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By Kiran, January 18, 2010 9:48 pm

This is a post I had written two months ago, but never ended up publishing. It was supposed to be part of the wedding website which I was working on, but never got time to finish. Its a mass version of the “Our Story” page that goes on a typical wedding website. Thought it would be a good start to re-blogging.

Once was a Dude. Dude lived in his own world. Dude was unkempt. Dude was lazy. Dude was too busy marking merry with other Dudes. Also Dude was in constant denial. Dude thought no lady could stand him.

Then came Lady. Lady was perfect.Lady was opposite of Dude. Lady was exactly same as Dude. Lady worked hard. Lady did chores. Lady loved little things. Lady called relatives and friends in weekends. Lady was smart. Lady was simple. Lady was daunting.

Dude was confused. Dude did what he does best. Dude was fellow in Worldwide Association of Sporadically Toothless Entities (aka WASTE Fellow). Dude pondered. Dude didn’t want to be bothered in his merriment.

Dude finally gave up. Dude could not resist Lady. Dude was spellbound by Lady. Dude did romantic things. Dude bought flowers for Lady. Thrice. Dude sneaked off to show her around town. Dude felt at ease with Lady. Dude’s daddy already cross-examined and approved. Dude was uneasy.

Dude finally confessed love on top of tall building. Lady impressed. Dude on winning streak. Dude took Lady for fancy dinner. Dude used last of credit to buy ring for Lady. Dude got lucky break and had Lady’s attention at beach on full moon night. Dude dropped on his knees. Dude not responsible for crater. Dude proposed to Lady. Lady Happy. Dude Happy.

Lady fall in love. Lady write letter on napkin. Dude totally impressed. Dude married Lady on September 4. Lady oraganized grand reception. Dude told jokes. Lady dressed to kill. Dude killed buffet. Family Happy.

Dude getting married soon. Dude anxious. Dude not anxious. Dude is master of ceremonies. Lady heavy planning. Dude will try to follow lady. You come to dude marriage. You enjoy. Dude enjoy. We all enjoy.

Comments (4)

By Kiran, August 26, 2009 10:36 pm

For a change, I am happy. For a change, I look forward to the future. There are things that are about to happen; things that are life-altering, that incite some much needed optimism, that scare the hell out of me, that I actually welcome into my meager life. Lets just say, its that time of the year when I am incredibly positive and scarily anxious at the same time. Nonetheless, its an essential rite of passage and am confident that my plunge into the bay of no return will be both rewarding and rejuvenating.

For years, I needed a control variable, one that puts me in place, that gives me some inkling of a border between normal and excess, one that grounds me deep down into the chasm called reality, and now I am happy that I finally found it. And while I might have been the big bad wolf for most of my public life, I think that finally there are people that see that I have a little more to offer than goofball jokes, unneeded rants and frivolous exploits. I have lived for too long in big minutes and small victories, and now I finally get the chance to relish the small seconds and big victories.

So here’s to change. Here’s to love. Here’s to my amazing luck and incredible fortune. Cheers.

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By Kiran, July 11, 2009 9:06 pm

Her best friend had one, her roommate had one, most of her colleagues had one. She would normally turn a nonchalant eye towards such things, but of late she had seen her roommate cuddle with him one too many times. In the past, she had tried not to stare, for such thoughts might corrupt her and tip the balance of her perfect life. As she reached the entrance to her apartment building, her neighbor, a middle aged single lady who normally never made eye contact, waved to her. This was the same lady who once always seemed to stare at the pavement with her droopy eyes, the one whose faded flowery skirts had stopped being fashionable a decade ago. But today, her smile covered almost her entire face, and there was a warm glow in her eyes, and she even seemed a tad taller in her cheap but shiny heels.

It didn’t take a stock broker to figure that she was clearly in love; her hello was almost melodious and could be heard a block away. Her arms quickly wrapped around him once more as she lovingly shifted her stare back into his brown eyes. As she walked past her, for a second, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat envious. She thought back to her own now seemingly barren situation. She was definitely desirable, and many had told her how ravishing she looked in an evening gown as well as a traditional dress. Her big dreamy eyes and her thick flowing hair would seamlessly facade her smarts and wits. She had had several opportunities in the last two years, but she never felt a connection to any of them. Sometimes they seemed lifeless, sometimes they seemed boring and uncaring, sometimes they were obnoxiously loud and demanding. As time went by she had lost her motivation, and decided it was easier to let fate put him in her path. It had been two years since then and the fall’s blossoms and winter’s flakes had come and gone. But today was different, that gaping hole had found its way back, and that desire to have a companion was slowly eating into her. That moment she decided; it was time to stop procrastinating and putting her feelings off; she was going to get herself a dog too.

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By Kiran, June 29, 2009 10:23 am

They say that most people are searchers, but unfortunately they don’t know what they are searching for. We search for that to be great moment, the fulfilling job, the wonderful spouse, the miracle cure, the purpose of being, and sometimes even for the meaning of the soul. Some searches end with victory at the finish line and some searches only beget more searches. Every victory and every loss, every celebration and every tear of despair, every toast and every consolation, don’t just shape our perspective on new quests, but also make up the very essence of who we are.

Sometimes the answer is as simple as three words, sometimes the answer is as complex as our dna, sometimes the answer is vague and metaphorical and sometimes it is straighter than Tell’s arrow. And in that momentary revelation, when the answer materializes itself for all but a flash, its ironic that we seldom realize that we already knew what it was all the way along. And suddenly we grow an appreciation for the question that we turned over and over in our heads, reshaped and reworded and extended  into six other sub-questions. Once again, I find myself retraining my monkey brain to stop worrying about the answers and start enjoying the journey that the question entails. But at the same time, I have of late taken to relishing the answers, waiting for them to take form, and subsequently on those rare auspicious occasions when they do reveal themselves, revel in the however brief euphoria. For after all, we are but mere mortals.

So I say cheers to those few moments in life when we find the one answer makes all those questions irrelevant, when we realize that a whole new future is about to unfold unto us, to those few moments when the most perplexing of problems disentangle into pure colors, to the times when the sense of joy is only overtaken by the desire to express it, and to those fleeting events which make us realize that we are only as happy as the people we love.

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By Kiran, April 13, 2009 11:14 pm

The guy behind the register was hardly skirting nineteen, nonetheless he looked proud and in control. There used to be simpler times when she could just ask for a small or large mocha at the corner bakery, but now she could carry out a whole conversation in grandes and ventis. He had chosen the starbucks; he was definitely a coffee drinker, the kind that would be in a coma each morning was it not for that strong cup of pike. She had reached there a good fifteen minutes before the deadline, she was never the tardy type whether it was work or pleasure. Somehow this was more important than all those projects that her boss demanded she show up for at the eighth stroke. Her mind was racing in a million directions, her thoughts, fears and hopes were suddenly in that large end-of-the-world collider she had read about last month. She had lost count of the “what if” questions at some point, and programmed herself to accept reality as it is. As one memory blurred into another, she thought back to the times when she had replayed this scene scores of times hoping to see a form to the silhouette.

It was a cruel game and fate tended to choose its victims with extreme prejudice. She had once wanted to be a rebel wading her way against the current, her charm and her smile were her weapons, and her steadfast dedication to her cause was her brown sugar. It was a beautiful day, and today she had even heard the birds chirp near her concrete adobe. She tried not to look happy, she wanted to be normal and her stoic self, and for the sixteenth time she had just told herself she was an impenetrable fortress. Melodrama was not her thing, she was the realist or that’s what she liked to think. But there had been a lingering void; she had looked far and hard and she tried to fill it with presumably fun things and memorable exploits. She had many reasons to smile that morning, but she was tired of repeating those reasons; her heart was right, but her joy was hard-found. Every night she forced herself to feel somewhat fulfilled but every morning she would wake up and talk herself into not dreading another day of loneliness. In a parallel universe, she might have worshiped the achiever, but she would imagine herself at Mr.Big’s side at that academic dinner and decided it was not her tea party. It felt like a lifetime ago and a heartbeat ago; here she was again – piqued by her curiosity, pestered by her family, teased by her friends, and buoyed by her optimism.

There were two people waiting for a free brew; she knew he was not the type that would be standing in line for a freebie. She had tried her best not to judge him, more than anything she did not want to preempt any potential shot at happiness. She felt confused, she was not sure how she could succumb to the pressure, but her mother had talked her into it. She had even heard good things about him, even sensed a certain depth in his character, and wanted to believe that he was more than the sum of his words. She was a smart girl, a detective of sorts, she would develop the full profile in the first three minutes; if he wore jeans, he wanted to feel more relaxed, but a shirt would trump a polo; if he wore a vest underneath it would mean he cares about his hygiene, if she could smell a strong cologne, he was trying too hard. She took another sip of that mocha and tried to tell herself not to jump to conclusions, but she couldn’t help wondering if he was he an answer or would he simply be another question, was he a solution or just another problem, was he genuine or just another wannabe. It was four minutes past the said time, and there was finally a new customer at starbucks. He stood in the doorway for a good five seconds before he spotted her and made his way to her table. She smiled for the first time on a Thursday. He wasn’t just another shadow.