Okay, it is a Sunday again and here I am at work again with very little to do. I have been trying to open the sajha website since forever but seems like there is an error in the site.L So with nothing to do, I thought of writing a story about my days in India but to no avail. My mind seems to be running blank, and it simply denies letting me go through the files where my memories are stored. For some unknown reason, it tells me that I can?t go back to my reverie and enjoy the moments that are deeply cherished. Hmm.. so with nothing to do, I am all blank and am realizing that when one has nothing to do how useless one feels.
Let me therefore write a fiction story, which I don?t think I am really good at. But let me try anyway. What about a story in Nepal, a girl whose family is really strict and living in the 19th century world? That should work out quite fine I guess.

>>>>>>> She woke up in the morning with a start. The alarm was ringing beside her and it was almost 6:00 am. Had she slept any longer, her mother would come storming into the room with a look of disapproval in her eyes. She was not a morning person and had realized that 12 years ago when she was a mere kid of 7 years old. She thinks about those times. Times when she thought that her life would be that of sleeping beauty. Though sleeping beauty had been asleep most her life but the king and queen had loved her immensely. That?s what she had really wanted. To be ba and amma?s little princess.

Till the time she was 11, that?s how she had felt-- like a little princess. But there had been an abrupt change. She would now compare herself to Cinderella. A girl who was named so because of the cinder that was always clinging to her. The cinder that was so hard to remove that she would seldom taste it in her lips. And there was prince charming, who had come one day and swept her off her feet. That always brought a smile to her face. When everything else dies, hope keeps one going and aiming of the bright side of life. And that?s how she took her life, a feeble beating of the heart who?s only inspiration and motivation was a tinge of hope that one day it would all change.

She had no time to daydream or slip into a reverie that would last only for 15 minutes, before her mother would bring her back to the harsh reality. Her father had again come home drunk last night, but thankfully had not laid a finger on any of them. He was too drunk and for that. He had not even been able to drag the limp 57 kg of body to his bed. Amma had to forcefully drag him, by supporting him with the small body frame. She only had a height of 4?11? and weighed a mere 42 kg. But amma never complained. She felt the emptiness too, but she swallowed her sobs and dried her tears.

Lalita got out of bed quickly and rushed to the bathroom. They had all the modern facilities, but the feeling of living in the ancient world sometimes choked her. Most of her friends would wear fancy jeans and skirts. Some were even daring enough to try the tops that people called ?strings?, which had not thing but a flimsy string at the shoulders barely holding the cloth to their chest. But as long as she could remember, she had never had the opportunity to wear anything but the kurta surwals that amma would handpick for her. They normally were nice colors as amma had a good choice, but went no where closer to the modern kurtas that the bollywood actresses wore to show off their slim body.

Had anyone gone to Lalita?s cousins and friends and asked them about her figure, they would have given you a blank stare that would say it all. They had no idea of what you were talking about. Lalita and the talk of bodies and figures did not go together. Though she had a fabulous body with the curves at the right places, she had never had a chance to show it off. True that her best of best friends had seen her awkwardly try a pair of jeans and beautiful shirt clinging to her body, but it had come off before she had even put it on. She had been immensely self-conscious and the expression on her wide-eyed friends had given her the wrong impression. If she had known that they were shocked to see the beautiful figure behind the shield of items that were a good excuse for ?clothes? she would have been less self-conscious.

Lalita was a statute of beauty, Venus would have been proud and envious of the picture she presented. As Lalita got out of the bathroom after shower, the heavens would have parted to give a tribute to the untouched beauty. Though only 5?2? she had the look of a goddess. Her long hair wet after the shower gleamed as the ray of morning light touched them. It was neither curly not straight, and yet could not be called wavy. It was what every girl would die for, yet Lalita never gave a second thought to it. Her skin was smooth and it seemed like she washed herself with milk everyday. Her olive complexion glowed and her light brown eyes twinkled as if they had stories of their own to tell. She needed no false make up to define her perfection, but she yearned for a hint of mascara on those lovely eyes.

Ramro chha Rythm Dijyou......... keep coming..........

Yesai ma ma pani yeuta STRAGNE LOVE STORY ko fiction post gardiu ki kya ho ;-D

Hey people! here is one try....... its not as good as Rythm's though...... Just go through if uve time........

LOVE, NOT EXPRESSERED........

Every day as I leave for office and reach the first bend near restaurant I come across a tall slim girl coming from the other and. By 10 I have to reach office and around 9:30 we encounter frequently. Sometimes if I see her coming earlier than usual time I become afraid whether I am late or she is quick. You know, in the beginning I did not care much about her as hundreds of people pass through the same path every day.

But ours relationship was something different and strange, at least I think so. Everyday as we encounter we give a quick glance but could not dare to look even for a moment so we change our direction. When I see her coming from far I change my side and come to right side if she is in left. Often I try to avoid her but sometime it is not possible to do so and we become so close that we could not just collide. I could clearly smell her perfume. Her silky pink sari has touched my shoulder quite a few times. Her sketch is clear in my mind. She is slim girl having fair complexion with long coloured brown hair. Oval face with sharp nose. Often she puts on saris and occasionally casual outfits like jeans and T-shirts. She looks gorgeous on pink sari, which she rarely wears. But on jeans she looks pretty younger. She never changes her black leather bag. It's more than a year I have seen her carrying the same old bag. She must be a working girl, I guessed. Quite often I wonder why I am thinking so much about someone who is totally strange to me. Then I laughed on myself. But truly speaking, I was not interested on her. Not yet.

It has been my routine to go office and back home, meeting the same girl on the way. One day at the meeting point near the same restaurant, the bunch of girls was coming giggling and chuckling. I could not believe that such serious and innocent girl can be so bully and active among friends. Some of her friends were pointing at me; maybe they were talking something about me.

It has been more than a year I have joined this office walking same road and meeting the same girl every day. I really don't know what is happening nowadays, I feel romantic to think about her. One day, I was late while returning from office, as there was work to be finished the same day. That lousy evening as I was returning I was pleasantly bowled over to see her coming from other side. Yes, she saw and felt as if someone very closed to her had met her. But as usual there was no exchange of words except glancing each other. That was the first time I have met her except the usual time. I never wanted to know and inquire much about her nor did she. That's why our relationship (?) remains strange. I really don't know what she thinks regarding me. Had I been seriously interested on her I would have followed her & taken some steps a head irrespective of the consequences and outcomes. But at the same time, one can express thousand words even without speaking a single word. So, have we expressed? I don't know.

The other day, I was at restaurant at Durbar Marg having coffee. You know, I was delighted suddenly to see her in another corner with her female friend. She was putting black jeans and red t-shirt, looking terrific. . For the first time; I yearned to talk to her and have a conversation but I did not dare. Till then she had not noticed me, as she got up from table she noticed me and was awfully surprised, and perplexed to see me, her face was expressing that. She could not say even a single word nor did I. Again, she took seat and ordered ice cream and got engaged talking to her friend. Perhaps she was waiting me to commence a dialogue but I was not that much confidant. I gave try but could not. "Tomorrow, definitely I would talk to her" I made a promise and made a way. She might have been felt ignored.

After that day, I don't know why her things impressed me. Really, I was interested on her, still I am stranger for her but I have had a special feeling for her. It was untold and unexpressed relationship between two of us. Maybe it is called "love". That night I could not sleep and regretted why I could not I speak to her. I could have said "hi!" I saw her in dream. Two of us holding each other's hand and promising to live together for years and years. We were laughing why we both stupid could not speak for a whole year and said how suffocated we were to break the ice. I was holding her tightly on my arm and she was kissing me madly.

That morning, I was very much eager to meet her and was already prepared what to say. I went quite earlier so that I could meet her in time. She came exactly at 9:20 wearing same pink sari, old bag and walking quick strides. But she was with her old friend. I gave up the idea to speak out for that day. That whole day I was disturbed and felt scratchy and prickly. I could not concentrate on work. I came home earlier; her picture was rolling on my head. I took a cigarette and started sketching her beautiful face on a chart paper with pencil. I was determined that I would purpose her next day. "Flowers are the best way to express your emotions and feelings", I remembered this quotation and got a red rose to present her.

That night was the longest night for me; I got up at five in the morning. I practised in front of mirror time and again. Then it was time to move, I carried a red rose and went near our meeting point. That place seemed something special on that day. I waited and waited but she did not come; it was already more than an hour. Few meters far from the place I saw people gathering. I moved towards there and saw an accident. Pushing and shoving crowd; I entered there and found a girl hit and killed by taxi. My flower fell from my trembling hand.
She was dead.

Thanks for reading.....

Rythm, nice story. Your writing is simple yet so touchy one. Keep writing.

Amazing jyu, yours also nice one.

rhythm Nice new one...aani amazing keep up the good works...:)
aani arko life story kahile aaunchha Rhythm???
:)
Nirman

:)

nice one sis

yeti lekhna time kasari paune ho

Thanks all for your comments really appreciate it.

The small droplets of water ran down her back and chilled her to her bones. Her hair was drenched and her clothes had started to cling to her body exposing her luscious curves. She was slightly shivering. It was weird how the weather could change with the blink of an eye and turn a hot summer morning to a chilly wet afternoon. She was more worried about what was going to happen to her make-up. She had been successful in hiding her face from the horizontal rain trying to thrust itself directly to her eyes. Her eyeliner and mascara would be completely messed up and she would look like a creature sent from hell. Only god knew why she had to be traveling on a motorbike in weather like this. Hari should have been more responsible than to send his cousin on a bike to get her.

She ran her hand through her hair one more time in an effort to soothe her big curls. The once fully tamed curls were now nothing but a bundle of serpent-like clusters clinging to her shoulders and chest.
?There goes my dream of giving a movie-star entrance? she thought to herself. Her stainless white pants that had a see-through appearance were drenching wet, and her expensive chiffon shirt that was clinging to her was now totally ruined. She could taste the slightly salted raindrops in her lips.

Once done with the thorough examination of herself, she diverted her attention to the man sitting in front of her. He was her ?dewar? but was yet seven years older to her. The first time she had seen him, his teasing eyes had sent an electric jolt through her body. Her uncared and isolated body had cried out for attention and a sensation of warm liquid had started flowing through the pit of her stomach. Her heart had ached for the first time, and she had wondered if her enormously happy life was really a ?not-so-happy? one. He was approximately five feet and eight inches, standing six inches taller than her and four inches shorter than Hari.

On a close examination she had decided that his nose was a bit too long, and he had a hunch back when he walked. The way he dressed was a bit too formal for her taste, and he did seem to be a bit more serious than of her liking. ?There!!? Lalita thought to herself ?now no more fantasy of the man with the haunting eyes.? But she had woken up next morning with sweat over her body with the forbidden dreams of being ravaged by those eyes.

She had been married for 8 years, and now at the age of 29 she had never felt like this about any man. Not even Hari. Hari had come along in her life and she had accepted him hoping that he would be the one to change her life. Though he was 12 years older to her, but he had instantly been the prisoner of her beauty, and had given a silent promise to fulfill her every wish and desire. So, with eyes full of awe, she had married him, and he had been truthful to every word. He treated her like a princess, and showered her with gifts and jewelry. His eyes always admired her body and made her feel and realize that she had the body of a goddess that was an envy of young and old.

She had learned how to dress herself in a way that made every curve look more pronounced. She had been d?cor her eyes so that they held an invitation and a promise of the unknown. Eyes that held people captive as her slaves and let go when she desired to. She had enjoyed every part of her make over. Hari had been very devoted first, but later he had gone back to his own ways. Sometimes she would her the cries coming out of his room, or silent moans of desire and fulfillment. She felt a desire well up in herself and she would dream of someone who would make her reach the seventh heaven. But never did she picture Hari as the man who took her to the trip to paradise. Nor did she except or intend to share the feeling of lone with him. She respected him and felt a strong commitment to him, but she had never felt that she could love him. He was more like a part of family that was missing in her life since the time she was 11.

Adarsh was different. Though he wasn?t as big or handsome as Hari, but his eyes had captivated her and had smiled to her. The smile had reached deep within her heart and was stubbornly imprinted inside her. She knew he had the same feelings for her too, but they were bound by their relationship to be courteous and pretend like the strong vibe did not exist. They had been successfully avoiding each other for the past few weeks, but every time their eyes met, she would be electrified. And today Hari had sent him over to get her. Lalita wondered if it was on purpose, to tease her and torture her so that he could silently laugh at her.

?Adarsh, how long is it before we reach there?? Lalita wondered why they weren?t stopping somewhere for the rain to stop.

?Bhauju, I am sorry but I should not have come to pick you up in a bike,? was his voice husky or was it her imagination? ?Daju told me to get you right away so I could not wait for the car to be back. I should have been thinking more clearly. I know that a two hour drive is difficult in a bike.? How could he tell her that he had not brought the car because he couldn?t stand the trauma of sitting beside her and hearing her talk in that sweet voice. How could he keep his eyes off her when she was sitting there right beside him?

?Adarsh, if you don?t mind can we stop somewhere and wait for the rain to stop or at least slow down?? Adarsh noted for the first time that Lalita was shivering. She was carefully avoiding touching him in anyway, but he could still feel her shiver.

His heart contracted at the thought of her sitting there and trying her best to be not feel the cool breeze blow through her. How could he have been so insensitive? ?Avik dada?s house is right across the corner, we can stop there and wait for the rain to stop.?

As they got off the bike Adarsh stood there stunned. He was totally dumb founded with the view that she presented. Her smooth complexion seemed to be beaming. Her long hair was clinging to her and the translucent shirt seemed to be her second skin. She was shivering. Despite her state, she looked like a child shivering in the midst of winter and had there been no relation between them he would take her in his arm and comfort her with soothing words. It took all his effort and control to keep his hands off her.

Lalita accepted her jacket and smiled at him. She snuggled to it, his scent sending forbidden ideas of what could be. ?We might as well stay here and get you changed before you catch a cold.?
She nodded like an innocent child. Her eyes looked dreamy yet scared. They went inside the house side-by-side, both quiet yet a thousand words being spoken in the midst of silence where only the pouring sound of the rain could be heard.

Oops... I just re-read my posting and realized there are like a zillion mistakes I made. Please read over those... (man I have to improve my typing!!darn)

i guess there is next part too !! am i true !

Rythm sis, nice romantic one.....liked very much...Keep posting !!! :)

Pundit.. ya i think there is more to come... and sristi sis:) Thanks... am glad that you liked it.. will surely post later...

nice narration!

rythm,
bn reading .. impressive. anticipating thrilling sequels (o:

woke to the sound of pouring rain the wind would wisper and i think of you

where is the sequel????....... i mean latter portion......

ab_belial... thought of me?? hehehe.. .thapap thanks... the later story will come... dun worry will post soon..:)

humm think of you re hehe may be