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Vidhu Kapur Biography

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“School friends are like the bijou of friends. School friends were and are the sorcerers of real happiness. Happiness that once thrived through us, by virtue of the fact that we were untouched by the ways of the world. And happiness that comes through them even today, however sporadic, by the virtue of the fact that the pure and unadulterated impressions of buddy-love that were left on us then, could not be eroded by time or too much awareness or too many new friends.”

“True friends are formed by the pukka love of the heart. And school days were when we still did not understand love, but there was never a dearth of a feeling that exuded from within us towards each other, out of genuine attachment for another, and that energy still surrounds us, which today we call as love. The invisible threads of purity and love we spun around each other once in time, have stitched us together in a way that it has become for life. It has been so many years, and through so many ups and downs, school friends’ calls, even pictures, still give me salubrious happiness and warmth.”

“Who is closest or farthest from my heart, I may not have an absolute answer to. I do not even know who can I refer to as a friend and who I may not. I may not know and may keep scrambling for answers but I know this with complete certainty—the ones I met, metamorphosized me into the person that I am, in some way or the other— this, I know today.”

“While I take a trip down memory lane, I relive my childhood, with none of the friends physically around but still very much around to whisper our moments into my ears. Adorning a bright smile, I tell myself with a proud and contended voice that I hope gets telepathed to my friends-- We have gone down in the history of our lives my friends. History!”

“The dichotomy of life is that it organically tutors us to visualise dreams in childhood but, not necessarily do those dreams come true inch-perfect as we envision them. Life edifies the reality of those dreams. Dreams that may arrive to us in mismatched forms but in essence, only encased differently, sometimes close to what we thought and sometimes not. It is the perspective of discreetly seeing things that come our way, that generates wisdom and happiness within us.”

“Let getting to know people be as “organic” as it is, but also know early on in life, what you envision in a friend, someone who positively prepends to your personality. Introspect, fathom and learn what you want from yourself and then you would know when you meet a person, if that person may help you be the person you want to be. This is how you mindfully seek what you set your eyes on.”

“Communicating our hearts out is the first road to expressing all the love we have in us, towards the one we have it for. Never allow that road to get obstructed with angst, under-handedness, ego, or even demureness. Never! I learn-- communication is not just the elementary aid to becoming friends but also Staying friends.”

“Years start to pass by but our desire for each other does not pass us by. The “spice” that he brings into my life remains as peppery and savoury as ever. The beauty and warmth I bring to his life, remain as enlivening as ever. Together, we cultivate a loving relationship that lights us both.”

“Between pampering each other, hell lot of teasing, making love, and then pampering each other more, we get abundantly used to each other. We never say, every other day, that we know we cannot be apart from each other. We just do not want to be. We like it together and we just know that we shall be together, for life.”

“To talk is as easy as falling off a log. To say what your heart loves. Or, not. But we still do not say it. All we have to do is rummage through ourselves and say it out loud to the people we love. It is all within us—the love, the will, the strength, the courage, and the hope!”

“To say out loud, the love we have in us for the one we have it for does not hurt, any of us. But, to not say out loud, it hurts two of us. It hurts like a thrust to the chest. A thrust so pushing, that it becomes enervating to breathe.”

“Love will always be like love in every clock of time. The measure of love will never differ with time… love has, and always will make the heart flutter and soul fly. Love is the conduit to happiness and life, and shall always be.”

“If there is love, your heart tells you, each day, in nanoscopic things. With time, time tells you. Until then, you love with all your true heart. Be honest, to yourself and to your love. Never lie—it goes against the grain of love, to lie in love. Love him and let him love you. But most of all, talk and understand each other!”

“Food is over-rated when it comes to love. It is not the way to live in someone’s heart. Your oxytocin hormones are not the answer to it either. These are vital elements, but you dwell in someone’s heart with communication. Love thrives on the gospel truth of communication. Everything else shall wane and wither away with time. But, if true communication, is held all through by lovers, it shall make the two, walk hand in hand, together till the end!”

“Roohi- Rumi, what is this love? Rumi- Love is—when, endearingly, I look at you, and you look back at me with equal intensity…! Roohi asserts- Equal or more! Rumi bows with a smile. Rumi- What say, you, my Roohi? Roohi- Love is-- the lifeblood of life! You are my love! You, are my lifeblood!”

“Rumi- He whispers into my ear, “Yes. Special—are YOU, and my love for you, Milady! All I want, is to love you more, each day. To be with you, each day. To bring you flowers and everything that brings forth your sumptuous smile. If it were within my reach, I would make each day special for you. He says with such effortless grace that I go weak in my knees. Roohi- Sir, if you would so permit, I would like a mouthful of your tranquil eyes, squidgy cheeks, and succulent lips. That would bring me smiles and much more.”

“I am not me anymore. He changed me into someone. Someone sentient of feelings. Someone who loved being loved by him. Someone who loved doing things which I would never even dream of doing, but I did, and happily, for him. And, then, one day he thought he could leave. He snaffled me from the world, and then he left me for the world.”

“He did not talk… He just stayed quiet. And left. He could have just talked. The same old Rumi, my Rumi, did not talk and just left me. My Rumi, who could talk to me through his eyes, did not even look into mine, maybe from fear that I would see what was writ large in them. He did not let me. He just left. My Rumi, is no more my Rumi. He is, just Rumi.”

“If only, it were written on men’s faces how they would eventually be, things could work. Relationships would thrive. But my darling, only time is the real deal and the answer to one’s integrity. Time reveals one’s allegiance. People are, who they are. Their intentions, however, either get revealed or change over a period of time. Hard truth!”