Happy and jolly New Year 2018

Tinkling bells,

the time to fulfil vows,

as we look back at unfulfilled promises,

worry not,

for delicacies and yummy food,

alcohol flowing,

will wipe off worries,

drenched to liquor,

hitting an emotional pang,

new vows for the season,

excitment, thrill and hope,

turn the page,

we shall,

but also past laurels and not just worries,

wink at the light,

loosen up,

the stage is no batte ground,

just fill the blank pages,

no compulsion,

laze around,

dance wildly,

remove the fear,

perhaps the only resolution,

unfetter yourself,

stop making the heavy promises,

as the clock struck midnight,

just be,

happy and jolly,

Happy New Year 2018



Spotting an ex: How to stay cool and ease out!

Running for cover to hide behind dense foliage as if the enemy camp has burst your bubble in real time war zone. Relax! You've just spotted your ex in a party or friends' reunion post the break-up period. Awkwardness can and will creep in. Wrack your brains. Woah!

Image credit: Google.

First thing first, there is no choice left and you cannot possibly flee the spot as if you are the Kohinoor thief. Breathe in and out. Just say a formal hello and flit through the group, asking her well-being and move to other people. Don't give the impression that he or she is making you awkward. It's fine. People get into relationships and break up. As it is, you were not planning to spend the entire existence with them. Just loosen up and enjoy your drink.

Secondly, take a friend into confidence. Such an emergency situation calls for a friend and screw up all ego trip, just tell them there is a certain awkwardness and no lame joke on both of you for onlookers will be watching. Who knows? This friend may just wrestle you to the bar to enjoy drinks introduce you to singles-in case you are interested, and dancing madly to distract your focus from the past man or women.  You can hit on hot singles at the bar. The close buddies are often the saving grace to make this thing call awkwardness disappear.

Thirdly, don't drink too much. Alcohol can work wonders on the mind like fuse where you may end up as a fool in front of the ex by indulging in silly antics or raking up old demons. Remember the ex is now Uncle Sam or Agony aunt who is watching to take sadistic pleasure in making you an asshole in front of people. Mind you, if it's a terrible break up, he or she would never miss an opportunity to get even with you by spreading news that a sloshed ex turned lover again turned fool wanna wear her stilettos.

Fourth, don't try to be over-friendly. Old flames are like the raging fire in the forest. It doesn't take time to ignite a spark. Be civil and charming. Don't try to be overfriendly with each other for it's such a horrible idea to have a fling with an ex or getting back since such things doesn't really work post that stage. Just ask about each other and move to greener pasture.

Finally, let your hair down and dance as if there is no tomorrow. You are not making a point to anyone and certainly not to the ex but treating yourself with booze and dance for don't they say, 'Dance till you drop'. Dancing is therapeutic and helps to flush out any emotional pang, anger, anxiety or strange feeling at his or her sight. That way, the ex-lover will see that you are neither missing them nor holding to ill feelings.



Tiny shred and lost individuality

Black eye lid,

 Worn out and tired,

 vagaries of life,

unsung defeat,

struggle to keep everything going,  

success is rare,

pain is real,  

white streak of hair,

i call it grey,

naysayers say get married and conform,

for no time is left,

how do I explain?

the biggest lie,

i abhor,


Aren't all of us living an illusion?

Get married,



have kids,

die slowly every second,

compromise is what make them and us good boys and girls,

labels and compromise,

the soul is not bare it all,

no false claims,

on growing thick skinned,

 human flesh and emotions,

i trip,

 nursing my wounds,

slowly, I get up,

to retrieve tiny shreds,

my lost individuality,


Frozen romance

Cuddling inside icy cold chocolate room, 

a spray of rain,

wet hair braid,

he caressed her tresses,

mouths pressed on the jet black streak,

warm coffee,

fingers interlocked together,

legs pressed,

eyes squirting on dim light, 

lips cupped together,

frozen skins,

hot sensation,

chill spurting down the spine,

cracking intimacy,

blowing one’s imagination,

control is a myth,

breaking loose gives an adrenaline rush, 

vagabond love,

Flowing like the ecstatic drug.


Finding love after marriage

Marriage is a serious business about commitment, companionship, spicing up the sex life and equality transcending the traditional patriarchal norms or status quo imposed by a traditional society.  Love is often part of the knot tied like hair plait but is often at odds with marriage.

There was a time when the young generation would openly rebel against arranged marriage since it was imposed by parents and was about two families entering into a union of sort. How can we be part of a business plan or the classic argument, you don't just marry a person but a family? I have a serious issue with the latter point since marriage, love or relationships are about two souls coalescing together.

Image credit: Google

 The entire complexity of arranged marriage has slowly changed with social media, popular websites to the tune of shaadi.com or finding someone on social media sites like Facebook. There are no dearth of successful marriage online, or others that crumble. But, doesn't it hold true for love marriage as well? The bigger question is, can we find love after marriage?

 First, love can be cultivated between two human souls getting to know each other after entering the sacred bond. There is a sense of togetherness, shared happiness and discovering the person in a better way. Who knows you may just find your soulmate in an arranged set up with loads of similarities as you get to know each other! The first trait for a couple to converge is respect and the way you treat each other. After all, we are humans born out of love which is groomed and blossom with time.

 Secondly, compromise in a relationship is not love. Nor marriage is an institution to satiate ego or control. The C for Compromise is the wrong start that beefs up the wrongs of ego and control, meaning the death knell of a relationship. Starting the relationship with an open mind, removing all prejudices that may crop up will go a long way to help you nurture a super successful association.

 Thirdly, an arranged marriage involves parents but at the same time, it is important for the couple to draw a line to ensure that there is no third party interference in their relationship. There are many households where parents of both the bride and groom keep popping up. Therefore, open up conversations with parents through dialogue to make them understand that you value your personal space and thoughts as grown-up adults. One of the best ways for such a partnership to work is to spend and give time to each other's parents, understand them, press on them to share childhood anecdotes of your spouse and often play Santa by showering gifts, visit, companionship or whipping their favorite dinner. That way, the parents will understand and help you in times of crisis but also go a long way to cement bond with in-laws.

 Fourthly, breaking the ice is a must once you are married for I have seen couples withdrawing in a shell over the unhappiness of getting into an arranged marriage. Give your partner the time to open up, respect his or her space but at the same time be encouraging of their passion or interests pursued. Take it slow when it comes to sex which is an important facet of a successful marriage but at the same time do not hesitate to ask about their ex-flames without being judgmental. Treat it like a date and turn into a love marriage by being open about everything while getting to know each other.

Lastly, every marriage be it arranged or love, have the fair share of highs and lows. Not all arranged marriages may turn out to be a heavenly match like Band Baaja Baraat. There are lots of hard work and investment that a couple has to work on. The rule is simple: You don't believe in something, don't get into it. I am no advocate of arranged marriage nor I am hitched but sharing my thoughts on a trend which is catching up with the young generation. Though I prefer love marriage, there is no denying that our emotions resemble flowers that bloom.

With Love



Satire: Happy hour and Asanskari condom ads at 10 pm

Titillating pleasure, mental masturbation and emotional ejaculation are shaking the pure minds smeared with Desi Patanjali ghee. How do we forget some people don’t have sex at all but count every condom thrown in university campus! The pleasure seekers crave for crocodile peacock tears to give them an orgasmic pleasure.

There are certain things in life that gives such a sadistic high that it was decided to give us happy hour, deemed better than sex. Aila! I never knew that post 10 p.m is the time baby to watch condom ads since it’s unsanskari to do so during prime time. After all, who needs sex when Arnab Goswami starts shouting in our ears?  I repeat post 10 pm is the new happy hour since Sarkar thought ki we should not rendered useless at the not-so-late night show time. Mitron! I neither lust after Sunny Leone’s Manforce condom ad nor does the sight of Durex sends me into parlok yatra.

Tauba! Tauba! Naughty naughty ads post 10 o’clock...will make the likes of Baba Ramdev melt as my silly mind tells a new Patanjali condom flavour will soon hit the market. Happy hour is now at 10 p.m to prevent people from indulging in the chromo zone of having sex. Bhakts have already won the Kurukshetra battle. See, sex is asanskari. What will now happen to the Pravachan on astha channel? Kurkure khao aur mast ho jao, mitron. 

No indecent condom ads between 6 p.m to 10 p.m Kyon ki Condom bhi kabhi titillation thi to save our Indian culture. Fuck education and awareness. Ban Nike shoes coz Just Do It is no longer hot and happening. Ab Dada aur Dadi-ji will have no TV to watch. We will miss our original Sanskari Babu Alok Nath on TV. Itna mazaa kyon aa raha hai at 10 p.m. Kamasutra is lost. Once upon a time there was a Kohinoor called Condom. Issko lagadala toh life no jingalala. 

Mourn the death of condom for we are sure it will disappear from the shelves of chemist and welcome to asli vikas.  We don’t lack incentives now for making our own brand of condom at home to develop self-sufficiency. Bapu must be so proud. Now, link your Aadhar card to every condom that you buy or make at home...ache din happening during late night show on the Indian idiot box. 

It’s the breaking news of the year for STD diseases and unwanted pregnancy has just been wiped off the planet courtesy Smriti-ji. Hey! It’s no jhumla sarkar but genius Sarkar. Condom ads ka Balidaan TV pe will go down in history. Sex is dirty and immoral na. See, it’s not Munni badnam but Condom badnaam darling tere liye. Mourn the death of our condom ads on prime time kya pata kal ho na ho. Stop whining! After all, what are your hands for if not to get them soiled and wet? Be Sanskari. 

Politically and morally incorrect




You can and must win this fight



a beautiful soul!




how much she suffered in life!


I sit and watch her fight against the unknown,

the world came first,  not her,

she has always put herself second,

her joy, happiness, and individuality,

it never mattered to her,

perhaps the biggest battle of her life,

she has no choice,

I can never imagine,

to see this tall and cheerful and forever smiling lady,

in such a state,


we believe in you,

you never stopped believing in me and your children, 

filled with love,

a battle that we must all win,

you are my bua, my aunt,

but, always a mother,

you must get up,

i don't know anything,

just triumph like you always did,

fight the demons,

stand on your feet,

it's a belief,

you have to win,

come on,

it's the last battle,

you can win,

i know you will,

unlimited faith we have in you,



Flash fiction: Second chance at love

The crack showed on Mrinalini’s face and dark spot peeped below her eyelid. She hid her angst and pain accumulated over the years of her married life and missed her daughter settled in the United States. She struggled to hold on to the huge grocery bundled into two huge carry bags as she waded under the sweltering heat at DLF Mall at Saket in New Delhi.

Images of her husband she loving called Seth Ji kept playing at the back mind in the distant past when as a young bride, Mrinalini suffered violence whenever he was drunk. One fine day, Seth Ji collapsed in front of her eyes and Mrinali yelled in pain as she took him to Fortis. On his deathbed, he sought forgiveness from her on how he crushed her identity. As Mrinalini and Seth Ji aged, they found company and discovered each other seeing life flitting peacefully. It was a compromise.

The huge stack of bags collapsed which brought her back to reality and the grocery were scattered on the road as two huge hands rushed to her, helped in picking up the stuff. He bobbed his eyes towards her and stammered, ‘M-r-i-n-a-l-i-n-i.’ She went weak on her knee on seeing him. “Rajeev,” she faintly muttered.

It was the same place they met 25 years ago. She was a young student from Pune who made a trip to meet her friends when their eyes met for the first time. Rajeev was a carefree rebel. It was love at first sight. Rajeev was weak for he couldn’t stand up to his parents who turned Mrinalini down due to caste differences. He prodded her for a coffee date at Barista where the young romantic lovers storm to steal priceless moments. They felt out of place there. Rajeev made a stupid joke. Mrinali smiled shyly.

She said, “You haven’t changed at all...same joke. How is your wife and children?”
He turned his face away and couldn’t face Mrinalini, “We have no children. Asha left me. She was right. I was weak as a person and couldn’t stand up for her in front of my parents expecting her to fulfill the daughter-in-law obligation of morning tea and working tirelessly not for us but them. I couldn’t realize that a woman has her own identity.”

She nodded. “You couldn’t stand up for me.”

Cupid struck again. They kept meeting at the same place, reminiscing on the places they dated and the long walks to the railway station. Rajeev knew everything about Mrinalini, her husband, and daughter settled in the states. Both of them were battling loneliness.

He hugged Mrinalini and kissed her lip. She was horrified at first. “How dare you kiss me? It’s not our age to do so.”

Rajeev maintained a calm composure, “Will you be my valentine, Mrinalini?”

She was shocked, “At this age, Rajeev. We are 50. What will society and my daughter think?”

The wrinkled hands pressed on each other. “Why should we be so worried about society, Mrinalini? Destiny has played a game in uniting us. You have lost your identity first by compromising with your husband, daughter and playing nanny to your grandchild. It’s time to think about yourself. Fine! I’ve been a terrible boyfriend and a weak man who couldn’t stand for my love. But, not now. We cannot replace the lost time but we can make a fresh beginning, not as a compromise to our old age... Live for love with gay abandon.”

Mrinali got up from the chair on the crowded cafe and hugged Rajiv tightly, kissing him passionately. Stream of tears felled down from their eyes. It shall be about them, exploring and discovering each other not for companionship but exploring each other’s soul.



Daddy's little girl (3): The end

Ankita was restless. She felt a stroke of wind brushing past  her curly tresses and kissing her face which became icy cold. Aniket sensed her impatience and a drop of tear fell on his palm. He pressed his hand with the tear on Ankita's forehead. "Ready," he suppresed his emotion. "One, two, three," he pulled off the blindfold and silently moved backward to disppear behind the cupboard.

A tall shadow stood straight. Ankita bobbed her eyes towards the man standing in front of her. She was bewildered and couldn't believe what she was seeing. Raju stood tall. She thought that it was a dream or an illusion. She rushed to him and touched his flesh. Her voice choked with emotions, "I can't believe it. You are alive. Where have you gone?" she clutched to him.

Raju stood like a statue and tears trickled down his face. She was shaking like tree branches in the middle of the storm. He held her hand and made her sit on the bed,"I tried calling your number but it was switched off. Ankee! I looked for you everywhere but you disappeared. On that terror day, I reached the station late and missed the train. Call it what you may but it's destiny that I am standing  in front of you."

Ankita felt dizzy and speechless. She gulped  a glass of water to gain composure. "But, the picture in the newspaper?" Raju voice's choked. "It was a mistake. I was sitting on the bench at Churchgate. The photographers clicked me but I never knew that they would goof up. For the world I was dead but my soul perished the day I lost you."

Aniket popped right in front of them. He caressed Ankita's face," Raju is my best friend. I knew that he was the one who took away your heart. How can I marry you Ankita? You are the most beautiful girl and I was in love with you but he is the one, princess."

Aniket put his finger on Ankita's lip, "Don't say anything. Today is your engagement but not with me but Raju. Don't worry about our families. They know everything. I have another surprise. Your Dad is here."

A man in his 50s walked inside the room and hugged Ankita. "You are Daddy's little girl. I have come back today to hand my precious jewel in the hand of Raju. Beta, take care of her for you deserve her more than me or Aniket. I have left her but have now realized the power of love."

Ankita Dad and Aniket serenaded Ankita as they waded in the decorated hall decked with colorful saris, and tended her hand into Raju. "It's our amanat," both of them told Raju as the hands of the lovers pressed tightly on each other. Finally, Ankita and Raju were engaged. They were unfazed in front of the guests as the bottle of wine uncorked and dancing  to Kala chasma. Lips dripped into each other and mouths inspecting lines as love was tasted like nectar.

Love is a belief...not a compromise but flowers blooming to concoct a spring of joy and happiness.

The end.



Daddy's little girl (2)

The sun-dappled day gleamed inside the room. Ankita woke up with a terrible headache. Raju sat on the bed, steering the tea in a porcelain cup and gently put it on her lap. She gulped the tea. He watched her with admiration and a large smile appeared on his face.

"You are not going to ask how you woke up in my bedroom?" Raju quizzed her. She scornfully said, "Of course, I was inebriated." "Thank you," she nodded. "By the way, you know who I am right!"

He picked up the newspaper and glossy magazine where her pictures were all over, posing in front of the newly launched luxury Sedan car. "Supermodel," Raju winked. Ankita smiled shyly. They made love in the morning, voraciously tearing into each other's clothes, smooching passionately and biting into the flesh. Ankita moved into Raju's apartment overlooking the Arabian Sea.

The lovers were inseperable like flowers blooming inside the bud until one day when Ankita had to leave the city for the launch of a new product. She tried calling Raju's phone number but the network was jammed. He was travelling when a blast rocked the city and trains from Churchgate to Andheri exploded. The air tickets were booked. Ankita was unware of the terror attack and boarded the flight. She felt a frantic heart beat and her instinct was not wrong. "Has he left me for someone better? No! It can never happen." A fear engulfed her and she became restless during the flight from Mumbai to Delhi, unaware of the terrorist attack. 

 Days later she came to know about the terror attack but was unaware that Raju was traveling in the local train that became the prey of bombs. On that fateful morning, Raju sneaked out of the bed after they made love and had the most amazing sex. He didn't want to disturb her for he knew that his lady love was having a hectic schedule, with shoots and product launch. Raju was late and dashed his way to the station but missed the train by a whisker. 

Days later, Ankita was preparing herself for the show when one of the models showed her the picture of Raju that was published on the front page of Times of India as one of the victims. She collapsed on the floor. Ankita shed tears for days and night, losing her soul but also a very precious part of her identity that was brutally taken away from her. It took her days to get out of the bed but deep down, the bruised soul was convinced she could never be the same. Ankita threw away her phone. She underwent depression and switched cities.

Ankita couldn't accept this reality and shunted people from her life, abandoning her career as a model. There was not a day when Raju didn't haunt her in the sleep. She would often jostle out of the bed in the middle of nights. She couldn't forget him after three years, the chiselled face and squealed on the bed.
Five years has elapsed. Ankita resisted everyone who convinced her to move on with her life but it felt that she was waging a lone battle. She often cracked and lost herself. Finally, she buckled down under presssure to tie the knot with her school friend. It was the day of her engagment. Ankita was decked in  a red kanjeevaram sari and adorned with expensive jewellery when Aniket gracefully dressed in a orange colorful Kurta-Pyjama, walked with relatives and friends to exchange rings. It was also the roko ceremony. Aniket insisted to introduce Ankita to his childhood friend. He blindfolded her with a pink band to usher her inside the room.

The calm and suave fiance gently whispered inside Ankita eyes, "Stop being restless. Count for one minute. You know him." Ankita was taken aback and counted the minutes in her mind but at the same time, her past life kept popping. 


Tints, hues and garish texture

Tints and hues,

colorful brush on canvas,

expression of myriad emotions,

tainted shade,

garish texture,

celebrating the festival of human spirit,

kindred and spirited souls,

Love is fallacy,

passionate desire,

red is madness and lust,

white is pure,

unblemished by heartbreak,

freedom from the flesh,

peppered love,

spicy thrill and sensual adventure,

a modicum of sentiments,

pain and triumph 

love lost,

just another name for ecstasy running wild,

tasting like wine swirling on the tongue,

seeking pleasure in wounds and bruise.


Happily Ever Afters is Rogue Love and fake relationships

The problem with singletons like me and hopeless romantics is that we believe (d) too much in the happily-ever-afters, shuddh or pure love smeared with ghee and the fairy-tale love stories found in books or holy scriptures. Love has become obstinately religious.

We are hung too much in painting the overtly perfect image of the lover boy-cum-eligible bachelor-cum flawless prince riding on the horse or the perfectly sculpted woman of our dreams, hotness or sexy quotient, superbly intelligent beings filled with a sympathetic or understanding heart.  The world of perfect man or women reinforces this flawed belief of Being The One. High time to demystify this fucked up crap, 'They lived happily ever after'.

The mass media, be it novels belonging to another era and good old romantic films reinforced by society is taking away our human side, emotional intelligence, and individualism. This whole bullshit about ideal love or perfect person makes us so fake where we muzzle our own voice or emotions, be it anger, crying, fearing heartbreak which not only blocks our growth but pushed us to compromise or hurting ourselves. In short, we have become people pleaser in the name of love ripping apart the genuine human traits. Be real has gone for a toss.

Image credit: Google

We are not allowed to lust for someone, feel sexually desirable and we censor our deep emotions for the fear of being judged. It is similar to the open-and-shut world of marriage and locked in marital bond. Happily after ever is another way telling a widow or spinster and a divorcee has no right to fall in love again. The perfectly romantic notion of prince charming or woman of our dreams belongs to a regressive mindset and enforced by the patriarchal society stomping on our right to love, lust and think of a second or third person. Another way to repress our sexual desires and reinforcing this traditional mindset permeating through a society which has seemingly lost the way on how to evolve and enrich itself. 

The whole issue makes for an interesting debate where perhaps the intelligentsia in our society, business leaders, filmmakers, writers, artists and even politicians should come together to question the established romantic rules. The debate will make sense only if all of us chuck for a second our marital status, religion, caste or values to be this unique individual filled with emotions and perspective giving wings to pursue its taste for life or human desires. Just be yourself for a while and offer an honest perspective on happily ever after or the ideal person kinda theory. Isn't it time for all of us to debate, discuss and question, 'Darwin's theory of evolution?' Forgot who we are, whom we ever loved or married and for that matter chuck our social status or educational achievements. Just remove the label. I am sure we will have so much to say about this flawed Happily Ever After or The One.

We have been taught that being selfish is wrong and be selfless in our quest to grow as model people.  But, I ask, being selfless at what cost? Does it augur well for our own spiritual, mental and physical well-being? The truth is that we have stopped being ourselves and creating mental shackles within which is preventing us to love as entire human entities. We have put barriers that lusting for someone is immoral and taking away from ourselves the most natural feeling residing inside us. In the entire process, humans have massacred their own souls for decade and ruthlessly taking away our own individuality.

No wonder, this whole idea of The One or perfect love is the biggest fallacy that has continued unabated for decades. As a society or humans with emotions, we have been wearing blinkers and swayed by concepts which are becoming increasingly irrelevant to our sanity. It’s rogue love with conditions attached. We have no one but ourselves to blame for making love or relationships so unreal in the company of humans becoming fake much like our relationships.


A battered warrior

Sleepy afternoon,

nursing the wound,

unplanned battle,

riding high in the enemy camp,

bruised and battered warrior,

conquering life,


defeat knocking me down,

unexpected victories,

souls defining me,

vivid images flashing,

harking to the distant past,

it feels like a caged dream,

friends who equipped and accompanied me in the journey,

memory is the swallowing pill,

waking me up and

jostling the body into action.

unrequited love,

time to move on,

experiment a new chapter,

call what you may,

love or adventure,

thousand heartbeats,

dreams are never shy,  

soaring in the sky,

to rejuvenate the mind.




Thousand heart beats

Sleepy afternoon,

nursing the wounds,

unplanned battles,

battered warrior,

riding high in the enemy’s camp.

conquering life,



unexpected victories,

gentle souls defining me,

vivid images flashing,

harking to the distant past,

a caged dream,

friends who accompanied me on the journey,

popping memory’s pill,

waking me up and

jostling the feckless body into action.

unrequited sentiment,

time to move on,

experiment with a new chapter,

call it what you may,

love or adventure,

a thousand heartbeats,

dreams never stop,

it soars in the sky,

to rejuvenate the mind.



Love Shot: Daddy's little girl in red stilleto

The red stilettos almost tripped on the wooden plank inside the bar and the round body pressed on the bar. She perched towards the barman and the voice slurred, “I need a whisky...a large shot...anything will do.” She swerved left, right and almost stumbled on the stool almost pushing the occupant off his perch.

The whisky spilled on the white shirt tucked inside the blue Levis Denim which shook off Raju. She turned around and jerked her body towards him, “May be you don’t know. Listen! I don’t need to tell you. I am Ankita,” she giggled. “I am not hitting on you okay and will slap you if you ever take advantage of kissing me.

Raju stood and held her hand, gently pushing her body to slouch on the stool. “You didn’t take permission to touch me but thank you for making me sit. I am not drunk just sloshed.”
He smiled: “Ankita! Easy babe! You are drunk like a fish. No! I cannot let you have another shot.”
She protested and her body twisted, “Who are you to tell me not to drink? My illegitimate Dad! No! I just want a last one...please. By the way what the fuck you told me? Drinking like a fish. You want me to jump into the Arabian Sea. No listen to me.”

Raju was amused: “I promise to buy you a drink tomorrow. Where are you putting in Mumbai?”
“It’s a question with a big Interrogation mark. I wanna party for the whole night. Take me to some happening pub man. It’s dark everywhere. Take me to Andheri,” she frolicked.

Ankita’s lifted her middle finger which flittered upward towards the tiny bulb coated on the wooden roof and shouted, “I want this bulb...it’s the star in the sky I am my Daddy’s lil girl...everything is for me.” Raju tried to hold her from falling off the chair. She raised her palm in protest, “No! Nah! Nah! Don’t hold me. It will give people wrong impression that I am tripping drunk.”
“It’s okay! I am not your boyfriend,” he reassured.

“But, why?” she yelled.

“Just one peg. You are such a ruthless man and a murderer. A woman, a human is thirsty! I am not asking to smooch you,” she blurted out.

Ankita fell asleep on Raju’s shoulder. He lifted her on his shoulder and carried her inside his humble Maruti 800 car.

The car disappeared in the distance, far away from the arch light and Paparazzi. Raju skirted in the dark night and waded past the lights in the city, intelligently averting the scandal of a film actress caught red-handed drunk and travelling with a stranger. 

To be continued

With Love