Friday, September 27, 2013

Short Story: The Strangest Thing

Source: Google Images
The Strangest Thing
-       Aniesha Brahma

Strange things have happened, but seldom does it happen.
-
Henry Bliss
Roshni had waited patiently all night for Dev to wake up. She had been delighted at how effortless it had been to sneak into his room. It was their anniversary of being together for a year today and the first thing she wanted him to see in the morning was her face. She stole impatient glances at the watch on his bedside table.
“I wonder if the boy ever cleans up his room,” she thought to herself, eyeing the cluttered table. Everything had been placed pell-mell on it.
His bed was placed at the center of his room, overlooking a jumbo sized window. Everything looked cheerful and nice to Roshni.
“Oh just wake up, already,” she groaned. But Dev slept on, oblivious to his girlfriend’s presence.
When the Sun rose, the first rays fell across Dev’s room, and rested on his face. He stirred a little, and Roshni immediately jumped up from her perch.
“Happy Anniversary, dear!” she shouted joyfully.
But he merely grunted in his sleep. Dev pulled the covers to hide his face and went back to sleep. No amount of prodding or shaking would get him to abandon his sweet slumber.
When he did wake up, almost two hours later, Dev still did not say a word to Roshni. He was ignoring her. And the girl was nearly beside herself with anger and frustration, wondering how to fix things with Dev and racking her brains to remember what had gone wrong previously.
“Are you mad at me because we got into a fight?” she asked him, softly.
There was no reply. Dev went through his morning routine of cleaning up and dressing up, and Roshni sulked by herself in a corner. Half an hour later, without so much as acknowledging her, he went out of his room.
“Hey Marlowe! Haven’t seen you all night, buddy. Where have you been?”
Roshni could hear Dev talk to his pet cat. She could almost hear him fondle that stupid animal of his. So he had all the time in the world to cuddle the cat and not a second to say ‘hi’ to her? She had half a mind to storm out of his room at this very minute and shout at him. But fearing the racket might awaken his parents, she decided against it.
“I kept the food aside for you in my room, go get it,” Dev said, “I’ll go out for a bit now. Okay? Be good.”
“Meow,” said Marlowe.
Roshni flopped down on the bed, and waited for the cat to enter the room. He did so in style, pushing the rest of the door open with one paw. His ears went backwards, and his nose wouldn’t stop moving. He was desperately trying to locate what was making his owner’s room stink so badly.
“Oh my,” said Marlowe, when his round green eyes were fixated on Roshni, “It’s you is it?”
And you could’ve knocked Roshni down with a feather. Never in her life had she seen a talking cat. Not in the world she lived in anyway.
“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, “You’re a talking cat! Marlowe…I thought you only meowed.”
“Well, I reserve my talents,” said Marlowe, shaking his head from one side to another, “But that is rather rich, coming from a walking dead girl!”
“Excuse me?” shrieked Roshni, almost leaping up from the bed, as though she’d been electrified, “Dead? I am not dead. I’m sure Dev was just ignoring me.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” purred Marlowe, “And you’re probably having a terrible nightmare where a cat Dev had rescued just happens to talk. Isn’t it?”
She screwed her eyes shut tightly and opened them again. Marlowe was still in front of her, in all his white and brown patched glory. He was giving her a very questioning look.
“What?” she snapped at him.
“Aren’t ghosts supposed to roam around in those white gowns?” he asked, tilting his head to one side.
“I am NOT a ghost,” Roshni screamed at him.
“Oh face it, honey,” said Marlowe, on squatting down on his hind paws, and licking his left front paw, “You’re just in denial.”
Much against her will, Roshni stood in front of the mirror in Dev’s room. Sure enough, she couldn’t see herself in it. She didn’t have a reflection. But more than wanting to know that she’s dead, Roshni wanted to know how she’d died in the first place.
“Marlowe,” she said, turning to the cat, who was now following her with his eyes, “Do you know how I died?”
“Car accident, they said,” Marlowe said, indifferently, “I didn’t really pay attention to it. Till I sensed Dev was sinking into depression.”
“Dev? Oh my god, where did he go off to?” asked Roshni, alarmed.
“The usual,” Marlowe said, nonchalantly, “He went off to the damn park to run. He is always doing that these days.”
“He’s up to no good this morning,” said Roshni, urgently going towards the door, “I know it in my heart.”
“Dead hearts can feel?” asked Marlowe, getting up and following Roshni, swishing his tail behind him.
“One more word from you and I’ll pull your tail.”
“You cannot touch material things, lady. You’re dead.”
“And you’re immaterial.” Roshni muttered.
Nevertheless they both ran to the park where Dev had started going for his morning jogs. When they arrived there, they saw him darting around the park, almost bursting for air, but not giving up. Finally, he just fell down on the grass, crumpling up.
“Oh dear God,” said Roshni, darting towards him, with Marlowe at her heels.
“So ghosts believe in God now?”
“Just shut up.”
Dev was lying there, face buried in the grass, trying to breathe easy. Roshni placed a hand on his head. He jumped and looked violently around.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I’m so sorry.”
“Why’s he sorry, Marlowe?” asked Roshni, curiously.
“I’m sorry I made you a promise I couldn’t keep,” Dev went on, bitterly, “I didn’t know things would get so bad.”
“What the hell is he talking about Marlowe?” asked Roshni, surprised.
“Meow,” said Marlowe.
“What the hell…talk human, you stupid cat…tell me what’s wrong!”
“Roshni, I meant to come on time. I meant to come and pick you up…but I got delayed. And you…why did you take the damn auto?” he wailed, “I would’ve been there in five minutes.”
“DEV!”
He started up. Roshni wondered whether he’d finally been able to hear her voice. But she was disappointed to see, another girl walking up to him.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Another of your cramps?” she asked, kneeling down beside him.
She touched his head lightly, pushing his sweaty hair back. Dev refused to look at her. He wouldn’t look into the eyes of his fellow jogger.
“It’s not another one of my cramps,” he grumbled, “And didn’t I tell you not to bother me. I really don’t feel up to socializing.”
“You weren’t in this mood two nights ago when…” she began angrily.
“Shut up, Keya. Why don’t you?”
The girl got up, her anger matching his. “Don’t pretend, Dev. Just don’t. I wonder what your precious Roshni would say if she ever found out…”
“Don’t even go there!”
“…that the last thing her boyfriend did before she died in a freak accident was cheat on her!” she screamed as loudly as she could.
“What?” asked Roshni, softly, “Why would you do that?”
She knew her heart wasn’t beating anymore. But whatever was left of that dead organ seemed to be crumbling into pieces.
“I’ll repeat this to you one last time: go away.” Dev said, through gritted teeth.
“Why isn’t he denying it? Why isn’t he slapping her? Marlowe, why is he quiet?” Roshni asked, sounding close to hysteria.
Marlowe tilted his head to one side and said, “I think it’s probably because it’s true.”
Roshni flopped down on the grass beside Dev, who was already torn in anguish. Then, looking at him, she said, slowly, “I don’t think I want to live anymore.”
“Well, honey,” said Marlowe, “You already got that wish. You see, you’re really dead.”
_______________________________
This story was first published in Fablery's very first newsletter.

Thursday, September 26, 2013

Musing: Initial Days at Hope Foundation

Hope Foundation

The landing page on my blog and the About Aniesha page would tell you that in my spare time I'm currently volunteering for the NGO, Hope Foundation. 

I came to know that they were taking in interns from my friend, Swati Bhattacharya, right after we'd finished our Masters. I'd already spent a solid month at home - whiling away time, wishing I could keep my self declared holiday a bit longer. 

It was during the break month of June, that I became very interested in revamping my blog, and writing blog posts almost daily. I even signed up to be a part of a blogging team that called itself Coup D'East....I was trying to make myself as busy as I could possibly be.

Anyway - I'm digressing from what I initially set out to write. I decided to apply for an internship with Hope Foundation as well. When I went there, however, it turned out I would need a letter of reference in order to intern there. I told the very nice lady at the desk that I couldn't possibly manage that since I'd just finished MA and didn't know what I wanted to do next. She very kindly suggested that I volunteer instead, for volunteers don't need reference letters. Just their CV, ID proof and a completed form they provided me. 
Nice, eh?

"What was your subject in college?" she asked me.
"Comparative Literature," I said, and hoped she wouldn't ask me to explain the subject to her. I still don't know how to condense five years' worth of studying in five minutes... 
Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind the 'Comparative' part. She only heard the last bit, for she went, "Literature student? Tahole ami tomake teaching e rakhchi." ( Translation: Then I'll sign you up for teaching.)
I also informed her where I lived, because Swati told me that her center was quite near my house. The lady, too, kindly placed me at the very same center. 
I was required to please attend their coaching center from 11am to 1pm, helping out the children with their school work.

The First Day At Work 

That's the steps leading to the Hope Foundation Coaching Center,
Can you blame me for missing it?

I took the rickshaw to the center the next day, missed the school, and went off into another locality. I'd lived in this part of the city for twenty three years back then - but I'd never set foot in that place. In fact, I never need to delve deep into place where I stayed. Too say I was shocked to discover life existed beyond my sheltered home is an understatement. After annoying those who've grown to like me now, I found the Lock Gate Coaching Center...

The Narrow Rickety Steps
Pic Courtesy: Swati Bhattacharya
I didn't have much to do the first day. The house mothers told me that there were already three teachers in the coaching, so if I didn't mind, would I stay with the creche?
Teach kids who haven't even started school, in other words. I was only to happy to oblige. I really love kids. And for some reason, most of them tend to return that feeling.

 Visitors came, and everyone was their usual, beaming happy selves. Even when they didn't feel like it. I was introduced as their "volunteer", and I think I almost got patted on the head for the social service.

I was a little dazed from the experience, and walked back home, reflecting over the children I'd met. 
When I got back home, another news awaited me - I'd gotten through the MPhil program at my university. I was happy, but now I wondered how I was going to finish my 30 day commitment to service, because that's what I'd signed up for...

The School where we teach, Click Courtesy: Swati Bhattacharya

Three Days A Week of Hope 

Thankfully, MPhil classes are just twice a week. And Hope required me to volunteer a minimum of three days a week...that that worked out perfectly. Instead of being a regular face for a month and disappearing, my three days a week, actually gave me time to bond with the children and get on a first name basis with them.

I learned their names quickly, and discovered that to them, (no matter how young I think I look), I would only be "Aunty". I've taught kids before - and they've never called me anything other than "Didi". Here, "Aunty" seemed to be the protocol. When asked why I don't come to Hope regularly by a kid, I told her, "Because I have to go to university the other days." She stared at me and said, "Tumi college e poro?" (You're in college?)

There's nothing I can do but laugh. 

"Aunty..."

See? They Do Barely Come Up To Our Waists... 

It's been three months since I started volunteering for Hope Foundation, and as October approaches, I know the days of my volunteering would also be over. Now, I'm used to the children tugging at my kurta, and whining, "Aunty...." When I am standing up, I know there are a sea of little heads which barely come up to my waist.And there are adorable kids who love flinging their arms around my neck, and tell me how things at home are not looking up. 

The other teachers there are used to my presence, and they've grown to like me, if not love me, at least. In fact, one of them teases me everyday saying, "Aunty go....proti din asho na keno?" (Why don't you come here everyday, aunty?)

The kids are funny and they brighten my life every day...but I guess, that'll be a different post. Because if I put everything down in this blog post...it will end up being a terribly long one. 

Next time when I write about my experiences as Hope Foundation's Volunteer, I'll definitely tell you about how hilarious an experience it is, to teach these kids. 

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Short Story: Written in the Stars


Written in the Stars
-       Aniesha Brahma

“Predictions can be very difficult – especially about the future.”
- Neils Bohr


Monday, 8:05am
Kalighat Metro Station

Arushi waited for the metro, stifling a yawn. Nothing interesting was going to happen today, she thought. Work was boring. The only reason she’d even decided to become a content developer for a private company was to stop her relatives from asking her, “So…you’re done with Masters. What next?” How she longed to tell them she was planning to take a year off and finish writing her novel…but she knew she’d never have lived down the family scandal had she really let slip her true intentions. Besides, Arushi reasoned with her very tired mind, she needed the money.

8:07am
Rabindra Sarobor Metro Station

Naveen was standing slouched against one of those pillars in the metro station. He could never understand why he never was on time for the damn train. He was either ten minutes early or ten minutes too late. He had once even tried using the metro app on his mobile to track the timing of the trains. Miraculously even that had failed. He needed to get to work; he thought, impatiently, there was already so much to be done. Other than wait around for a silly train, he added to himself as an afterthought.

8:15am

The train finally chugs its way into the station. Naveen boards it first from the Rabindra Sarobor Metro Station, and Arushi boards it from the Kalighat Metro Station. Arushi gets off at Park Street, while Naveen gets off a few stops later at Central.

Neither of them knows that the other one exists. Much less that they take the same metro to work every single day…
*
Monday, 10:05pm
Bloggers’ World

Ice Princess has logged on.
Swaras_11 has logged on.

Ice Princess: How was your day?
Swaras_11: Pathetic. Yours?
Ice Princess: Same old, same old…idiotic work.
Swaras_11: Why don’t you take the year off like you’d planned?
Ice Princess: Because then I’d be getting Hell for it!?!?
Swars_11: I wish there were more hours in the days L
Ice Princess: Workaholic, much?
Swaras_11: Hey, c’mon…not all of us have the privilege of hating our jobs.
Ice Princess: Hmm…
Swaras_11: Listen, I gotta go now. TTYL?
Ice Princess: Sure J

Swaras_11 has logged out.
Ice Princess is busy.

Sweetie_20: Toh, Didi…have you spoken to Dada today?
Ice Princess: Yes, Sweetie.
Sweetie_20: Nice. Did you tell him you like him?
Ice Princess: Why on Earth would I do that?
Sweetie_20: Because you do? *confused*
Ice Princess: Yes. I am going to tell a complete stranger that I like him. Brilliant!
Sweetie_20: But he’s not a stranger, Di. You know him.
Ice Princess: For all I know, you could be him.
Sweetie_20: Impossible, Di. We skyped, remember?
Ice Princess: I rest my case.
Sweetie_20:
Good.

Ice Princess is offline.

Sweetie_20: Offo!!! Now she went offline as well. Weirdo…
*




Tuesday, 8:15am
Rabindra Sarobor Metro Station

Naveen rushed into the platform only to find the speeding train departing without him. He angrily shook his fist, looking heavenward.
“Relax, son,” an elderly passenger told him. Unlike Naveen the uncle was undisturbed by the fact he’d missed the train, “God always has a better plan.”
“Well if you have His number, could tell him to hurry up with it?” Naveen said, irritably.

Tuesday, 8:22am
Kalighat Metro Station

“Noooooo!!!” screamed Arushi, as she rushed towards the metro, but the obnoxious train shut its door on her face, and pulled away.
She felt quite near to tears because today she already been running five minutes behind schedule. Her late night talk with the mysterious Swaras_11 and Sweetie_20, had absolutely turned her head.
True, she did like Swaras_11. But to profess that…it seemed silly to her. What would she say, anyway?
“Listen up, Swaras_11, I, Ice Princess, really like you.”
Even in her head the words had sounded utterly stupid.
She shook the thoughts of her Blogger World out of head, and concentrated on the now. She needed to get to office – soon. Reluctantly, she glanced at the digital clock announcing the arrival of the next train.
Another ten minutes. She sighed, and resigned to her Fate.

8:30am

The train comes into the Rabindra Sarobor Metro Station, and Naveen hops in. The elderly gentleman also boards the same compartment.
Naveen is too irritated this morning to make the effort to find a place to sit. He stands near the doorway. A few minutes later the train slows down as it enters the Kalighat Metro Station.
He’s only half listening to the voice announcing, “Platform is on the right side.”
Then she enters the metro, the girl who was waiting for her train impatiently. She accidently shoves him.
“Sorry,” she mutters, as their eyes briefly meet.
Naveen tries to say something but no sound comes out his mouth. He merely nods. The girl wasn’t breathtakingly beautiful. But there was something about her.
She slipped into the now growing crowd of the metro, and Naveen forced himself to look away.
“Next stop is Jatin Das Park,” the recorded voice announced, happily, “Platform is on the right side.”

*

Tuesday, 10:30pm
Bloggers’ World

Sweetie_20 is online.
Ice Princess has logged on.
Swaras_11 has logged on.

Sweetie_20: Wow…that’s so weird.
Ice Princess: What is?
Sweetie_20: You and Dada. You came online, and he followed at once.
Ice Princess: Coincidence, my love.
Sweetie_20: So you ARE in love?
Ice Princess: Wow…you really CAN be annoying.
Sweetie_20: *te he he he he* wait, I’m going to ping Dada.
Ice Princess: Go right ahead, darling.

Sweetie_20: Hello! J What are you doing?
Swaras_11: Oh hi…nothing much. Just thinking…
Sweetie_20: About that girlfriend of yours?
Swaras_11: Oh, no…not really.
Sweetie_20: Admit it. There’s no girlfriend. She’s a myth. Like Persephone.
Swaras_11: Who?
Sweetie_20: A heroine from a Greek Myth. Never mind…so what were you thinking?
Swaras_11: A girl. A girl I saw today.
Sweetie_20: Wow, Dada. You’re looking at girls? Congrats! You most definitely don’t have a girlfriend.
Swaras_11: Why are you after my girlfriend?? :-o
Sweetie_20: Simple. You don’t have one. Anyway...the girl you were telling me about?
Swaras_11: Oh right. Well the girl…she was so familiar. I can swear I’ve seen her before…but…
Sweetie_11: You cannot exactly place her, is it? BRB.

Sweetie_20: Did you bump into a guy today?
Swaras_11: Excuse me?
Sweetie_20: Shit. Wrong Chat Console!

Swaras_11: Hi!
Ice Princess: About time. Hmpf!
Swaras_11: Sorry…I’ve been distracted.
Ice Princess: You love your job. Don’t tell me you want to sleep in your office now?
Swaras_11: No, no…I wasn’t thinking about that. It’s…Forget it. Better luck at work?
Ice Princess: I WISH. I was late to work, and I think I nearly knocked over some poor guy on my way there…
Swaras_11: Ha ha! I wish I was there to see his face.
Ice Princess: I didn’t literally knock him over, Swaras. Just more like a stupid…oh never mind. Why are we even talking about this? How was your day?
Swaras_11: Distracting.
Ice Princess: Wow…Aren’t you full of conversational skills?
Swaras_11: I warned you. I am not good at striking up conversations.
Ice Princess: Yes. But still –
Swaras_11: Oi! Time for dinner. TTYL?

Swars_11 is offline.

Ice Princess: Your name should be TTYL!

Sweetie_20: Di, did you bump into some guy today?

Ice Princess is offline.

Sweetie_20: Jackasses. The both of them!
*
Wednesday, 8:07am
Kalighat Metro Station

Arushi was relieved to find that both she and the metro had fallen into sync with each other. She happily boarded the metro, and rode off into her destination…

Wednesday, 8:15am
Rabindra Sarobor Metro Station

Naveen deliberately came to the station late today. He wanted to see the girl he’d met yesterday again. He craned his neck around, to keep an eye out for the girl from yesterday. She’d taken the 8:15am train, he remembered correctly.
Then, where on Earth was she? He’d even managed to locate the same compartment like last time…yet…she didn’t board it from the spot she’d taken yesterday.
“She looked like a regular. Or seemed.” He thought doubtfully to himself. Then he shrugged.
She was just another girl. Why was he making the effort to find her anyway?
“There’s nothing special about her,” he told himself, firmly, “From tomorrow, I’m going to go back to taking the Metro at my time.”
But his heart remained unconvinced.
*
Wednesday, 11:00pm
Bloggers’ World

Ice Princess is offline.
Swaras_11 has logged on.
Sweetie_20 is online.

Swaras_11: Ice Princess hasn’t come online today?
Sweetie_20: Oh nice, Dada. Hello to you too…
Swaras_11: Sorry, sorry…I just really needed to speak to her once.
Sweetie_20: I have her mobile number if you want.
Swaras_11: That would be wonderful. Thanks.
*
Thursday, 12:00 am

Unknown Number calling…

“Hello,” said Arushi aka Ice Princess, wondering if Millie (Sweetie_20) was up to one of her usual prank calls.
“Hi, this will sound weird…but this is Swaras_11. Sweetie gave me your number,” said Naveen aka Swaras_11 uncertainly.
“Wow…so you do exist,” said Arushi, dazed. She’d been longing to speak to him over the phone for some time now. Even when Millie had managed to get his number, Arushi had refused to save it, much less make a note of it.
“Yeah…I do. So, why weren’t you online today?” he asked, pleasantly.
His voice was better than she’d imagined. She could kick herself for not being able to keep a steady voice.
“Well…I just didn’t feel like it, to be honest,” said Arushi, “I had too much drama at work. I couldn’t handle being online.”
And get TTYL-d by you, she mentally added.
“I get that…usually I go online to escape those feelings.” Naveen went on conversationally, “How was work?”
“You already asked me that,” said Arushi, slowly, “Swaras, what’s going on?”
“Nothing…I guess I’m still distracted.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Hey, save up my number. We can text, right? I have to go now. Talk to you later?”
Sure thing, Mr. TTYL, Arushi thought.
“Yeah, bye.”
*
Thursday, 12:15am
Bloggers’ World

Ice Princess has logged on.
Sweetie_20 is online.
Swaras_11 is offline.

Ice Princess: So he called.
Sweetie_20: Andddd…???
Ice Princess: He’s every bit as I thought him to be, Millie.
Sweetie_20: Aww…was it really that bad?
Ice Princess: He TTYL-d me! Over the phone!!!
Sweetie_20: HA HA HA HA HA!!!
Ice Princess: I better go sleep now. Ttyl?
Sweetie_20: Look, you’re doing it too…
Ice Princess: yeah, I don’t care.

Ice Princess has logged off.
*
Thursday, 8:07am
Kalighat Metro Station

Naveen was craning his neck, trying to see something on the platform of Kalighat Metro Station, where the train was pulling in. He was seated at one of the corner seats, right next to the door. Then she caught his eye. The ordinary he tried to look for yesterday. Here she was standing at the station. He heart leapt to his throat. There was no mistaking her.
He sat sheepishly in his seat, wondering what he’d tell her, if they happened to be in the same compartment. It wasn’t normal for strangers to strike up conversations. Much less strangers their age, and of the opposite gender…
She never came to his compartment though. He didn’t see her, till the train pulled into Park Street. She materialized from the crowd, and fought her way to the door. Someone pushed her, and she fell almost across his lap.
He acted in reflex, catching her upper arm, he steadied her. She looked at him, startled. A faint trace of recognition flickered in her eyes.
It was gone as soon as it had come.
“Sorry,” she muttered, embarrassed, “I…Bye.”
She hastily got out of the metro, and fled for dear life, cheeks flaming red with embarrassment.
*
Thursday, 8:40am
Central Metro Station

When Naveen got down from the metro, he received a text that made his head spin. It was from Ice Princess. She’d refused to tell him her real name.
“Good morning, Swaras! Guess what? I fell across some dude’s lap while trying to get down from the metro today. *shakes head* Hope your day is off to a better start.”
Everything came together. Why she’d seemed so familiar. The profile picture from her Bloggers’ World account…that’s why he’d the feeling he’d seen her somewhere before.
After all these days, he laughed almost loudly, he’d bumped straight into the girl who refused to tell him, her name.
*

Friday, 8:07am
Kalighat Metro Station

Naveen was ready today. He was going to tell Ice Princess who he was. When she boarded the Metro, he made it a point to go and stand right next to her. She looked at him curiously, and then looked away.
“Hello,” he said. He really wasn’t good at conversation, “Nice weather, isn’t it?”
“We’re underground,” she said, slowly.
She was about to look away, when her eyes caught the Office ID tag he’d forgotten to tuck into his pocket.
The picture seemed to remind her of something. She saw the name printed right next to it: NAVEEN.
Just as Naveen was about to identify himself, the train pulled into the next station. Arushi pulled out her phone and dialed his Swaras_11’s number.
In the brief minute their phones had their respective service towers, Naveen’s phone began to ring.
“The Gujrati novel,” said Arushi, slowly, disconnecting the call, “Swaraswatichandra…he called himself Naveenchandra when he visited Kumud’s house. Didn’t he?”
“Guilty as charged,” said Naveen, smiling down at her, “Ice Princess.”
Then they both looked at each other and began to laugh.
“Do you still want to go to work?” asked Naveen, after they’d sobered down.
“Yes. Or else you’re going to TTYL me in the middle of the day…”
“That, really, is never my fault…”
“I’ll say.”
They kept bickering and never noticed when the metro had brought them to the very last station.
“Oh dear,” sighed Arushi.
“My sentiments exactly,” said Naveen, rolling his eyes, “By the way; you never told me your name…?”
“Arushi,” replied the girl. Then with an evil glint in her eye, she said, “But you can still call me Ice Princess.”
*
Friday, 12:00am
Bloggers’ World

Sweetie_20 is online.
Swaras_11 is online.
Ice Princess is online.

Sweetie_20: So, all’s well that ends well, eh, Di?
Ice Princess: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Sweetie_20: Sure. I’ll pretend that way too.

Sweetie_20: So Dada, are you finally going to ditch your fictitious girlfriend?
Swaras_11: What makes you think she’s fictitious??? :-o
Sweetie_20: Give it a rest. BOTH OF YOU!

Swaras_11: I really DO have a girlfriend, Arushi.
Ice Princess: I know, I know… J
Swaras_11: You don’t believe me either?
Ice Princess: No. I don’t care. That’s the difference.
*

        THE END



Creative Commons License
Written in the Stars by Aniesha Brhama is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.