Hate Story» 8

        e I g h t       

What strange creatures brothers are!

~Jane Austen

M A N I K

It's strange how one does not realize how much someone's absence costs them until they are finally there again. 

I had not realized how much I missed Cabir, his humor, his sarcasm, our banters, and mostly, his presence. His silent support in every mischief I got up to or every struggle I faced. 

This feels good. It felt...hopeful. 

"Bachelor's Day — a time for men to gang up and celebrate with the rest of the single guy bunch. It's about having a good time, and..."  What he didn't miss was this. This was annoying though.

"Cabir, "he stopped," I know what bachelor's day means. Stop reading articles from google." 

"No, you don't." Cabir denied. "If you have known we won't be setting this snack table in front of the TV. "

"A game night is a good start," I said but he wasn't having it.

"Even a movie marathon would have been better than playing these battle games." he gestured to the stack of games on the table.

"We can do that then," I suggested but again, he is Cabir.

"But I don't want to," he whined. Not again.

"Cabir, it was your idea," I pointed out.

"Of course it was. I am not denying it," Cabir said but he was sure there was a but there.

"But..." there. "it was just to stop you from planning a candlelight dinner. And instead of understanding my sarcasm, you decided on just that."

"I...sarcasm?...but... I don't understand. " I said, "You only advised me to talk to Abhi. And to break the ice, I decided to invite him for a game night in my room."

"To break the ice you don't need to play games. You need to say sorry," he advised with a straight face.

I felt my cheeks heat up but no, I was not embarrassed. It's just that Cabir always made me feel like an idiot.

"You look cute when you blush," Cabir stated amused like a nuisance he was.

"I am not," I replied defensively. A chuckle sounded from behind and I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Cabir's big grin was enough of an indication as was the sound itself.

"Well, the effort counts Cabir." Cabir was already moving. And with the laughter that followed, they were obviously hugging. I should turn. I ought to but I could not.

Hate Story» 7

        s e v e n       

"If you have two friends in your lifetime, you're lucky.

If you have one good friend, you're more than lucky."

― S.E. Hinton

M A N I K

Ranting about your life story to a stranger, they say, is sometimes the best option one makes in case family and friends are somewhat; unreachable, if that even makes sense.

But the best of best would come just to the luckiest and that being the presence of that one friend, one who makes you realize you matter.

Cabir Dhawan is just one famous standup comedian whose humorless humor too hit the perfect humorous aspect. As quoted by Cabir himself, "Sarcastic Humor or Humorous Sarcasm, it's all about terms. On the whole, it's all about comedy and comedian."

Whereas Cabir was, is, and will always be my Knight in shining armor if I can say that.

"So," Cabir finally broke the long silence, "Found someone?"

His straightforwardness always manages to make me bewildered. Having known him since childhood too, his to-the-point talk hits me in the head like a bouncer before I get to dodge it.

"What do you think? " he glared at me for my regular question for question instead of an answer.

"What if I say you did? " it's confirmed he knows me like the back of his hand.

"Maybe I will say yes," I replied casually remembering her.

Hate Story» 6

        s I x      

"He was jealous of her future, and she of his past."

― Anaïs Nin,

M A N I K

Sunrise and sunset both are a sight to behold if you really are a beholder of the beauty. But is it necessary for you to be, as quoted by many, "beholder of the beauty?" Is it bad if you are just the beholder of life, or to be specific either an optimistic beholder or a pessimistic beholder?

But again, talking about being optimistic or pessimistic, what will you call a person who is completely optimistic as others like to say after talking to him/her or taking advice from the say but the truth is; there is no one who can hold the title of a pessimist like the same one. Does that even make sense?

Not wanting to read more, for the time being, I just closed the book without even bothering to bookmark the page to continue reading it sometime later. Maybe it was all getting too much to bear that even reading could not stop the turmoil I was feeling.

It's ironic how I was reading the article of the same person for over an hour now when she was the complete reason for all the thoughts going on in my mind. Or maybe she was not?

But again blaming others is as simple as it is then accepting your fault. Isn't that what it describes us as human beings? A better phrase - a jealous human being.

Jealousy in itself is a dangerous world, not just a word. It's like that storm in the depth of your existence- heart, mind, or soul; which either withers your petals or, simply, pierces others with your thorns.

Jealousy - an abyss tinted by your own insecurities, past experiences, or future preferences.

But again comes with it a tinge of regret for some while some drown themselves in the same pit of regret till there are no thoughts to think.

That was the feeling I, Manik Malhotra, was carrying sitting in my music room with bleeding hands that tinted the white handkerchief all red since all the events that happened in just a few hours. And the reason for all the mess was I, me, and myself.

I was drowning in the guilt of running the happiness of my brother when I heard that voice, the voice that is like my salvation for the time.

"Guitar, Guitar strings, and Rockstar, " he greeted while entering the room, "Here I am. And I brought you a surprise gift."

"Tadaaaa...."

Hate Story» 5

        f I v e       

"A soul mate would be great, but at some point

 I'd settle for someone who gets back to a text message."

~Atticus

M A N I K

Life is unexpected they used to say and today I realized it.

Who would have believed I, Manik Malhotra, will be smiling looking at the text messages that too of someone whom I met just three days back?

Yes, somewhere she is still a stranger but again, remembering our journey of these three days we were never strangers though we have met just for once.

My phone vibrated again as I made myself comfortable in the bed.

One new message from Mini Monster.

Mini Monster. That's a nickname given by me to Nandini Murthy. Firstly, that was just based on the things I have heard about her and how she loved to prank others and irritate and annoy others. But now it's from experience. Also, the name is perfect for her personality.

And most importantly, she knows it as well so it does not come under any bad category. But guess what, now I feel like why I had to give her a nickname cause for the last half an hour she has been trying to give me names, and trust me, all are too weird and most of them are so hard to pronounce too or simply say I didn't know such a word even existed.

Mini Monster: 

How about damoiseau?

Me:

What does that even mean? Is it even a word?

Mini Monster:

Leave that. It's difficult to pronounce. How about Pinky Prince?

Me: 

What the hell Nandini?  Pinky? That too prince. Do I look like a three-year-old kid to you?

Mini Monster:

Malhotra, who told you that only a "three-year-old kid" can love pink color? And the prince can wear pink too not just princesses.

Me: 

I don't know that but I don't like pink. So better change that name.

Mini Monster:

Don't worry I will make you love that. Nandini Promise ;)

Me: 

In your dreams.

Mini Monster:

Trust me, I have already seen you in the pink shirt in my dream.

Hate Story» 4

        f o u r       

" There are no strangers here; Only friends we haven't met yet "

~W.B.Yeats

M A N I K

"Wasn't the Ferris wheel supposed to be the last ? " she raised her eyebrow at me as I turned the car in the direction opposite to the place she was staying. 

"It was the last but last, is never the end." she groaned at that. I didn't understand the meaning of her this groan - if it was of approval or not until she spoke out loud confirming it was seriously of disapproval.

"Was Mukti less that you too started with these riddles? " I could not help but smile at that. Being a writer and that too one of the best  ( if I add ) - talking in riddles was something Mukti was too fond of or, simply habituated to. 

"Trust me, I am not even a percent close to hers." to this she simply shrugged,

" Who knows that better than me? " she continued, " And that's not even the thing that irritates me. It's when I ask her what does that even mean and her simple reply saying..."  which I completed for her.

"You will come to know as the time comes." she gave amused smile at that but then maybe realization dawned upon her that Mukti was no different from people she came across. It's just that she was the same for all but again different and it was hard for the person to depict her personality even if they are too close which included Abhi too.

I am not sure about Nandini though as Mukti and Nandini are not someone who would call each other their soul. They don't even talk for days due to their busy schedule but again they can feel if one is fine or not. 

It's like their soul is connected. 

Now also they are meeting after five years but looking at them anyone will think they are always together but no one knows it's never the case. 

Hate Story » 3

        t h r e e        

M A N I K

Today is the day.

Does this statement ever come to your mind? When?

Maybe on your birthday or of someone special to you. Or, on Sunday like we say " Today is the day I am going to sleep and eat all day with no school or no work or any other work but just you and your weekend. Maybe for some, this is during the festive season and time to spend with family, friends, and so on.

The day.

There was nothing like the day for me before today.

Not until morning when I was sitting in the car and was thinking about a person.

A person whom you know but have not met yet. A person about whom you have heard a lot but not ever heard their voice. A person whose face is clear to you from those numerous photographs but again, you don't know the real beauty. A person who is the complete opposite of you but again, it's what you know from other's views. A person who is just like your friend's friend but again, you don't know if you guys are friends or not?

What do you call this sort of person who is the stranger but not a stranger?

How do you start a conversation with a known stranger?

Formal or Informal.

Confused right? The same was the feeling I was going through this morning but now, at this moment it all seems like years have passed and I feel so stupid of myself for even thinking like that.

"Why are you grinning like an idiot?" she asked with curious eyes but before I could reply she herself spoke ..." Never mind, who was I asking to? I just keep forgetting that you are an idiot."

"Did you just call me idiot Miss, Murthy?" I raised my eyebrows but again who was I kidding?

"Yes, Mr. Malhotra. I did call you that only." and she was smirking. This girl. But again I could not help but remember all that happened today and again that stupid smile formed on my lips and I spoke something that never thought I would have said after her previous reply...

"Thank u Nandini. "  and she was shocked would be an understatement. Wait did I just speak any foreign language? No, then but my confusion was cleared by her only...

"This is the first time someone is saying thank u that too so politely with no sarcasm after I called them an idiot." oh god, this girl. How can one be so dramatic?

" It was not for that" and she gazed at me with narrow eyes" It was for today. "

"I don't know when I enjoyed my life like this before today. Life was so hard that I never got time to enjoy it like there's no tomorrow. " but she cut me off...

"Manik, life is never hard. It's us who think so. And about enjoying it, there is always time, we just need to have the courage to live in the time without planning."

I could just nod at her. Somewhere she was correct too. 

"Manik, what do you think will happen if we jump from here?" and I looked at her horrified.

"Nandini Murthy, we will reach either hospital. But seeing on which height we are I guess we will directly reach heaven." I replied seriously while looking down at the ground. No, it's not a cliff, but rather a Ferris wheel.

Ferris wheel of 64 ft. and we were at the top for the last 15 minutes waiting for the ride to start. 

"But seriously Manik tell me, you are enjoying this idea of ending the day with this ride?"

"I hate to say it but yes, I like this idea. Never thought I would do such crazy things in a day."

"Manik, these things don't count under crazy. They are the adventure," she stated as a matter of fact.

"Oh really. Let me remind you about everything we did and explain how this all counts under crazy. Also not just adventure but life-threatening adventures."

"So let's rewind what we did today ?" I nodded and she continued.."Let's point out everything we did and see if they count under crazy or fun."

"Okay done. So first destination among five..."

"Silent disco..."

Hate Story » 2

        t w o       

"I feel like girls who drink whiskey have good stories"

~Atticus

M A N I K

"Heartbroken heart breaker, that's what they call me. They think I rule the dark world but only I know how much I fear that darkness," she said while gulping down the liquid at once with an expression that said it didn't taste good at all but nevertheless. After putting the glass down she looked at me with a smile and asked if I wanted to dance. I nodded negatively and she shrugged casually before making her tipsy form to the dance floor already crowded with people. 

Strangers. It's sometimes good to hear out their story. Some make you laugh, some make you sleep and some show the hidden reality of life.

It's strangely peaceful listening to others' experiences, connecting to their life characters and blending in their words, and brewing your own thoughts about what might have happened ahead. And getting all curious to know more.

"I know the most active part of a person's body is the mind but that does not mean you think so much that forget the surrounding. You are drinking from an empty glass Manik. Let your mind rest at least in this noise of the club." and this brought me out of my train of thoughts.

Hate Story»1

        o n e       

Stars. Moonlight. Cliff

Water.Reflection.Wind

 A firework beside for light

Perfect.

I was sitting there in the midst of all these with a book in hand.

A book, which genre you say then I don't have anything to say. It does not resemble anything I guess. Looking at the cover there it was the title in board letters printed as "Hate Story"

And it's completely just in three colors - Red, white, black

It's ironic how these colors compliment each other so perfectly, so well sculpted.

Black means darkness which can hide the white light while red; one side means blood and the next side it's love as a rose is red I guess. But when these three come together a masterpiece is formed.

Like here the flames are red, tiny stars are white and the dark night but also all the setting is just perfect as if they are celebrating. Today the moon is shining brighter than the one on the usual full moon day. Maybe something big is coming or has already come that they are in full swing to celebrate. Maybe history will be written or has already been written.

Taking my eye off the view and lingering on the cover of the book for some time I turned to the first page.

And there's a slight monologue. Like a blurb maybe.

"hating the word hate to hating you; 

hating you to hating myself for hating you in the first place. 

It's all about the play of fate where the keyword - hate,

 writes our hate story"

Again my eyes started to explore the view surrounding me but my thoughts were stuck in those words which I read just now. Stopping all the pondering I again started to flip the page and there comes the first chapter, the first word,

First-word music. Maybe I will start to read books if it gets to start with my favorite thing always

Hate Story

        p r o l o g u e       

 "hating the word hate to hating you; hating you to hating myself for hating you in the first place. it's all about the play of fate where the keyword - hate, writes our hate story"

She looked at him with those accusing eyes. The raging fire wished him with life all red - his favorite color splashed in hate.

And he was terrified knowing he was heartless? And that thought only brought tears to his eyes.

Next Chapter→

Loveswept↝ TS

"HP what is wrong with you? I told you to use red roses and here you are? " 

Why can't he for once do things properly? Today was such an important day.  Everything needs to be perfect and here they are. And if di comes by, she will scold me only.

'Arnav' Here she comes.

'Arnav what's wrong with you? Why are you shouting at poor HP? Let him do his work.'

She loves that hp more than her own brother.

One thing I didn't get is why the hell everyone supports hp instead of me.

'That's because he is right and you are wrong Chote.' Di answered glaring at me.

'What the! Di, how can you hear what I'm thinking?'  I asked baffled.

'Because as usual, you were thinking loudly. Now don't disturb me and tell Khusiji to get ready fast. It's time to start.'  Di replied and moved away instructing hp to do his work without listening to me.

From the corner of my eyes, I can see HP grinning ear to ear and giving me that winning smile. Wait and watch I thought before moving toward my room not wanting to get the next round of scolding in front of hp.

You must be wondering who I am and what's with the preparation, right?

Ok first let me introduce you to my di. Anjali Jha- my di is happily married to her husband Shyam Manohar Jha who is a fashion designer by profession.

Ok now coming to my introduction. Frankly speaking, I'm not someone who likes praising himself. So in short, it's me Arnav Singh Raizada aka ASR. The most successful businessman in India, the most eligible bachelor... oops! sorry I forgot I'm already married. The devil boss, most dashing, versatile, and most handsomest I know that no such a word exists but what to do, I don't think any word has been discovered to date to justify my good looks.

Like I already told you. I don't like praising myself. So that was my short introduction.

And now talking about the function it's mine and Khushi's pre-wedding function. 

Ok no need to trouble your brain thinking about who my Khushi is. She is my better half, my wife, and my life.

Now don't give me that look. I know the wife and pre-wedding rituals don't go well. Don't worry I'll come there also. First, let me talk about my Khushi.

Khushi like her name has brought immense happiness to my life. Our marriage was in every sense arranged marriage. The type where the groom sees his bride's face only on the marriage day. I know it's hard to believe but my case was the same. I saw her face only on our marriage day.

So the story as always starts with Di.

Gift ↝ OS

"Arnav. Arnav."

Arnav looked up just in time to catch his excited wife from toppling them both with the speed she crashed at him.

"Slow down Khusi. What got you so excited?" Arnav said holding his wife who was already wriggling in his grip.

She gave him a dazzling smile before starting to pull him with her "I want to show you something. Come along."

"What?" Arnav asked curiously while letting her drag him towards the front door.

Khushi turned slightly to give him a beaming smile, "Patience Arnav."

He could only shake his head at his super-excited wife.

Khushi being excited was not a new occurrence. His lovely wife was always sporting that radiant smile and excitement even for small things. But the happiness she had today was more and he knew it.

He was dragged all the way to the parking area where he was greeted by 'The Beauty.'  

Color Brave

 

  ‘‘The blindness of eyes does not matter until your words lit my pathway with light.’’

"In this colorful world, our world is colorless," she whispered looking ahead through her lifeless eyes.

He smiled and his eyes of pure darkness shined and those colorless words slipped from his lips and splashed to make her world colorful. 

"Not everyone is lucky enough to unravel the secrets that dark holds. We should consider ourselves lucky enough to be residing in dark amidst black and grey with a pinch of glimmering white and knowing colors are just a cover to the beauty that dark held. " 

Poetic Trove » 1

 28th February 2019

From falling like autumn leaves 
to rising like sky lanterns
was her journey
of becoming 
stardust 
from ashes of unjust.

⁘⁂⁂⁂⁂⁘

Chaotic Chaos : 5

 

04/01/2022

he walks

barefoot, on the heated sand.

he runs

wet, on the crashing waves.

he skips

laughing, over the tickling grass.

he dances

Chaotic Chaos : 4

 

01/23/2022

he was

breathless

by wandering, 

consumed 

by wanderlust.

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Next Chapter→

Coffee Stains ↠ 1

 

◢✥◣

C H A P T E R - 1

◥✥◤ 

Manik stood on the balcony early morning, the heat from the coffee mug warming his cold hands. 

The first sip left a warm trail as it descended. A little steam exhaled with the sound, "Aaah." 

 

His eyes took in the hustle and bustle surrounding the apartment building. He could hear the morning aarti and the laughter therapy. He could see walking for fitness and running for early work. He could see sleepy faces and hear chirpy tones.

It was a contrast to his everyday life. This felt almost...lively. 

"Anything interesting?" he turned to see his best friend leaning against the balcony door running his hands through his hair making it messier.

"It's all so...different." He paused but used a simple word.

"No any complicated words?" ever the insightful one, Manik thought.

"Would your sleepy brain process it?" he asked instead.

"Sarcasm sarcasm...guess I will leave you to your coffee till you are lovely again."

"Where are you going? " he found himself asking.

"The park across the street. It's fresh and lively in the morning." came the reply.

That word again, he thought. He could hear Cabir mumbling about his track pants.  

His eyes once again sought out the view and his mind was made. Drinking the coffee didn't take long. The habit made it easy to drink it hot. Though this never let him have a proper tastebud for all-day with the constant irritation in his tongue.

"Cabir, wait..." he shouted seeing Cabir already out of the main door.

"I am coming." he thought Cabir would ask something, anything. But the silence prevailed. 

He wore his shoes, closed the door, and followed Cabir. He waited for Cabir to ask. He wanted Cabir to ask. But he didn't.

Manik knew he would start fidgeting soon in this silence. His mornings were quiet but that didn't mean he liked it. And with Cabir, this should be filled with talk. This was not acceptable. 

But Cabir didn't say a word. 

He didn't even notice they have descended so many stairs already. They were already in the front of the building now moving out the main gate. 

The street was not busy and they were entering the park within minutes.

"You seem restless," Cabir said. A question phrased, more like stated.

"I am fine." the lie leaving his mouth easily. One more bad habit.

"Are you? Really?" Cabir asked again like he knew what was bothering me. Of course, he knew.

"Don't," he warned already knowing what Cabir will say.

"You want this. This simplicity. This calls you. Lures you." 

Don't I know that he wanted to shout but neither was Cabir's tone accusing nor provoking? It was accepting. And that felt more horrible. 

"No," Manik said. "We are not having this discussion here."

 

 "Manik."Cabir started but he was running already.

He didn't know what he was running from. From Cabir and his insistence or, from himself and his thoughts. He was sweating and panting when he finally stopped to catch a breath. His mind for some time had stopped overthinking and despite his increased heartbeat, he felt calm. 

He looked around for Cabir but didn't see him. So, he took a seat on a nearby bench. The park wasn't too full but not empty either. There was a fair share of people of all age groups. It was nice seeing an aunt scolding her husband while jogging, elder people walking with their grandchildren, the teenagers trying to work out, and couples sharing glances.

He realized he had missed this till he was here, experiencing it again. He loved to have sleepovers with Cabir at his parents' when he was a kid and just came over when Cabir moved out. But now when they were settled and he took over the business more actively, he had stopped being in the moment and daydreaming. He had started to revolve his life around the business so much that he had even forgotten how good it felt to just imagine.

"Stop overthinking everything, you idiot." for a second he thought Cabir was back and he was getting reprimanded. 

"I am not." came the reply instantly which sounded like a whine with its defensive tone. He wondered if he sounded like that to Cabir. 

The first thing he noticed as he turned towards the voices was the long shiny black hair with red highlights. Beautiful, was his first thought. An itch to touch it was second and 'Manik' shouted in horror in Cabir's voice was his third making him snap out of his 'hair trance' as Cabir called it.

He could clearly picture Cabir shaking his head, "You need to stop getting obsessed with hair Malhotra."

 "Nandini, I can hear your brain begging for a moment of peace." Her hands went up to show her exaggeration. Her hair swayed like a dancer in a slow beat.

"Now, you are exaggerating." he couldn't see their faces with one leaning against the tree and the other covering her whole but again, he was too consumed by those beautiful locks to wanting to see their faces.

"Am I now?" the voice loaded with sarcasm. Manik thought the hair color suited her.

"Mukti," and there was the whine again. He didn't want to believe he sounded like that to Cabir.

"Manik" he jumped at the sudden contact of a hand in his shoulder. His hand went to his chest feeling his heartbeat rising.

"Cabir, you scared me." Cabir frowned at him before looking at where his attention was. His expression screamed not again.

"I was not," Manik spoke. His tone was exactly like he didn't want it to sound. Defensive.

"Are you sure about that?" He winced at the two sarcastic voices speaking at once. He had forgotten he was unintentionally eavesdropping.

As a clue, he and Cabir both looked towards the girls while they did the same.

The hair flew in the air at the sharp turn of the girl's head but he didn't care. His eyes immediately found the one hidden from his sight.

The first thought was she looked cute even with the frown on her. 

The second thought was she was glaring at Cabir which he thought was deserved for scaring him.

And the third thought was spoken before he could stop himself, "What have you done to your hair?"

Maybe Cabir was right and he was obsessed with hair.

Cabir was going to kill him when they got back home. 

If they got back home, he corrected himself seeing how the cute one was now glaring at him.

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