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Smruti Bodhi

A_Biophile

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Stories

Because it Hurts…!

He:- Creatures like us… we don’t have another option. We can either be Great or miserable for someone… and here I’m desperately trying to balance both as it falls back.

She:- Hmmm… so what would you choose? Be the one or blend like the rest?

He:- I don’t know… what do you think?

She:- I think about how you feel… how do you feel?

He:- I feel… I feel hollow. I feel like a crack on a glass window, that is how people picture me coming. I feel… I feel like I can do a lot many things but I can’t… coz I don’t want to. I’m capable to do so but I don’t want to. Why do I not want to? There’s something which stops me… something which doesn’t allow me to stay happy. Why, why can’t I be like others… stable, calm like an evening sea. Why there is so much inside… a storm always on a hunt… why??

She:- Because that’s not what you are. You’re the force… which pushes the world with his energy. You’re a storm, destined to bring peace, later…. you shall not feel bad about what you are, you’re what you are, your aim is what it is!

He :- I feel lonely, you understand? I don’t want this, I never asked for this-”

She :- and yet you became that. Our thoughts shapes our actions and actions shapes our personality… are you sure you never wanted this?

He :- I… I just never thought I would feel this… it feels so… so..

She :- Real?

He :- Yes…

She :- Lol, so Alice, waiting for your wonderland or something?

He :- Shut up you! I didn’t came to you so you can mock me too. You’re the only one  who can understand me well, always been. Help me dear…

She :- Uhh, spare me from this lifeguru trouble, at least now?

He :- Nope! Tell me what to do?

She :- Kill yourself!

After some time…

He stared at her photo on the wall as he dragged the knife over his neck. A longing smile on his face was there and eyes watered with regret.
Been years she died,

still gave the best advice.

Loneliness.

HE :- “Breaking up with you because staying alone is what you like, what you prefer… freeing you at last.”


A few days later her body was found dangling from the ceiling fan in her cold apartment; words scribbled on her wall were…

“….alone not lonely!”

Why Tomboys will always remain single!

She saw him sitting in the library, couldn’t take her eyes off him. He noticed. She noticed that he noticed. Shit! No, I won’t. 
Hardly 10 seconds had passed and here were her eyes trailing his torso again. Uhhhh! He caught me again.

Dumbo dumbass dumbshit! Can’t you be a little careful?

Out of curiosity, he came near her. Some excuse of switchboard it was. With a hesitation in his tone and nervousness in his eyes, he tried to break a small talk.

She :- Umm I… I know what you’re thinking and also what you’re thinking that I’m thinking but I just want to tell you that it’s nothing like what you’re thinking that I was thinking because what I was thinking is way out of your imagination of what I was thinking…
.

.

.

 I was just… I… I really like your shirt you know and I’m a sucker for cheks… can you, can you tell me where you bought it from, like the shop? Or is it available online? Does it come in black too? tell me it does,

 please”

Taste of Jealousy

“So, how did it feel to see him with someone else?”, she asked her as both friends walked on a calm evening beach.

“It felt… it felt as if… you know if somebody had pulled my ribs apart, saw my heart beating hard and then ran a sharp straight knife over it… I could feel the warm blood pouring out and still not die… you stay alive knowing what’s happening to you… but you cannot do anything, just stand there in agony… speechless, actionless… 

Ahem!

it kind of felt like that.”


“You could have just said ‘jealous’ you know”, she said with terrified eyes.

Dragon got tamed…

That one feral child,

Who always lived free in wild,

Got caught from her own kind,

Left confusing questions in her mind.


Experienced her first human touch,

Was she feeling too much?

No no, this is different

Different from the rest,

His welcomes were exciting but goodbyes felt painful, was nature on some weird quest?


She craved, craved the feeling of being around him, always longed his presence, even waited for him at places once they met.

She couldn’t contain it, it was excruciating,  she broke the boundaries of her wild kingdom and rushed to castle where he was heard to be found.

She fought the soldiers, got stabbed on chest, held captive for a week before stumbling onto him…

Him… here he was! ‘Prince’ is what they referred him as… she didn’t understand, she didn’t care, for he was her other half, result of her prayers.

What is this attachment, what is it supposed to mean?

She didn’t understand any of it, just followed her instincts…

Was it love or pity, but Prince showed some kindness, kept her in castle, claiming her as “one of” his mates.

It was hard, she knew it in her bones,

this wasn’t her life, her people she wanted around,

It was different, painful, agitating, senseless.

She yelled and cried and begged and hurt people but could neither stay nor live.


One day, finally she decided to go back where she belonged, her kingdom, her home but one sentence from the prince melted her heart, “please dear, don’t leave me alone.”

So she stayed, knowing the mistake she was making, knowing what she would go through.

She changed herself, forced to look compatible, suitable for the prince, was always on alert if she’s not making prince feel more ashamed,

She murdered her soul for love, butchered her feelings but all people could see, people could say was,

Finally, the dragon got tamed!

Mumbai… a place you’re destined to fall in love with.

Mumbai… a place you’re destined to fall in love with.
The only place I never wanted to go was, Mumbai.

I dreamt of going to Pune, Delhi, Kerela, Dharmshala the whole effin North-east… but not Mumbai, nah never!

National geographic was our default channel at home. Every now and then they would telecast a very disturbing documentary of Mumbai. They showed how people traveled there, talk to each other, a very vivid gap between poor and rich and the problem of garbage… uhhh GAAR-BAGE, my first no-no.
Well, circumstances changed in such a dramatic way that I was left with no option but to rush Mumbai. Traveled from Vidarbha Express, nervous for my admission somehow I reached. As the train passed Kalyan station, I saw what an ideal hell must look like. Train was moving slowly and all I could see was colorful plastic bags and stinking garbage in its worst form outside. Try to understand, it was hard for me; I never experienced anything that extreme. Continue reading “Mumbai… a place you’re destined to fall in love with.”

Munni…

Half day, Saturday.

Tap tap tap tap, fingers running on my office keyboard and suddenly my mind sparked *BING*

MUNNI!

I should call her, I thought.

Took my cellphone – Tap on Contacts – Tap on Search box – Types M-U-N – “No search found”.

What???


Munni… a friend as immature as her name, an eccentric personality, a weird relation. This creature had beautiful brown straight silky hair… I loved them but hated her brown, never-to-be-trusted surma filled eyes. She was basically Kareena Kapoor from “Jab We Met”, just subtract the hidden logic and sensibility. Continue reading “Munni…”

Memories…

​Because memories makes me sad…” , she said complaining.

He :- “C’mon… aren’t they supposed to cheer us up?”

She :- ” Are they?”

He :- “Dear, I’m talking about the good ones…”

She :- “So am I…”, she replied with a sigh.

Funerals… Mourning or Mockery?

An event where your can SEE what people ACTUALLY are.

Incident 1

Back to 2005.

My mother died.

People were mourning and my supposedly “best-friend” stood fa…..r from me; outside her house with bunch of other people who were carrying a piteous look in their eyes, every now and then would make this “tsk-tsk” sound and mumble the same shit, rephrasing every time to each other.

After crying for straight 8 hours, which could have been lesser to be honest, but every time I would try to calm down…well, my relatives made sure that I DON’T!

You know, that typical Indian ‘Rudali’ sound, a minute of which is capable to shut down all the laughter clubs in the world, along with nonsense questions to a 11 year old, “Ye kyu hua, ye kyu hua” (Why did it happen? (as if I knew))  was something they kept doing. I was miserably stucked! Continue reading “Funerals… Mourning or Mockery?”

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