Her fits were worsening or may be they were same. Calling them worse wouldn't have made any difference, only his worries about her health would multiply. Nothing else. He played his guitar. He sang too. But when she would join in, he would know she was back. "I may run you through the wall!", she had told him on their date set up by their parents. A strue believer like her, she couldn't find a single guy to pass her basic tests - she had designed them personally. And as of him, he had given universe a fair share of chances but it never brought her to him before. "... and how do you think I should respond to this ?", he was caught off-guard. His voice fumbled. "I don't know. You can always surprise me!", the despair of another hopeless meet was all across her face. It had been 7 years since that day when she wore the red lehenga with loud yet subtle golden zari and he donned a sherwani of her choice, an elegant white piece and a...
Banters of an enamoured soul, in all shades of grey. Life. Poetry. Some Proses. Light and Dark.