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Friday, December 28, 2012

Pink or Black - HIgh Drama at HIgh school

Pink or Black 2 

So Pink or Black 2 is about a lot of kids in the 11th grade, to whom clearly emotions and relationships are of no particular importance. Our protagonist Tianna, just starts off with  a new year at school, and is bought face to face with incidents in her past.

She reveals her secret to her friends who don’t believe in keeping secrets and spill the beans, about her past in front of the whole school. (some friends eh?). She has surprises in form of her cousin Tea, who lands up in her school as the “hot new thing”, and slowly sizzles away. She plays her part, rather takes revenge in a very dramatic rather stupid manner.

Tianna’s friends are no longer her friends and start bitching about her the minute she is out of ear  - shot. Every “hot” or “good looking” guy is in “love” or has “feelings” for her. Her ex-boyfriend, breaks up with her, and can’t take the fact that she took the break-up so coolly!. I’m sorry, is the author really delusional?? .

To add more to the story, there is this set of “rival” gang with whom she is forced to eat lunch with and they become her “friends”, with whom she confides everything!!there is this on and off friendship that she shares with Leila. I’m seriously starting to think that this chick is demented or rather needs help.

Anyways so everything gets sorted out in la-la land. Realization dawns on tianna with regard to friendship and love. Sigh!!!

You know what , one word which describes this book : AVOID.

I mean where do teenagers behave this way?? Do you treat your friends indifferently just because the new “hot” guy knows your friend?? Do you treat her like crap because she has her own POV??? Well if you do , then this book is for you.

My ratings : 2/10

This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com . Participate now to get free books!

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Letters to the unknown

Dear Gautam,

Honestly, I don’t even know why I am penning this down. But I guess this is going to be the only way I can pour out my heart. Right now, that’s the only thing I can do. I will not be able to see you again. I have been selected for a divine cause, my aunt , I’m sure you might remember her from the market. Anyways, so my aunt feels that I am very lucky to have been “the chosen one”. She said she has been hoping it to be her, and that she is outright jealous of me too.

But I really don’t feel lucky at all. I wanted to pursue college, you know I loved chemistry. College was special, a lot more because of you. I don’t know if you ever saw me before that accident, before I stopped college. But I did. I still remember that day when we were submitting our forms, for college. You were creating a ruckus , having an endless conversation, with a friend of yours. You were told to lower your voice by a professor, and shockingly, within minutes, that professor was eating out of your hands. Your charm, and quick wit, combined with a whacky sense of humor had made you an instant hit.

Your antics in the foyer, your helping nature, and your ability to spot books in the library did not go unnoticed. i even attended one of your English literature class, and wasn’t disappointed with your intelligent retorts. It almost had me in fits.

My eyes would constantly search for you while my brain used to hold  endless conversations with you. I even rehearsed what I would say , when we would meet. But I wasn’t prepared for the “way” we met. It was a complete mess. I was just told that I was the “chosen one”, and I was running away from everything, when I bumped into you. Imagine meeting you, when I had lost everything. I wanted to be hugged, I wanted to snuggle in your embrace and cry out, but I knew, that was never going to happen. Not anymore.

I don’t know if you or rather anyone would ever read this. I don’t know if I could stop what’s going to happen.

I was chosen to be a suicide bomber. I did not feel that I was lucky, infact when I protested, my uncle’s raped me and hit me badly. My mother and brother were also beaten black and blue till I finally agreed. All I could do was to inform the cops.

I did that at the market street, and I did see you there too Gautam. But I had many more important things to do. I tore my bag, and pretended to pick up the fallen stuff. I did that and also left behind a paper with all the details, of the time, date etc. even about my mother and brother. But I wonder how much they would be able to decipher, because even I did not know much. They always spoke in codes and clues.

I just hope that my mother and brother would be alright. I have asked them to run away, but mother says she won’t go without me. I tried to convince her, and finally she agreed. All I have to do is keep everyone’s attention.

All I pray for everyday, is for you to not be around during that explosion.I hope God hears me out.
Tomorrow Nidhi will cease to exist. Tomorrow, I would be among those charred bodies. But im happy that atleast I was able to pen my thoughts.


Letters to the unknown

Dear Unknown,

It has been around 2 years, and I have failed miserably in finding out your name, or anything more about you. Whenever I tried, I was met with many obstacles. I don’t know if all of them were intentional or just mere coincidence. I’d not stick for either, because you have been way too lucky and inspiring for me.

From the first time we bumped into each other to the very second I sat down to write this, your image hasn’t changed one bit. I can vividly recall, every single detail of the first time we met. Now that I would say was “meant to happen”. How else could you explain all of that last minute changes from my end, am not sure about yours.

I was running towards my department, and the usual route was filled with new students , so I took a detour, via the chemistry department and you happened. All I remember was tripping those three stairs, and holding your hand for support, taking you along , and falling on the hard concrete. But I did not register anything during the fall, except the fear in your eyes, and the slight tremble of your lips. The way a few strands of fruit smelling hair escaped your abaya. You tried hard to let go but we were entangled in a mess. I saw a silent tear threatening to jump from those eyes. That got me back, and I helped you , rather us, stand up. I was about to apologise when you ran away. I couldn’t fathom why, maybe you were embarrassed, but I saw a lot more of fear than embarrassment, or maybe I was just over reacting.

The Chemistry department became my usual haunt, but it was two weeks and I still did not see you. I did ask around, but no one knew much. I also bumped into this guy, who threatened me with dire consequences if I came back for you. I burst into fits of laughter. Was he serious?? He seemed like one of those villains with cheesy dialogues. But his Cold look was enough for my brain, which told me it was better to keep quiet. I walked away, hoping to sight you somewhere, anywhere.

I guess it was my mind that was playing tricks, but I felt I saw you in the market street. It was two months since the episode in college. You were always on the back of my mind, maybe , my mind was in a “lets fool” him mood. But I was sure it was you , I saw you getting inside an auto. I saw the look in your eyes, when the bag bearing grocery tore open, before you entered the auto. You gingerly bent down and picked most of it, when, that lady with you, must have been your mom, shouted at you, to get inside.

The heavens aided my imagination, when you stooped down to pick the supplies. It was as though, the world or rather time came to a standstill. Everyone became a blur of moving objects. God switched on a mute button to my surroundings. It was so quiet that I could hear the rustle of your burka as you sat down to pick up the things, I could hear your every breath, slow and calm. The clanking of your bangles, and a slight fluttering of your hair. Those eyes though without a generous dose of kohl, still looked beautiful. However they seemed to hold a secret.

A ear-splitting honk bought me back to reality, and you were gone . I don’t know whether I’ll get to see you again. But you are so deeply etched in my mind that only death can erase your image.

The news flashed every hour showing blood and gore everywhere. An explosion took place at the railway station this morning. I was supposed to travel at the same time. however, the ever punctual me, woke up late, missed my bus,and missed being roasted alive. I'm sure someone up there must have prayed for me, or maybe we are destined to meet. i pray and am eagerly waiting for the day i get to bump into you again.

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