Posted:
Hello all! I was rewatching the old episodes and was drawn back to the memories of those days. And so I sat down to write this. Hope it is good. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
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One serene evening at Kolkata found Sonakshi Bose lying on a couch placed right next to the window, gazing peacefully at the throngs of people milling about in trams on the street. She came for a short stay in the house she had spent 15 years of her life growing up, in Kolkata. She was on a break from work. What else could be a better way of spending her almost non-existent holiday than coming back to her beloved hometown? So here she was.
Sonakshi took her evening bath and settled down on the couch, placed precariously near the window. Sitting there one could get a view of the vast sea, Bay of Bengal, spread seemingly endless, its vastness leaving a viewer toungue - tied. An enchanting sight it was! But her baba, all through her childhood, had worried she'd tumble down the window and get herself hurt. He made sure it was shut most of the times. But now that she was 26 years old herself, she sat upon the couch stretching cozily, a persistent smile always lingering on her face. The smile, which did not show any signs of leaving her face these days.
She inhaled the smell of seaweed and salt the winds carried to her and her grin widened. She smiled at the trams, at the people rushing into them. She smiled looking at the orange hues of the evening sky and smiled more as she inhaled the smell of the pages of the classic she was reading. Everything seemed so endearingly familar and yet there was something new about everything. She smiled contendedly almost at anything. Even the smell of her shampoo. Why was the world suddenly seeming so beautiful? Not that she was very melancholic before. But everyrhing was changing and for all good. Or maybe it was her. And she knew why it was. As this thought crossed her mind, she grinned more, her cheeks colouring fast. It was because of him. It was becauase she was in love. It was because she associated every damn thing in this world with him.
Namkeen Si Baat Hain,
Har Nayi Si Baat Mein.
Teri Khusbhu Chal Rahi,
Hain Jo Mere Saath Mein.
Mr. Dev Dixit. Her world seemed to revolve around him these days. Oh god, that came out in a complete uncool and cliche, manner she thought. Get a grip, Sona, she reprimanded herself, though only half heartedly. She was in love with him. Irrevocably it seems, she heard one of her inner voices say to her. And yeah, she discovered she had inner voices too. Not just one or two. Around 5 of them, each confusing her with different thoughts. Yeah, she was a nutcase, she thought, cringing. But all her voices unanimously agreed upon one thing. That she loved Dev Dixit and she wanted to spend each waking moment with him. That her heart skipped a beat each time he smiled and that she was a complete goner and a lunatic. And when she felt the voices going over the board, like discussing whether 'nutcase' or 'insane woman' was the right word to use for her - like she wasn't present there at all- she would try shushing them. Okay, she thought, know she was speaking as if she and her voices were different people. Her situation was hopless, she conceded. Did she need the asylum?
Mr. Obhodhro, had done this to her. He would laughing at her had he known her situation. But there was no doubt about the fact that she enjoyed every second of her confusion. Every second she spent, thinking about him. Grr, this was the height of being cliche.
Everyday she spent with Dev - calling him that, to herself even, gave her jitters - seemed like a treasured moment. Each day, she believed, they got closer and she loved every facet of his she discovered. Was there any hope for her?
Halka, Halka, Pal Beete Kal Ka,
Gehra, Gehra, Kal Hojayegaa...
Aadha Ishq, Aadha Hain, Aadha Hojayega
Kadmon Se Milon Ka Waada Hojayega..
Wasn't this the wonderful thing about love? That it came as package. You had to bear with it, the heartbreak it brings, the possibility that your love won't find reciprocation. But still, we sign up for it. Because love is above mundane things such as grief and pain. Wasn't it why she was happy, okay, not just happy, euphoric, she admitted grudgingly - Mr. Obhodhro was supposed to be her arch nemesis- being in love with Dev even though there was a possibility that he wouldn't love her back? But she hoped with all her might that he did. For now, she was content with her half love story. There were still miles left to walk. She only hoped he would be there beside her, taking every step along with her.
When did she fall in love with him? Was it when he bared his soul to her as he made attempts to keep her awake? Or was it when she saw him laughing with childish glee for playing a prank on her? Or was it way before all this, the time when they danced in that party of his? She would never know.
In moments when she felt her body oozing and kicing of positivity, she assured herself, with unwavering confidence that he too loved her. Why else would he stare at her at random times, when he thought she wasn't looking? And that day. When she danced with one of his and her common colleagues, Abhi, he had dragged her out making some stupid excuse. He was in a sullen mood throughout the drive to her home and looked way -with dare she call it envy? - each time she took out Abhi's name. She did it deliberately, she admits. The sadist in her took pleasure in seeing him getting all worked up. When he dropped her home, he wished her goodnight, in a complete Obhodhro manner, totally uncalled for. Why couldn't he have dropped saying goodinght , altogether. He's just so impossible. Boka.
Beshumar Raate, Behisaab Baate,
Paas Aate, Aate Gum Ho Jaati Hain...
And there were those night talks. Unending talks. Mr. Obhodhro was making her isomniac too. They talked and talked about everything and anything under the sky. He told her about his day at work and she hers. They shared their goofy childhood moments, about the stuck up people they had to endure in their lives. They shared about what they detested about each other. And what they loved. Cough. Love wasn't the word. Like they called it.
And one day, he called her to let her know that he was taking her somewhere. At midnight! When she raised an eyebrow at the auhority in his voice, he somehow seemed to understand, and added a please cajolingly. She couldn't turn down THAT down. And so they went, to a beautiful place he's known as a child. The only place where he had felt peaceful in his childhood, he told her. She could fathom why. Isolated from normal surrounding and hustle-bustle of people, it gave an amazing view of the whole city. Holding her hand, taking her by surprise, he told her he never confided in anyone about this place. Not even his mom. He always preferred solitude. At her unspoken question, he shook his head smiling and said that she was not different from him anymore. Before she coud decipher what that cryptic remark meant, he started telling her about an incident in his child. His vulnerability that day broke something inside her. How fragile was he! Just like anybody else. But he put up this facade of being unflinching for his family. Why then, did he reveal himself only to her? Whatever the reason, she felt it was a prized moment. She took the liberty of laying her head on his shoulder as she cried along with him. She felt him relax under her. And this way, they made many memories.
Bekhudi Mein Dhal Ke, Bekali Mein Jaal Ke
Sau Nazarein Yaadein Nam Ho Jaati Hain.
Every second spent with him, she replayed in her mind. But the one memory which most often underwent this replay session was the one of the match. They were all sitting on the huge couch in Ishwari Mansion, the younsters only, to watch a match between India and Pakistan. Huge though the couch was, it could accommadate only some people. What with all people sitting on the very couch, for it gave a perfect view of the TV, they were all crushed together. Sonakshi felt Mr.Dixit stiffen next to her as their shoulders touch. Each time it happened, she felt herself hyperventialting. And his reactions seemed to be no different, though he was subtler. She couldn't believe she was distracted from an India-Pakistan match! India-Pakistan!! That day, her voices assured her she had unlocked new heights of insanity. And when the match ended, with India winning - she focussed on the match in the last over- they jumped up shreiking madly, hugging each other. Why did she feel the hug with Dev was longer than was customary? And as she realized, she felt her cheeks redden.
Pheeka, Pheeka, Pal Beete Kal Ka
Mehka, Mehka Kal Hojayega...
Everyday, they did something new. Like the scooty rides. He agreed to ride pillion on her scooty, claiming he didn't how to drive. And on her scooty they went to the coffee shop where their long discussions would ensue. She reprimanded him, berated him for all his mistakes. He wasn't left behind in pulling her leg and showing her where she went wrong. Weren't they true companions in all senses? And wasn't companionship a beginning of love?
The tenderness with which he looked at her when she was down with fever made her breath hitch. Was it possible for Mr.Obhodro to display such emotion too, she wondered. Later she would realize that he reserved such emotions only for her.
But there were moments and too many of them to ignore, when she felt she was a best friend to him not anything more. Or maybe he was taking a tad bit extra time to realize he harbours feelings for her. At her moments of depression, her rational mind always told her in a thundering voice that he still wasn't in love with her. Her heart disagreed feebly. She didn't feel he was obligated to feel anything either, frankly. Afterall, it wasn't an unwritten rule that a person will be loved back if they loved someone. Her baba always taught her that expectations were the root cause for dissatisifaction and sorrow. So she has no expectations and complains.
Aadha Ishq, Aadha Hain,
Aadha Ho Jaayega,
Kadmon Se, Milon Ka
Waadan Ho Jayega..
But hope? That would always be there. Hope that her half love story would get complete. As the evening was fast approaching, her room darkened and so did the sky. But she didn't bother putting on the lights. It was a tranquil feeling to sit hidden in the dark thinking about everything and everyone she loved.
It was time for the evening aarti and the prayers in the Durga temple began. Thouh she wasn't particularly religious, she thanked Durga Maa for everything, everyday as soon as the aarti began. But today she wished for something That she would find Dev reciprocating her love. She longed to be by his side every step of his life, sharing his sorrows and happiness. She hoped for his presence in each moment of her life. She sent her prayer hoping her incomplete love woud reach its destination. As if on cue, her phone rang, showing the face of her impossible man. Sudden tears welled up in her eyes as she grinned from ear to ear. It was time for their daily banter. Sonakshi thanking god, lifted the call and answered with an ecstatic 'Ami Tumake Bhalo Bhashi', making the person at the other end smile too, though he didn't know what it meant.
Aadha, Aadha, Aadha, Aadha Ishq.
Vignyathri
05 February 2017
___________________
One serene evening at Kolkata found Sonakshi Bose lying on a couch placed right next to the window, gazing peacefully at the throngs of people milling about in trams on the street. She came for a short stay in the house she had spent 15 years of her life growing up, in Kolkata. She was on a break from work. What else could be a better way of spending her almost non-existent holiday than coming back to her beloved hometown? So here she was.
Sonakshi took her evening bath and settled down on the couch, placed precariously near the window. Sitting there one could get a view of the vast sea, Bay of Bengal, spread seemingly endless, its vastness leaving a viewer toungue - tied. An enchanting sight it was! But her baba, all through her childhood, had worried she'd tumble down the window and get herself hurt. He made sure it was shut most of the times. But now that she was 26 years old herself, she sat upon the couch stretching cozily, a persistent smile always lingering on her face. The smile, which did not show any signs of leaving her face these days.
She inhaled the smell of seaweed and salt the winds carried to her and her grin widened. She smiled at the trams, at the people rushing into them. She smiled looking at the orange hues of the evening sky and smiled more as she inhaled the smell of the pages of the classic she was reading. Everything seemed so endearingly familar and yet there was something new about everything. She smiled contendedly almost at anything. Even the smell of her shampoo. Why was the world suddenly seeming so beautiful? Not that she was very melancholic before. But everyrhing was changing and for all good. Or maybe it was her. And she knew why it was. As this thought crossed her mind, she grinned more, her cheeks colouring fast. It was because of him. It was becauase she was in love. It was because she associated every damn thing in this world with him.
Namkeen Si Baat Hain,
Har Nayi Si Baat Mein.
Teri Khusbhu Chal Rahi,
Hain Jo Mere Saath Mein.
Mr. Dev Dixit. Her world seemed to revolve around him these days. Oh god, that came out in a complete uncool and cliche, manner she thought. Get a grip, Sona, she reprimanded herself, though only half heartedly. She was in love with him. Irrevocably it seems, she heard one of her inner voices say to her. And yeah, she discovered she had inner voices too. Not just one or two. Around 5 of them, each confusing her with different thoughts. Yeah, she was a nutcase, she thought, cringing. But all her voices unanimously agreed upon one thing. That she loved Dev Dixit and she wanted to spend each waking moment with him. That her heart skipped a beat each time he smiled and that she was a complete goner and a lunatic. And when she felt the voices going over the board, like discussing whether 'nutcase' or 'insane woman' was the right word to use for her - like she wasn't present there at all- she would try shushing them. Okay, she thought, know she was speaking as if she and her voices were different people. Her situation was hopless, she conceded. Did she need the asylum?
Mr. Obhodhro, had done this to her. He would laughing at her had he known her situation. But there was no doubt about the fact that she enjoyed every second of her confusion. Every second she spent, thinking about him. Grr, this was the height of being cliche.
Everyday she spent with Dev - calling him that, to herself even, gave her jitters - seemed like a treasured moment. Each day, she believed, they got closer and she loved every facet of his she discovered. Was there any hope for her?
Halka, Halka, Pal Beete Kal Ka,
Gehra, Gehra, Kal Hojayegaa...
Aadha Ishq, Aadha Hain, Aadha Hojayega
Kadmon Se Milon Ka Waada Hojayega..
Wasn't this the wonderful thing about love? That it came as package. You had to bear with it, the heartbreak it brings, the possibility that your love won't find reciprocation. But still, we sign up for it. Because love is above mundane things such as grief and pain. Wasn't it why she was happy, okay, not just happy, euphoric, she admitted grudgingly - Mr. Obhodhro was supposed to be her arch nemesis- being in love with Dev even though there was a possibility that he wouldn't love her back? But she hoped with all her might that he did. For now, she was content with her half love story. There were still miles left to walk. She only hoped he would be there beside her, taking every step along with her.
When did she fall in love with him? Was it when he bared his soul to her as he made attempts to keep her awake? Or was it when she saw him laughing with childish glee for playing a prank on her? Or was it way before all this, the time when they danced in that party of his? She would never know.
In moments when she felt her body oozing and kicing of positivity, she assured herself, with unwavering confidence that he too loved her. Why else would he stare at her at random times, when he thought she wasn't looking? And that day. When she danced with one of his and her common colleagues, Abhi, he had dragged her out making some stupid excuse. He was in a sullen mood throughout the drive to her home and looked way -with dare she call it envy? - each time she took out Abhi's name. She did it deliberately, she admits. The sadist in her took pleasure in seeing him getting all worked up. When he dropped her home, he wished her goodnight, in a complete Obhodhro manner, totally uncalled for. Why couldn't he have dropped saying goodinght , altogether. He's just so impossible. Boka.
Beshumar Raate, Behisaab Baate,
Paas Aate, Aate Gum Ho Jaati Hain...
And there were those night talks. Unending talks. Mr. Obhodhro was making her isomniac too. They talked and talked about everything and anything under the sky. He told her about his day at work and she hers. They shared their goofy childhood moments, about the stuck up people they had to endure in their lives. They shared about what they detested about each other. And what they loved. Cough. Love wasn't the word. Like they called it.
And one day, he called her to let her know that he was taking her somewhere. At midnight! When she raised an eyebrow at the auhority in his voice, he somehow seemed to understand, and added a please cajolingly. She couldn't turn down THAT down. And so they went, to a beautiful place he's known as a child. The only place where he had felt peaceful in his childhood, he told her. She could fathom why. Isolated from normal surrounding and hustle-bustle of people, it gave an amazing view of the whole city. Holding her hand, taking her by surprise, he told her he never confided in anyone about this place. Not even his mom. He always preferred solitude. At her unspoken question, he shook his head smiling and said that she was not different from him anymore. Before she coud decipher what that cryptic remark meant, he started telling her about an incident in his child. His vulnerability that day broke something inside her. How fragile was he! Just like anybody else. But he put up this facade of being unflinching for his family. Why then, did he reveal himself only to her? Whatever the reason, she felt it was a prized moment. She took the liberty of laying her head on his shoulder as she cried along with him. She felt him relax under her. And this way, they made many memories.
Bekhudi Mein Dhal Ke, Bekali Mein Jaal Ke
Sau Nazarein Yaadein Nam Ho Jaati Hain.
Every second spent with him, she replayed in her mind. But the one memory which most often underwent this replay session was the one of the match. They were all sitting on the huge couch in Ishwari Mansion, the younsters only, to watch a match between India and Pakistan. Huge though the couch was, it could accommadate only some people. What with all people sitting on the very couch, for it gave a perfect view of the TV, they were all crushed together. Sonakshi felt Mr.Dixit stiffen next to her as their shoulders touch. Each time it happened, she felt herself hyperventialting. And his reactions seemed to be no different, though he was subtler. She couldn't believe she was distracted from an India-Pakistan match! India-Pakistan!! That day, her voices assured her she had unlocked new heights of insanity. And when the match ended, with India winning - she focussed on the match in the last over- they jumped up shreiking madly, hugging each other. Why did she feel the hug with Dev was longer than was customary? And as she realized, she felt her cheeks redden.
Pheeka, Pheeka, Pal Beete Kal Ka
Mehka, Mehka Kal Hojayega...
Everyday, they did something new. Like the scooty rides. He agreed to ride pillion on her scooty, claiming he didn't how to drive. And on her scooty they went to the coffee shop where their long discussions would ensue. She reprimanded him, berated him for all his mistakes. He wasn't left behind in pulling her leg and showing her where she went wrong. Weren't they true companions in all senses? And wasn't companionship a beginning of love?
The tenderness with which he looked at her when she was down with fever made her breath hitch. Was it possible for Mr.Obhodro to display such emotion too, she wondered. Later she would realize that he reserved such emotions only for her.
But there were moments and too many of them to ignore, when she felt she was a best friend to him not anything more. Or maybe he was taking a tad bit extra time to realize he harbours feelings for her. At her moments of depression, her rational mind always told her in a thundering voice that he still wasn't in love with her. Her heart disagreed feebly. She didn't feel he was obligated to feel anything either, frankly. Afterall, it wasn't an unwritten rule that a person will be loved back if they loved someone. Her baba always taught her that expectations were the root cause for dissatisifaction and sorrow. So she has no expectations and complains.
Aadha Ishq, Aadha Hain,
Aadha Ho Jaayega,
Kadmon Se, Milon Ka
Waadan Ho Jayega..
But hope? That would always be there. Hope that her half love story would get complete. As the evening was fast approaching, her room darkened and so did the sky. But she didn't bother putting on the lights. It was a tranquil feeling to sit hidden in the dark thinking about everything and everyone she loved.
It was time for the evening aarti and the prayers in the Durga temple began. Thouh she wasn't particularly religious, she thanked Durga Maa for everything, everyday as soon as the aarti began. But today she wished for something That she would find Dev reciprocating her love. She longed to be by his side every step of his life, sharing his sorrows and happiness. She hoped for his presence in each moment of her life. She sent her prayer hoping her incomplete love woud reach its destination. As if on cue, her phone rang, showing the face of her impossible man. Sudden tears welled up in her eyes as she grinned from ear to ear. It was time for their daily banter. Sonakshi thanking god, lifted the call and answered with an ecstatic 'Ami Tumake Bhalo Bhashi', making the person at the other end smile too, though he didn't know what it meant.
Aadha, Aadha, Aadha, Aadha Ishq.
Vignyathri
05 February 2017
