her to tiny little pieces and stand and laugh. and i will be the happiest person alive. That nauseating; suffering idiot will have died and i could then live my life in peace. yes, i hate her. and you probably are right now going: wha-? So i will tell you everything. starting with that floating piece of fluff's name. her name is namrata. we're family friends. now we study together. she detests me. i hate her with a passion i never knew i possessed. but why? one asks us, quite often. why? because that foolface is my best friend. and no one infuriates me more.                    * jackass. jackass. such a jackass! what the hell! I gets the highest mark, he fails. and it is my fault?! oh yes, because i study. and i'm supposedly a "floating piece of fluff". jackass!!!!! who? arjun. family friend and now "best friend". ...

see, the thing about love stories is that there is always a template. boy meets girl girl meets boy they fall in love might have a fight( if you're going for the indian version) one might cheat on the other (if you want to take a cheap shot at love) they work it out because of their all-consuming love for each other. but what if love wasn't so easily defined? so easily found? what if you passed that "one true love" as they call it; lived parallel lives but never met? In college there is a clear status order. wildly popular. mildly popular. not popular. aliya was mildly popular. arjun wasn't. not even a bit. He studied. got proficiency; and was in love with post its. she spoke too fast; had a zillion friends and never knew him. different classes; different lives, destined never to meet. but they did; one fine day. aliya was taking photographs of unknown people being really good at it. arjun, sitting afar was holding a discourse on vain people, tell...

…And they lived happily ever after. She closed the book. Right, because fairytales exist. There is a cute boy waiting somewhere for you to let your hair down so he can climb right up and rescue you. She had tried. Oh god had she. She fell a couple of feet short. But if she sat in her room on the ground floor and let her hair out, it nicely sweeps the floor. She had long hair; that’s where the whole obsession started I think. The reading of fairytales. Watching the Disney movies. Collecting the dolls and dreaming. She could sit and dream all day long. But everyone grows up someday right? Her mother said that.   All.The.Time. It was like a tape that had got jammed in the player. Everyone has to grow up. It’s high time you did too. She’d heard that so much she wanted to give up. On the fairytales. And the dreaming. And the waiting. But why should she. Once in a while, you would think that maybe… your parents are right. Thankfully that time hasn’t arrived yet. Her mother was not right...

He walked into a room while I kept thinking oww.. The lights dimmed and my head went-WOW That face and those abs, I was in girl heaven. And then the fog cleared The lights came on and I noticed the specifics The long kurta, the chiseled bod The manicured hands, the diamond rocks. He looked to his left and his face lit up He was clearly in love and and I thought- fuck, Until the tears cleared and I looked further The guy was hot but his boyfriend was better. I was in the temple, god, I was praying to you You answered them alright just not the right ones. There’s ugly, there’s stupid, there’s gorgeously hot There’s gay, there’s straight but for me there’s naught Next time, listen better, pay attention dear god I asked for a hot guy, not one that’s not Interested in girls. Boys will be boys, but when will you learn?