Love, Life & Internet.

We love, from miles away. We talk. We share. We chat. We loved to see each other, often through video chats. We used to make cute faces and often tease each other. We talked for long, whole nights. None of us was aware when the sun rose up. We slept in mornings, often. Our love was set as an example to others. We talked about our day schedule, sometimes about studies, many times about ourselves and often, love making. We were taking care from miles. There was a power of love that was keeping us together. I remember, how it started with and random friend request, to ‘friends’, and to ‘best friends’, and then, with our understanding, we didn’t need to share our feelings.

Her lustrous lips, her untidy glossy hairs and her shining tiny eyes; those looked more charming while talking on webcam. She looked cute.

One day, we were talking like another day, in our most romantic ways. She looked sad. I asked her many a times, she didn’t reply. There was something that was cooking up in her mind, millions of miles away from here. She wasn’t sharing. I tried every of the best possible way to please her. Suddenly, I came across an idea. It was tough to plan and leave her alone in such a time. But I had to do it. And I decided to leave her alone for next 10 minutes.

I managed everything in next eight minutes. It was time to go back online. I turned on my laptop, sat and kept everything exactly where it was required to be.

She was crying almost when I heard her voice. I asked her many times. And finally, she told. She was crying because of the long distances between us. She wanted to meet me. She wanted to

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The day Today !

Today, I am writing the book, rewinding my life in front of my eyes, and pausing each of the scenes to pen them down. The pressure cooker is whistling on one of the Saturdays, where my mother is cooking Rajma – Chawal for me in the kitchen. The romantic music is making my fingers flow on the beats. Mobile phone is kept on silent; I don’t want to affect my concentration.

I stood up and walked towards my cupboard. Few novels lie in stack at one corner; few read and few unread. ‘We’ used to share the best of the romantic love stories; reading together, looking into each other’s eyes when the romantic part in the novel starts. Secretly or unknowingly, I loved this way to reading together. Sometimes, we wished that our lives were so simple like that novel only. She used to kiss me when she read and so did I in my turns. It gradually became our habit to do the same. There had been none of the weekends in those days when ‘we’ didn’t met for reading the romantic tales. Often, she brought some Maggie to eat over. We saw dreams together. We made numberless promises. We loved every morning, because we knew what they were bringing for us. We knew how much we needed each other and we stayed together. Often when I see her, I love myself for the way I felt about her, every time. She used to write her name on my hands, in her cutest way. I loved when she used to drop a blank text over my phone. We walked whenever any of us was sad. She often used to hold my hands when we walked and say, “Until and unless I am holding you, we will make it”. I loved the feel the way we touched. I still can’t stop myself thinking about her. And this is my problem. Thinking too much, for the dreams and for the future, I will never have.  Turning over the countless pages of the novels ‘we’ shared, I found a

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The SMS conversation

‘Hey’, I texted her at 8:30 pm.

‘Message Sent Successfully’- The screen displayed.

A shiver of chill ran down my body, as I didn’t plan to share this with anyone. I was not tensed, but was thinking, how my girl would react on my decision.

               

‘Delivered to- Anisha’- beeped my TATA CDMA phone.

I checked my phone at least for couple of times in every 30 seconds. No replies.

I waited and thought about millions of possibilities that could be the reasons for not replying. Had she read message? Was she busy? Hope, her mom has not seen the phone. I went to balcony, I went to roof, and I went to street- so that I could get the best of the network. But, none worked.
‘She is my girlfriend... DAMIT!’ roared my mind every time I checked my phone. 

It was 9:45 pm and I didn’t get any of her reply. A thought of calling her passed across my mind. Checking the time, it was impossible to call her so as to keep her out of any kind of trouble. I looked up in the sky and wished! It was my day or maybe, it was by God’s grace that night, my phone beeped at 9:57 pm. It was her.

‘Hi.. Sry 2 reply late. I was bsy.’

As her boyfriend, I could never stop myself sending her an instant reply. I love her!

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Yes Plus, Bitch Please (Original by Tushar)

Hey, before you start reading this, let me make it very clear this piece of writing is intended for only those who aim to be great, I repeat, who aim to be great, I don’t care what you wish for, what your dreams are. This is not for pessimists, this is really not for optimists, but it’s for the realists, who believe in the real, in science, in facts. Even if you still want to read ahead, do it, don’t come back to me because 99% of you won’t understand this, you have been warned.
“Once upon a time, I was depressed, very depressed. My love had left me, I had earned myself an E grade in 3 subjects, my life had lost its meaning, and it was all over. But then my friend told me about a course called “Jeene ki kala”. I paid 2000 rupees and joined their session, my life changed.OMG! My love came back to me; I forgot about my E grades, my life had a meaning.”
Endless stories like these and endless fools like the one with the story above, I have just 2 words for you,
BITCH PLEASE.


Tricity: Chandigarh Panchkula and Mohali. Many engineering colleges, many engineering students yet same stories, same problems and same solutions to 95% of them, i.e. a program that can help their leadership skills, empower them, help them with their communication skills etc. And I thought I had learned all that at school.
Anyways, we all are college students, on an average each one of us has screwed a relation, fought with parents from choosing a program to choosing an ice cream flavor, stressed out and on an average every 7th student has an E grade to his name. So what does that make us, it makes us the stressed generation, aimless generation, stupid generation and a literally fucked up generation.
The country can never have any benefit from aimless wanderers, so who makes the most of them?
The programs designed to motivate them, bring out the best in them (depends from 6 days to 6 months depending on the amount of money you have paid).They know we are stressed, we have problems, we are emotionally and professionally stressed, Aww, this is so sweet, they come to our rescue, they want to make us happy, they want us to overcome our stress.
Alright, Enough of it.

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Secretly Loving you

Have you ever fallen in love with your friend and decided not to propose him/her as you fear to loose his/her friendship. This poem is written by a girl who has fallen in love with one of her friend and thus she decides to love him secretly without letting him know her feelings. I liked it, so wanted to share it.

I am in love with a guy who doesn't know it
And that's because I am afraid to show it
He would get upset if he knew how i felt
And even more for the pain I've dealt

If I told him our friendship would have to end
Then I couldn't even have him as a friend
I get so jealous, he likes her instead
I hate how this all goes through my head

If only you'd let me taste your sweet kiss
Maybe then I would know about all this
I could know for a fact that this was true

But now all I can say is that I love you
So please give me just one chance
To show you true, sweet, romance
I owe it to you, for all that you do
You make me happy, mad, and even sad too.

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