Are you the type who melts at the sight of cupids with suspended arrows on their pinky little bows? The one who yearn for the heart shaped boxes filled with Hershey’s ‘Hugs and Kisses’? Or whose girlfriend gives a tiny little kisshy n the tip if you nose for getting her flowers? Or may be the girlfriend of a guy who dare NOT forget the reason the flowery month of February seems to exist?
If you are, stop reading here.
Gandmasti ?
Ok fine read ahead.
I hate February. Reason minor: it’s NOT supposed 2 be 9.4°C when you’ve shoved away your sweaters.
Reason major:like every other month, this one’s got a 14th.
Think February think Valentine’s Day.
LOOOuuuuuVVVVEEE stories. New couples. ‘Ooooh he asked me OUUUUUTT’!!
So what? Alright, sour grapes to an extent. But for those of you who do have something to do on this day other than study for your boards, pray tell me, how has this one day been different than all those times you and your significant other have been coochie-cooing? Just because everyone else’s been doing the same too? Lame.
Peoples of the mighty homo sapiens sapiens race- Wakey wakey!!! It’s commercialisation. In-your-face. And true to our media-centred thinking, we fall for it. We (actually you, I’ve satisfactorily stayed away from the mush) spend a lot more on the one person we go ho-hum about than is reasonable. Okay, so every man to his own pocket. But why?
Because Archies/Hallmark/Expressions tells us that it’s the day some St.Valentine made immortal for spreading ‘loouuuv’. Spread loouuuv to the people who need it, not some one who’s alreay been around you grabbing all your attention all year long. Seriously, how d’you people develop the stamina to fuss over you lovey dove with more vigour? Do you, like, keep away from it for the rest of the year and ‘toot-padofy’ on the sacred day or something? Then again, ramblings of a non-experienced love-lorn journo, you may say. But from my point of you, we’re better off without VD than with it.
But I ask you, is it worth the hype? Isnt all that cheeku-meeku,my-shweety-pie thingy done all year long anyway? And if a guy does want to ask you out, or considering gender equality is grabbing balcony tickets everywhere, if the girl’s making the first move, wouldn’t he/she have done it sometime when he/she really thought he/she could cope with the burden of having your photo as the wallpaper of his/her phone? Or was he/she not sure enough whether it IS you who he/she fantasize about, and not that look-alike best friend of yours? Insult!!
Why the 14th of February? The S**v S**a in Maharashtra is already doing its bit to stop love from spreading, but who’d want to get kicked big-time in their a*s when Agony Maushi (me, stupid) is so patiently advising you to apply brakes before you fasten the seatbelt?
The card companies have NO intention of spreading that ickle bit of loouuuv in the world. You see, money is their best friend too, and they are so conveniently taking najaayaz faayda of your jawaani deewani and hypersensitive hormones to make money ki kya bolu.
My point, being in love is no crime, but shouldn’t you be expressing yourself throughout the year instead of waiting like a pakka chindhi for this one day so that you can get over with the pampering? Or am I getting the whole point wrong?
Spilling it out.
Friends aren’t perfect. A lesson I guess I learnt the hard way. And too late too. When two headstrong people get to be friends, with nothing more in common than that, the bond lasts as a strong one for maybe a few months, and then it weakens to the point that the friendship seems a burden more than anything else. And if the people involved are still trying to push it to work, they’re kidding themselves horribly.
Trust me, I know.
This one’s for a friend who made the right decision at the right time, before things got so sour that even I’d lose my temper, though she doesn’t know how thankful I am for that. I’m VERY patient, when it comes to people. She burst my bubble of stupid assumptions at such a point that it was neither too early nor too late. Another reason why I miss her. May be she even subconsciously knew that anymore of tagging along and we’d hate each other.
All those months we did know one another weren’t a farce. The friendship rose out of the need to find some sanity in the class of people who’d laugh at the most pervert jokes, a place to find comfort when Sirius Black was killed ruthlessly by Rowling, to fantasize about which one of us would marry which of the respective Adonis’s, perhaps a fictional Utopia we created comfortably to accommodate one another into our worlds. But fairy tales don’t have a happy ending real time. As much as I wanted to stay on as friends with that one person who could always guess what went wrong, and knew exactly what to say to get my back on the right track, I was kidding myself into trying make her my best friend, and trying to live out my dream of being her ‘ideal friend’ in turn.
But turns out neither of us were quite ourselves when we were with each other. Both had to watch our words just to make sure the other wasn’t hurt by them. Some thing I never thought she’d face and I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let happen to myself. But that’s the way it was. There were too many things that were slowly turning sour and constant eruptions of ‘“I’m-so-not-talking-to-you” “what-on-earth-did-I-do?”’ clouded the prospect of the friends-forever thing I had in mind. But I still didn’t have the pluck to let go.
To the friend I shall always respect for having broken the strings at the right cue, I still am disappointed that it should end this way. Had it been a little more amicable, perhaps I wouldn’t have to stare at the ground for those two-and half months you made me wonder if you could see me standing 3 feet from you. I can’t loathe you, no, because I’m just that way. Can’t hate anybody who’s made me stronger, and taught me so much by asking so less in turn, but I’ll still look forward to the time you can regard me as someone who existed in the same room as you did.
I’m glad you don’t feel the need of an apology, from either one of us to the other, because if we’re right in our own perspective, there’s no reason to be sorry.
I just want to thank you, for all the time you did spend happily with me, for making me a better friend to those who I know after that time you walked away, because even if I’m dyslexic when it comes to learning the more practical lessons in relations, I’m good at applying them, for everything that existed the time we’ve been friends.
And if we do meet at Malhar, I could wave at you and I’d be glad if you nodded in return.
Cheers.
Trust me, I know.
This one’s for a friend who made the right decision at the right time, before things got so sour that even I’d lose my temper, though she doesn’t know how thankful I am for that. I’m VERY patient, when it comes to people. She burst my bubble of stupid assumptions at such a point that it was neither too early nor too late. Another reason why I miss her. May be she even subconsciously knew that anymore of tagging along and we’d hate each other.
All those months we did know one another weren’t a farce. The friendship rose out of the need to find some sanity in the class of people who’d laugh at the most pervert jokes, a place to find comfort when Sirius Black was killed ruthlessly by Rowling, to fantasize about which one of us would marry which of the respective Adonis’s, perhaps a fictional Utopia we created comfortably to accommodate one another into our worlds. But fairy tales don’t have a happy ending real time. As much as I wanted to stay on as friends with that one person who could always guess what went wrong, and knew exactly what to say to get my back on the right track, I was kidding myself into trying make her my best friend, and trying to live out my dream of being her ‘ideal friend’ in turn.
But turns out neither of us were quite ourselves when we were with each other. Both had to watch our words just to make sure the other wasn’t hurt by them. Some thing I never thought she’d face and I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let happen to myself. But that’s the way it was. There were too many things that were slowly turning sour and constant eruptions of ‘“I’m-so-not-talking-to-you” “what-on-earth-did-I-do?”’ clouded the prospect of the friends-forever thing I had in mind. But I still didn’t have the pluck to let go.
To the friend I shall always respect for having broken the strings at the right cue, I still am disappointed that it should end this way. Had it been a little more amicable, perhaps I wouldn’t have to stare at the ground for those two-and half months you made me wonder if you could see me standing 3 feet from you. I can’t loathe you, no, because I’m just that way. Can’t hate anybody who’s made me stronger, and taught me so much by asking so less in turn, but I’ll still look forward to the time you can regard me as someone who existed in the same room as you did.
I’m glad you don’t feel the need of an apology, from either one of us to the other, because if we’re right in our own perspective, there’s no reason to be sorry.
I just want to thank you, for all the time you did spend happily with me, for making me a better friend to those who I know after that time you walked away, because even if I’m dyslexic when it comes to learning the more practical lessons in relations, I’m good at applying them, for everything that existed the time we’ve been friends.
And if we do meet at Malhar, I could wave at you and I’d be glad if you nodded in return.
Cheers.
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