A Million Dreams

The week passed, boards awaited for both of them. One was extremely tensed that he wouldn't get the college of his dreams, other one was too reluctant to make chotta's even. Different parts of country, different states, different schools yet the emotion was somewhat same, it was tension. In Kolkata, it was extremely difficult to guess who was more tensed ? Dhruv, because of the exam pressure or his mother just because he wasn't eating properly. Typical Bengali moms, for them their child is everything. They literally don't care a fig about anything, be it sudden rise in petrol prices, GDP drop of the country, who's the new president, or even an alien invasion. All they are worried about, the growth in onion prices, their daughters busy in the phone and why her son is not shaving the shabby beard, and most importantly, WHY IS HE NOT EATING PROPERLY ? - The national tension of mother's. Mothers are really special, even if they run a country, they possess an extra...

Adaria was a rich army brat, born and brought up in Mumbai. She studied in an Army School, as her father was a General in the Indian army. Her native place was somewhere in Rajasthan. Her mother was a famous Rajasthani folk singer whom Gen. Vikrant Solanki fell in love with during his Rajasthan border posting. She was their only child. There are numerous incidents when, the people noticed an Army Man, standing near her mother's house, waiting for hours for her to come near the balcony. Let's leave that story for another day.   Adaria was a proud girl, typical Army Officer's daughter with a royal charm of her own. Strong, rebellious and dangerously outspoken, these were her characteristics.  She was an extremely skilled athlete, ran the Mumbai marathon twice, bunking school of course, because her mother didn't want her to take part in it, but sixteen year old Adaria bribed her father with two more worksheets and somehow managed to take part and secure a respectable ...

The dinner table was laid, Dhruv was waiting in his tux and bumchums. Yes bumchums, because he was too tired to press his trousers after cooking all those things Ria loved. To hide the fact that he wasn't wearing trousers, he replaced the short floral table cloth with the velvet white one, which ended three inches above the floor. It was their first dinner in their new flat. He knew, Ria would take a hundred selfies before touching the food, in thousand poses, with hashtags #foodgasm, #foodislove #whenbaecooks #foodislife  and few more, and he thought that the selfies won't show his bottom. " I am a genius, what a life hack. You don't have to wear pants, if you don't have to get up. " he mumbled. He was probably proud of himself, that he saved a few calories by not pressing his pants and wearing them, apart from the fact that those batman printed boxers were heaven. The Menu ? Butter Chicken, Shahi Paneer and Kulcha, accompanied by The Choudhury's Rosho...

So you've planned, it you'll do it, over phone. There's no harm in it, it's completely fine. I mean you know it's legit in the path of finding happiness and true love, right ? The guy, the one who loved you more than anything else in this entire existence deserves it, Yes !? Girl, you think you'll give a goddamned lame fucking reason, that why this relationship ain't working anymore like it did few months back. Think of it, you can. You'll simply call him up in a random evening, waking him up after his lazy afternoon sleep, the fact that his heart still skips a beat when he hears his special ringtone set for you, the big full screen caller ID along with some cute nickname makes him as happy as he was perfectly a year and six months ago, when you called him for the first time, will be of no value. As you have made up your mind, of parting ways, finally. Hush. He'll receive, and as you've planned, you'll just say  " Hello ! It...

Dhruv waited eagerly for Ria at the dinner table, the same way he waited for her in the restaurant four years ago. He was an MBA topper, so he was good with numbers, he could recall every detail of every single day they spent together, every moment, every second. Waiting for his wife, he was lost in his dreams, nostalgic his heart was. Dhruv was a Bengali boy. " The Adorsho Shontan " of his family, being the younger one he was the one who was pampered with all the love and affection of his Dadu, Dida, Maa, Baba and his life, his elder sister, Shalini. She was really a girl, with an unmatched charm. Good grades, non academic prizes, and even she was good at writing, and what not ! Name it and she's the best at it. The brother and sister never fought, she was the only one with whom Dhruv was not reluctant to share his butterscotch ice cream. Dhruv followed his sister's footsteps and thus his school grades were good, good enough to land him in any of the top institut...

The door bell rang, " Coming !!! " Dhruv said, washed his hands and kept the remaining unwashed dishes aside and rushed towards the door. " I've been calling you since eternity, why is your phone switched off ? " Ria exclaimed, standing outside the door with groceries in her hand. " It's given for repair since morning, Sorry Baby, I texted you in the morning before giving it to them. " he said in a calm voice.  " Maybe, I was so busy I couldn't even see my phone." she said, and entered the flat, " You've arrived a day before. " he said, while passing her the glass of water. " Yes, the trip was shortened. " She replied. " Freshen up ! I've brought, some Red wine, your favourite, Pinot Noir. " Dhruv said, with a naughty wink. " You know what happened last time when I  drank it, right ? You still have those marks of nibbles in your chest. " She whispered pulling him by his collar,...

I don't need a lady for me, I need a partner in crime, the one. The one who would accompany me in my weirdest desires. The one who would spill water in my face just for fun. The one who would star gaze with me, and find it boring enough then dance without any music. The one who would talk to me for hours without any reason. The one who would eat my ice cream and invite a war every time. The one who would pillow fight with me then cuddle for days. The one who would never say no, to a pot of hookah in my place. The one who would dip one's Oreo in my cup and still think I won't punish her with ticklers. The one, who would climb on my back when playful and kiss my neck every time, here. The one, who would never be reluctant to try a new thing with me. The one who would join me in my workout, to divert me. The one who would cook, for me, with me. The one who would listen to my flute for hours and not be bored. The one, who would nurture me like her child, adore li...