FALL IN LOVE BEFORE YOU GET RICH…


The plans of falling in love have started blossoming all over again…
Previously, I had stalled all such planned stints to focus on my career…
Though ‘love’ always whets my appetite and I demand for more but such waters have always seemed choppy without wherewithal and I had finally settled down on targeting the bird’s eye after getting rich…
The desires had muffled and ‘love’ had almost fainted to illegible from my worksheet.
But, say a fluke or may be misfortune again made the airs redolent of such wishes…
The unbridled surge of emotions has again led me on esplanades that I had long forgotten…
…its not that I have met some nice dame and want to fall in love but it is that fear has met me and made me to trawl for a nice heart (of course with a nice face and sexy build) that loves me more than I do, in the crowd…
The unexpected catastrophe of ‘now that you are rich…let’s fall in love’ comes like a zephyr though strong enough to turn my perception by 180 degrees.
The last page that displays monetized emotions of a girl to get a rich guy really leaves me staggering.
The novel though not at par with ‘of course I love you…till I find someone better’ but is definitely a cut above the counterparts available in the market…
Not as such a must read but the writing skills of Durjoy and Manvi bind you throughout the story…
At moments it casts a magic spell over the reader.
The excerpts like the one about geeks falling in love and the other one about losing virginity leaves the reader lauding his writing skills.
The end that comes completely out of the box that transforms the novel from being a happy ending type to a sheer epitome of hypocrisy really deserves plaudit.
All in all he receives a good rating if only I were the reader…I can’t say about the others.
Somewhere in my heart, the ploy in which the story culminates leaves me with no option but to invite application forms from sexy good looking girls (essentially my type) for being my girlfriend…

Hurry up!!

Toilet paper
I was sold in some shop in India. I know that I am not ubiquitous in Indian households but someone, may be suffering from the dearth of water in his flat or may be not acquainted with the Indian ways of accomplishing the thing, purchased me. Now I am his washroom (may be latrine will better serve my purpose) essentials.
I am serving him in the way my relatives serve in other nation. He does all scruffy stuff with me but as I am on duty and so have to endure all aggravations silently. I have to keep up with the expectations associated to me.
I am obliged to fulfill the desires of my boss, his family, friends and friends of friends too who occasionally turn up at his place just in search of some bang and end up there after booze.
.
.
.
I never wanted to be what I am but the anticipations of my family, my friends, who themselves are toilet papers nabbed me every time I tried to escape. I didn’t try hard either.
Actually I am living with a fixed code of conduct. I have to keep up to the expectation of every acquaintance.
Some want to see me like a good service personal…
Some want to see me happy whatever be the miss happenings I am subjected to…
Some want to flaunt me as if I am a shining star which belongs to them…
And I am expected to reciprocate in accord.
But nobody wants me to be me…
It has been a long-long night…and a couple of hours back it seemed eternal…
But may be, I have discovered myself…I have surfaced on a new horizon…here I am with myself…
Reflections have taught me suffice to know that all I need is I and all I long for is my star…
May be, I can be at least a stamp if not a dollar!!