3 Idiots

Adarniya sabhapati mahodaya, atithi vishesh shikshan mantri shri R D tripati ji, maanyaniya shikshagan aur mere piyaaare sahpatiyo

Aaj agar I.C.E aasmaan ki bulaaandiyo ko chhu raahaa hai to uska shreya sirrf ekinsaan ko jaataahai - Shri Veeru Sahastrabuddhe

Give him a big hand. He is a great guy really.

Peechle buttis saal se inhone nirantar is college mein balatkar pe balatkar kiye. Umeed hai aagey bee karte rahege. Hamein to aashcharya hota hai ki ek insaan apne jeevan kaal mein itni balatkar kaisi kar sakta hai. Inhone kadi tapaasya se apne aapko is kaabil bunaya hai. Waqt ka sahi upyog ghante ka purna istemaal koi inse seeke. Seeke inse seeke. Aaj hum sab chaatra yaha hai, kal desh videsh mein fail jayenge. Waadaa hai aapse jis desh mein honge waha balatkar karenge, I.C.E ka naam roshan karenge. Dika denge sabko jo balatkar Karne ki kshamtaa yaha ke chaatro mein hai wo sansaar ke kisi chaatro mein nahiii. No other chaatra. No other chaatra.

Adarniya mantraji! Namashkar aapne is sansthaan ko wo chees di jiski hamein sakht zaroorat thi. “Sstunn”! Stunn hota sabi ke paas hai. Sab chupa ke rakte hai, detaa koi nai. Aapne apna stun is balatkari purush ke haat mein diya hai, ab dekiye yeh kaisa iska upyog karta hai

Utthamum dadhdadaath paadam - Madhyam paadam thuchuk chuk - Ghanisthah thud thudi paadam - Surr surri praan gatakam.

The Diary of Dreams

May 20th:

She stared at the empty page in front of her. She reclined into a more comfortable position on her bed and stared at the diary again. It was early morning and she could see the faint rays of the sun beginning to seep in through the curtained windows. She tried to recall the dream she had last night, but couldn't seem to recall any. Did she then not dream at all? She flipped the pages of her diary. She had maintained a dream diary ever since she could remember and yet she had nothing to write in it today. All of her last posts spoke of him.

Anamika had met him in her second year at Law school. One rowdy hooligan he was, always hanging by at the bus stop with his usual gang of cronies. He had an air of some gang leader about him. But one fine day he had decided to come and talk to her. May be he wasn't a bad person after all. Slowly feelings changed and she found herself falling for him. Was this what was called "made for each other"?

But shit happened. They got separated due to her work reasons. She was really upset about it and blamed herself for it, but he made her see reason. The first few months were unbearable but she got used to it. She would actually wait the whole day just so that she could hear his voice or one message from him would set her alive. But an LDR is not called bad for any reason. The frequency of him calling/messaging decreased slowly over time. He used to come to meet her once a month but later even that became a rarity. She knew that no amount of time and distance could shake her feelings for him but did he feel the same? For almost two years they hadn't met at all. Things were different now.

She looked at her hand. The diamond set in her ring was glinting in the early morning light. She was engaged now. She hoped he had acted sooner. It would have saved her a lot of pain. But she was happy now. Her fiance was still asleep. She closed the diary with a sigh. The Diary of Dreams.

She got up and quietly went towards the kitchen. Breakfast in Bed seemed a good thing.

The Memoirs of a Relatioship

May 19th:

He stared down at the blank page open in his diary. He scratched his head with his pen and then took the diary up in his hands. A small smile played on his lips. He slowly crossed over from the desk and flopped down on the bed, switching on the bed side lamp as he went. Today he would rather read the diary rather than write in it. He started flipping through the pages and came to stop at a random page. A single torn page was carefully folded in here. He took out the torn page, now yellowed with time and carefully opened it. A drop of tear momentarily appeared at the corner of his eyes before falling down on his lap. The page was a torn fragment from another diary, her diary.
Shobhit had met her when he was in his third year in Dental college. A cute little doll she was then, always so meek and eyes that spoke so much. He liked her from the moment he laid eyes on her. He used to hang out after college just to get a glimpse of her. Soon bravery found him and he mustered enough courage to go and talk to her. Time passed and friendship turned into a relationship. They seemed so "made for each other". He was in love.
Eventually he landed a job in Bangalore and had to go away. Promises were made and tears were shed. The first year went smooth. They used to talk and text a lot. He would even take out time to visit her once a month. Slowly even that died out. He had learnt to bear the pain and so did she too he hoped. Now it had been 2 years that they had met. He had decided that it was about that he made his final decision. He would pay her one last visit. This was one month ago.
Shaking himself out of the flash back he had gone into, he re-read the page again. She was a dreamer, that one. A couple kissing at the Eiffel Tower. He recalled that she also liked roaming around a lot. Her dream was a world tour. Dreamer indeed. He stole a look at the now sleeping figure of his wife-to-be. Smiling down at the page now, he wiped away the second drop of tear. He was happy to have taken that decision a month back. He carefully placed the torn page at the last entry in the diary. May 19th:, he looked at the blank page again. The he slowly closed the diary and momentarily held it in his hands. The Memoirs of a Relationship.
Putting it aside he switched off the bed lamp, kissed the now fast asleep form next to him and went to sleep.