in the middle of all the madness, the chhay mahine ke liye, the i hate you, the you don't have a character, the hum bhi aapse nafrat karte hain, and so much more, something had grown and become strong, true, immutable. he had become her pati and she his patni... and the little gestures perhaps said that more than anything else. here, take my clothes and throw them in the bag too, i'm coming along with you to bua ji's. he needn't be dragged there against his will any more, his clothes in a different suitcase, his minions beckoned to bring him his shampoo, soap, and aftershave.
real relationships grow in a funny humdrum way, often passing through terrible challenge, especially horrid friction between the two people involved. in fact, i found the real thing is so not like what it is made out to be in stories of love, a little tough but in general full of sweet murmurings and constant gestures of perfect love... surprises, diamonds, cuddles and gentle sweet understanding. nah, it's hellish tough very often and pretty nasty too. yet, something grows, something endures, and something gets sweeter though it may not seem so.
ipk perhaps brought one of the truest portrayals of a feeling that had the span, the bandwidth in it to become a relationship.
ARNAV KUSHI SINGH RAIZADA
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