A whisper – to Her. . .

I love the way kohl, intensifies your deep brown eyes; whose looks pierces right through my eyes and searches into the deepest corners of my heart. They long. Long for answers, for a quest, for the love I’ve kept caged so far. Those silent eyes speak so much to me. They tell me how your heart skips a beat when our eyes meet. They tell me how you steal glances staring at me when you think I’m not watching, sometimes I just pretend. The way you look at me when I’m lost in my train of thoughts tells me how you wish to hold my cold and numb hand into your soft and warm hands and join me in my quest as my companion.

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Chocolate, You’re Sweeter than chocolates

Heart full of chocolates

I was waiting by the street for her. She had messaged me that morning at 6 AM : “In no particular mood to meet you. BUT I will be coming, just because mom & dad have asked me to.” Part of me was happy as hell. I was about to board my flight for Mumbai when I received this message from her. I felt like dancing and singing aloud with excitement. Part of me, my egoist self; was fuming as hell. What did she mean ? How rude and mean of her to say that she didn’t want to come, but was coming for name sake. Before I could figure out what reply to send, I was seated in my seat and the air hostess was requesting me to turnoff my mobile network as she had caught me typing and deleting things in my mobile. With a smile, I obliged; but not before sending a quick reply “Will be waiting <3”. Finally my love won over my anger and I was happy as a lark. I was grinning through the entire journey and my fellow passengers were looking at me perplexed!

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“Always” : A Short Story

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“Always” was what her diary read.

Holding it so close to his heart, he hugged the words she had written with her favorite red pen. With his watery eyes he had one look at her pen. It was nibbled, as she always did with all her pens. He tried to remember how much he used to love her “chewed” pens back then. Even today he broke down holding her pen and her notebook. Sitting on the floor hugging her words he pecked her pen, the pen which once her beautiful lips had touched. He remembered her lovely face. Eyes that spoke, dimple on her left cheek, and the beautiful mole over her soft lips coupled with her long mesmerizing neck and fragrant hair would drive him crazy to become her Edward Cullen and bite her neck.

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Leaves, Branches and Roots in our Life : Munching Memories

I read a really beautiful story online yesterday and I was so deeply moved, I couldn’t resist sharing it with you all. The essence of the story is :

Life Tree
Life Tree

Life is like a tree. The people in your life are either three things.

Some people are in your life for a short period….

Others there for a few years….

And a few others are there for a lifetime….

They are either a leaf, a branch or a root on your life tree.

Around some time in my life, I was deeply devastated on a personal loss. I wept and begged, but nothing seemed to work. It was like I had fallen deep into a pit, from which I simply couldn’t come out. With every passing day, I fell in deeper and deeper. Then one fine day, old friends came by. They threw me a ladder; and helped me climb, a step at a time. Today, I am so much thankful and indebted to them that my words defy me to express my gratitude.

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