Hello everyone,
This is Piu and perhaps you have seen me lurking around the forum. I tried to write a random drabble on Prerna and Rishabh. I wrote their names separately because they are not a couple yet and as emphasized many times, I like their journey. Often great stories are born out of unrequited love. For me, it's the journey that matters. Read it for them as individuals and not as a couple, without the myopic vision of shipping any particular Jodi.
Could Prerna and Rishabh be together like in the previous season? Or, they could be like Hadi and Khaani from the Pak Drama Khaani (Those who haven't watched it, its a must-watch. It's on Netflix.) Leaving it open for discussion.
Bouquets and brickbats are all welcome!
P.S. - Finding Logic in a TV show is beyond my skillset now. I don't let stupidity grate on my nerves anymore. And yes, blame Ankie and Ramya for this. This is not your typical OS but I still triedš¤
Who is she?
She was a Tempest!
She was a like storm. She hovered over the lake that was as placid as my surface and as fathomless as I once was.
The lake that bore the secrets to stifled suffocations and murky miseries. She was turbulent and did not let me breathe, threatening my deathly silence every now and then. Her frenzy was her strength, and the clamour incited me in ways that I could have never imagined. The touch of ice and fire together inside my heart. The silence that stirred another storm in me āthe storm of owning her.
Who is she?
She is a River?
Sometimes, I see nothing but a jaded restlessness in her eyes-the eagerness to run like a river towards the ocean. Am I her ocean? Am I the one? I want to be her ocean. I will be her ocean. The more I tried to see my reflection in her eyes, the more I drown as a diver slips into the mysterious depths of the river. She needs to embrace me and seductively sink into a state of delirium-like the river being engulfed by the majestic wavy peaks of the furious sea, but why am I caving in? How can the ocean collapse in the arms of a river and sliver into bits? Wasn't it supposed to be the other way round? I am her ocean but is she my river?
Who is she?
She is my Mirror!
She smoulders like a mirror in virginal sunlight, the shiny bits of her resplendent in her calm. We made peace like the silvery sheen of romantic moonlit nights. We made peace basking in our individual solitude.
I did not like our accord, I hated the quietude.
That one look of submission... That one touch of compassion... that one walk of companionship...that one night of deranged passion... that one smile of affection... that one glimpse of love...It will never be mine.
She is selfish! Yes, she was selfish! Her blissful oblivion tears me apart.
I am raging in my emotions now. Just like a storm, violent and malevolent. For silence, I still craved?
Calling her selfish gives me a sense of calm because she has left me wandering alone in my wilderness. It soothes my savage heart and strokes my amour propre with soft feathery strokes.
She is an iron-heart with a soul like copper, I thought she would acquire a patina with age. The cravings of my moist heart would touch her eventually. She is an iron-heart, in fact, nickel-plated.
There's no hope!
She is now my Mirror!
Her silence has impregnated me and bound me to her forever. I have found solace, but this mysterious mayhem still boggles me. Why wouldn't she love me? Why couldn't she love me?
She is so selfish, I so emphatically want to believe, and in the end, my belief is stirred. I am selfish, and I admit that today.
I am Rishabh and she is my Prerna.
P.S.
Patina- is a term used for the crumbling greenish oxidative coating that develops on reactive metals as they age or when exposed to moisture and temperature.
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