So, this is RJ Gaurav and I am back with my show "Ishq wla Love". Today it's gonna be little different as I'm gonna share with you guys my love story unlike the other episodes. ** Bg Music** ( tada da da Rj Gaurav, Ishq wla love)
Before we could cross the road, the signal turned red, so we had to stop there. The city lights were dim and beyond any parametric equations and conic sections, how much complexities crept in, I couldn't fathom.
- Khushi? The smoke of the cigar had filled up the room and I noticed her long hair was cut short. She turned round and looked at me under the tangles of her black hair, barely touching her shoulders. "Go away!" - Khushi what's wrong? " I say leave, go away, she shouted and threw the cigar on the floor." - Khushi I didn't mean to say that, trust me! *Advertisement music*
So guys yes, Khushi was a real "khushi" in my life. Her attire and her behaviour was perhaps a stroke of luck that clicked well in her and she was not much fair, yet her beauty was pretty alluring. The lips above her crested chin never fake her a smile. So, I met her at college.
4th Sep, 2002
-Khushi, ah it smells so good, said I twirling her curls. She blushed and said - "Vanilla fields, Saloni gifted me last year." - Ugh no, I'm asking about the smell coming from your lunch box. Soon she became shy and tried making up with - " Oh haa, aam kheer! ammi ne banaya" - accha? mujhe do, thoda mai bhi taste krke dekhu? " Nhi ye to mai bilkul nhi share krne wli! Waise kru bhi to kya doge? " It was recess time and Khushi was so much into me that she didn't even notice the gloomy weather outside. The clouds were heavy with every bit of their dark tones, becoming darker in every second promised a heavy downpour.
- Baarish! chlega na? And I turned her neck towards the window.
It was late October month , both of us were having a nice talk until a sudden topic triggered us both.
"Gaurav?" You love me and you just can't confess this before your friends! (she said in a rude voice ) - See I want to keep these things private. There's a privacy in my life. Khushi now raised her voice too high - " There's a difference, a hell lot difference between privacy and being private, keeping matters private always. I lost my mind seeing my girl doubting on me. I answered her back with much disgust and exasperation - If you can't accept these things , you can straight away leave. There it was 5th October, 2002 our relation came to an end. And few months back when I paid a visit to her I saw her smoking a cigar, lying naked on the sofa and a guy in the front passionately making a portrait of her.
" Just go away Gaurav! " Khushi yelled at me, she couldn't see my tears. My hands shook . This is my girl who said years back that she can't live without me . Yes, she is just like a dead butterfly now,still that much pretty ,she's trying to live somehow ,trying to stay happy in her own way.
Khushi if you are here on my radio station listen to me I want to say "aaj meri ammi ne bhi mere lunch box mein aam kheer pack krke diya hai , sirf baarish ki kaami hai, tumhare sahar mein aaj baarish aaye to mujhe bhej dena. "
Another day and I wake up to the pitter - patter sound of rain. The bed bugs are still resting, for the folds, I made last night on my bedsheet are still prominent . Behind the curtains, I fear the sun is playing hide and seek, just to be a perfectionist in trapping my imperfections. And no where but here today the cuckoo is mocking at me seeing the pastels of grey clouds, knowing not where has it come from.
Those pink barbies still crave for blues( Society mocked
at those boys who loved pink)
(In this piece, Blue is referred to as a boy , and the
poems in between the para are written by me)
My every date went awesome without that colour.I
believed that the sky has been cursed bereft of any pink
shades,crying over her own fate, what would you think is
just a flood.
I've been nurtured saying: " "
But both pink and hot wheels are just two nouns right?
despite of any caste, creed and Sexual discrimination!
Blue loved wearing pink hair pins and the polaroid on the
walls of his room reflected perfect oxymorons. The
neighbouring barbie dolls peeped through the glass
windows into his room got jealous seeing Blue playing
with those pink dolls ,they also wanted Blue to play with
Those wild spider mums wait eagerly to get
circumscribed round his head but the roses wilt seeing Blue
in fear of mocking society .Even the scattered petals of
asters in the Graffiti pots once promised Blue to answer
to his every questions now if Blue asks them "why
others laugh at me when I put lipstick ?" They soon
turned into a post-apocalyptic dystopia .
In the day break elysian consciences kiss him leaving
back a puddle of ataraxia on his cheeks.
And the flag of our socially Darwinistic world soares high
in his midnight querencia when he secretly paints his lips
Society mocked at Blue,when he bravely said ,he is in
love with another Blue.
Society made him weaker than ever, and now when his
heart asks him about his feelings Blue says ~
Dear #wanderers of #Universe Have a glance and drop a #star or #scar in accordance with your feelings to the verse. Your suggestions are heartiest welcome. ---------------------------------------------------------- ** To all those stars you hide within 'O' Staretched soul, smile and shine Don't hesitate to twinkle before tumbling into the void Claim your precious presence that none can avoid.
Don't burry your lucid lustre Devour darkness with ardent valour In the dark night of despair and fear The bright stars of love and hope shimmer, truly forever.
Which one do you prefer? A shabby scar or a shimmery star? Tattered existence or an exquisite one? **
* GLOSSARY : Star etched - Decorated with stars, Tumble - Fall down, Void - Blank space, Burry - Cover, Lucid - Bright, Lustre - Glow or Glaze, Devour - Destroy or Consume, Ardent - Passionate,Valour - Courage, Despair - Hopelessness, Shimmer - Shine, Shabby and Tattered - Miserable or Poor, Exquisite - Beautiful *
I feed on cynicism and you're a vile of powdered melancholy .
I keep a handful of grief in my breast pocket to feed my demons evey time i encounter you because you , my friend , are a product of reality and reality , burns me . We look across the table at each other amidst the chaos , our coffee slowly turning into tar and i see before my eyes as you fight and lose a battle in your head .
I am no Dante but I've had a taste of Inferno on my tongue and you smell exactly like the aftertaste it left . Tell me friend do you ever think Juliet was a cruel lover or you just pity her , because I find myself on the stage of Globe , waiting for the fire to swallow me . We have turned into different phantoms , but i witness life trickling out of me in your presence , you look like you just got promised a massacre .