Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Fog, Fantasy & So-very-everyday

Glaze paper planes
Every day I make one
Tiny people, matchstick men
In folds of each I place one
Who knows which eyelash wish I blow
lands on one and it takes off
Or maybe some falling star
Sneaks in my room as I sleep
and steals one.

It rained today and I also heard
that the fog is so dense, flights won't go
I sat cross-legged on the floor
With my colored patchwork PJ's on
And pictured your smirk, your eyes, your face
as I undid the folds and turned planes to boats
So the waters
would take them along.

Kitty-tail handled mugs
Every morning I pick up two
Out of habit or sheer make-belief
That maybe out of nowhere you
would apparate here
I pour in hot chocolate
And stare the empty one
Till the time I'm done
And place it back
yet again.

I spilled the milk this morning
and your cup shared the fall
As I left the scene to bring something to clean up
The phone buzzed, your call
I came back minutes later
remembering I had a task to do
Having devoured it all, curled it lay
cuddling the two mugs together
my tiny cat, Furball.

Lock & key diaries, a few scribble conversations in class
Random pictures in random places
are bits of you that I have
All day the thought of having them keeps me sane
And my nights are a jigsaw, a never-ending hide and seek game
I see you sometimes
I never reach you though
But I wake up to play
the same thing all over again.

I finally did find you this night
after months of tracing in vain
And when you held my hand
I felt the death inside of me breathe life in
You are like gravity
I can't help but give in
I was being drawn in your arms
my world was that moment, you, just then.

And then I fell off the bed for the nth time
Who knew it was the actual gravity calling in.
A sleepy me narrated you the scene
while a world apart, the sound of your laughter
Played the paused song, my heart sang again.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Thursday, November 14, 2013

...And then there was her, the Hurricane.

I could be dark
The kind night would need, to sleep closing eyes to
The kind stars would welcome replacing the sky anew
The kind that looks at you and your secrets come undone
The kind death would cuddle as a baby next to.

I could be a storm
The kind that comes and goes often, no inhibitions
The kind Nostradamus would have had a hard time fathom into illustrations
The kind that sweeps past and life breathes in a sigh of resurrection
The kind sea would go down on knees for, pleading unison.

I could be fragrance
The kind that unlocks memories set to flames
The kind sweat would stream down his brows to unite with, it's personal suicide mission
The kind that re-instills faith in love even when the rose lies crushed, end of game
The kind happiness has, trapped in the neck of his sweater awaiting the first winter kiss to liberation.


I could be that one dark storm
That sets free your dementors
Redefines your infinities
Annihilates your fears
And leaves you with a fragrance
That you'd walk in search of
For eternity.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Saturday, October 26, 2013


As leaves turn gold and give in to gravity
Remember the kiss of that new rose on your palm.
As your heart quivers, struggles beating through the snow
Remember the stardust you are made of, and love.
As scenes change around you, the silence pierces and applause isn't a cure
Remember that after you walked in, few lives were never the same.
As you get back there, where you belong
Remember the stage is still yours, so is the song.
As it runs through your veins, that rush of adrenaline
Remember no step is too difficult to pause your dance.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Photo by: Marta Locklear (http://bit.ly/H7IbK0)

Friday, October 18, 2013

Where to, Miss?... To the stars.

"You are gonna go like this?"
"Err... Ya! What's wrong?"
"Umm. In yoga pants?"
"Long flight. I don't want unnecessary buttons poking me in and out."
"I know", saying, she winked.

A hug, her tearful eyes and smile.

And she was gone. I stood next to her empty house for sometime, taking in her absence. I knew it would haunt me in the coming days but I underestimated the intensity just then. It was cruel of her to go like that but then I knew our test of times had just begun. We had to see this through. Anyhow.
"It's too dark and cold."
"Also", she added, "I saw Paranormal Activity 2 during the day. I can't..."
She is such an extreme case. She can sit and watch a whole box of horror in a day, munching buckets of popcorn and not twitch a bit or she will be this scared little ball of fur, hiding in cardboard box at the slightest sound outside the door.
"Baby, it's just the wind probably."
"That's the word. Probably."
"I know it's nothing supernatural but you know, the dark is beautiful and sets my imagination out the normal boundaries."
"So, are you going to pick those hanging clothes today or not?"
"I have to na..."
She sounds irresistibly cute when she just wants me to approve something she anyway is going to do, adding the trademark 'na' to it.
"Ya baby, go! I am on the line. Don't hang up, keep talking and pick them up."
"Oooo La La. Tux and all. Someone is looking handsome today!"
"Today?” I teased.
"More than every other day, I feel like kidnapping you off the venue and drive off in the dark."
"Why do you go all criminal mind on me?” I loved poking her like that.
"Cos I'm crazy for you."
"That's news!"
"Go die, you."
And she laughs.
She doesn't know I often record all this. Just because.
"First salary!"
I called to share it first with her.
"Save a tenner for me. You once promised me ice cream."
"That's it? That's all you want?"
"You", she slowly said.
"I am."
"I know."
"And, it's my time to announce now."
"Go on..."
"First salary here!"
I could hear her musical laughter along as she said it.
"Go get yourself what you really, really wanted."
"A telescope, silly."
"You remembered?"
"Ask me what I don't remember."
"That was supposed to be an expression, idiot."
"I'm just playing with you."
"When was I serious anyway?"
She sends picture of Orion and asks,
"It's blurry, isn’t it?"
"A little but beautiful."
"I love the Orion Nebula."
"I know."
"I wonder how it would be, up close."
"Let's sleep?"
"Its afternoon here, babe."
"Oh right. I'll hit the bed then."
"Dream me."
"Dream you."
5 years later
There she is. Her eyes looking for me as I take my first step on the new land.
Her eyes go brighter and she smiles. She saw me.
It felt as if a steam-cyclone just ran through me. Flushed, I stood there holding her.
The world vanished at the touch of her hand.
She was my little wizard.
"Where to?" I asked again.
"You'll know."
"Surprise", she finally said.
Standing on the Glacier Point at Yosemite with her in freezing temperatures.
Her nose had her "I'm so cold" tinge of red.
Her cheeks were pink and all smiles.
But what struck me was the curiosity in her eyes.
It was getting darker with each passing second. People poured in on a full moon night but she decided it for tonight. A new moon night.
"Tell me!"
"Close your eyes."
"Do it. Close your eyes."
I did.
And she intertwined her fingers in with mine. She was cold. Won't be anymore.
Few seconds later, she said.
"I love you."
I opened my eyes.
Hers were closed shut.
I looked up and then at her and then back up.
"Open your eyes, it's time."
The Milky Way was finally showing up. Vibrant, taking over the sky.
I hadn't seen anything this breathtaking.
After her.

15 years later
"I made us two bags, love."
"Thank you. Let's go. It's gonna begin anytime now."
It was a meteor shower tonight.
"I forgot the telescope."
"Don't worry. I set it up already."
One by one she climbed the stairs. It was such a task for her. It was kind of cute seeing her try.

I was looking.
That same curiosity in her eyes. I forgot to breathe for a moment.
"Close your eyes."
I did.
And she intertwined her tiny fingers in with mine. She was cold too.
"I love you daddy."
"I love you sweetheart."
A tear trickled down my cheek.
I let it.
"Where's mommy? I can't see mommy tonight."
I took her little hand and pointed her index finger to the Orion Nebula.
"Mommy is home. Her new home."
She smiled.
The same smile I fell for, years ago.
Still do.
Every time.

"Thank you", I whispered as I looked back up.
I guess the stars twinkled in answer.
Or was it just me.
I don't know.

She loved stars so much that she became one.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Monday, August 26, 2013

You always have me

I'm broken in places I can't see or reach
I'm bleeding out patience I can't cease
I'm terrified of this autumn and all it would bring
I'm trying not to mess this hug but I'm full to the brim.

I run from glee and gloom alike
An untamed tornado, secretly a claustrophile
I take to corners every now and then
A confused exterior, guarding a hopeful self.

I say things that my actions don't comply
I weave dreams I am not sure could be
I lose temper on you for things I myself often do
I crash castles as if building them was as easy as 2+2.

No matter how difficult I make it
And how I tend to withdraw
You stand by me.
No matter where I am off to
And how I sometimes even breeze past you
You never confine me.

No matter how reckless I am
And how I end up in dark alleys of my own mind
You find me.
No matter where I've fallen and bruised
And how your hands still bear the scars from resurrecting this glass-house we live in
You fix me.

P.S. I once came across this phrase:
"All we really need to survive is one person who truly loves us. And you have her."
Repeating it over and over again in my mind gave me peace that maybe someday I'll find someone I can say that to. My path ends up before your face.

Thank you for not letting me have my way all the time. I would have missed on a gorgeous tomorrow.

No siempre el primer amor sera el único y el ultimo… siempre existirá un segundo, el cual te ame y te acepte tal cual eres a pesar de tus errores, como el primero no lo supo hacer.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Waste Friday Nights Away

I've seen days without rain
I've lived places off a page
I've hummed tunes to myself to lull
I've flipped in piggy banks in wishing wells to see some sparkles in the dull
I've taken hands in mine to hold
I've lied; I've robbed one off his gold
I've spoken and invited storms in
I've stayed shut as walls walked closing
I've survived days when fire poured
I've tasted tears of someone I love
I've laughed until I fell to the floor
I've been on the wrong side of a closed door
I've met people; I've memorized birthdays
I've stayed with a single stone, pushing it start to end of my way
I've been delusional and caved-in
I've shrugged off oceans in my eyes to see someone smiling
I've been selfish, I've hurt
I've my own skeletons-overflowing cupboards in places I never should
But I've come far
And I hold on to the worse, the best
I've yet to set my foot in deepest marsh
I've yet to climb up my highest and breathe an overwhelmed sigh
I've yet to hear from my parents they're proud
I've yet to sing LIVE, dedicating to the one who manages to convince me so
I've yet to contain myself in something to be remembered by
I've yet to hold the tiniest kitten in my hands
I've yet to defeat him at a Tekken retreat
I’ve yet to sleep in my own bunk bed
I've yet to see his reaction when he sees me in red
I've yet to tickle him until tears roll
I've yet to set my foot on a land wherein my soul gets lost for evening strolls
I've yet to sink a few Titanics, build a few Golden Gates
I've yet to assure him that in his heart I shall always stay
I've yet to meet whose songs I use as my candlelight dinner background score
I've yet to paint something I won't crush and throw away
I've yet to write a story I'd want my kid to sleep with
And somewhere in the midst of all these "I have's" and "I've yet to's"
I've built a dream
I've yet to live in
Under star-lit skies
Pointing constellations
Holding his hand
I’d love to waste Friday nights away.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Silver and Cold

I saw him
when the sun was dim
when frost slept blanketing the earth
when the heart faced yet another winter alone, unloved.

I saw him
across the room, smiling
across a sea of dementors, shining
across lifetimes, searching.

I saw him
making an effort to re-ignite the ashes my eyes bore
making music in the silence even if all I ever answered was 'I'm not sure'
making me look life beyond the pages I kept going back to, unfolding the folds.

I loved him
when the skies rained an ocean
when tears turned stardust
when I woke up to our fingers intertwined.

I will love him
when our hair are silver
when dreams we live
when our wrinkled hands go cold.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Tuesday, May 21, 2013


Escribí este por su cumple
No shimmer showered down the sky
No sun or star graced with an extra shine
No premonitions, no dreams
No signs or background chimes
No lyrics can voice those frozen seconds in time
No quote would do justice fitting just fine
No one saw those stolen glances, that glint in my eye
And not how I was finally waking up from a deep slumber, melting seeing you smile.

In random memories that sleep clinging my heart each night
There is no white horse, no shining armor or knight
In those haphazard words in the last pages of my notebook that keep me company at nightfall in a torch's light
It's no distant scarlet letter, no XOXO's nor declarations of undying love flaming bright.

It's you walking right in through that door
It's me looking up from my mess of a life to see who it is
It's you searching a familiar face
It's me smiling a little for I wanted to be chosen for once, this time.

I don't remember the colors that were worn
What I do remember is how your eyes danced, how your fingers played on the table, how your hair sparkled gold in the sun, how that December just thawed in your warmth
I don't know what words were our first, what moment we clicked, what note life's playlist adorned
What I do know is how in my life that beautiful morning you walked in, how in my heart you were born.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Monday, May 20, 2013


One thing he never asked or answered me is Why;
Why are we what we are today
or Why were we what we were back then.
How did we get here?
I can't even begin to begin.
He took my hand and ran my fingers on the freckles on his nose, around his cheeks and asked, "What about these? Aren't these imperfections?"
With the palm of my hand I closed his eyes and asked him, "What do you see?"
"It's dark with a hint of bright light" was what I got.
"Nothing is perfectly immiscible..." I began. He cut me out with a "Don't go chemistry on me, babe." But I still continued "...you will always find the world in shades, shades of colors you may not even know names of."
"How does that answer me?"
"Had the night sky been a plain boring black it would have robbed us star-gazers of the magic. Your freckles make you beautiful. It's like god-defined patterns whereon I have to plant kisses all night long. Don't be surprised if some night I go on making crazy constellations on you with a glitter pen like those joining-the-dots we used to do in play school and you wake up all sparkling. Our imperfections match us. I love how after a lot of coke we play a burp-oops-sorry and then do it intentionally for the craziness of it, how in midst of crossing a busy street you take my hand and I just go on trailing with you demanding every possible thing that we stroll pass by; be it an ice cream, shoes, jacket or a baby pink colored rosary. You know what I really like about us? It's how even after teenage passed me by a couple of years ago I still get to be your baby. How I get to be hugged mid-street just to say 'Hi' or play 'what color is it?' with gems or drink all your coffee, make a kitty face and get away with it or...

I can go on and on but the truth is no matter how close I get to expressing it, I won't ever be able to tell you how we got here. I'm just glad we got here."

...fifteen minutes later...

"Is this top too body-hugging?"
No response.
He is no where in sight. Obviously would be with that video game again. Urgh.

I feel his hands, slowly finger-walking closing in on my waist, enveloping me from behind.

"Not any close to the kind I am."

I turn around.

And... *stars*.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Three Steps Above the Sky

It's refreshing to not wanna go back to the years that just went by
It's a peaceful submission to let things be, to not re-live, re-cry
It's beautiful when you silently take my hand in the crowd or even after a petty fight
It's kind of cute to see you fumbling for the perfect words when at all I dress up a little bit and all you let out is an amazed sigh
It's an unworded thanks to sometimes find you reading my poem or two with a smile on your lips and glint in your eyes
It's a constant somersaulting universe in here, in my world that lies three steps above the sky.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

I saw her by the sea

Her locks were a perfect veil
Her eyes never left the shore
Her hands were curled around her dress
Wearing the rainbow as anklet on water she walked.

Her skin was translucent gold
Her bracelet tinkled from somewhere within the white folds
Her breath was the ocean's sigh
And when she looked up, I swear right then and there I could die.

Her smile, that I imagined to be the universe, lacked the sparkles
Her pristine self gathered composure as if something was not so right
Her eyes in mine gave me the chills of a tornado's touchdown
And when I finally blinked, the sad mermaid vanished leaving behind the tinkling of her bracelet and her song.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Monday, May 13, 2013

He likes it hot, I like it strong

I stayed under covers for a while
In the aroma of a psychological petrichor
The coffee-maker still held in his share
Unmade sheets spilled enough beans on the wait I lived through a night before.

I rose to two roses laying by my side
A tiny place between waking up and dreaming I traversed for sometime
Humming a tune while he played piano on my neck, I was too much in a trance
Jumbled lyrics from here and there fit perfect in his song.

I turned to face him, he smiled
I smiled and in unison we blinked twice
Free falling is one, through a whirlpool is another
To look in his eyes and watch your chocolate melting in his ocean is love.

And we stayed under covers all day
In the aroma of love, of dreams, of us
The empty coffee-maker graced the corner counting moments pass by
How the coffee slowly vanished while his lips devoured it off mine.

P.S. All for the mutual love of COFFEE ;-)

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Find me

As ripples in the ocean of my being
He strode through the stars and landed just where I could see
I looked, he looked back, I looked a little more intently
A little of the sky, a little of the corals in the sea
A hint of glitter is what greeted me
The world would swear it was just an innocent blink
I tell you I saw a flash and he captured a part of me
Today as he opens those beautiful eyes of his
Sprinkling wishing dust on his dreams
Dancing to the music of his heartbeats
Veiled in his eyelashes
You could
find me!

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Hands That Mold

Do you have a pet tearjerker that true to its name can always get you all dreamy-eyed, trying to contain in the rain, promising yourself that you would let just one drop escape and what follows next is a repetition of a million times like these. You are later found either by the basin, washing off the remnants of your monsoon or in some corner of your room bawling your eyes out still. Does that ever happen that a random picture breaks loose floodgates to your pent-up memories, the ones you re-live as your head hits the pillow and an involuntary hand hits the PLAY on a paused memory you left off somewhere in the interstitial voids of time only to pick back someday, scold or love yourself for what you left off or embraced.

Do you have a pet refuge you know you can always run to when nowhere in the world you would fit or when those cliched walls come closing in on you? What do you find there? Is it a part of you that you once left behind in here, safe by these shores, when the world propelled you to grow up a little too soon? Is it someone or something that makes you want to come back once again in hope of taking things right from here, yet again? So, is it really your last hope of magic happening in real life in form of self-resurrection or well, just a place you have loved too much to ever let go of?

Do you have someone in your life who you will always regard as the one person who made you who you are, ever will be? The one person whose words have been your initial spark for the many miracles you have undertaken in the course of your life till date, whose face you somehow imagine right in front of you, be it in a moment of pride with happiness gleaming in their eyes or with all the love in the world for you when you are so low that you can't even pick yourself up to match up with what the world expects of you.

If you answered a YES for all the above, you have everything in life to thank universe for it. You already have what someone somewhere can only dream of, keeping you a little sane in the insanest of times, holding your feet in the sand while your head weaves a story in the stars and hiding you, recharging you and being the reservoir of enormous strength and unconditional love when everything seems to go against you, when each tidal wave seems to carry your name as its final destination.

Why am I penning this?

I was randomly browsing through a popular social networking site when I came across the page of my school principal in there. What followed was some two minutes of smiling-to-self, remembering that time and almost as a ritual, wishing to pay best of regards to her. With that, remembering each person who has been a part of my making.


Mrs. Kiran Gulati (Class teacher in Nursery)
Manitasha (making 'forever' more than just a word)
Mrs. Nalini Rajeev (Science in grade 5 & 6)
Mrs. Bedi (Social Science in grade 4 through 7)
Mrs. Sikka (English in grade 6 & 7)
Mrs. Shukla (Hindi in grade 4 through 7)
Mrs. Suniti Bhalla (English in grade 8)
Mrs. Preeti Manchanda (Maths in grade 9)
Mrs. Geetanka Bahl (Maths in grade 8 & 10)
Mrs. Seema Kapoor (Science in grade 10)
Mrs. Rama Joshi (English in grade 11 & 12)
Mrs. Meeta Khanna ("Love for the written word")
Mrs. Sadhna Bhalla ("Life 101")
Mr. Rajeev Sharma ("Being a warrior, his Ms.WW")
Mrs. Pratima Sharma ("Invisible Rock")
Mrs. Sarika Sharma ("Hugs that heal")
Tamanna Sharma ("Standing up for what needs to be done")
Friends who have stood the test of time
Rajat Arora ("We talk literature, cats & more buddy")
(More than just a cousin) Anubhav
Sr. Sergio Bermejo ("Loving a language")
Enrique Iglesias ("Love and more love")


that darling of a person who holds my hand each day and tells me he loves me.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Friday, March 29, 2013

Stop the clocks


He doesn't quote Nicholas Sparks every now and then trying to sweep me off my feet. He is strong enough to actually do that.

His compliments don't sound like any long lost cousins of beautiful or pretty. He will just stand there with a 'Wow' expression gleaming in his eyes, fumbling for words and end up saying the sweetest "I love you." Every time.

He lets me cross the road on my own despite knowing I am a little shaky when crossing in traffic and when I have reached the other end, his face beams of triumph in the purest sense while I look at him all dazed and puzzled and utter 'Idiot', loud enough for just him to hear.

He buys me ice cream and then counts the number of days I have bunked the gym this week only to turn around and see me making a lost kitty face. I get an extra ice cream after that. Don't even bother to ask. It's his ice cream, of course.

I share a million tumblr pictures with him and he doesn't get irritated. Not the slightest. In fact, the very next day one of those is his 'Wallpaper of the day'.

He plays me the songs I once used to sing and recolors the memories I have cherished over the years. Re-visiting my past and strengthening my foundations to make me believe in the dreams I dreamed as a child, to instill in me the curiosity to soar up high and see the world from up there.

He makes me want to demolish the clichés and create something of our own. To not wait for a kiss in rain but play soccer with him as it pours.

He introduces me to versions of me I never knew existed. Every damn day there is something new, I tell you.

And if I started collecting the butterflies he ever gave me, I would have been a proud owner of a huge Butterfly Sanctuary by now.

It's by far the best jigsaw I've played. Being chosen to make that perfect fit.

It's the best chess of my life. We lay the board, stare eye to eye. Smile.

He stops the clocks for me.


I love.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Died in your arms

It was like being on a high rise, beautiful and terrifying at the same time. She was his prisoner and he guarded the doors. The sunlight sometimes entered the little place she had started to call home and reminded her of the world she left behind the day she saw him. He never really saw her or talked to her. She was wherever he was, waiting to surrender to gravity but he never really let her. She loved him. The kind of love that at first clings to you, casts spells in promises, makes you see stars a little more brighter, sugar a little more sweeter and before you know it, becomes the one thing that can break you in pieces you won't even want to find. For finding them would finally end the search. Everyone but her knew she wasn't in love with him but the pursuit of him. The chase kept her alive, she had an aim. Him being a distancer made it all the more exciting. She lived for those stolen moments wherein he sat by himself, drawing in the curtain between him and her, gulped down a few shots, sighed taking another's name and let her crawl out. She mattered then, she thought. The moment she met his lips, her existence shattered. The sudden change of pace shined her fogged winters to an early spring. She felt loved. She swore it was somewhere there. Her death was his sanity. He felt better every time she fell. And then locked her back where she belonged- in his eyes.

Closer to him than anyone would ever reach, being born in his heart and dying in his hands.

Being the tears of the man she loved. The man who didn't.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Thursday, January 10, 2013

A love like this

After fifteen odd minutes of silence, he spoke. For the very first time, I wasn't really sure if it was his voice. He had a deep hypnotizing tone to the way he made every word sound new. He looked up and I knew why. His voice, his dreams were clearly drowning in the tears that now fogged his eyes. I had never seen him cry. Maybe this is why I couldn't take it. For a second I almost considered running off. I almost did turn when I saw something. He was holding onto something. As he held it out, my heart sank. It was his wedding invite.


Her name rang in my ears as a piercing memory of the time he first told me about her. It killed me then. It killed me now. And it would have killed me had he walked down the altar with her today.

So, who am I again? I am Cyan's ex-girlfriend. That prefixed 'ex' never bothered so much until today. Wonder why. He spoke of her as an eternal dream, a bloody never-ending symphony and a mesmerizing connection between his todays and tomorrows. OK. You can scratch that 'bloody' up there. I can't take it, still. With love oozing out the ring of it, his pupils dilating and, if I must add, skies showering sparkles, he called her 'Nini'. Sometimes adding the clichéd 'baby' but that made it a hell lot cuter. Damn you Cyan. Why not me?

Uh oh. I said that out loud. Aw shucks.

Under the wedding invite was a diary. His diary. The way Cyan was standing, almost as if he would crash any second, made me want to hug him. Hug the daylights out of him but something about his eyes, the way he never looked away today made me realize I couldn't. "Read it", he said and let the moment linger for a pulse or two and went on towards the half-open door. Before closing it on me, he added, "Whole of it" and he was gone.

And I opened the diary...

What followed was a story of him and her through these years. In pictures.

"We micky-minnie (She drew 'em)"

"We happy"

"We pretentiously crazy"

"We click"

"We love"

I could go on and on up there because it was a 'Celestyna-Cyan'-athon.

And I started to go...

"Oh... cool bicycle!"
"Damn that's a pretty skirt"
"WOW... proposal"


Did I go WOW on the proposal? What else can you expect? Only Cyan can bring out the magical in the monotonous. Proposal on the swing. Simply brilliant.

They had captured each of their 6 years, 3 months and 17 days (a total of 2300 days) together, including this morning's picture where he surprised her as he turned up at her door with a water-gun spraying color all over her. It is captioned: Wedding morning surprise, adding in cursive, "She colors my life as the sun colors everything."

I almost "Aww"-ed at it.

The next page finally gave way to the tears I had been holding all these years, hating her, loving him, ditching him, hurting him and hating her all the more. In a neat cursive, what I had in my hands were his wedding vows. He penned them last night, I guess.


Counting days sounded a bit too girlish so I casually googled it but that 2300 staring me in face was the second best wowza moment of the day as of yet. The first being some three minutes ago when I saw you walk down that alter with Pa.

There are three things I always wanted to do and since for the first time I have been given the opportunity to speak first, I might as well go ahead and do those.

Undersigned 'Cyan' with that 'dashing' C as he always made.

I blinked. Tears and more tears. Was I still wishing it was me? HELL NO. When you see someone you love loving someone, you hate that other person. But when you know that love is as real as this, as innocently woven bit by bit as this, you fall for it. You love the fact that such picture perfect stories do exist. And you know the best part? This hope. This immense hope I am filled with right now that somewhere out there I will find this, this ever-so-amazing soul-enlightening man who will weave a story, my story with me, each day of forever.

And so I walked up to the door only to see him waiting. Cyan has always been this crazy best friend of mine. That 'ex' part made it a little awry but what the heck, he still cares enough to know if I am happy with this or not.

I did what I was meaning to do since I saw him today. Hugged the daylights out of him and in his ear whispered "I love this love and I would love to see the three things. She's beautiful for she's yours. Go ahead." He lifted me up and smiled. And in that moment I knew, Cyan and Celestyna were meant to be. As for him and me, I smiled. For smiles is what he has always been.

Rough patch- DELETE.

And so I walked beside him. Whaaaat? Bros walk their bros till the very end no?

She, the Greek goddess or fairy, clad in a silver white dress with her bracelet tingling, her eyes sparkling, enchanting the ceremony walked in with her father. Cyan's eyes were Disneyland, I tell you. I could see fireworks!

And he said his vows.

Taking from where we left off:

"There are three things I always wanted to do and since for the first time I have been given the opportunity to speak first, I might as well go ahead and do those."

This was a beautiful scene.

One, he sang (Cyan’s voice is a mix of Clay Aiken and David Cook. That enticing) a few lines going...

"...Cos when I look at my life
How the pieces fall into place
It just wouldn't rhyme without you
When I see how my path
Seem to end up before your face
The state of my heart
The place where we are
Was written in the stars..."

Two, there were bubbles all around. Courtesy: Friends.

And three...

He took her hand and twirled her around. She smiled, he smiled and the world to them was a blur. He knelt down and a faint song began which, as Cyan is, he sang along.

"Tell me can you feel my heart beat
Tell me as I kneel down at your feet
I knew there would come a time
When these two hearts would entwine
Just put your hand in mine

For so long I have been an island
Where no one could ever reach these shores
We've got a whole lifetime to share
And I'll always be there, darling this I swear

So please believe me
For these words I say are true
And don't deny me
A lifetime loving you
And if you ask will I be true
Do I give my all to you
Then I will say I do"...

And they kissed.

This is one moment I clicked and added it on the last page of his diary captioning:

The Beginning.

Cyan and Celestyna,

Thank you for making me believe in love again. For instilling in me this concrete belief that even in today's times where it has gotten down to just meeting, eating and mating, there still are people, not too far away in a fanfic, that I can look up to and say 'You see this, this adorable pair, I love them.' Cyan, having known you all these years, it was a little hard to digest that the guy the whole school was after was taken the first day of college. Maybe that was the moment I knew you are gone for good. Little did I know it isn't just good but this beautiful- Celestyna. You spellbinding little princess. I, of all people in the world having read over 300 novels till date including the super clichéd Nicholas Sparks couldn't imagine a bride this ethereally beautiful walking down the aisle. You know what's the most remarkable thing I witnessed today at your wedding? When Cyan went down for his Grand 'I do', those little specks of tears jingling in your eyes accompanied with a smile. That moment was precious. Thank you for having me around all this time. Now before my Mr. Awesome gets lost, I should better find him. Or better, get drunk and party. Let him find me!

Love and Kisses,

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

Disclaimer: The pictures used have been taken from Google Images, Tumblr blogs and Pinterest. The song lyrics used are Written in the Stars and I do by Westlife.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013


"What would he think?"
"Will he ever know who gave him this?"
"Should I add a little clue?"
"What if someone else gets to it first?"
"God, I'm such a mess."

*Sleeps again*
*Gets up. Under the covers, the torch is back ON.*
"Hope you do get this someday."
*Stops. Takes a deep breath. Continues*
"I was late for school today. A part of me didn't want to go. Winters are all about curling up with a book, hot chocolate, empty mugs on bed-side table and your kitten sleeping in your lap. Wait. Do you have a kitty? I have. His name is Coffee. And he knows a lot about everything I am going to put here. I talk, he purrs. He purrs I listen.

I was walking up the road, having decided to chuck school and head somewhere else instead. A random place, have tea at one of those tiny shops near Zumaha crossing, talk to that little girl who sells flowers in front of the tree house, sit by that huge rock in the Sirena Valley and write something. Maybe sing a song or two with the eastern winds trying out new hairstyles on me, kissing my cheeks, teasing me, and pleasing me. Cafuné is the word. I read it somewhere. I crossed the Darling woods on my own for the first time. I wonder why momma never lets me go out on this trek. How I wish life had a background score. I would have played my favorite song right about... Here.

Somewhere in between the intoxicating blues of the sky and lush greens of the leaves, I saw red. Not the heart red. The bright red. The one that strikes you like lightning at one go and while you are still recovering, it slowly makes you fall in for more. Take the cherry red and crimson together. That red. I stood there for a long time before I realized I was staring at a muffler.

Now before you tag me a shopaholic, fold this piece of paper and wonder why you got reading this in first place, I must add as my eyes wandered up, that red lost its sheen. The world stopped spinning and I am pretty sure my neurons did somersaults for quite a sometime and then I realized I was gazing. I was drowning. I was...*sigh* wordlessly, breathlessly looking in the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. The eyes that weren't looking into mine. He was reading.

THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA by Ernest Hemingway

*mind-notes begin- Read this book*

I was carrying BLINK by Malcolm Gladwell.

I looked up again. He was reading. And I was melting. I could have fallen to my knees but it would have gotten misinterpreted as the proposal pose. I could have flown away if I could. The look was serene. Surprisingly, now the book no where seen. He was looking at me.


*Looks around. No one.*
*Looks behind herself. No one. Again.*

*Talks in a gesture because if at all voice comes out, it would probably be a squeal.*

"Me?" (Points herself)

"Ya. Good book?"

*And he gets up*
*And he is walking towards me*
*And I am... not dying.* [self hi-five]

"Ya pretty nice. Yours?"
"Good too. I haven't seen you around. New here?"
"Nay. Born here. Exploring has just begun."


for image source, click here.

You. The guy I've met just once and if you finally got this, then twice. I won't be coming back tomorrow because if I do, I won't be able to get back to where I belong for now. I don't know your name. It's amazing to have traversed a whole lifetime talking to you yet not knowing what you are called as. And if you are wondering why the sudden change of events, I must tell you the change happened the very second I saw you. And all I can say is I am in love with you. I almost added 'I guess I am' but no need. I am sure. I just wanted to capture this moment. That red muffler. Those grayish-blue eyes. That searching look on your face yet the most welcoming "Hey". That slow and subtle "Umm" you add before answering my endless questions of who, whose and why's. That sudden "Really?" followed by "Me too" moments we had today. Every bit of the man you are today and ever will be. Somewhere in between your blinks and beats, you have taken me in. I am not so sure how all this might occur to you. Crazy, don't it? Yes. For the first time I admit it. I am. This moment, this very second, tears are flowing down my face, Coffee is pausing mid-purr as if to ask "What now?", and I am making a wish, packing it away, sealed with a kiss.

"Dear Stars (if you are listening),
The sparks were amazing. Thank you.
Unite us. In time. Sometime.
Some years and hence...

Having half-read that one book he really liked, he never really laid hands upon it again. He wondered why. Maybe that girl was a better read. Maybe something about her just made him forget time. She came the next day clad in a similar red muffler as his smiling the smile he was being drawn into. Irrevocably. As he dusted off the same copy today, re-living that day, he remembered how she had taken the books for a second or so, struck a conversation and that's that. An hour she stayed there. Showed him pictures of her kitten. Where would she be today, he wondered.

He was brought back in the present with a sudden jerk of hand and three things randomly falling from inside the pages of the book. Staring at him were her eyes. Big, beautiful eyes. He thought he never missed her until now when tears cascaded down his face. The second picture was of her kitten. And a nicely folded paper. It looked old. Did she slip this in while he was so engrossed talking to her?
And he read.
That night, he went to bed with a heavy heart. Broken maybe. She loved him. He loved her. She said it. He never answered. Alice. For sure that was just a name she loved. As in 'Alice in Wonderland'. It wasn't hers.

He just got married three days ago and was shifting to a new place. Hence, all the cleaning and moving.

The following morning his wife found the note while he was in bath. She didn't utter a word about it to him. He went off to work, quietly. No breakfast. Just a Goodbye kiss.
When he came back, he called out for her "Celia"...

*no answer*

He went back to his room. His copy of 'THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA' lay open on his bed. The pictures and the note very much there. As he was about to call out to Celia again, his eyes rested upon the red muffler on which lay a note. Beautiful cursive.

"Dear Stars (I know you listen),
The sparks were amazing. They still are. Thank you.
For uniting us. In time. Forever.

P.S. Celia is an anagram for Alice."

And life just began again…

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

for image source, click here.