"You are such a low-esteem woman," he sneered, jabbing a finger at her, He didn't realise when he came so close to her.
Shivalika stared at him, incredulous.
Show your support
I won't ask
Recent Supporters
27
CHAPTER-25
The Story Of 1970s
Dear Diary... I dreamt of Him. Again... It's been three years since he left this city and moved somewhere. I don't even know where he is. I don't know how he is doing, whether he has been married, or where he is. All I know is How he used to smile, How he used to laugh, How he used to look at me. But I don't know if he still loves Meethi Jalebi and Pheeki Chai, if he still loves children, if he still loves the smell of books, or if he still loves music. I met him in college, He taught me what a crush means and then what a Love looks like. He was the type of man whom any woman could love. Ankhein bhale hi kaali thi uski, Par kuch andhere sa nahi tha. (Even though his eyes were black, there was nothing dark about them.) Guitars ka bohot shauk chadha tha university k ladko ko us samay, Par Vo pagal to Sitar pe hi ataka tha. (At that time, the university boys were very fond of guitars, but this idiot was stuck on the sitar) His voice was so melodious as if he was the personal singer of God. I still remember how I met him 6 years ago, and then those 3 years became everything for me. I still remember the day, when I used to bunk classes just for his glimpse. He was one of the most famous guys in the college, and I used to hate drawing or giving unnecessary attention. But I wanted him to notice me. Kya kya nahi kiya uske liye... sajna sawarna, taking part in extracurricular activities. I was the shyest girl and his attention made me do everything that I hated. (What didn't I do for him...all dolled up) Isi Chakkar me voh toh kuch ban gaye aur hum unpe kitaabein hi likhte reh gaye. (In this process, he became successful and I kept writing books that were only about him) Vo Banaras ki Holi aur Ayodhya ki Diwali sa tha... Kabhi pheeka hi nahi padta tha. (He was like the Holi of Banaras and Diwali of Ayodhya... Never Paled) Aur main Barsaat k us mausam si jo Boondon se dhal jaati aur suraj ki ek kiran se nikhar. (And I was like the rainy season which faded away with drops and brightened with a ray of sun.) Agar ishq ka koi insaani chehara hota.. Toh usi ki tarh hota. (If Love had a face... then It would have been exactly Like Him) You must be curious, Right? Who is this Guy? Who am I? What happened between us? Were we a couple? Happy ending or Sad ending? Then let's read my diary together... where I have mentioned... Only Him. This is not "My Dear Diary" This is "Dear Him" This is "The Story of 1970s" When I saw Him for the first time. . . . (Ps- Only the Prologue is written in Hindi+English, Other than the Prologue, The complete book will be written in English.)
Write a comment ...