At Last

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You wake up, go to the bathroom and look at the mirror.

 

 

After a long and a tiring night, Holly wakes up and goes to the bathroom. With her eyes barely open, she fidgeted for a while for the light switch while she looked at the mirror. 

 

The memories of previous day come flooding to her mind. It was a super exhaustive day. So much done. So much to do. So much running around. So many thoughts and emotions on her mind. Nervousness. Elation. Anxiety. Enthrallment. Confusion. Happiness. Torment. Enthusiasm. Longing. Impatience. Fear. Hope. Worry. Hysteria. She had always been a bundle of nerves. But this day was different. It was the day she had been waiting for since time immemorial. It was her day. Her time under the sun. She was her happiest. Ever! It was everything that she had dreamed of. It was perfect. Too good to be true. It was the stuff that dreams were made of. She was happy. Very happy.

 

Everyone told her she looked beautiful. And Holly knew it was true. She was such a beauty after all! She was perfect in every way. The men loved her. She was every man's dream come true. And every woman's nightmare. The women hated her. She was way too perfect for them. She was smart, intelligent, beautiful. She was everything they were not. 

 

Holly felt good about herself. She was happy. She was day dreaming. Right in front of the mirror. Smiling and giggling to herself. She broke into tears. She thanked God for everything. He had given her everything she ever wanted. He had blessed her. He was always there for her. When everything around her seemed to give away, her God strengthened her. Her faith led her like a small lamp in a dark forest. God didn't show her everything at once, but He gave enough light for the next step to be safe. She trusted her God with her life. She relied on Him for all her important decisions in life. And this was the biggest of them all. She broke into a smile. She was happy. Very happy.

 

Holly was laughing, talking, smiling all by herself. She didn't realize how long this monologue was going on. She loved monologues. It gave her time to think. To be thankful. To be grateful. To mourn. To celebrate. It gave her time for everything. That is just when the morning alarm rang in the bedroom and zapped her back to reality. Holly ran to the bedroom and turned off the alarm. She gave a peck to Gerry and glanced at him as he lay comfortably on their bed. All snuggled up. She felt jealous. Keeping aside her jealously she rushed back to the kitchen to make breakfast. It was their first breakfast together after the wedding. And she wanted it to be special. She loved her Gerry. But her Gerry loved her more. Thanking God for her Gerry, she boiled a kettle of water for the coffee. Everything was perfect. The wedding. The first dance. The gown. He. Everything. He was the perfect one for her. He was her everything. Everything. She was happy. Very happy.

 

Holly couldn't thank her God enough. No, never!

This post was a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers 

by BlogAdda and it was featured as the best entry. Here is the link: WOW Winners.

This post is also a dedication to all the girls who grew up on happily ever afters, 

to all those who believe in the magic of love and marriage, like me!

Two Weeks Notice

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You go home and check your Emails. You read the second mail and freeze.

 

  

After a hard day's work, Zoey opened her lappy to unwind before she could finally try to get some much needed sleep that was eluding her since that fateful day. She thought of login into Facebook to kill time, but the thought of those million questions from a million friends (?) strangers precisely, put her off. What actually happened? Are you okay? Are you alright? How are you coping? These questionnaires from people who cared a damn was the last thing she wanted on a day as tiring as this one. Thinking of which she sighed. Haven't all days been tiring since that fateful day? Everything had changed. Everything! 

 

She tried not to think about it. And opened her mailbox. Hoping some crappy funny forward would make her laugh or at least smile. The first mail was as she expected - a reminder - that the school fees was due. She read it and then marked it as 'unread' quickly before proceeding to the next mail. The second mail. She read the subject line and then fearing the worst she clicked on it and read the rest of the mail. She froze. In the middle of May, the hot summer of Bombay - she froze. That is what fear does to you. And panic. And worry. And anxiety.

 

It was a mail from the bank that Kevin and she had loaned from almost two years ago. The loan term was up long back, and they hadn't paid up yet. How could she have forgotten? Ah! After all that happened to her over the last couple of weeks, she had every right to forget. And to be forgiven, right? Only if the bank would be as kind. As understanding. As forgetful. As forgiving. If only. Only if. Well, this wasn't the time for self pity. It was the time to act. And quick. Or the bank would throw her out of her house. Her home. Her sanctuary. Her nest. Her dwelling place. Her heaven on earth. They'd kick her out, if need be. No pleading would help. No crying. No nothing. Only crisp currency notes. Nothing else. Nothing less. Nothing more. She lived in a cruel and an unkind world, remember?  Forgive us our debts and sins as we forgive our debtors happens only in the Lord's prayer. Not in reality. Not in Zoey's world. A world that forgives and forgets NO debts and NO debtors. The bank had given her two weeks notice. Two weeks? That's it? Sure faith can move mountains and all. But this was different. A home was involved. A loan. A bank. And huge currency notes.

 

She didn't know what to do. What could she do? Could she ask her parents? NO! That was a bad idea. She had troubled them enough already. They didn't need to hear this! It was her problem, right? Not theirs! Only if. If only! If only Kevin was still here with her, he would find a solution. He would find a way. He would calm her down. If nothing, he would make her laugh - yes, he had an uncanny way of cracking her up even in the most tense situations. He was her anchor. He was the only Mary Jane she ever needed! He was her everything. She had the same effect on him too. If only. Only if. But everything had changed. Everything!

 

She needed some sleep. That was what she did whenever she was too worried. Sleep was her drug. It took her mind off the worry. It bought her time. But sleep's been eluding her since that fateful day. She threw a glance at Kathy and Ruth. They were sleeping blissfully like angels serene and calm, blissfully oblivious to the emotions that were draining their poor single mom. Single mom? No - she wasn't single. She said to herself. Kevin is here. Kev is dead, Zoe! No - he isn't! He is just sleeping! Oh yeah? Who was in the casket then? Voices. She was now hearing voices. Then she saw the images. Images of Kevin being carried to the ICU on a stretcher. The doctors calming her down and asking her not to worry. Not to worry? That's my husband in there, alright? Images of the doctors pronouncing him - . She stopped! First the voices and now the images. Was she going mad? Was she mad already? Who knows? She didn't want to go any further. She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to accept the reality. She didn't want to move on. She didn't want to live. No, not like this. Everything was happening too quickly for her. Nothing made sense. Nothing! She was fed up of her life. Of herself. Of the kids. Of Kevin. She was fed up of everything!

 

She wanted to die!

 

She looked at her kids. Their kids. The serene faces calmed her for a moment. She saw Kevin in the innocent faces. Thousands of thoughts were running through her head. Just then an idea hit her. She scampered to the kitchen to find something strong and sharp. Yes, a knife. A sharp knife. A sharp knife would do the trick! And quick! That was what she was looking for, precisely. And bingo! She found one in the kitchen sink. She washed it clean, carefully. She looked at her own reflection on the sharp, sparkling knife. She wished for her Kev. She wished that he was there. She wished that he wouldn't have left her alone back here. She knew what she had to do now. The job was very easy. Nothing too tough for a lady. Had Kevin been here, she may never would have had thought of doing this. He would have given her a more practical idea. He would have found another way out of this. Like he always did. Not something as stupid and dumb and silly as this! She knew she was doing something stupid, but she didn't know what else to do. This seemed like her only way out. She had to give this a shot. She had to try it. She had to do it. And she had to do it NOW! No other way. She knew she was being very foolish. But she had no other option! There was an eerie silence. A silence that scared her. The thoughts and the voices kept haunting her. Ignoring them, she ran back to the room where the kids were sleeping. Ah! They were still sleeping! She rushed to the cupboard and opened the door without making a sound. She didn't want to wake them up. Kathy could get cranky. And that was the LAST thing she wanted tonight!

 

She emptied the cupboard almost immediately. And then she found what she was looking for. The tin money box. It was a gift from Kevin's mom on their wedding. She advised them to start saving from the beginning of their marriage. And then, she handed them this tin money box to inspire them. She laughed. You are so dumb. You think this stupid tin will have enough money to pay back the loan? You're nuts Zoe! Voices. She heard voices again. She ignored. She quickly took out the knife and pierced the box. All the loose change and some currency notes fell down. She was really nuts to think that some loose cash would settle the loan! She wanted to scream and cry. But she couldn't. She had to show the world that she was strong. She had to live it up for Kathy and Ruth. But she had given up. Almost.

 

Almost!

 

She gave a cold look at the sharp knife she still had in her shaky hand. And then. And then something extraordinary happened. A miracle. Yes, you can call it a miracle. A mutual fund certificate and a note stapled to it dropped from the box. How could she not have seen it? She had emptied the tin box, hadn't she? She wiped her tears and sat down to read the note. She froze again, her body. But her soul was warming up. It was a short note from Kevin. He told her about a mutual fund that he had invested in long back. Mutual funds? Why didn't you ever tell me about it Kev? Why? Kevin knew that Zoey would hound him for not telling her! So he explained to her in the note - Zoe, I didn't tell you about the mutual fund earlier because I was actually saving up for our second honeymoon on our tenth anniversary next year. I knew you always wanted to go to Rome. I was saving up for that. I wanted to surprise you sweetheart! But hey! If ever you come across this note and I am not around and if you need money desperately, please feel free to redeem this certificate. I have made you a nominee and all the instructions as to how to redeem it are at the back of the certificate. And cheer up! If not the honeymoon, I am sure this hard earned money can be used for something better. Maybe you can redeem it to pay off the loan. Or maybe for Kathy's and Ruth's education. Something! Anyway, I am sure that my pretty wife is pretty smart and would use this money wisely. And remember - Faith, Love and Hope, like I always told you! Love you loads Zoe. Your's, Kev. 

 

Yes - Faith, Love and Hope. Faith, Love and Hope will get you through anything and everything. Calm down! Cheer up! It isn't THAT bad, trust me! If nothing else, trust God! He's got it all figured out. Even though we haven't! Yet! Her Kev always said that. Today she had proof! Proof that faith, love and hope are still alive. Proof that faith, love and hope is all you need. Proof that miracles do happen. It happened to her.

 

She cried and cried. Loudly. She didn't care if the kids or the neighbors woke up. She cried. Nothing could stop her. Kev, why you love me so much? Why? She didn't have any words. Just incoherent sobs. Kathy and Ruth woke up. They saw their mom crying. They didn't ask why. They knew what daddy meant to mommy. They just hugged her and the three of them cried thinking about their daddy, their best friend, their Kev. It went on for a while and then when they fell asleep, they didn't realize.

 

The morning sun's glaring rays filling up the room woke up Zoey. It was like a signal - to start her life anew. She woke up the kids fed them breakfast and told them, 'Mama needs to go to the bank. Ruth, take care of Kathy. I will be back in an hour.' Saying so she put on her favorite summer dress and rushed to the bank. All ready to face the life alone. No, not alone. She had Ruth, Kathy and Kev - yes, Kevin was there. Somewhere! He hadn't gone! No, not yet! She knew him in her heart. And felt him in her soul. With the wind in her hair and the world at her feet and the bounce in her steps, she went to the bank. To reclaim their house. Their home. Their sanctuary. Their nest. Their dwelling place. Their heaven on earth. That was rightfully theirs! She threw a glance upwards and thanked her God and she thanked her Kevin. She was happy. She was alive. She was living. 

 

Faith, Love and Hope - do quite some work, good work, don't they? 

 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative 
for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

This post is also a dedication to faith, love and hope. These three we can never 
live without! But the greatest of these is love (1 Cor 13:13)

Punctured Belly

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A fat lady entered the bus,
And made a big fuss.
About how everyone was in a rush.

She had this huge belly,
As big as an LCD telly.
Which she tugged along like a jelly.

As the bus pulled up at a stop,
The lady huffed and puffed and jumped and raved.
And stomped her mighty feet onto the floor.

A tiny little girl entered soon,
With a pointed parapluie blue.
And stood near that lady close.

As the bus tramped through the narrow streets,
The fat lady lost her breeze.
And dashed against the little girl in her heels.

The little girl was mighty pissed off,
And told her, 'Hey lady! You better get off me!'
'Eh? Why? What you gonna do? You little monkey?', said she.

'You called me a monkey, did you?'
Saying this she poked the lady with her parapluie blue.
The fat lady fell flat on the floor with a snarl.

She got up to find her telly tummy gone.
That's when she realised,
The parapluie blue had punctured her belly through.

Embarrassed she got off the bus.
Lighter without her huge belly,
Which she tugged around like a jelly!

This poem is just a weird and a silly one. As weird and silly as the author herself! Nevertheless, I hope you like it. Also, a message to the dames grandes, please don't be messing with the dames petites! Who knows, they could just end up puncturing your belly! :P

P.S. This is supposed to be a funny poem. Take it that way! And yes - please don't bully anyone. Irrespective of if they are fat or thin, tall or short, fair or dark. Or whatever! Remember, cowards bully.

P.P.S. The best weight loss program, aint it?

What! Am I?

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As she walked down the street,
She heard people scream.
As she got closer,
She heard them call her names.

She dint know it was a game,
They were looking to defame.
They called her ugly, fat and dumb,
She asked herself, 'What! Am I?'

She believed their every line,
She trusted their empty lies.
She lost herself in the crowd,
She lost the hope that she had found.

As she was walking on way,
She heard those dogs bay.
She heard their muffled voices,
At first she thought it was just some weird noises.

As she walked ahead,
She heard them call her stupid and slow.
And other nasty names in a flow.
And she asked herself again, 'What! Am I?'

She then wondered, 'Am I really ugly, fat and dumb?,
Am I really stupid and slow?'
That's when she heard a voice from inside,
And that voice calmed her from within.

That voice told her the truth,
The truth she had forgotten.
That voice showed her the way,
The way she thought she had lost.

That voice gave her hope,
The hope that she thought had dimmed.
That voice gave her life,
The life that she thought had died.

That voice told her that she was precious and one of a kind.
That she was not what others said she was.
That she was the apple of someone's eye.
That she was perfect just the way she was.

That she was beautiful.
That she was pretty.
That she was funny.
That she was cute.

That she was smart.
That she was God's lovely art.
That she was sweet.
That she was neat.

That she was special.
That she was perfect.
That she was unique.
That she was really the best.

That she made a difference.
That she was cared for.
That she was wanted.
That she made the world a better place.

That she was a gem.
That she was royal.
That she was needed.
That she was one of a kind.
 
She asked herself again, 'What! Am I?'
The voice replied back, 'Yes, you are!'
She smiled and said, 'Amen!
Thanks! Thanks for letting me know!'

Many a times we have people in our life who put us down, call us names and hurt us. And sometimes, it is a friend. It hurts us. But remember that we are not what they call us. We are much better, much much better than they could ever attempt to be! I have had enough of so called 'friends' in my life. And I am grateful to them for calling me names and for telling me that I am good for nothing. For it is their harsh words that got me closer to God and showed me what I really am. And what they really are. Don't believe the lies the world tells you. You are really the best. You are one of a kind. There cannot be another YOU, EVER!

Every Experience Counts

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Happy New Year Friends! :)

New year calls for new beginnings, right? I believe the same. And so I present before you the first ever guest post on my blog. The guest writer is one of my bestest friends. She is my support system. I've drawn a lot of love and strength from her. I love her to bits. She and I have a very special and a weird relationship. She's special and I am weird! :) 

So ladies and gentlemen! Fasten your seat belts and prepare yourself to unravel the mysteries of this lady - Nieve Chica aka Snow Girl! :)

A li’l more laughs
A li’l less sighs

Let’s bloom a little
Let’s fade into the back at times

Stand up a little more
Walk that extra mile

Share and care
Bear it all and dare to live

Dream and do
Be and believe

An open heart
A more open mind

Faith in Him
And He will do the rest

Experie­nce. Every single one counts.
 
The author, apart from being one of the precious souls in my innermost circle, is a budding writer. You can read her work here: https://nievechica.jux.com/ She is super awesome and is very creative when it comes to writing and is an even better photographer. 

P.S: She has a thing for alliterations!

Unsaid Dreams

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I once dreamed.
About a beautiful life.
A life that was perfect.
Too perfect to be true.
A life with you.

I dint have much to brag about.
Riches, fame, name I had none.
But I had life.
I had hope.
I had faith.
I had love.

I needed nothing else.
No, not one.
It was faith that I had.
Faith in you.
Faith in me.
Faith in everything around me.

But that night.
That one dark and scary night.
They took it all away.
In an instant.
I cried, I yelled, I begged.
But they were too stone hearted, they were deaf!

They were heartless.
They were worthless.
They were nothing less of a beast.
They came prowling in the night like a thief.
They turned me into chaff in the wind.

They killed me that day.
They conquered my body that night.
They can't kill me anymore.
'Coz I am in a place that knows no gore.
My body they burnt, but my spirit soared.
Into the hands of God who knows it all.

They may think they'll get over this shame.
But trust me, they'll never live through this pain.
I am no more now.
All thanks to them.
But I once dreamed about many things and a few.
That one day I'd start my life anew.

This post was a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative 
for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda and it got selected among the top  
three entries for WOW. Here is the link: WOW winners.

This post is also an attempt to try and understand what that girl went through.
Her thoughts, her fears, her anger, her hopes, her hopelessness, her anxieties, 
her emotions. Nobody will ever know what she went through. Nobody.

Okay Mr. Goldilocks! Get Rid Of It!! NOW!!!

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I tried real hard not to post on this topic, because the last time I had something to say to the male species I ended up abusing them here. The hate mails and the death threats that followed thereafter were too much for me to handle. Once bitten, twice shy - no? No! Not really! I can't help but make some noise actually.

I've always wanted to understand men and their weird habits. You know. Like why do they leave wet towels on the bed. Why can't they cap the toothpaste tube. Why their socks don't stay in the shoes. Or at least near the shoes. Why do they exaggerate. Why do they obsess so much with the size, the color and the number. Why do they scratch. Especially in public. How come they remember so many things about sports like whose wearing which jersey, who kicked whom and where, who was head butted by whom and at what second of the day, who bedded whom but absolutely nothing about the conversation that took place ten minutes back. Don't get me started on birthdays and anniversaries! Why do they snore. Okay! I am taking snoring and other bodily noises off the list - it seems I do it too. I know! I didn't believe it either. Until my brother filmed a nasty audio clip of me snoring away to glory and posted it somewhere on the wild, wild web! Argh! Anyway. Getting back to men. I don't understand why do they throw such a tantrum every time someone has something constructive to say to them. Just listen to us at times, you know? We aren't obnoxious Cruella de Vils set out to ruin you and your already pathetic life! Some of us women are real good people. Some.

My mission impossible to understand men starts with the big question - what is it with men and the unkempt look? Really? What is it? 

You say it makes you look more handsome? It drives women crazy? Yeah right! It drives me crazy enough to come after you with an axe and get you to be a human minus the wild forest you're growing down under your chin, you frizzy grizzly bear!

A friend told me that he keeps it 'coz it makes him look older than he is and thus makes him wise. Really? First-of-all why in the blue world do you wanna look older than you are? We, the women folk try everything under the sun both legal and illegal to look younger. And you? What is it with you guys? I don't get it at all!

Another reason I hear quite often is the virility thingy men keep throwing at us women. More hair equals more male hormones equals more masculinity equals more kids equals more blah blah! I say enough! Enough of this crap you've been screeching on top of your baritone voices since ages! My clean shaven cubicle mate at work has fathered more kids than the bearded Osama Bin Laden could ever have imagined or even attempted. So, please! Cut the crap!

You know, there is a reason 'unkempt' is called unkempt. The dictionary defines unkempt as a person having an untidy or disheveled appearance. Now you really wanna do that to yourself? Really?

The other day, I was out with my brother. My brother belongs to the muuch nahi toh kuch nahi category and has done quite a commendable job on his mustache and beard! We ordered something to eat. And then - I was really irritated to see him feeding his beard generous amount of mayonnaise and sauce. And he was blissfully unaware until I pointed out to him that he needed some cleaning. You buy stuff and then feed it to your beard instead of your mouth and then make a complete spectacle out of yourself? That too in public? Think about it. Do you really want that to happen? Your soul mate could be out in the crowd and do you want her or him to behold you in a state of complete unawareness? No? Grab a pair of scissors and chuck that beard then!

Okay. Are you some sorta sadist who likes to torture people? Then why do you torture your partner by making him or her kiss a needle stubbled porcupine like you? Did you know most divorce cases these days are due to the unbearable pain caused by the thorny thing you call a stubble? Okay - I made that up! But why take a risk Mr. Stubble?

Anyway. Do you know? That keeping a beard only increases the risks of creepy crawlies growing on your stuff? Real women don't dig on that! Nor on the silk worms you've been growing on your goatee. Not even the catterpillar. Don't you even dare ask me about the butterfly! Now! Do you really want that? You want women to dig up a grave for you rather than they diggin on you? Think about it!

And you know what. We girls are brought up believing that guys with beards and stuff are actually uncles on the prowl preying on innocent children. Little girls and boys alike. You know. The pedophiles? Now do you want us to think of you like that? Uncle??

Honestly, we have nothing against beards - just that we prefer it on select individuals. Say Baba Ramdev for one. Rubeus Hagrid for two. Do you intend becoming the next Baba? Or Hagrid? If yes, keep the stubble on dude! Else, go find the nearest barber! NOW! We don't want our partners or dates to be mistaken for a Ramdev Baba! Or Hagrid! No! Never!

Okay. Enough said. Enough done. All I wanna say is that open your eyes. Smell the coffee! Learn from the lessons life throws at you. Legend has it that Bella chose the silky-smooth Edward over the hairy-bairy Jacob. Need I say more? Clean shaved guys win hands down! Period. It's now up to you to decide my friend!

Oh! C'mon! Don't make such a fuss! Sissy! We aren't asking you to wax and thread and bleach and screech! Just shave! Too much to ask for, eh mister?

And if all of the above hasn't convinced you to get rid of the stubble yet, then lemme remind you - we women are awesome drama queens with an additional PhD in mind games. We have many other tricks up our sleeve to make you get rid of the stubble. The silent treatment is one! Nagging is another. The annoying smirk. Taunts. Sarcasm. You scared? Already? Wait till we open our tool box! And there'll be no turning back then buddy!

This post is a part of the ‘Shave or Crave’ movement in association with BlogAdda.com, the biggest community of Indian Bloggers. The BlogAdda page is here.

This post is also me trying to understand the male species. They say we women never try to understand them, so.

P.S: There is NO way we're going out with a guy who looks like this, UNGLE!!!

P.P.S: No amount of buttering is gonna make me link you to that nasty video! And don't you dare ask my brother, okay? 

P.P.P.S: My clean shaven cubicle mate is on a long leave! Yeah! You guessed it right. He's on the family planning leave! Again!

P.P.P.P.S: Ouch! This post stung? Wait till you read this one! You'll bleed to death!

Crazy Little Thing Called _O_E : My entry for the Get Published contest

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Talking about love in these dark times? Well, there has been a story brewing in the grey cell brewery for quite some time now. Time to bring it out.

This story is an ordinary one. With extra ordinary repercussions. Like most stories. There are two protagonists (okay - not two - four), some villains and the spoilsports, the background singers, moaners and weepers. The people who do everything AS and WHEN they are told. You know. Like the background audience in sitcoms? They LOL when asked to. They ROFL when asked to. Otherwise mostly they just stay mum. We have too many of such kinds around, don't we?

When Queen and Elvis sang 'Crazy little thing called love' I guess they were damn right! Love sure does make you do crazy things. It makes you believe that you can reach for the stars and the moon. It makes you believe that there is no one else. That you've found your soul mate after all! It turns you crazy and then you begin to stalk. Stalk their every move. It starts with Facebook mainly. Whom they liked, poked, added, subtracted, befriended, unfriended, restricted, blocked, messaged, subscribed, fanned, commented, demented and finally deleted! Slowly moves on to the physical stalking via GPS. And before you know it, you're diseased by the crazy little lovebug and there's no turning back!

Okay enough! Lemme cut the background noise and get you straight to the plot. Where do I begin. Hmmm, well like all other stories - there is a girl. A simple village belle with the proverbial thick, long, dark hair which would put Disney's Goldilocks to shame. Anyway, our girl is beautiful (like me). Lets call her Nandini. So Nandini - she is the perfect young lady. Beautiful. Humble. Energetic. Free. Spirited. Well, I guess that's what the fresh air of the village does to your soul. It did wonders to hers'. She was just perfectly breath taking. Ah! I could go on. But I won't - I don't want you to fall for her. It's her story, remember? Now, to the other protagonist. Let's call him Raj. He is the typical guy you'll find in Yash Chopra's flicks. You know. A la SRK. Just that, Raj loathes SRK and is a big time Sallu fan. Ah! A hopeless fan. Tall. Wheatish. Curly hair. Typical guy. He's a hardcore techie. A city breed, he eats drinks breathes talks technology. A far cry from Nandini's type. Then the inevitable happens. The twain meet. What follows thereafter is some madness and the other two protagonist. Well, I told you in the beginning - this is an awesome foursome! What happens next? Do they make it or break it? Do they join the 'till death do us apart' brigade or do they spew a deadly potion of tirades? Do they turn friends to lovers or friends to foes? Ah! Time alone will tell! No, not time really. I will tell. Just in time! Stay tuned!

If you like my idea and wish to read more, hop on to http://www.indiblogger.in/getpublished/idea/364 and click on the 'heart' Your votes matter and count to make my idea reach the top of the list and help me publish it in print!

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.