PRB-RR-ST Nostalgia|Legends of Buoyancy|CC#5 (IO) - Page 5

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Posted: 3 years ago

Originally posted by: .SNOWWHITE.

But the biggest Kasautismiley11 for us as the viewers of KZK was AB would be there  in the middle of every good PRB scene. Split screen even in their consumation seqšŸ˜”

Argh! That was honestly the worst thing. šŸ¤£

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Posted: 3 years ago

Originally posted by: prerna4rishav


Oh that. šŸ’” And Prerna comes with her %%}*{+^ face and tries to justify her actions saying blah blah. And RB speaks nothing, not a word, and just turns back and stares at her. She realizes her jumble mumble isnt working this time. šŸ˜µ And RB leaves.


RB had his sleeves rolled upto his elbow or so. He looked his THE BEST in this track. 


I will upload the pix soon. 

Thank you so much for uploading those pictures. 

Edited by aryapdane - 3 years ago
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Posted: 3 years ago

Originally posted by: .SNOWWHITE.

But the biggest Kasautismiley11 for us as the viewers of KZK was AB would be there  in the middle of every good PRB scene. Split screen even in their consumation seqšŸ˜”

I swear! It was the most annoying thing. Har jagah they had to show him. 

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Posted: 3 years ago

Image


Image


I was quite obsessed with the indifference track lately and this scene in particular. We didn't get RB's monologue during this scene. Only Prerna's. And I thought... Well let's write the monologuešŸ˜…. So here it is. Not a monologue but my idea of what he might be thinking at this moment and the moments preceding it. No claims about its quality though. 

Give it a read a let me know what you think about it. 

Thank you so much @prerna4rishav. This piece is dedicated to you.

*


The Greatest Love Of All Times Is Over Now


It was a lie.

His knuckles whiten around the steering wheel.

Everything was a lie.

His eyes are fixed on the road but all he sees in front of him is Prerna. And that is his problem. He has never been able to see anything or anyone beyond her. Beautiful and charming Prerna, who can light up a room just by being in it. Who can steal his breath with a look. Who can stop his world from spinning with her brilliant smile. 

But she hadnā€™t been smiling just now, had she? There was fear on her face. And the reason for her fear was standing right next to her. Anurag Basu.

Anurag Bloody Basu.

Anurag is alive. Of course he is. 

Rishabh hadnā€™t even been surprised. And if he is honest to himself, seeing Prerna there with Anurag hadnā€™t really been surprising either. In fact it was the most obvious thing. Where else would she be, if not with Anurag? Weā€™re made for eachother. I can do anything for him. Hadnā€™t she told him that, all those years ago, when he had forced her to marry him? Hadnā€™t she told him that Anurag was the only one sheā€™d ever love?

And yet he had loved her. To the point that he had killed parts of himself, had completely remade himself to be worthy of her. But it hadnā€™t been enough. He hadnā€™t been enough. And heā€™ll never be. He knows that. He has always known that. And yetā€¦

What an idiot he was! What an utter idiot! Why had he assumed she cared about him? Why had he hoped? Why had he loved?

Iā€™ll come back to you. Iā€™ll never leave your side.

But she had lied. Of course, she had lied.

Why had he believed her?

Because it had felt good.

It had felt so good. Too good. He had finally felt she loved him too and that feeling had been beautiful. Way too beautiful. He had felt like he was soaring. 

But the reality was different. Is always different. There are rules to life that can never be changed. For every joy, there is sorrow. For every high, there is an unfathomable low. What goes up, has to come down. 

And he, he had risen too high.

Rishabh hits the highway and presses on the accelerator, letting the speedometer climb from sixty to seventy in seconds.

If only he had never loved her. If only he had never met her. If onlyā€¦

Eighty, ninety. 

The tires make an ugly screech as he rounds a bend. He rolls the window down, letting the cool air fill the car and hit the side of his face. Mumbai is nothing but streaks of light to him. Buildings, people, traffic signs are lines of colours as he flies past them. The speed dail reads a hundred and is steadily climbing. Rishabh doesnā€™t know where heā€™s going and maybe it is better this way. Maybe heā€™ll get lost and will be forgotten forever. Maybe this way heā€™ll be able to forget too. Maybe heā€™ll never see her again and heā€™ll be cured of his stupidity, his madness, his loveā€¦

What will she say to him when he sees her again? Will she ask for forgiveness? 

Iā€™m sorry I lied to you. 

And will those words be a lie too? The unfortunate thing about lies after all, is that they can hide in the sincerest of promises. And will he be able to forgive her?

Will he be able to forgive himself? 

No. He can never forgive himself. There can be no forgiveness for idiots like him. 

Muscle memory brings him home and perhaps he should say a prayer in thanks that he has made home without crashing his car but he is almost disappointed that he didnā€™t. Anything couldā€™ve been better that this gut-wrenching hurt. This pain. This eternal, infernal heartbreak.

He storms inside the house, barely sparing the bouquets lined up in the foyer a glance. What a happy birthday he is having!

What can I give a man who has everything? 

I just want you to be by my side forever. 

Fool! 

He shrugs out of his coat and makes a beeline for the decanter of whiskey. Pouring himself a generous measure, he drains the tumbler in one gulp. He pour himself another shot and then another. When he lifts the whiskey tumbler to drain it the third time, his eyes find the painting. Her painting. And the painting brings back the memories of all her lies.

What a naĆÆve little idiot he was. And still is. She had been lying to him all this time, had been looking him right in the eye and feeding him all that shit without a trace of remorse or guilt and he had been so gullible.

ā€œMr. Bajajā€¦ā€

It's her voice. Sheā€™s here. Rishabh doesnā€™t trust himself to turn around. To see her. To see her face. He doesnā€™t know what seeing her will do to him. And what he might do to her. So he listens to her excuses and explanations with half an ear, wondering how much of it is the truth. Maybe all of it are lies.

The words ā€œour relationshipā€ burns in his ear unbearably and he turns around before he can control the fire of the anger that he feels. He knows his face reflects his rage, knows he has never looked at her with such anger before. It causes her to fall silent mid-sentence. 

He walks away from the drawing room and towards his room, steady steps echoing through the marbled hallway. Rishabh tries to focus. On his steps. On reaching his room. On breathing, which is becoming harder with each passing moment. His hands claw at his throat to work the tie that is tightening around him like a noose and he tosses it aside. But the tightness in his chest doesn't abate. 

He kicks the door shut and falls on his bed. He can barely see anything for the tears clouding his eyes. He blinks them away but fresh tears chase to fill their vacant place. The discomfort in his chest is intensifying into pain. So much pain. And he fights the sobs from escaping.

No more tears.

No more false hopes. 

No more pain. 

Heā€™ll kill this love before it kills him. Heā€™ll end this pain. Thereā€™ll be no more love. No more hurt. No more heartbreak. 

No more.

No more.

~Fin~

      

  

  

Edited by aryapdane - 3 years ago
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Posted: 3 years ago

Ah! Another masterpiece is here. šŸ˜

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Posted: 3 years ago

Hi Guys!

thanks a bunch Wist for the invite

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Posted: 3 years ago

Originally posted by: Wistfulness

Ah! Another masterpiece is here. šŸ˜

Haha.. Aise nahin chalega. 

Write me a lamba comment yaar! 

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Posted: 3 years ago

Originally posted by: aryapdane

Haha.. Aise nahin chalega. 

Write me a lamba comment yaar! 

It's mindblowing! The scintillating  brilliance of your genius rendered me speechless. It always does. However, writings depicting heartbreaks belong to a different league altogether. 

Thanks to the vivid descriptions, I could picture literally everything with effortless ease. You did complete justice to that period between the revelation and the drive back home. That rising speedometer buttressed the intensity of his heartbreak. The terrible and the agonizing heartbreak needed expert handling and you surely outdid yourself there. It's damn tough to dive into a complex character's psyche. You not only succeeded in that...you came up with a perfect portrayal of his psyche. Kudos! šŸ˜

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Posted: 3 years ago

Originally posted by: aryapdane

Image


Image


I was quite obsessed with the indifference track lately and this scene in particular. We didn't get RB's monologue during this scene. Only Prerna's. And I thought... Well let's write the monologuešŸ˜…. So here it is. Not a monologue but my idea of what he might be thinking at this moment and the moments preceding it. No claims about its quality though. 

Give it a read a let me know what you think about it. 

Thank you so much @prerna4rishav. This piece is dedicated to you.

*


The Greatest Love Of All Times Is Over Now


It was a lie.

His knuckles whiten around the steering wheel.

Everything was a lie.

His eyes are fixed on the road but all he sees in front of him is Prerna. And that is his problem. He has never been able to see anything or anyone beyond her. Beautiful and charming Prerna, who can light up a room just by being in it. Who can steal his breath with a look. Who can stop his world from spinning with her brilliant smile. 

But she hadnā€™t been smiling just now, had she? There was fear on her face. And the reason for her fear was standing right next to her. Anurag Basu.

Anurag Bloody Basu.

Anurag is alive. Of course he is. 

Rishabh hadnā€™t even been surprised. And if he is honest to himself, seeing Prerna there with Anurag hadnā€™t really been surprising either. In fact it was the most obvious thing. Where else would she be, if not with Anurag? Weā€™re made for eachother. I can do anything for him. Hadnā€™t she told him that, all those years ago, when he had forced her to marry him? Hadnā€™t she told him that Anurag was the only one sheā€™d ever love?

And yet he had loved her. To the point that he had killed parts of himself, had completely remade himself to be worthy of her. But it hadnā€™t been enough. He hadnā€™t been enough. And heā€™ll never be. He knows that. He has always known that. And yetā€¦

What an idiot he was! What an utter idiot! Why had he assumed she cared about him? Why had he hoped? Why had he loved?

Iā€™ll come back to you. Iā€™ll never leave your side.

But she had lied. Of course, she had lied.

Why had he believed her?

Because it had felt good.

It had felt so good. Too good. He had finally felt she loved him too and that feeling had been beautiful. Way too beautiful. He had felt like he was soaring. 

But the reality was different. Is always different. There are rules to life that can never be changed. For every joy, there is sorrow. For every high, there is an unfathomable low. What goes up, has to come down. 

And he, he had risen too high.

Rishabh hits the highway and presses on the accelerator, letting the speedometer climb from sixty to seventy in seconds.

If only he had never loved her. If only he had never met her. If onlyā€¦

Eighty, ninety. 

The tires make an ugly screech as he rounds a bend. He rolls the window down, letting the cool air fill the car and hit the side of his face. Mumbai is nothing but streaks of light to him. Buildings, people, traffic signs are lines of colours as he flies past them. The speed dail reads a hundred and is steadily climbing. Rishabh doesnā€™t know where heā€™s going and maybe it is better this way. Maybe heā€™ll get lost and will be forgotten forever. Maybe this way heā€™ll be able to forget too. Maybe heā€™ll never see her again and heā€™ll be cured of his stupidity, his madness, his loveā€¦

What will she say to him when he sees her again? Will she ask for forgiveness? 

Iā€™m sorry I lied to you. 

And will those words be a lie too? The unfortunate thing about lies after all, is that they can hide in the sincerest of promises. And will he be able to forgive her?

Will he be able to forgive himself? 

No. He can never forgive himself. There can be no forgiveness for idiots like him. 

Muscle memory brings him home and perhaps he should say a prayer in thanks that he has made home without crashing his car but he is almost disappointed that he didnā€™t. Anything couldā€™ve been better that this gut-wrenching hurt. This pain. This eternal, infernal heartbreak.

He storms inside the house, barely sparing the bouquets lined up in the foyer a glance. What a happy birthday he is having!

What can I give a man who has everything? 

I just want you to be by my side forever. 

Fool! 

He shrugs out of his coat and makes a beeline for the decanter of whiskey. Pouring himself a generous measure, he drains the tumbler in one gulp. He pour himself another shot and then another. When he lifts the whiskey tumbler to drain it the third time, his eyes find the painting. Her painting. And the painting brings back the memories of all her lies.

What a naĆÆve little idiot he was. And still is. She had been lying to him all this time, had been looking him right in the eye and feeding him all that shit without a trace of remorse or guilt and he had been so gullible.

ā€œMr. Bajajā€¦ā€

It's her voice. Sheā€™s here. Rishabh doesnā€™t trust himself to turn around. To see her. To see her face. He doesnā€™t know what seeing her will do to him. And what he might do to her. So he listens to her excuses and explanations with half an ear, wondering how much of it is the truth. Maybe all of it are lies.

The words ā€œour relationshipā€ burns in his ear unbearably and he turns around before he can control the fire of the anger that he feels. He knows his face reflects his rage, knows he has never looked at her with such anger before. It causes her to fall silent mid-sentence. 

He walks away from the drawing room and towards his room, steady steps echoing through the marbled hallway. Rishabh tries to focus. On his steps. On reaching his room. On breathing, which is becoming harder with each passing moment. His hands claw at his throat to work the tie that is tightening around him like a noose and he tosses it aside. But the tightness in his chest doesn't abate. 

He kicks the door shut and falls on his bed. He can barely see anything for the tears clouding his eyes. He blinks them away but fresh tears chase to fill their vacant place. The discomfort in his chest is intensifying into pain. So much pain. And he fights the sobs from escaping.

No more tears.

No more false hopes. 

No more pain. 

Heā€™ll kill this love before it kills him. Heā€™ll end this pain. Thereā€™ll be no more love. No more hurt. No more heartbreak. 

No more.

No more.

~Fin~

      

  

  


ā¤ļøā¤ļøā¤ļøā¤ļø This is .... I dont have words. I was completely depressed and I remember crying for hours after this episode.šŸ’”  I wish he had uttered some dialogs, some monologues, anything. But his absolute silence and Prerna's coldness .... I cursed her for good that day. 


I am saving this. Another gem added to your bucket.