Archive for the ‘Love’ Category


Welcome to DDLJ-land. It may sound a little, just a little, like La-la-land. (Yes, the la-la-land that Katrina lip syncs to in that awfully disturbing title song of Tees Maar Khan.) But this one is different. This one’s marginally more sane. Largely because yours truly has been living here since 1995. 🙂

Here, you *have* to write lovey dovey poems in Hindi talking about Andekhe Anjaane guys.

Here, you believe that people must not name their kids Raj unless they are ‘Raj material’.

Here, you are supposed to hallucinate and show schizophrenic symptoms when you are in love.

Here, your hero should always take the mushkil raasta just because it is sahi and because his died-before-i-remember mom told him so.

Here, your dad is the villain in your life. Wait, lets strike that one off the list.

Here you are reminded at random times about how you should be a Hindustani and that your hero is infact a dhabba on a Hindustani. Oh and then, you have to wait for that moment when the hero makes a poor pigeon’s bullet wound septics by putting our desh ki powerful and magical mitti on the wound and hence prove his desi quotient.

Here, any act of supposed pervertedness on the part of your hero is to excused in the name of well, raj-ness.

However insane and lame this world is, I like it here. Nothing here is real. But I love looking for DDLJ-land in the not-that-smart  ‘real’ world. And to people who think DDLJ is little too melodramatic and aisa-real-life-me-thode-hi-hota-hai, let love, or whatever they call it these days, happen to you. I can count on you acting weirder, stupider and funnier than Raj and Simran ever did.

Indu. 🙂


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Flowers For Him

This wasnt written to be posted on the blog. But then I got bored and posted it here. 😐

She glanced at her watch. It was 2 minutes to six. As she wrapped up her work for the day and walked to the station, her mind carelessly slipped away into the memories of that day – the day he had gifted her the watch and the ring that still shone on her left hand. The starlit night, the candles, the dinner at Taj, the wine and most of all, the smile of satisfaction of his face – everything came back in front of her hollow, hazel eyes.

The announcement of the 6 o’clock fast local to Churchgate snapped her back from the past. Hurriedly she got on to the train, took her usual seat by the window and gave a faint smile to the familiar faces she had been seeing everyday in the last one year.

Today, was a special day and she wanted him to know that. She had been planning for this day for the past month. Plans and ideas were thought of and thrown out everyday. And with some help from her friends, she finally decided on how she wanted to celebrate the day.

She gazed out of the window, taking in the post monsoon cool breeze of the city and playing out the evening in her mind over and over again. All the while, she had a silent wish in her mind. She never said it aloud, lest it fails to come true.  In half an hour she had reached her station. She got down and started walking out to his place.

On the footpath, she saw a lady selling flowers. Remembering his love for yellow carnations, she instinctively went to her and bought a bouquet of his favourite flowers. ‘This would be a nice touch’, she thought. With the flowers in her arms, she continued her walk.

And then she reached the hospital. Her heart best faster as the elevator came closer to the 11th floor. All arrangements had been made. She got the same music and the same wine. She made sure that the menu was the same as it was a year back. All she wanted now, was a miracle. A miracle to bring her life back to what it was meant to be.

With all her surprises in place, she waited with bated breath on the terrace of the hospital as the attendant brought him to her on the wheelchair.

Today was 26th November 2009, exactly a year after he had proposed to her in front of the Gateway of India; exactly a year after he went into paralysis after a bullet injury on his spinal cord.



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Yes, I have decided take my Agony Aunt services to a higher level. From advising random people I meet to counseling friends-of-friends-of-friends on IM, I have decided to give free advices here, on my blog.

So, why am I talking about break ups? Well, this post was meant for 14th Feb. With all the love in the air, non romantics like me were beginning to feel a little left out. But due to unavoidable circumstances (read laziness), it kept getting delayed. Now, I have another reason to do this post – a dear friend who was lucky to fall in love, but a tad unlucky to fall in love with the wrong guy. So here I go.

As far as break ups go, I am rather experienced. Don’t ask about the number. I am not going to tell. (This goes to all my near and not so dear friends) I have come to realize that I am rather good at dealing with them. So here are my ‘pearls of wisdom’.

First, no love is greater than your love for your own self. Yes, you should always want to be happy. Being sad is totally out. Being emo, writing poems about slashing your wrist and lost love is not ‘hip’, not if you want to be happy.

Second, when Shah Rukh said ‘Pyaar sirf ek baar hi hota hai’, he didnt mean it. He said it because he wouldnt be paid if he didnt. Actually, Rahul in KKHH himself fell in love twice and even got married twice. Dont ever think that ‘I’ll never be able to love anybody again’. You have to keep falling in love and enjoy doing that. Now, dont misinterpret this is as supporting the idea of a play-girl(??) or modern female version of Casanova.

Third, you should that your happiness means a lot to a lot of people – your parents, your best friends. They’ll be the ones who’ll be suffering the most seeing you so upset. Ask yourself if their love means anything to you at all and if you want to ignore their unconditional love and concern for an idiot like the person you have shedding tears over. If you think yes for the first question, you know what you should do now. And if you think no, there is something fundamentally with the wiring in your mind and heart. Keep asking yourself till you finally say yes.

Last, always remember this

Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent.  ~Eleanor Roosevelt

This line has been used so many times at random places that you are probably bored of it. I was. But this is one of the most important things you should always remember – break up or no break up.

Enough of theoretical, motivational self help crap. Now for the real maal. So what should you actually do:

  1. Don’t beg: Never ever do that. How much ever you may love him. If he ever loved you, you wouldn’t need to beg to him. And you certainly don’t want to be with a guy who doesn’t love you unless you are Rakhi Sawant.
  2. A friend in need is a friend in need: Go out with your girl friends. Get drunk if you can. Have a blast. A little good time might make you feel better. You could even bump into a much more handsome guy. Watch PS I Love you to get the point.
  3. Inspire the Geet in you: No, don’t start singing. Remember Geet from Jab We Met? Burn his photo, flush it down to toilet and if he has been mean, abuse him. Feels much better.
  4. Make him feel sorry: The best way to do this is not to go inside a shell and try stupid things. Be normal. It makes the guy feel even more sorry. This is 1 thing I can vouch for by personal experience.
  5. Don’t give in: If he was just ‘using’ you, its all the more important that you show him how happy how are. Be happy and be vocal about it. Let him know that you are happy without him. Show him that you dont need him. That sort of negates what he had been trying to do

Basically, be happy no matter what. If you are a die-hard romantic, remember that true love will never leave you and go around looking for your true love. And if you are not, carry on life as usual and write a post about dealing with break ups.


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Wearing My Heart on My SleevesMy first random scribble which manged to get copied to my blog from the last page of my chemistry notebook. 🙂


Zindagi bhar kiya ye intezaar,

Ki ho jaye hume bhi kabhi kisi se pyaar.

Par dil ki thi kuch aisi kahaani,

Intezaar me hi kat gayi saari zindagani.

Jise bhi maan baitha dil apna yaar,

Kisi aur ko dil de aata tha vo gaddar. 😛

Zindagi bhar kiya ye intezaar,

Ki ho jaye hume bhi kabhi kisi se pyaar.

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This post is a promise I made to someone. I pray that may your love never have to pass any test of race, religion or caste. May the purity of your love overcome all your differences. May you always remain together.

 This wasn’t the life she had wished for. When she stumbled upon some old letters and poems, hidden in an obsolete corner of the cupboard, old dreams, wishes aspirations began filling up the void in her heart.

 The only daughter of an aristocratic Muslim family in Lucknow, she had wished for more freedom in her teenage days. But with time, her aspirations for freedom gathered dust and she thought she was really lucky that she was allowed to continue her studies.

She met him in college. Chance encounters turned into deliberate meetings and a random acquaintance turned into a very special relationship. He took her away from her shackled world to a world where it was just the two of them and their dreams together. For the first time in her life, she set her soul free. She believed nothing could ever take him away from her.

 It was only when her father thought it was about time that she got married that she realized that his religion would never allow them to be one. All of a sudden she saw her world of dreams crashing down around her. But her faith in their love gave her the hope that her Allah and his Ram would definitely understand their love and that their destiny will fight all odds.

 With this hope in her heart, she told her parents everything. Her father demanded to meet him in private. She was overjoyed as she thought her love had triumphed. Little did she know that the private meeting wasn’t that private. He was bashed up by her father’s goons and threatened that if he ever tried to come back, he would never see his family alive.

 That was the end of her fairytale. All she could do was weep with the pieces of the beautiful future she had dreamt of which lay shattered in her hands. She never knew what happened to him – If he was alive or dead, if he still thought of her or had quietly resigned to his fate like she had . . .

 “Ammi, bhook lagi hai.” Her daughter’s call from the hall brought her back. She wiped the tear in the corner of her eye, kept the letters back in the obsolete corner and went back to the life she had never wished for.

 The reason why I am writing this is to tell people that divisions of religion, race, tribe, caste, color are divisions which only our brains can recognize. Our hearts are yet to come to terms with these divisions. So let’s not tie down love with these shackles. 

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