Every time I get on a long-distance train
My inner Simran steps in hope
That this is the trip I’d meet the Raj of my dreams.


I’ve ridden through mountains, lakes and deserts
Jatin-Lalit on background score (through a USB!)
My neck craning a little higher at every second bend.


Seeking. Hoping. Waiting.


And it has taken me my whole life to understand that
maybe I’m not the Simran of my story
That maybe I’m the goddamn Raj.


And that instead of waiting in gold fields for him to come rescue me
I have to get on a plane and go knock some sense into Raj.
As many times as it takes till he gets, that this is the DDLJ story we’ve both been looking for – just a ‘lil different.





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