Moving On..

MOVING ON
Comments :
1. I think I did a good job at capturing how Shilpa is swayed and driven by her emotions, no matter how fickle or "flip" that makes her seem to the world. Also, her tendency to hold grudges, that I personally feel she needs to do away with.
2. This FF is written from Shilpa's perspective, but it might as well be the thoughts of ShiKasians realizing that they need to move on from this HIGHLY TURBULENT SHIP that we have no control over and no information about, now that the show is over.
3. Dedicated to the completely amazing ShiKas fandom. It's not a small deal to ship people whose Individual Fandoms were so utterly hateful to the other person. Also to the people who left..hurt by it all. (“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.” – Mother Teresa )
4. Sorry there's no VG. But the whole story is like a final love letter to him so..
5. God bless both of them. They are good people. May they find true love, true peace, and true happiness. 😭💔

The breakfast was done. She had no engagements today, so she switched on the TV and tried to listen to a few songs. It had only been a few days since her victory and this was the first time she was watching TV properly. As she saw the images on screen, her heart grew heavier and she, agitated. "Bollywood produces so many romantic songs.. seriously yaar..there are other things in life too.."

She had dreamt of him. They were talking. They were happy. She really liked talking to him. But he was not there when she woke up. She had lied on her bed as tears silently came out of her two eyes.

Now all these songs talking passionately about love and hearts were like emotional torture. All these characters in love..

I was so much happier before this show.

She knew the show had changed her life. Revived her career. She was Shilpa now, not Bhabhiji. Offers would improve, hopefully. She might even get a half-decent film with something substantial to do. But she was dying inside.

He didn't even bother calling once. Not even a courtesy call?

He does not have your number.

He does! And even if he doesn't, he could ask his people to find out!

For the tiniest second, she wanted to call him herself..But why would she..what was there to say..

She refocused on the TV. A Caucasian girl was dancing with a group of boys on a remix version of an old song. She looked great. He would definitely like her. This thought made her angry, and she immediately changed the channel.

I should've focused on meditation in school. She remembered her teacher saying that meditation would calm your mind and center your focus. So that you don't let stray thoughts divert you from what you must do. Stray thoughts telling you that you might've fallen in love on National Television..and from what little she had heard, people noticed..

We didn't even do or say anything. I did nothing! Nothing happened! I won the show! I defeated him!  Nothing more to it!

There was no way around this frustration. Towards him, her love was always accompanied by other emotions--jealousy, rivalry, anger, and a general sense of unease over how he was. How he wanted to be with everyone. How, despite everything, it made her feel like just another human being he had been forced to interact with in that house..

That's exactly who you are to him. Everything else is a misinterpretation.

She had come to like him so very much. He was a child at heart, really. It was so cute. In a different set of circumstances, they could've at least been friends..

I could never be friends with a man like him. He is cruel. He took my show away from me.

She could feel her anger returning. It was even worse now. Because she also had warmed up to him. He was not a stranger anymore. She knew him. She understood him. There were not many things in life she was sure about..but she knew that he, underneath all his crafty plans and careful calculations, was a good human being. And that only made it worse.

Worse. I have seen worse times.

She remembered Romit. He had been dragged back into her life again. Her brother had told her that he expressed support for her and called her a good person in an interview he gave. She couldn't help but laugh.

If I was a good person, he would've married me. If I was a good person, he would've fought harder for us.

Everybody has good things to say to you when you're successful. She was so exhausted of people running away from her and saying good things about her at the right moment. To the media, of course. This, however, was an industry rule. Her father had been right. She was not cut-out for this place. Maybe, I'm not even cut-out for the world.

Her eyes fell on her father's photograph. His kind eyes looked at her. Before she knew it, she was sobbing.

She calmed down after a good cry but her mind drifted back to him. She was remembering. And the more she thought, more the heartache grew.

This nonsense must stop. She reminded herself of the world around. There were bigger things in life. She had an old mother to take care of. Family and friends to love. She was going to focus on what she had, rather than waste her time on mindless fantasies.

She called her friends and made plans for shopping.

She was a survivor. No matter how long it took, she knew that eventually she would be fine.