World’s Simplest Rule :)

Her words actually melted me and I realised-

I am so poor that I couldn’t understand world’s simplest rule.

Anisha won soul that day, although she had won my heart many weeks back; she was the one who could make me walk on the path of life and whom I could simply trust upon, with my eyes deeply closed. She was simply the one- the girl of my senses!

I didn’t have words to reply her, but just looked into her eyes; I could feel the pain she is

going through and the toughness she is seeing in her life- Unbearable!

I wished I could hold her in my arms and let her pour all the pain, into my heart, and make me feel that YES, I am the one who is actually hers; that was just I dream that I wanted to fulfilled always and that day, I decided to make it come true one day !

“ponnnnn…. Ponn-ponn….,” bus horn broke up the silence, and she waved up her hands passing me a fake smiled-face, this time, hiding all her pains and tears in her eyes and she turned her face from  me, leaving me all alone in the whole world. I felt that something really special in this world was going far from me and that too in front of

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The day Today !

Today, I am writing the book, rewinding my life in front of my eyes, and pausing each of the scenes to pen them down. The pressure cooker is whistling on one of the Saturdays, where my mother is cooking Rajma – Chawal for me in the kitchen. The romantic music is making my fingers flow on the beats. Mobile phone is kept on silent; I don’t want to affect my concentration.

I stood up and walked towards my cupboard. Few novels lie in stack at one corner; few read and few unread. ‘We’ used to share the best of the romantic love stories; reading together, looking into each other’s eyes when the romantic part in the novel starts. Secretly or unknowingly, I loved this way to reading together. Sometimes, we wished that our lives were so simple like that novel only. She used to kiss me when she read and so did I in my turns. It gradually became our habit to do the same. There had been none of the weekends in those days when ‘we’ didn’t met for reading the romantic tales. Often, she brought some Maggie to eat over. We saw dreams together. We made numberless promises. We loved every morning, because we knew what they were bringing for us. We knew how much we needed each other and we stayed together. Often when I see her, I love myself for the way I felt about her, every time. She used to write her name on my hands, in her cutest way. I loved when she used to drop a blank text over my phone. We walked whenever any of us was sad. She often used to hold my hands when we walked and say, “Until and unless I am holding you, we will make it”. I loved the feel the way we touched. I still can’t stop myself thinking about her. And this is my problem. Thinking too much, for the dreams and for the future, I will never have.  Turning over the countless pages of the novels ‘we’ shared, I found a

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