Meanings

"It's you” she replied.

 He kept on rereading her message.

 He was confused between "is" and "was" for her "it's".

#TwentyWordsStory

My Best Friend

I met this gal three years ago. My first impression for her was "my god! She's so weird!" The way she ate, the way she walked and the way she talked was so different that I was attracted towards her. Then the usual talking began. We two didn't even realize when we became friends then best friends then roommate and now I call her as my daughter. Though, I say so for fun as she's a little irresponsible and I have to take care of her like reminding her to carry metro card!

It's her birthday today. She's away from me enjoying summer vacations so I shared this video and poem with her as they belong to her. Then, my stomach tickled and I decided to share it here too.

I never knew I will have her

That smiling face, shining eyes and curved hair

My daughter as i call that gal

My best friend as they see her

"Don't hide your problems", she says to me
then I say it all making even tears free

When we look into each other eyes
there's a sea, full of love, care
and of talks as we had a journey of miles

small small fights that we have
over unwashed mug, untidy room
notes sharing and going out
but they ended before our walk in the moon

same age same health and same height
is what we have if looked from outside

but what we have common, is beyond these things
innocence, emotions, fears, likes, mind and understandings

My "You"

"Now, listen to me very carefully", Rohan directed her love, Nisha, while explaining their project on fluid mechanics to her.

She was lost in his thoughts looking at him with her eyes full of love and the discussion going over her head.

He took a pause, looked at her from the book and asked, "Got me?"

She amorously replied, "Yeah! I got you...and you?"

The fluid in mechanics took a romantic turn. He took her in his arms from the desk she was sitting on and said, “Yeah! My “you””.

She giggled and they smiled looking in each others' eyes.

#100WordsStory

Expected Friends

I had a friend, a mother like a friend whom I used to admire with her ability to care. With time my passion for her grew up, I saw her as a mother figure in the hostelry where I dwelled together with her in a common room. Only after our friendship picked up its top it started coming down; her work, her problems more precisely her own life took over. It's no harm though. But lamentably, I became a "time-thing" for her. 

Now, what's this "time-thing"? To be fair, you may not encounter this word in the dictionary. I have simply invented it while resting on my bed thinking over the ceiling of our friendship.

It simply means that she was with me whenever she was free of everything and everyone. Yea! There's nothing wrong with it. But, I was nowhere when my lil heart encountered a lil break. She was nowhere when I was gone away in solitude to dissolve as much as I can. She was nowhere when I needed her for some words of advice. She was nowhere.......... I tried calling her. But her life's battle overshadowed me and I kept as a silent bird as I appreciated her courageous path of sharing her battle. Then came the spring of her life, I quietly waited for her to listen to me now. But this time her joy overshadowed me. I was again pulled up stakes with my words inside.

There's nothing like I didn't have any other ally; she really means a lot to me. In fact, I have every relation with me which a gal of my age has. I lived a contented life with lovely bonds around me. I have many ears to listen to me, my new roommate whom I conceive my daughter now, my family and my rolling diary. Beside ears, they offer a simple level of understanding too. I admire their way of knowing me so well. But the problem with me or any other human is that we "expect". Yes, it's where I failed. I expected a lot. She's someone who doesn't tell her worries easily and I respected her privacy. But I suppose, she forgot that I loved to share mine with whom I love. She blanked out to take me. She blanked out to read my eyes.

I recollect an incident of this New Year where I was excited to celebrate it with my acquaintances. They readily agreed. But slowly, as the day came, the day on which we had decided to celebrate, there was a minor reluctance in their eyes. I felt so bad. I, so badly, wanted a change. While we're leaving I had a heated argument with my other friend. I expected her to say something, but she moved forward, leaving us two arguing. I felt so alone. She had no more belonged to me. I was so silly to realize it. I compelled her staying with me, but she could never do. I was so stupid to realize it then also. She was getting disappear from our casual CCD outing, our crazy shopping, our nagging naps...... She vanished and appeared when she had no one other than me. I have moved around to be her "time-thing".

On a very fine day, not very old, I finally realized it; I have abandoned our friendship. I vanished as well. I don’t want to burden her bonds. It’s not like she’s wrong. But I thought, I have been so unsuccessful to understand her behavior. The reason, I suppose, is that we have outgrown each other. Maybe my thinking and my decision is wrong but for now, it’s making me feel a little strange as well. I felt happiness in biding her "Goodbye" though I still consider her as my friend, but the difference is I expect "nothing" from her as a friend of mine; I'm not estimating her a friend of mine from what she was to what she is either. It would be so strange that I will never listen to her, in that way, anymore; I will never turn childish to her now; I will never force her to stay with me; I will never ask her to go out with me, we're expected to be friends. If she is happy being without me, then why should I follow her through my silliness? If she couldn't understand me, then how can we talk or at least give a worth smile at each other whenever we see? Nevertheless, we're still friends. Maybe, we've certain barriers to be rooted for our friendship. Nowadays, we're just "Expected friends" for ourselves, aren't we?

Smiles

“Did you bring my colors?”

“Sorry doll, I forgot”

She was turning to leave when he said, “But there’s something in my pocket”.

She chortled and asked “What??”

He gazed his daughter’s smile as she opened her colors’ box.

Lives

I am writing too much #micropoetries these days, I know. But this is what I can do with my little time to write and so much to write . Actually, I adore simplicity and preciseness in any writing that's one of the reason I end up with such "chotu si" (little) work of poetry. Hope you enjoy reading it!

I

His words

Were her life

But she didn't know

When silence blows

Such lives

Dies...

My Diary

Diary, a very meaningful word, which can make me excited, sad, insecure and emotional all together by what I've in me. Yes, my diary is all about me. It reflects the petals of my day-to-day life, along with my random thoughts and the help of words: a world of my limitless freedom where I can understand myself without the fear of others. Briefly saying, if you’re a stranger to me, the best way to understand “myself” would be through my diary; it may sometimes explain about you- my observations aren't actually your reality- at anywhere.

As per majority of people's understanding of a diary, it is simply a notebook in which you can write down your-own secrets, experiences, emotions, quite natural crushes (maybe, un-natural) you've with those guys, valuable memories, unexpected anger on a person or that “thing”, success as well as failure stories, regrets... and the list goes on like a chain... They’re countless actually as you see; writing about yourself is indeed an effortless task.

I got my first-diary while I was studying in fourth standard. Nevertheless, I loved writing diaries even before. Rewinding back, back...back... even before fourth standard, the one who has “acted” similar to a personal diary of mine was mom, my beloved billi, I call her so. As a naughty-little gal, when I reach back home from school in the evening, she was the one who listened to my innocent-silly dialogues, those intended antics, my anger on that rude instructor, my full-time-engagement with friends and a cooked up story of why I didn't fill out the lunch she’s given me those days. It was through her, or she was the authentic symbol of my lively diary, those days. And so, after fourth standard, once I got a diary of my-own. However, the contents in it were mostly "public" oriented ones. It was peculiar that my whole family loved reading my journal. And to my surprise, I never objected to it; what’s so wrong in reading their daughter or sister? As the time passed, my diary slowly turned in to too personal and to be precise, it coincidentally turned directly in to electronic diary as I used to write it down in my lappy. Later, I got one smarter-advanced cell, even more than me or any other human-being, whom I trusted to share my secrets and other peculiar thoughts in me. Meanwhile, I found that I can lock it safely, and thus avoid others to read myself all because of the updates given by the technological era; my diary got a password which is always safe with me. But they (my family, ya know) never objected against what I've done and later, my diary writing got a shred of "Childhood memories" along with my kiddish pictures in the album below the tv's drawer.

Now, let's come to the present.

My diary has changed again. Must say, it really changed a lot. Though, the same-life is still there; it’s my friend now. The day feels incomplete if I don't narrate my day to it. My whole secrets are slowly getting written on this new-diary, the one I cannot have before; it's safe even without a password, I know. And my current diary has an advantage, or madness! It gives me advice, laugh out loud at my silliness, cries with me, feels the real me in me and write to me, regardless of where I’m. Maybe, this journal will also vary with time, God knows. But it feels right to have someone who is always ready to listen to you no matter what the time and situation. As always I am in love with my diary.  It will hold a special spot in my affection as my other diaries have.

I love you, My diary!

edited by: Rahul Ashok

Desires

"Please Aarti, Don't go!", Abhay continued to entreat holding her arms tightly while she remained a silent sea staring the empty shore.

"I love you Aarti, I love you",he said squeezing and shaking her arms fiercely.

She blinked her glittering eyes and looked deeper into his eyes and asked,"You said it a thousand time Abhay, but why did i never feel it?"

He freed his hold and stood mortified, with his materialistic lovable belongings laughing at him, watching her go.

He didn't lose his love infact, he realized that his love is money not her.

About To Cry

The weather was cuddling the wind within its mighty embrace of black giant clouds. Trees seemed to enjoy drenching with the icy cold drizzle and the wind appeared to be an orchestra for them to dance. I was spellbound to see nature playing with itself. I craned my neck outside the window to observe it more closely but then I realised I was in class. So, I desperately prayed for it to over soon. As it ended, I jumped off my desk with excitement and asked my beloved bench-mate if she could accompany me for a walk with nature, her eyes instantly said yes. But then she remembered that she had a project work to complete so, unwillingly she said no and gloomed. I cheered her up by saying, “I will get someone else for company, you concentrate on your project, it’s more important”. We both chuckled. With that, I left the college happily for hostel.

As soon as I reached hostel, the sweet drizzle turned into heavy rain and I scowled as I never found rain as wonderful as people describe, in a way, I avoided it.

In my hostel’s room, I waited for the damn rain to cease. Meanwhile, I fixed my eyes on door to grab one of my hostel buddies for the stroll. The rain slowed its pace and my friend came to my room. I was thrilled as in my mind I had planned a picture-perfect walk. With child-like-wide smile, which I usually showered on whom I love, I asked her to join me. Her breath doubled, eyes got wider and folds conquered her forehead. Then, She bellowed, “I’m busy, I will not go anywhere” and left. From my imaginary picture perfect walk she freed my hold with a jerk. The pampered child in me, who used to raise voice but had never witnessed such a loud pungent reply, immediately withdrew the smile and replaced it by a quivering disgust.

For few minutes, I sat stock-still there on my bed busy understanding what’s happened. As the rain again started to blare, my heart replayed all the moments in which we’re together, all our outings for which I have sacrificed my business, my tiredness, my incomplete writings……., and the moments where she has made me feel like a family. Her love and care for me stood in front of my eyes fighting with her, a moment ago, words that have left me today nagging. I locked my door and sat on the corner of my bed. I unveiled a small portion of window to get a glimpse of world. I craved for her to be beside me at that very instant. My heartfelt heavy, throat chocked and my eyes blurred.

I was about to cry.

But then, someone knocked at my door. It was her asking for broom. I quickly packed my tears inside the eyes even before coming out, pasted a plastic smile and gave her the broom. She left. The clamour suppressed outside and inside once again bawled. The tears that were waiting to be shed finally welled arcing through my cheek before falling. The cold breeze outside still tempted me. I consoled my heart not to get disheartened and asked it to have a walk with me after a sound sleep as the whole incident left me dizzy. But I felt enlightened with this thought as I liked walking alone. What's the last time I talked to myself? What's the last time I searched for the brightest star? What's the last time I searched shapes in clouds? What's the last time I had laughed on me? These questions made me to laugh at myself for searching for a company when the only person I needed to spent time was me. In an attempt to keep everyone happy I had forgotten to keep myself happy. While networking with "what's-on-your-mind (facebook)", "What's-happening (twitter)", "Last-seen-at (whatsapp)","+1s (google+)" etc, in one word, strangers, I had got disconnected from my own self. I stood up from my bed. Once again, peeped out of the window and asked the nature, “Would you join us?” The wind turned swift, the cloud cleared and sun gazed from its puffy cotton ball disguise. It appeared as if they’re saying, “Yes”. And a strange smile ran on my face.

Happily, I dozed off.

Her Rebirth

This story has been written from the main character's perspective i.e. Megha,

Enjoy Reading!

"It had been an exhausting day for me, as usual. Another big deal was waiting to be concluded. Everything was done. Most of staff had already left except some, who were on their extra shift, and my secretary. I looked up at the clock, 7.00 pm.  My mother face flashed in my mind. I sighed as I recalled my mother’s words," Come back early today, I am making Dosa for you". She had come to my three- bedroom-hallow-apartment after almost seven years. But I couldn't make it to leave early. A tide of anger rose and fall inside me as my contemplation shifted from my mother’s woeful eyes to some documents on my desk that required my authorization. In a bid to release some steam I rose my chair and moved to the window and gazed at the down pour outside for few minutes before drawing the curtains to veil the diamond rain drops falling to dissolve on my cabin's windowpane. I ordered a steaming hot coffee, took a stroll around the cabin and finally again sat on my chair. But something inside me was unsettled. I let my eyes wander around my cluttered table when the small business card caught my attention, "Umeedh Bhavan, an orphanage”. In my ears the words of lady, from the orphanage that came for some donation stuff, was reverberating," There are many children without mother and many mothers without children, Ms. Megha".

My cell phone buzzed. I saw my best friend picture smiling within the frame bounded by that calling ring. As soon as I picked up the call, She started scolded me like she used to do when we were in college and I have forgot her birthday. A smile ran on my otherwise stubborn face but as she continued with her talks, I felt getting detached. Her voices were turning into a rattle with every bit of my strangling thoughts. It seemed hard to continue the conversation so I ended it abruptly with an easy excuse knowing that it would hurt her and me too.

As I sat propping my head on my hands, peon knocked to place my coffee on the table. I looked at the clock again, 7.45 pm. I was still couldn’t drag myself away from my desk to go home. Then, my secretary entered and told me that she's leaving. I, hastily, said yes and tried to sign the papers that I needed to handover to her. In the haste to sign it, I spilled the hot coffee all over the documents and I instantly yelled, "Shit! Papers!". She, with a bizarre expression on her face asked," Don't you love yourself?"I felt like the floor beneath me has faced an earthquake. I shivered and a cold sweat drenched me. I could hear the rain falling outside. "Don't worry Ma'am, I will print another copy", she continued after an awkward silence. Completely shaken by her words, I replied, "its okay, you may go now, and it’s already late". She replied politely" Thanks Ma'am and take care of the burn". Her words made me aware of the burn. But the burns were not the only hurt I received. Her comment, ” Don’t you love yourself?”, stung me even more.

The last time I had endured such anguish was when,

Seven years ago......

"Mom, I want this child" brimming confidence

"Don't be mad, we have a society to answer" shrugs

"Is society more important than your child's child?" An unanswered question

"Yes, when your child's father has left you and you're too young" voice trembles

"But my child is innocent and I am still here for it!" Strong words

"Megha, Don't forget I’m your mother" Voice reaching its height

"And I will be a mother!" Words trying to win

"Megha......" Slap

 A mother triumphed over a mother to be.

With the conversation that day, I lost my child and a part of myself. From that day, my life took a harsh turn where I was like a machine which couldn't feel anything so as not to feel the pain and guilt. I never blamed my mother or that man as they did their part but the one who didn't was me.

I picked up the visiting card and "What’s stopping me now?", I asked myself. "Exactly, nothing", the reply came. Then I opened my laptop but this time to follow my heart. It’s a long time that I again felt my lost thrill. I looked at my burn and smiled as it has extinguished a burn within. My fingers trembled from excitement as I typed the website address. And my renowned typing speed turned surprisingly slow like it’s was my first try at typing. The time it took to load made my heart to throb. And then, I finally the moment arrived when I clicked on "Adopt A Child".

Five years later.....

"Tie your seat belt, Khush"Mom, Chaya said I wrote it wrong but I didn't. See"

"What Khushi?"

"My homework diary, Mom"

"What? Gimme then"

I felt like thousands of crackers were bursting in the sky. I felt a missing contentment to finally accomplish me as I read the details filled by my daughter on the first page,

Mother's Name: Ms.Megha Sharma

Father's Name: Ms.Megha Sharma

I pulled my daughter into a tight hug, "It’s correct, Khushi".

I wiped away my tears on my sleeve still hugging my daughter."

Edited by:  Mr.K M Idamari

Best Friends

UBC Day 11

With tears , memories of her moment ago ended love story are falling on the paper, on which she was writing with all her anger,"Love?" but to wipe her tear off with her hands, she placed the paper beside her.

Her best friend came whom she has called, as she always did whenever she was in trouble or sad, and in a furtive manner, he sat next to her.

He gazed her crying then picked up the paper lying there to read and something inside him made him to write,"Love? love is care" and put it back to its place with the ice cream he has bought for her.

From her tears window, she got the ice cream glimpse so motioned to pick it up when she read her paper but with answer this time then, looked above to find her best friend sitting close to her.

Her screams got louder, her tears got thicker and a sudden emotional vibe overpowered her which ended her in his arms.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekened, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Sisters' Situations

She said,"So, you're still with your cellphone?"

I smiled.
She said,"This book is still lying here"

I smiled.
She said,"Have you brought that novel for me"

I smiled.
She said,"Oh! Why I'm asking you, of course not!"

I smiled.
She said,"Let me tell you, there's a world outside your twitter"

I smiled.
She said,"Look, What you have done with your hair"

I smiled.
She said,"Tomorrow come with me ,you need a haircut, hold your colors, Keep them in their place, now"

I smiled.

She said,"Why this bookmark is on the floor, should I throw it away?"

I smiled.
She said,"Why are you so serious? You behave so ..umm..i mean..Can you leave your laptop for a second? You don't even talk to me"
I didn't smile.
She said,"Why are you so busy with craps?"
I didn't smile.
She said,"Are you alright?"

[A susurrant  pause]

I said," c'mon come here, lemme show you this picture!"
She got excited with the stressful concern fading away.
"Wow i want this too. it's so funny"
We both chuckled.
Slowly, the air got filled with sisters' giggles and gossips.

UBC Day 10

They

She was standing gazing at the empty sky,
He came close to her and stood beside her.
She realised his smell but didn't shower any response. 
Slowly,he slid down his hand on her palm till a grip was born. 
She disturbed her dissolving eyes from sky to admire their hold.
Then, again dedicated her eyes to darkness.
Both looked at the sky now twinkling with stars.
She smiled and a tear trickled down her cheek.
And he released his crinkle from forehead.

Who's She?

She has just come from her working place.

Now she doesn't have anything to distract her spaghetti thoughts.
She is feeling like a lava of anger inside her ready to be burst.
She looks around to ascertain her empty vicinity.
Once assured, she feels like crying with all afflictions hidden by her smiling disguise.
But wait, Her tears refuse to come.

She feels like bawling on her deceiving tears.
It seems like her tears' sea has been overlaid by a desert where only dry winds of screams can blow..
She feels a void inside, left by her heart
Her soul starts yelling but then she is too busy sorting out her anger in mind, first.
She looks around once again.
This time her loneliness laughs at her which she has chosen for herself.
She feels like snatching the curtain rudely apart
She feels like shearing her beloved pillow away
She feels like throwing her love, books, in a one go.
She feels like breaking her favorite coffee mug into pieces as much as possible
She feels like dropping her quintessential cellphone on the floor with all her mighty power.
She feels like splashing her wonderful water all around to resemble her messing thoughts.
She feels like burning those smiling faces of her hanging on wall which seems now as if insulting her present.
She feels like painting her regular admirer, her mirror, with black.
She feels like hurting the world with her sharp words in a way they have hurt her immensely.
She feels like ending every strings she has woven with people in her lived life.
She wants every light flickering around to be set off forever,inviting darkness of which she was once afraid of.
She feels like She hates herself.
She feels like She can never love again.
She feels like her power, to care or to help, has died.
She looks at herself.
She feels disgusted.
She asks herself," Who is this girl?"
As she refuses to accept this violent creature because she has seen herself as a girl with innocence brimming in a soft heart, always.
Then who is this girl?
She screams to get an answer.

But only silence echoed.
Hopelessly, She buries herself in her bed.
She tries sleeping but her sleep comes in wide open eyes, stopping her from closing her eyes.

Her, open eyes start dreaming of past where the child inside her used to set her world colorful, bright and shinning with a eternal faith on happiness .
She console her mind that her questions are useless and need time to be forgotten as they can never get any reply.
She, finally feeling defeated, asks herself to accept her this new descendant.
She, lastly before closing her tired eyes, ask herself a last question,
"Why this upheaval occurred?"
But then too meek to try finding reply she chooses to close her eyes.

It's all because she has left him with her heart. But there's no one to gift her this "only" reply. So, the truth dissolves itself in the music of air with a hope that she will listen to it one day.

Slowly the wind, filtered from the curtains, comes and the water from the mug rises with words coming out from her books to reach her.

But before touching, they take mirror which is ready with her reflection,her blinking cellphone and the echoes of her hanging giggles along with them as their companion.
Finally,through the bridge of her pillow, they touch her to awaken her soul.
The desert within her eyes gets uncovered and a tear's tide reaches its shore, her cheeks.But this mere tear has fallen with a decision to get dry before she opens her eyes.

The blissful touch finally swallows her anger and grants her power to wear a smile for the world waiting for her, tomorrow. 

Crossing Roads

As she entered her house, anger within her was stirring her body to meet a crash. She has rebuked a person in bus who was at verge of assaulting her although she was not an impulsive lady.
"Why didn't you come to pick me up?"
She bawled at her husband who was already present at home.
"Really Sorry, I had to go somewhere urgently that i forgot to inform you",he answered meekly.
"Great, Do you know i have to take a bus?"
"Oh! Thank god, you got one." he ignored the disguised feeling of her while she said bus.
"Yeah! Sorry,actually it was my mistake that my car ditched me and that i expected a help from you"
"But you got a bus and reached safely that's more important"
"I don't want to argue any more if you are completely oblivious to how filthy buses seems to me"
"Shruti, It was a Bus", he said disappointed while his voice attempted to fill the word "bus" with an old stress acquainted to an intense emotion in him.

He left their living room with his renowned calmness which always have made her feel guilty after their sweet- salty fights but this time he left her mind boggling with memories, which she has otherwise overlaid meticulously with her career. The time trickling by the clock seemed to be moving in past to her. The wall drowned with her favourite colour, pink, slowly started fading away. Her Heart started thumping then became calm, once she reached where the word "bus" has destined for her .


She is standing at her bus stop waiting, although her mind is not at all in a waiting state but is well preoccupied by what she was going to do at her office today and also about her fight with her mom, who was exaggerating advantages of being married and finally concluded that she should get married soon. She looked at her watch and cursed Delhi bus service. Then, she saw him coming with an old lady whom she assumed to her grandmother. When he came close to her, she tried to evade away from him but he unknowingly stood besides her with some distance between them as he would have done any other day. She murmured few words to herself then again got lost in her thoughts. He, as usual, shyly gazed her. She knew it but never tried to humiliate or insult him as her inner voice always said to her that he wasn't a flirt kind of person and the care he was showering on her grandmother somehow created a soft corner for him in her heart. But still she had planned to scold him in future.She has observed while he left the bus after her, his grandmother's stop was first. She wondered, "might be his grandmother had to visit some temple daily as her age certainly couldn't allow her to work".
Next day, She saw that only his grandmother was coming towards bus stop and it seemed too obvious that she was struggling hard to move without his support and company so she went close to the old lady and helped her to board the bus.
They sat together. After some stops passed by, she collected enough courage to ask the old lady,"why today grandson didn't come?". 
Old lady started laughing, leaving her stunned, then, answered "Oh! Arjun, he is not my grandson, in fact, he is just a stranger who has once helped me when i was about to faint on road one day", old lady words started to roar with bus. 
While her jaw dropped and a cold sweat drenched her but she further asked," but where do you go daily?",hiding her concern for  Arjun, the name she has just acquainted.
" temple else where? He advised me, not to come daily but then what will i do the whole day at home so when i declined his advise he said that he will accompany me daily till bus stop",old lady continued to blabber about him but she felt speechless hence said nothing just nodded her head but lady further said,"A good boy, who are rare now, anyways bye, my stop has arrived."

Old lady left the bus when it stopped, with its well known jerk, that made her conscious again. Her mind was now occupied by his face who daily gazed her with a hidden innocence and shyness which she had always ignored ruthlessly. Old lady made her to feel proud of him as if he belonged to her, this bizarre thought gave her goosebumps. She left the bus too but with a firm decision to talk to him the following day. 


Her favourite piano tune "Love Theme" by Richard echoed in her ears and with a strange smile, she readily ruined her sleep on sofa. While rubbing her hazel eyes she searched for her cellphone to know the time and to unreveal the mystery of that tune coming from her bedroom. Her phone showed "12:00 a.m 3 Dec." She felt a jump from the sofa while her mind started scolding her. Somehow, she made her mind to calm down and finally she stepped down from her cuddling sofa to reach to her room.
The room was brimming with enlightened candles with a cake on the table, she felt overwhelmed but then observed the cake and a wave of laughter blew her off.
"Ahem Ahem ok, I know it looks disastrous but c'mon what else you expect from me" her husband, Arjun, uttered, standing besides her while gazing her with the same eyes which were now some years old for her.
"No, Its so cool although it has eaten up "i" of my name, Shruti, but i know this cake didn't have that much space" she teased her while her eyes were busy in being wet.
"Sorry Shruti, I was making this Shapeless Cake for our Anniversary all the day that i couldn't come to pick you up"
"Shut up, don't behave extra sweet now, it was my mistake so i reserve all the rights of saying sorry"
"Ok ma'am but don't you think you should say something else now?"
"Oh! Happy Wedding Anniversary"
"Pretty smart, that means i have to decode it as "I love you""
Both burst out in a laughter but she ,inside her heart, was promising herself to find time for her "this" life too, apart from her career. She thanked her mother who had proven right, god for Arjun unconditional love and,of course Bus, that was the sole reason of their meeting up,while he was busy caressing her hair.