I love you

I wrote this for the I love you Blast from the Past thread .. Such lovely writeups and edits all up there. How do they manage to write so much? Something different har baar.. Something new har baar.. I guess that is what is true creativity..

http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=4056429

When did my heart know it had fallen for you? Was it when I first met you and you were nasty to me? Was it when I met you again and you dismissed god and everything that I believed in? Was it when I saw you again when I least expected it? You hurt me, mocked me. Did my heart know at that moment?

When did my heart know it had fallen for you? Was it when you first stood gorgeous in front of my eyes? Was it when you drove me mad in anger with your words? You handed me a key but I had long closed all doors. Did my heart know right then it would soon open up for you?

Through all our fights, through my tears, through those fears did my heart just smile? When you saved me that night and saved me again another stormy night did my heart cheer?

Through all the times I tried to ignore you, through all the days and those nights I fought not to adore you, did my heart just smile? When I saw you in red and held you in my arms like a porcelain breakable treasure did my heart in delight roar?

I entered your house when I thought I would go away. I saw you with another and never knew why the tear escaped my eye. You looked at me and one day my heart dreamt of sparkling stars and colorful flowers that you brought just for me. Was the dhak dhak my heart's way of telling me something?

You entered my house when I thought I would never see you again. I was safe with another then why did you start to matter more? Those times I saw you sad, those times when your dupatta beckoned to me what was my heart really telling me?

That time when I ran to you. That time when I know not why I needed you. That time when I held you and cried. You were the strength that kept my heart going.

That time when I stood unable to move. That time when I knew not how to make things better for you. That time when I wanted to stop your tears. Wish I could be the reason your heart kept joyously beating.

That night when you looked at me across the room. That night when my heart raced, and my eyes sought you repeatedly. That night when you returned my ma's payal to me. That night I wanted to know what your heart was saying about me?

That night when I could not take my eyes away from you. That night when your hypnotic gaze held me prisoner. That night when I wanted to touch you and could not walk away . What would your heart have said if I asked you?

I knew I could not be bound to another. I knew you hurt me , but were hurting more yourself. I wanted to reach out to you. My heart wept for you as it did for me.

I didn't know why I wanted you to belong to no other. I did not know why I felt this claim on you like no other. I wanted you to be mine , but you would belong to another. How my heart wept at losing you before you could be mine forever.

My heart danced when you danced with me. All those times you came close. All those times you smiled. All those gifts you gave me that told me you were longing to be mine.

My heart was feeling adventurous, boisterous, young. How beautiful you looked. How my hand felt on your waist. How it was an addicting taste. How your blush told me you too longed to be with me.

Then what went wrong? Why did my heart have to break? Why did you say all there was between us was hate?
Then why did it have to go so wrong? Why did my heart have to break? And even the why could I still not only hate?

You are gone. My heart is a lonely crying curled up ball somewhere in my chest. It needs to breathe. It needs to beat. It still hopes you will somehow magically stop it to bleed.

I am stuck. My heart can only worry about you. It is frantic. It knows what it wants. It knows to who it belongs. Is it strong enough to make everything all right?

I cry. I sob. I hear your voice and I come apart.

Don't cry darling. Don't sob my beloved. I feel your tears and come apart.

If this is what you need to hear, this is also what I need to say, my dear.. Khushi I love you..

Happy Third Anniversary IPK

My post on BFTP Third anniversary thread..

Its been an insanely crazy two weeks.. Have not watched the show in these 2 weeks.. have a mind full of others things, still IPK lingers in it.. 

http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=4043799&PID=107897496&#p107897496

She put on those running shoes underneath her shimmering lehenga, kick started her isskooter and took us right alongside her on a ride of a lifetime. She looked up at the flying helicopter overhead and we stared right with her. Unknown to her and us, in flew our rajkumar.

He took off those black shades and stared right into our hearts. Those long strides on Sheesh Mahal's fabled grounds had him entering our souls. Laying a claim on it. What happened to him mattered. Why those eyes had those haunting shadows mattered.

She landed in his arms and a love story like we had never seen before started. His inert face came alive. She quivered in those strong arms and we shivered with her. Anger got a new name, Arnav Singh Raizada. Style got a new name Arnav Singh Raizada. The word Hero got a new name, Arnav Singh Raizada. And soon I was shopping for dresses with pearl doris on them. Ready to have them ripped in anger. Ready to open my straight long black hair and have it swish unrestrained across my back in reply.

It is really not long. Not three years but more like 8 moths that I know this show. It feels enough.

Before I knew it on my ha..ha.. happy days I was singing a new song.. Aaj mausam hai suhana.. When I looked at a tray full of mithai earlier I thought of my dadaji who loved mithai. Now I think of Khushi Kumari Gupta.

When I walk across a deserted parking lot I look around to see if a thin young girl drenched in rain has been saved by a man who thinks he hates her. When I wear red I sigh in frustration because I can never look as amazing as the girl who took his breath away.

My phone ringtone sings rabba ve. I refuse to put it in silent even in office. My husband knows the song and hums it with me when he wants to make me happy. My friends know it means something. I meet random people and tell them I like a show which has this song rabba ve. The person sitting behind me in office knows she will see colorful pictures on my screen most days.

When I see a person with a bluetooth he is no longer a show off. He is another reason to remember the one I need no reason to remember. Tycoons are from harvard who write contracts for marriages. And damaadji's study from haridvar.

My favourite quotes are no longer from books, they are from 2 lovers who redefined love for me. My favourite heros' would be from English classics now it is one character from an Indian television show. My favourite movie actor is Shahrukh khan, but am waiting to call someone else my favourite actor. He perhaps already is. And did I hear he has a three film deal?

I look at elder ladies in my family and try to find a nani. Look for a glimpse of a hello hi bye bye. Long to hear a voice say Hai re nand kisore. When I smile, and sometimes even when my husband smiles we scrunch up our eyes like a certain religious elder sister does when she is happy.

Words end with wa.. Snakewa, bitwa.. And I try hard to speak broken english..

Orange juice, Pakori, golgappa, channa and even 'dumb aaloos' have all become part of my diet. Sanka is a precise art I have learned to identify. Its strength apparent to me in how a girl handled anger, problems, life.

I like crooked plaits. I like flying dupattas. I like jaipuri chappal. I love silver payals.

A picture of a boyish charming laughter never fails to bring a smile on my face. And a girl playing blind man's buff with a servant makes the smile turn to a wide grin. Of course servants are not servants if their names don't end with a Prakash.

Ajeeb, tum thik ho, farak parna have become copyrighted words. No one can say it without my mind racing to some other significant event between the man and woman. Soon the memory turns to how he holds, how she reacts. How he steps forward, how she moves back. I become daring as I think of the unthinkable. As I want a girl to act on the attraction. Want a man to be able to show the attraction.

I always loved looking at stars. But now when I gaze up all I do is say thank you for the happiness that I have got in my life. For letting my belief in love strengthen. For introducing me to something out of this world. When I look at stars now all I can think of is two lovely ajeeb people madly in the most beautiful ever love.

Teri meri, ek do teen, oo la la, hawa hawai , namak ishq ka, mujhse shaadi karogi are all no longer related to different movies. They all bring the same stunning face before me.

Holi, diwali will never just be festivals. Heartbeats are all dhakane now.. Confessing love.. being near the one you love should always involve a rapid increase in the very same dhakarne.. And also an increase in acidity..

I love mehendi. But now when I apply it the smile is because a certain someone also always had 'A' in her name. And a kiss is as nice as an 'almost' kiss.

If am sad I no longer blame life. If am upset I no longer blame the world. It is all the fault of AD when I would be better off in SKD.

Lakshmiji is not a godess anymore. And 'mere bhagwanji', as I would say, is quite often replaced by devi maiyya as I hit my head with my palm. With it I tend to use words like parmeshwari and sankadevi. Add in a healthy dose of titliya as well.

When someone is holding on to someone I think its not the correct pose if not holding on to a little of the shirt. Am better at dealing with sadness, better at dealing with anger. It needn't always be sweet in fact the jhagda adds in the much needed spice. I now know better when to be quiet, and I know when to be chirpy when my man is upset. My husband's name has the perfect letters. And all you need to do is replace a 'v' with a 'b' to make me a fan from a wife. My marriage anniversary is not just my own but shared with the very same person am a fan of.

What the, dammit definitely a part of my vocabulary. And I would have it no other way. Who says I love you anymore. Its not love till it has a bit of dammit in it.

India Forum open on all browsers.. on my phone, laptop, ipad. Blasters my friends. My friends know their msgs may get delayed replies because I am busy replying to my forum friends. My friends no longer bother to call me mad, they know am completely irrevocably mad. My family when visitng know I may randomly get stuck looking at the screen typing furiously. My mornings start even before my eyes are open with me refreshing my posts. My nights end as my eyes are drooping still desperately refreshing my posts.

I no longer just read, I write as well. Fan fiction reading as important as story book reading. I now take screen shots. I am no longer at a loss at what to ask for gifts. The best gift I got was HD episodes of IPK. I am no longer ever bored. There is always an episode to watch. A discussion to be part of.

If Iss Pyaar Ko Kyaa Naam Doon brought happiness, brightness, excitement in my life, blasters have brought in inspiration. Can't thank you both enough for making such a big difference in my life.

Happy anniversary everyone! I am very very extremely lucky to get a chance to enjoy the show and it is an absolute privilege that I get to enjoy it with you all.

Thank you ...