Recently I went to a wedding, an Indian wedding. The groom came on a white mare with a Baraat. He was dressed in a dazzling Achkan; and wore a Pagdi, having a brooch in the middle. The bride was dressed in red, with shimmers and stars attached to the length. Their families wore glitters; the celebrations were huge. Weddings are special, they bond families together. They shower love, let us trust and spread utmost happiness.
So, the bride and the groom entered the open lawn during the Kanya Aagaman; tears rolled down the cheeks of bride’s mother; as she saw the bride and the groom coming with held hands
The starry night blinked with light, beats on the dance floor blurring my eyes. I drank in excess, thus the state of sublime. I was jumping and laughing, as if it was the last night of my life. I saw him, coming towards me and I held my breath. Wondering would he lean in? He held my hand and we sat down somewhere in the midst of nowhere, but I liked it with him. We did not move, just stayed there; hand in hand.
You are sleeping on the other side of the bed, then you turn towards her, you see her face in the moonlight and think how beautiful she is. You want to lean in and kiss her, but you resist. You want to hold her hand, but you hold yourself back. Why are you afraid? Are you afraid of her reaction? Are you afraid of the what ifs? What if she refuse, what if she says no? You are not sure of what would happen. So you don’t try. But you know, trying is not bad. It can make you gain confidence in your actions, it can make you feel loved, cared.
There were they, two individuals, poles apart, yet building a great friendship on same saved foundation.
Disclaimer: This post is purely fictional but is inspired by true friendship of real people in real life.
It was the third night of the horrendous week of what we called exams, but in reality they were the culminating stressors, sucking every ounce of blood from their weak bodies. Walking through the corridor, there Sivan was, forming a strategy in his mind, planning how he would divide the hours left in the night to complete his units. By then he attempted physics and chemistry but the next day he had to face his worst nightmare: Mathematics. Sivan never liked numbers, even in college he tried his best to get through the math class, but always failed to understand the quadratic equations and Eigen values. He was in that thought process when he saw a guy from his class, holding his mathematics book along with him. “Where are you going?“, Sivan asked him. It was past midnight and the library was closed, then where was he going, Sivan thought. “Roy is telling the important topics for tomorrow’s exam“, the guy went downstairs in a hurry. “Important Topics?” “Where?”, Sivan shouted from the corridor, “102”, the diminishing voice replied.
You are alone in a crowded place, you see your friends in a corner drinking cheap beer and laughing, you want to go there, but you don’t want to go there. You are tired of their shabby comments on your looks, tired of their opinion of what you seem to do in life. It feels like they are crossing the boundaries, taking control of things that belong to your persona. “Hey Samara, over here“, you are too late, they call you over to share their drinks. Alas! how do you tell, you don’t like the taste of that cheap beer, and you hate their mean comments.