Lovestruck

By Pratyush Madhav

Raj and Riya meet on the college campus. As usual, in love stories, both of them felt the spark between them. But later this casually gets deeper down, into the soul. They have their beautiful time that they spend together, and they have their cruel villain too, to fight with.Life plays a cruel card on this diverse couple of North and South India, as they meet their destiny by playing and acting their part in this game.As things again get better with time, they have their wonderful life. But, as usual, life had to throw in some stones in this already not so calm pond, to make even more massive waves, disturbing the flow of their lives. Raj Pours his heart into his diary which will make you spend a little of your time figuring out some of their secrets. Join Raj and Riya on this roller coaster of emotions, and take a peep into the secrets buried in the depths of this bloody journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Rose Publishers
• Release date: Oct 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9789354272493

Book preview

Prologue

I need a psychotherapist, kept shouting a 24-year-old me, to the extent that my dreams revolved around this very thing.

This break-up had thrashed me so bad that her name on my lips tasted like an earthquake that read an 8 on the Richter scale, wreaking havoc in my mind, body, and soul.

Anything related to her, even the smell of the perfume she wore, would trigger me to try and cut my vein and give up on my life.

Frustration...! Depression…! Total Devastation…!

It was all happing in Aanand Vihar, Delhi. Bhagwaan knew what madness the capital of the nation had to watch out for in the future.

For the reader’s knowledge,

I was one step ahead of lunacy.

This is how my words can best define the scenario as.

ACT I

DELHI

On a hot, steamy summer day, five friends gathered together to soothe their thirst with cold beverages at a famous Punjabi lassi shop in the New Delhi railway station.

I, the one who had to catch the train, playfully inquired in a humorous tone from the Punjabi pehelwan,

To Bhaiya, ab ki baar kis ki sarkaar.

The pehelwan laughed at my question and replied Wo to Rab hi jaane, Bhai, with a rumble in his voice that shook his luxuriant beard.

I giggle at his reply and ordered five chilled lassi beverages, then walked back to my ‘gang’, who eagerly awaited the opportunity to quench their parched throats with the cold drinks.

ONE, TWO, THREE, CHEERS!!! we exclaimed.

And with that, we consumed our drinks with gusto. Suddenly, the train received the green signal and blew its horn. Upon hearing it, I theatrically jumped aboard the train and bid my friends a hearty farewell. My four friends waved back to me with a hint of moisture in their eyes.

As the train pulled away from the station, I went back in to find my seat. Gazing out of the window as the city whizzed by, I contemplated,

Reaching an end, to begin another journey.

ACT II

BENGALURU

The Karnataka Express reached Bengaluru railway station at 1 P.M with an estimated delay of about two hours. This delay shattered the illusion of discipline and punctuality I had about South Indian Railways.

Now, picture this: my heart, nestled in my chest, already ached, not just because I had left behind the comforting embrace of my beloved Hindi-speaking world. No, it was also due to my daunting journey into this unfamiliar world with its strange languages, unfamiliar culture, quirky people, and, above all, the ever-present aroma of Idli and Sambhar.

I was already a week late for reporting on my college campus. My dreams were haunted by the trollish voice and face of my H.O.D, and let me tell you, the nightmares filled with the face of a trollish-looking South Indian mustached macho-man were horrid and terrifying.

Collecting my baggage and the additional boxes of sweets lovingly stuffed to the brim by North Indian mothers, which refused to fit in my bags or be carried easily in my hands, I reached the restroom for a quick freshen-up.

As I looked up at the mirror, trying to adjust my long, damp, messy, and tangled hair, I could already see that I had acquired 10% of South Indian genes in my physique. My skin was clear, yet I still couldn’t feel refreshed and could not get rid of the infectious smell of Idli and Sambhar from all around me.

Rushing out of the restroom, I looked around for an available cab. I took out my cell phone to book one, only to find tens of missed calls from family and friends, as if I were going to war, and it might very well be true, remembering the face of my HOD.

Quickly suppressing the urge to call back home, I booked a cab for the college campus and impatiently waited for it to arrive.

To calm my nerves, I called the cab driver on his cell phone.

Hello, I greeted.

In reply, I received a weird Hellaw.

Quickly brushing aside the urge to make a comment about the accent, I asked the driver to reach my location as quickly as he possibly could.

Fortunately for me, the cab arrived quite soon. I dragged my luggage over to the car. As I looked around, the driver examined me and asked,

Kidhar se aaya Hindi wala.

I ignored his question and urged him to load up my luggage and depart for my college.

I did not feel like engaging in conversation with the driver, as I was panicking inside and thinking about the upcoming conversation with my HOD.

In an attempt to calm myself, I leaned back into the seats and plugged in my earphones to listen to some soothing Hindi songs, distracting myself from the chatter and noise all around me.

Interrupting my blissful mood, the driver inquired me about my urgency and why I wanted him to rush through Bengaluru's afternoon traffic. Ignoring his attempt to start a conversation, I simply urged him to drive as fast as he could.

I tried to regain my calm, but it had been completely trashed by the irritating driver's annoying chatter. Trying to curb my annoyance, I started peering out of the cab's window at the towering structures of urban Bengaluru. However, apart from all the high rise buildings, nothing seemed particularly different from the life of Delhi or Mumbai.

I still don’t understand all the hype people create about this city.

As these musings swirled through my mind, the driver once again interrupted my thoughts to announce our arrival at my destination.

Swiftly parting ways with my fare, I hauled my luggage towards the impending lecture, delivered by none other than my H.O.D.

Spying around as I entered the college campus in a hurry, my inquisitive eyes fell upon a group of not-so-attractive girls from the new 1st-year batch. Lamenting once again at my fate of being on this campus, I made my way towards the H.O.D’s office. A very scary and unsettling thought soon crossed my mind.

‘I don’t think I am going to have a good final year.’

ACT III

MEETING THE H.O.D

I was a week late into the semester and almost 45 minutes late into the day. I gasped, trying to catch my breath. I had just realized that I had only a few minutes left to submit my apology and get it signed so I could attend further classes in the semester.

I dashed like Usain Bolt aiming for the gold medal at the Olympics. I rushed through the corridor which connected the classrooms to the HOD’s office.

But