Sunday, November 11, 2012

Jab Tak Hai Jaan

WARNING: Violent stuff. Read at your own risk.

I made sure to arrive at Inox early. While I had booked the show for 'Jab Tak Hai Jaan' show online,  I was notified that due to the server being down, the reservations had to be done by personally coming at the Box Office. My Hummer pulled up at eight o'clock on the dial of my Tag Heuer. I stepped out dressed in a black dress by Valentino, shoes by Prada, Versace glares and wearing Clive Christian perfume. I approached the Box Office, eyeing a group of layabout fatties. Moving past them, I stood in front of the queue.

"Hey, do you work here?" one of the fatties asked.

Enraged that anyone would think I would stoop so low as to work in sales and that anyone would think someone with my body, tan and clothing would even conceive the notion of so much as taking a measly internship at such an establishment, I managed to keep my cool and tell him no.

"Then the line starts over there," he said, pointing at the end of the queue. I conveniently ignored him.

For the next half an hour, I stood in front of the Inox box office watching people through my Versace glares. There were two hot dudes, a tall muscular guy and a short haired lean guy with a long neck, that turned me on. Suddenly, three of the fatties from the group behind me came up to me and started to hassle my stake as the legitimate first person in the queue. One of the fatties, the shortest, wore a cheap basketball shorts that he might have taken out of a dumpster and a v neck tee that revealed too much of man breasts. His sight alone angered me.

"You are not going in first. We are here since seven thirty", the fatso argued. 

I tried to remain calm, even though they had touched my last nerve and somehow kept my hand away from the pocket knife in my Gucci purse.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Nothing Lasts Forever

"You are still not listening to me. I have ten more minutes and then I have to be at home." Zeba said, still glaring. It wasn't that she didn't like Varun, it's just that her home wasn't the kind of home you'd go telling someone about. Her mom would kill him and more importantly her, if she brought him home. And Zeba was the first person to tell you she got enough drunken late night beatings from whatever boyfriend her mom happened to drag home that night. She loved him, even though he always got under her skin and pissed her off. She looked at her watch, hell bent on not giving in, but with each passing second, her resolve grew weaker.

Varun watched Zeba. He knew she couldn't hold out much longer. He also knew that she was the most stubborn chick in Mumbai. He'd complained about this fact a million times to his older brother Siddarth, who'd encouraged him not to give up. He'd explained it as, "Chicks, bro, chicks just have to know that you'll be there, no matter what. Especially Zeba." Everytime Varun thought of  all the hurt Zeba went through everyday, his resolve to stay with her would become stronger.

Zeba heard something she couldn't argue with. He blurted out her biggest secret and used it against her. Hearing from someone else what she has to go through at home, brought out a rush of emotions she wasn't equipped to deal with. Zeba was the type of girl who pushed down her anger and fear and hatred, seething in it, until it consumed her and then she would go bonkers. But lately, she has had a harder time diffusing. She blamed Varun and her growing attraction to him for this. Cursing loudly, she ran past him screaming "WHAT PART OF 'NO' DIDN'T YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Zeba went to her home where as usual she saw her mom with another guy. She was pissed but had no clue what to do. On such ocassions, she found peace in praying. She would pray for hours, asking Almighty to rid her off her problems and keep her sane, till she fell asleep.

She woke up with a very bright light outside the window. She saw Varun standing outside. She opened the window, hair flying with the wind, a cold shiver shaking her body a little.