Sheru does not like Honey Singh’s singing. Sheru believes Singh does a lot of talking in the name of singing. But once, Singh’s song, rather talk, celebrated a breakup. And Sheru liked Singh for the first time, because Singh vindicated his stand.
Sheru too had thrown a breakup party, sixteen years ago.
And while Sheru’s friends made a hearty meal out of a cooked goose, Sheru urged them to explore the wisdom in tuu nahin aur sahi, aur nahin aur sahi.
No need to grow beards, or to drown one’s sorrows in a cup, or take the extreme step.
Those feeling ditched in relationships sit in darkened rooms, take to smoking, or listen to melancholic ghazals, and sheds tears. The mourning goes on for a few days.
Finally, friends arrive at the request of worried parents, and the individual resumes normal activities, though reluctantly, and under the strict vigil of friends and relatives.
As they say, time is a great healer: the wounds of separation heal slowly, but heal they do.
But the scars remain.
While bey wafa partners enjoy their new-found and green pastures, those left in the lurch take the betrayal to heart, and pine away.
This is unfair, and that is why Sheru went for the breakup party, much to the surprise of his friends.
The world is much too small a place. People run into each other.
One day, Sheru saw her.
No words, just a glance.
She lowered her gaze, and Sheru smiled.
She had put on a lot of weight, and grew conscious of it, sure that Sheru had not failed to notice.
She just stood there, rooted to the spot.
Sheru walked away.
It was lunch time, but Sheru had lost his hunger.
But out came Sheru’s mother and dragged Sheru to the kitchen.
The bat toor and mujj chetin was irresistible.
Sheru ate his fill. Sheru took a nap.
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