Cottage: The one in Woods

It was a new place for her. The new town furnished with green air and humbleness in abundance. She wiped her past in her pinafore and worked as a maid in that cottage. Through the little window in her workplace, she made it possible to perceive a portion of people’s life whenever someone passed by.

There was a bridge on the way to the cottage. The one she never got slightest of opportunity to cross. A brook flowed under this very bridge, the quaintness of which was so appealing the passengers were compelled not to cross the bridge without pausing for the moment. This very moment the brook helped her see the very image of their being. 

An old man passes by the bridge every day. He sees sunshine when he leans to penetrate through the depths of flowing water. He was a widower with no children left to take care of. He sees sunshine because that is the way he feels walking back home after spending a long day at orphanage with children keenly listening and applauding his stories. 

A young boy passes by the bridge every day. The brook, as soon as she sees him, gears up. The boy then throws a pebble down the bridge in a way nuclear bombs are bombarded in world wars. In the most artistic way possible, fine and concentric ripples are formed. The brook gets an equally artistic smile on the face of the boy.

A sister from the Baptist church passes by the bridge every day. She bends down to see the face of brook which hustles in a way psalms are chanted.

These people had somewhere occupied a place in that girl’s daily life. Besides, the girl waited for someone else. The person seemed to exist not in the proximity of her conscience. A person to who even the brook did not answer.

Even he passed by the bridge every day. To him, perhaps, the brook spoke of nihility. Neither did the water whine nor did it grizzle, but simply flowed.

All she did was waited near the window each day for him to come, each day for him to come and the brook to answer to his questions or rather her questions.

P.S.: There are numerous facets of life. One fine day, try out living without experiencing a particular one.

As simple as this !

All the vicinity faded away the day when he first saw her. He was not the kind of person to fall for girls who know nothing but how to look good. She had this delusion of grandeur. No doubt, her looks were stunning to the point that heads were certain to turn. The beauty with no brains lived a life of a princess with the ancestral inheritance she acquired with minimal effort.

His was a life adorned with success. Getting the love of life was never included in that success list. He wasn’t even a believer of love at first sight but things were destined to happen.

It was then when he managed a convo with the girl that he realised that it would be difficult for him to accept her even as the less better half. But, it was too late and she was on his list that defined success.  Moreover, the question whether the girl would accept him had not even raised yet. He could not have afford to let go off her in any circumstance. A way exists for every will. He decided to train her for life. He taught her how the world works and the pragmatic approach to existence. He taught her the ways to gain respect from the respectful beings. Plus he never forgot to tell her that she was the girl he loves truly, madly and deeply and so she never found any reason not to be with him at any point of the day or the night.

There was ofcourse the second side of this coin.At times when they lay on the wet grass together under the open sky, he told her about the constellations above and she helped him find immense pleasure in appraising even the flawed beauty of the moon. At nights when they went for long drives, he said he wants youngsters to understand how fatal crossing speed limits can get and she tells her how thrilled biking and passionate love crosses the limits of fear of death. Gradually she taught him much more than he taught her with more intensity and credence.

As she found a Magus in him who could arouse and then quench the thirst for knowledge, he had come to know eternal love for not only knowledge and success but for love itself. He always loved her and now he loves Love too.

P.S:  They were happy since the beginning, until now and lived happily ever after.

Again to Return

Sometimes getting no answer is better that getting 'no' as an answer..

Indu :Is your luggage packed ? There is nothing left na ?

nO.

Indu :What is the duration of your trip ? Are there any chances that it would get extended ?

nO.

Indu :You are taking the duplicate keys with you right ?

nO.

Indu :You are going to return na ? 

nO.

P.S.: And he walks away..

Intent on Satisfaction

I dont know what is it that brings me immense satisfaction..it is just that i want to measure the contentment whenever i am happy, when im sad, when im involved in a thing or when excluded from something. I would so measure it that i get to know a little more of myself. And the data i collect would be used tactfully for future use. Music ofcourse has been something i always use when dissatisfied. And there are a few more...

Music

Scooty...i love driving through lonely lanes and the speed is directly proportional to the weather.

Diary...i talk to her..and whenever i make crosses and zeroes and squares and lines, i first let her know that i'm gonna scribble in you..i tend to get babyish with her..

Sleep...if only i get it right away..

Other times, simply wasting time keeps me satisfied.

=)

P.S : I haven't read a single page today..i have my offensive examinations. And I am Satisfied today !
         I am Happy today !