Hello everyone, Thank you so much for the love. This is the proper episodic starting of my series. Your enthusiasm is what drove my hand over the keyboard keys. Lots of love…Lets start…
The owner of a house with no leak in the roof .My life had changed in a moment. Too poetic. It had,infact , changed in a couple of months . My beliefs, my outlook towards the world had all changed. I never believed in fate. I never ever, believed in god. My only reason for celebrating festivals were that I got to make something for Sahil.He devoured them all ..With a satisfied smile on his face. When I had no money to either make or buy them, we would get enough from the neighbours. That was our idea of a festival. Me, the Beeghi Billi went in, changed, smilingly went to Katrina Kaif ..Arre…My modular kitchen. Perfect,spick and span. I took out a dusty old book which was threatening to get ruined any moment. Today,of all days deserved a special dish from my special book for my special brother. The only human that made me feel special. ‘Shivaay is in the same league as Sahil na?’ whispered the emotional part of my mind.The other part of my mind replied back, rewinding the video tape of the last two months. And suddenly I felt emotional,choked and happy at the same time.
I never believed in love. My go to word was Deal. Deal in .Deal out. Day in. Day out. She too didn’t believe in it. She believed in my version of it. Her belief was pure relief to me.My business is still soaring. How much ever bade papa feels sore about it ,my stock prices in the market remain high and I still feature in cover pages of magazines.Truth be told,I had suffered a huge loss. I had lost my invaluable ,immovable asset to my fault called suspicion. My eyes shall remember you till the day I die,For it is due to you that they still do cry. Fhat the wuck?Did I just do poetry? Well, not surprised at myself. Looking at the moon, listening to sad songs, remembering our every moment, I had done every damn clichéd thing all people do. I was a sick , lovesick puppy. Only ,I realised it too late.
‘Khushi ya ghum- pia ke saath har pal haseen,
Jab hoga ishq par yaqeen.
Ishq par hoga tab yaqeen,
Ishq ho jaane ke baad’ Wah!Wah!Wah!Wah!
Omkara: Wow..I dedicate this to billuji who is now , in the thoughts of his beloved,who he thinks of,who he loves,with every fibre of his being,the one to which his adoration,his admiration,his longing, his pure selfless love,to his Mallika-E-Dil,known to a very few.
Rudra : Hearing all this, I’m sure I’m going to get a flu.
Shivaay: Common Om.I don’t wanna talk about her.
Omkara: Of course. That’s why you keep on using ‘Phail gaya Raitha’ .Eating Aloo puri at restaurants during meetings.And making gajar ka halwa 3 days a week.Taking one bowl separately,eating it in the darkness,emotional and crying at times.Of course.You know what,you have lost your originality Shivaay.You have become Shivaay from “The Shivaay”
Rudra: Bhaiya’s name was “The Shivaay Singh Oberoi “?Why did no Oberoi tell me this?
Shikara: Shut up Rudra.
Shivaay: Originality?Huh? FYI.The last line in your poem is a repeated one. You also said it when Annika and I were discussing our ideas of love….(Stutters..Remembering what he babbled)
OmRu(In two different ways) Annika and I were discussing our ideas of love……
Oh!Our ideas of love……….
Shivaay: Why do you both always crane your necks to find some connection with what I say to Annika?
Rudra: Because there’s always one.(Gives a Hi-fi to Om)
Omkara: As if you are neck-less??
Rudra: Oh! Neck-less se yaad aaya…Soumya should never wear a necklace.
Shivkaara(Together): (with doubt) Why??
Rudra: Because she has a small neck..What’s the use of neck-less people wearing a necklace?Logic huh??Somebody give a Oscar to this Genius here…
Two people face palming and the sound of ‘Duffer” could be heard.
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