Skip to main content

I'm on the waiting list of Princeton University, and Ben Gross

Ben? Academic Nemesis? Nerd? Ben Gross? 
What else one needs? 
Marrying a man who is Ben 📸

Since childhood I've always been fascinated by the characters who are complete geeks. I always fall in love with dorks. I don't mind simping over some innocent guy who has an introverted personality but is bombarded with talents. Have you ever seen them when they talk about something they passionately love and believe in? The aura they hold. My friends told me I resonate a lot like DEVI, I used to think otherwise. Further, I thought of watching it after years of its release to ease depression. Thus, I finished watching “Never Have I Ever,” an Indo American series gauging well the life students hold with no sugar coating stuff. 
Oh! You can cancel the carpentry and swimming skills Mr Paxton holds. 🔥 
I love the details series holds by uplifting all characters in a realistic manner. I relate to friendship bonds, downfalls in different life realms, crushing over the most handsome men, and the urge to [spoiler alert]kiss Ben Gross when he helps Davi to submerge her dad's ashes in the sea when she thinks she lost all hope. I couldn't be crazy enough to be happy for Paxton on getting his admission in a college by his hard work, discipline and dedication and as My friend Ekta says, "PAXTON STRONG WILL OF LEARNING IN ACADEMIC AND NEVER BEING ASHAMED FOR ASKING HELP,” is truly inspiring. 

I can go a day while talking about the mastery of the show but let me hold onto my love- Ben. I manifest a man like Ben. Getting married to Ben will be the happy tears on wedding day. The wedding bells, floral decoration, seat covered in a bow near the small lake with close friends will become the witness. Not going to reveal my wedding journal like Monica Geller. 
It's been days where I call my friends to cry over my panic attacks till I saw this show. Comfort is in fiction that's all I know since then. The tingling in the stomach this show gave me was truly an essence of dreams I own. Uff! The mixture of simplicity, genius and conversation with depths even during a comic interlude made me rejoice in bliss. 
The “Rejection Letter” from the University hit me to core because I've been there many times, and I'm still going through this. Sometimes, I too think of giving up on writing the last letter to college like Devi because my dreams feel like slipping away sands in my hands. I've lost both beautiful and treacherous people with mundane memories but I've not lost myself yet. And that's the win I accept. 
Just like Devi I've many issues [one can see that in my writing ] but I know if it's not a happy ending, it's not my ending. 

If it doesn't, I'll dream Fabiola as my friend when she told paralyzed overachiever Devi these words, 
“One day, you will walk again. If not, I will build you legs.”

Let dreams do the logic! Because they are the only sparkle left; ofcourse after my glowy skin received by my tears, laughter, envy, and gratitude. 

[I'm stopping to build my nest now, just to dream about Ben and Devi in dream University, this time as Professors] 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Pitch, Poetry, and Parallel Times: What a Joka!📽️🍁✍🏼🗓️

कुछ कह दिया होता? कूर्ग का टिकट करा ही लिया होता? शायद सब बेहतर होता। The “if theory” is the wisest of all for the pitch — even for skeptical humans. Time traveling has always fascinated my mind, as it does for many of us. We often wish to leap into the future or alter the past. Last July, I unexpectedly got a call from the city of Jhilmil and Barfi. I felt the emotions exactly as Satyajit Ray’ s movies make us feel, with the metaphysical boundaries of dreams and reality, reminiscent of Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore’s poetry. Before my rotting thoughts could steal all the joy, as they did in the movie Lootera near lakes, I tried to reassemble my gratitude while being in sujood. Literature expertise would lead to an institute talking about consultancy. Phew! I never thought God’s pitch worked like that. If 25-year-old Munazza hadn’t heard that, she wouldn’t have thought of this pun: What a joka! No wonder I’ve stopped writing. Ideas only come in dreams, in waves, often butchered...

11:11? What a stupid wish-granting factory reset ⏳

Scene I   Lights Camera Pen☀️  How lonely and lovely at the same time, To live in a castle of own, How strange and fluffy  The winds from roof Where rain keeps showering  Like dancing along. I keep singing poems While doing the laundary  And hanging the clothes to go dry Some lose their charms Some crankles, some run  Some turn out from black to greyyyyyyyy! I tip toe the work I Like it's an art! It's always always better to do work this way. It's easy, and lovely  And as Mary⁵ and Bert⁶ says,  "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."¹ The people around notice nothing unusual as they're part of their own musicals. The kids love splashing in lakes, the women complete their everyday chores sharing emotions like an art, men walk around with an umbrella so dark making sure they hide their emotions, strangers both men and women whistle along (some hidden, most vague), cats own the roads and walk like Hadid sisters on Victoria's last ramp walk, lea...

A Love Poem, Finally🗺️🏡

Scribble, Scribble, Scribble, Crumbling another poem on paper  without a word, Oh! Wait, scribbling on your skin.🪟 The beautiful arc of the stretch marks—I always wish I had one. Ammi had many; she told me Nani got some after giving birth to her. I stole a man with a scribble [strech marks].  Oh! I can't stop imagining the loud crackles during heavy rain- One in his eyes that I name his cheeks a land of tears, Other outside his window of the slurs people speak for him.  Their ugly mindsets never come close  to even his bin polythene. 🗑️  The man I stole wore long sleeves to hide the stretch marks. 👔 I wore long sleeves to avoid being questioned about my favorite burnt skin, “ Hey, what kind of mark are on your neck and forearms .” 👘 I am tired of telling them  How much I love my burnt skin, As they made me a living story. Along the ocean of unbothered waves, I'm tired of his disgust for hating his stretch marks. Sometimes I carve a line or two, 🖋️...