1. Nazreen – Get to know her


Nazreen – Before ‘IT’ happened

She was furious. Her flatmate had made her watch ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’ [1] (means ‘something, something happens’), yet again. She didn’t like. She hated it. She didn’t believe in love. That was for the fools. Her mother had taught her well. Her elder sister’s break-up a strong lesson. Her friends incessant tears, on her break-up were a painful reminder. Love – that was for the fools.
Nazreen lived with a constant frown on her face. Why was the world so crazy? Why did everyone want to fall in  laaauuoov? Shitty Indian cinema, selling caramel flavoured love stories, over and over again. Shitty Indian romantic novels! Weren’t there emotions more powerful than love? Why was every Indian, right from their childhood subjected to this demon called love. Everywhere, be it advertisements, or serials or movies or books. Love – what the f***!
Nazreen’s life was had a furious pace to it. She had just joined a respected management consulting company. She wanted to make it big. She was ambitious. She knew she would never use her body or her charm to grow up the ladder. She wasn’t that kind of woman. She would do it the hard way. She wanted to be nothing less than the CEO-equivalent of that company. And she wanted to get there before she hit 30.
Nazreen’s days always began at 8:00 AM. She would wake up and watch NDTV [2] profit. The world of finance and stocks mesmerized her. She then quickly read the day’s newspaper. She then bathed. By 10:00 AM, she would be in office. She would check her email. She would make her to-do list. By 10:30 AM, her boss would be in office. Accidentally, she would always be at the xerox machine next to her boss’ cabin. Well, not really accidentally. She knew that the boss knew. The boss knew that she knew that he knew. Both simply continued with the charade. The boss was in his mid-30’s with a booming career and settled family. He always appreciated enthusiasm and sincerity in his sub-ordinates. Nazreen scored high marks on both.
Nazreen’s day would end by about 8:00 PM everyday. But she never left office before 10:30 PM. She made sure she was the last to be seen leaving office. After work-hours, she used the remaining time to read articles. She wanted to improve her knowledge. She knew information could be a powerful differentiation.
However, that was not the only reason she left late. She hated going back to her home. Her flat-mate was so in love with a boyfriend who live thousand miles away. Love – that was for the fools. She just didn’t admire the conversations at home. Her flatmate’s banter always was like: “I want to gift him a shirt”. “I wonder if he is thinking about me now”. “I love the way he smiles”. “I so…” Damn. Love – what the f***.
❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Nazreen – After ‘IT’ happened

Nazreen’s face always sported a smile these days. She loved the way the breeze flirted with her hair locks, always trying to undo her carefully done hairstyle. The honking of the cars on the road, became like a song and she felt like stopping her bike, right there in the middle of the road, and begin dancing. Everyone in her office looked beautiful to her, right from the security guard at the gate to the guy who served her food in the cafeteria. Everyone smiled at her, as if they recognized the secret behind the glow on her face, and like everyone concurred with her choice.
The brightness of the sun faded in comparison to his face which always lighted up on seeing her. Although he snored, she would get up at times in the night and look at him just lying their, in all his innocence, just like an infant. The way his eyebrows twitched when she put the end of her stroll in his ears just slightly like it were a feather; the way he would wake up every morn to kiss her on the forehead or come rushing to the bathroom and only then open his eyes; the way he would be lost in those romantic movies on TV; the way his muscles flexed when he stretched his body after lying down on the bed; the tautness of his shapely calves when she held them as he entered her with vigour; all of these and much more, made her life more colorful than Photoshop ever could. When he was in her, she would moan shamelessly, loudly; as if she was born to do just that.
She would wake up by about 8:00 AM everyday and lie lazily on bed, allowing him to come kiss her good morning. Once he was up, she would get to the bathroom and freshen up. Then she would come and by force of habit switch on NDTV profit. But she was no longer tracing the ups and downs of the stock market curves. She would banter all along, taking a break only to glance at him every now and then. Knowing that he was exercising right next to her; that masculine smell of sweat, would envelop her in a tight embrace. She didn’t care what tomorrow would bring; all she wanted was to be living in today, right next to him. She was ready to shout out that phrase, thrice ‘Qubool Hai’ (implies I do, it is the phrase employed in Islamic marriage rituals).
Her ambition regressed to the dark crevices of her mind, as she had found a muse that would consume her, consume every second of her breathing life. She no longer got to office by 10:00 AM; as she always ensured that his clothes were ironed, he had his breakfast before hitting office. She never stayed back beyond her working hours any longer, as she wanted to rush home, cook dinner, make the bed and be in time to open the door when he came in. The soul of a woman was made for love, and she realized it every second of every day, as his presence kept growing in her life.
…..[contd]
LoL – Lots of Love,
U;Shri.
Prefix Edition:
None.
Suffix Edition:
❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
Original unedited version first blogged on 20120917
Footnotes:
[1] Kuch Kuch Hota Hai is an Indian romantic musical movie which released in the late 1990s, and went on to become one of the greatest hits of Indian Film Industry. Read More
[2] NDTV profit is an Indian new channel, featuring economic, political and business news.

Photo Attributions:
photo credit: Lucia Whittaker via photopin cc

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s