Don't dream, when you can't make it real. They're only fictions anyway - Moddi, A Sense of Grey

Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance, in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance, when you're perfectly free - Rumi

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Nov 28, 2011

Cardinal Sin

2 a.m is the worst time to work. Some might disagree and say its the best time to work. All is quiet, except for the noise of the generator. No one is there to bother you, you are alone with your thoughts and its easy to focus. Well, who the fuck cares about what some say?
Let me tell you a story about 2 a.m work madness. This isn't a true story. It has nothing to do with me or my friend with whom I wasn't working on a curriculum designing project. 
So, where was I? Yea.
It's 2 a.m. on a Saturday and two girls are sitting together, staring intently at a laptop, trying to work out the kinks in a paragraph typed out on the laptop in front of them and a bottle of Diet Pepsi, Pepsi, a large bar of Dairy Milk, chips and dip between them. Neither of them is actually reading the paragraph; one (lets call her Abeer) keeps alternating between thoughts of sleep, chocolate and the soft, snugly socks that she wants to rub her cheeks against. The other one (Sahar) is thinking of something which Abeer has no clue since she is no mind reader. 
After a few useless minutes of staring, Sahar decides to voice her thoughts and so the following conversation ensues
Sahar: "You know what's really upsetting me? That story about your friend XYZ"
Abeer puts off rubbing the socks on her cheeks for another time and decides to focus on what Sahar is saying. "Um, why? Because she's ugly?"
Sahar: "No! You know, the whole baby, amazing husband, chain of international stores thing!"
Abeer, realizing the uh-oh ness of this moment tries to avoid it getting too serious and decides to be shallow: "Who cares yaar? she is so ugly."
But it's too late. Sahar had gone down the much dreaded path of self-pity. Now, there had to ensue a discussion of how horrid this life was, the sorrow of unrealized dreams and the ache of unrequited love. 
"She's got a baby, a really awesome and rich husband and she has her own chain of clothing stores world over. That just bloody sucks"
"You've already said that," thinks Abeer, but knows not to say it out loud. Sahar's emotional state must be handled carefully; she must try and not say anything that might make her angry or start the water works. Abeer had her own tears to cry in a while and if she started to cry then it would look like she was trying to steal Sahar's thunder. 
"It sucks because she has all that and we don't or does it suck because she's ugly and has all that and we don't? 
Sahar reflects on that statement for a few seconds and answers "Both" There is a slight quiver in her lips. 
Abeer must deflate the tension in the room and soon. This must not result in a break down. 
"Okay, so basically what you're saying is that she has everything we want? And we will never be rich, have a husband and therefore, never have kids?" 
"Kill me now" 
The End


  1. So this is what happened before I arrived. Thank God I missed this :P

  2. haha. no this is after you left.

  3. Ahahahahahaha you forgot the best part!

    Sahar: we're old and ugly and blah blah. She's married with a baby and has her own international chain of stores! *pause for sighing* OMG. Lets do it. Lets open an intl chain of stores!

    Abeer: Wow, you think we have a better chance of having our own chain of stores than being happily married with a baby? Kill me now.

  4. I don't know what you're talking about! This is just a work of fiction :p