Snapshots / RIKARA drabble series

Pretty Thoughts

"Ugh...who knows! he exclaimed for the umpteenth time and flopped back to the bed. "You're driving me insane.

A sharp strike of pain flashed through his head and he was finding it hard to concentrate.

Yet he couldn't help but notice that:

a) his head was hurting bad. A couple of minutes more and the whole thing would be blown to smithereens.

b) keeping his eyes open seemed to be a herculean task.

c) he would be asleep if it wasn't for the woman in his room.

The woman in question, his wife, had a very reasonable doubt why add letters to a word if you aren't going to pronounce them anyway?

Like the k in knife, the h in hour, and the w in two.

Well, the entire predicament began when the great Omkara Singh Oberoi volunteered to teach his wife English. He had expected it to be a breeze owing to his experiences with calculus and his brother Rudra, who wasn't much of a dedicated student. However, after the past two hours, Omkara's faith in his teaching abilities has undergone a serious havoc. He should have let her continue at that blasted academy, but then he had to punch the instructor in his face, all thanks to his bruised male ego. She still hadn't altogether forgiven him for that fiasco, but she was slowly getting there. He had hoped that he teaching her English would accelerate that process but you know what they say, karma is a bitch. And probably had horns too.

"Sun bhi raha hai ki nai? Gauri asked, narrowing her eyes.

Vexed by the lack of response, she shoved him hard on his shoulders. "Kuch bolo!Maine kuch pucha tha.

Gauri could be extremely stubborn when she puts her mind to it. God, as much as he loved her, he wanted to shove her out of the room and sleep. And maybe take an Advil. Well he shouldn't be doing it, but he had no choice but to take drastic measures.

Hence he said:

"Diye se na pucho uski loo me tail kitna hai

Saaso se naa pucho baki khel ab kitna hai

Puchna hi hain toh uss murde se pucho,

Zindagi me dard or kafan me sukun kitna hai

"Kyaaa? Gauri almost fell off the couch.

He tried to muffle the laughter rising up his throat, but failed miserably. Almost reflexively she grabbed a cushion and aimed it at him.

"Agar mehsus ho to itna samajh lena

khamoshiyo me bi aahat to jaruri hai

Ye zindagi hai humari koi jungle nahi

Isme aane wala hr humsafar jaruri hai

Shaking her head frantically she sealed her ears to close off the torture. Some shayaris were beyond her. Stomping her foot she walked out of the room.

Half giggling, half yawing he popped an Advil and fell into a deep healing sleep. Despite the splitting headache he was content. Happy too. All in all life is beautiful. He hoped that it'd remain that way. Forever.

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p.s Shayari found on google, all thanks to moody friends. I have altered a word or two.

Opposites attract?

You might forget words but you never forget colours.

She was a thousand shades of hope and optimism tangled up in dry tears; and he was poetry, random words stringed together with incoherent insecurities and intense emotions. A potential mismatch, one would say. She'd annoy him with her patience and he'll drive her insane with his mood swings. But somehow they made it work. Maybe it was because they were far apart in their reasoning yet so close in their wanting, something like opposite meridians that barely touch to form a circle. Maybe it was because both of them were paradoxes, walking contradictions on the face of earth. As she could be both practical and childish, and he could easily come off as a calm person and then hit 100 on the intensity meter. Or maybe it was just meant to be. Just like magic.

Because she was his balance wheel. And he was her supernova.