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Gosh! Can anyone be as bored as me!? 🥱 So, rather than writing a complete OS, I decided to write some short scenes of them. They have been jumping around in my head like little bunnies for a couple of days but the background of each one keeps on changing a lot. I felt like if I were to write an OS on them, I would break my fingers. They get really numb in winter times...so hard to type 😭 Yeah! So I have done similar kind of writing style before but those were only one sentence fictions and they were based on some prompts. But that was way back in 2009 I think...doubt if I still have that touch in me (total Uday wala "touch" 😍) This is just the slightly extended version of that style. Bear with me, I don't have much expectations from the result of these anyways 😆 They jump from genre to genre...anyways! Here goes! Also, I might turn this thread into my permanent thread for OSs 🤔 Doubt it though...okay! enough with the rambling!!!
Peace. That was the only thing she craved more than anything. Some peace and some time alone for herself. All this going from one place to another, taking lessons to be a proper princess, working on having better relationship with her family; it was really tiring. Her usually bursting energy sometimes refused to help her get along with the business. At those times, she would sneak away from the watchful eyes of the elders and steal some moments from the quiet.
"Hey Princess..."
And at those times, his voice would break the invisible barriers of quiet and she would look back to see him leaning against the wall, his signature smirk plastered on his lips and his eyes glittering with mischief.
Then, she would sigh. And she'd shout at him, blame him, curse him; she'd rip off that princess skin off from herself and be the wild cat that she used to be. And he'd smile and take in everything without saying anything in return.
Because it was the she that he was so interested in and it was the he that she got so annoyed at. And just like that, they were perfect in the most imperfect way.
2.
"Hello Prin-"
"Where are you?! Aap jaante hain hum kitni dair se wait kar rahe hain apka?!"
"Oho! Princess, aap tou janti hain ke hum ek presentation ki tayari kar ra-"
"Hum kuch nahin jante Yuvraj Udayveer! Aadhe ghante mein aap ko mahal pohanch jana hai warna hum apse kabhi baat nahin karenge!"
"Really? Is that a threat that I am hearing Princess Manyata of Devgarh?"
"No, it's a fact that the future queen of Jaigarh is telling to the future king of Jaigarh!"
"In that case, hum 15 minute mein pohanch jaenge!"
"Ab itni bhi jaldi karne ki zaroorat nahin...sambhal ke ayiye ga. Hum kahin ja thori rahe hain..."
"Aur koi hukum?"
"Hmmm...nahin. Bus, aap ajaen."
"Ok! See you soon."
"Suno!"
"Jee?"
"..."
"Me too."
"Kya?"
"Jo aap ne kaha."
"Per hum ne tou kuch nahin kaha?"
"Lekin hum ne tou sab sun liya."
"Uff! Aap se jeetna hamare bus ki baat nahin! Bye!"
3.
He never lost. Simply because he had never learned to. The instinct to win came to him as easy as oxygen. He knew how to twist events to make them work in his favor. And as long as they were, he couldn't care less for those who were hurt due to it.
So, when he saw her crouched in some corner of the palace, crying like a lost child, he felt nothing but pity for her. Pity because she had decided to go against him. Pity because no matter how much she tried, she could never win against him. Pity because she still used her heart rather than her brain.
And amidst that pity, a tiny feeling of hurt breathed. Hurt because he had readily accepted her and she had readily rejected him, again and again. But even within it, no tender feeling existed. The feeling that would urge him to change for her and make her accept him. For change meant like losing to him...
...and he hadn't learned to lose.
1.
Peace. That was the only thing she craved more than anything. Some peace and some time alone for herself. All this going from one place to another, taking lessons to be a proper princess, working on having better relationship with her family; it was really tiring. Her usually bursting energy sometimes refused to help her get along with the business. At those times, she would sneak away from the watchful eyes of the elders and steal some moments from the quiet.
"Hey Princess..."
And at those times, his voice would break the invisible barriers of quiet and she would look back to see him leaning against the wall, his signature smirk plastered on his lips and his eyes glittering with mischief.
Then, she would sigh. And she'd shout at him, blame him, curse him; she'd rip off that princess skin off from herself and be the wild cat that she used to be. And he'd smile and take in everything without saying anything in return.
Because it was the she that he was so interested in and it was the he that she got so annoyed at. And just like that, they were perfect in the most imperfect way.
2.
"Hello Prin-"
"Where are you?! Aap jaante hain hum kitni dair se wait kar rahe hain apka?!"
"Oho! Princess, aap tou janti hain ke hum ek presentation ki tayari kar ra-"
"Hum kuch nahin jante Yuvraj Udayveer! Aadhe ghante mein aap ko mahal pohanch jana hai warna hum apse kabhi baat nahin karenge!"
"Really? Is that a threat that I am hearing Princess Manyata of Devgarh?"
"No, it's a fact that the future queen of Jaigarh is telling to the future king of Jaigarh!"
"In that case, hum 15 minute mein pohanch jaenge!"
"Ab itni bhi jaldi karne ki zaroorat nahin...sambhal ke ayiye ga. Hum kahin ja thori rahe hain..."
"Aur koi hukum?"
"Hmmm...nahin. Bus, aap ajaen."
"Ok! See you soon."
"Suno!"
"Jee?"
"..."
"Me too."
"Kya?"
"Jo aap ne kaha."
"Per hum ne tou kuch nahin kaha?"
"Lekin hum ne tou sab sun liya."
"Uff! Aap se jeetna hamare bus ki baat nahin! Bye!"
3.
He never lost. Simply because he had never learned to. The instinct to win came to him as easy as oxygen. He knew how to twist events to make them work in his favor. And as long as they were, he couldn't care less for those who were hurt due to it.
So, when he saw her crouched in some corner of the palace, crying like a lost child, he felt nothing but pity for her. Pity because she had decided to go against him. Pity because no matter how much she tried, she could never win against him. Pity because she still used her heart rather than her brain.
And amidst that pity, a tiny feeling of hurt breathed. Hurt because he had readily accepted her and she had readily rejected him, again and again. But even within it, no tender feeling existed. The feeling that would urge him to change for her and make her accept him. For change meant like losing to him...
...and he hadn't learned to lose.
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