Hello everyone…! Thank you for taking out time…nd reading my story…I hope that I haven’t disappointed u nd will never do in future also…!
Btw..does anyone know…where’s Nikki? She just disappeared suddenly…plz if anyone knows abt it…let me know..!
This one is short..at first.. It was even shorter..but then I thought..u all will kill me…so I let go of some suspense..nd made it a bit longer…I m posting one part each day…so u all r not having a prblm to keep up wid me right?
So let’s begin wid…
It has been a month now. I am sitting in the balcony of my rented apartment room. As I sip the hot chocolate and take in its smell, it reminds me of him. I suddenly feel his lips on mine and his arms around me but all of this is an illusion. So after one month there have been many theories that I have come up with but the best one is this: From the time he told me his name to the time he disappeared, one thing was clear he always knew this was meant to happen. He was meant to leave without any trace, just one name- Shravan. He didn’t tell me his full name or what did he do. He left me without saying anything. He never wanted to me to find him.
But going against his wishes, I still tried because I wanted answers. But their may be hundreds of Shravans in this big city and I couldn’t find where mine was.
I checked the phone directory but there were so many of them. I tried and tried but had to give up at last. Now I am left with nothing but hope of seeing him back.
I pick the newspaper kept on my table to read what’s going on in the outside world. I turn the pages when I finally come across a small article which is written by Shravan, his full name isn’t mentioned. I read the article and by the last two lines I know its him. The last two lines say: Darkness was never meant to scare you, it was always meant to teach you that there is no day without night. The darkness makes us appreciate the light in our life.
My beats start getting faster. Was it really him? Why was he hiding his identity from the world? I bang the cup of hot chocolate on the table and get up from there. I run to my laptop with the newspaper in my hand. By the time my laptop opens, I glance down to other details like his twitter handle and blog address etc. I open his blogs and go through them and now I am 100% sure its him. But how do I meet him? If I write to him and mention its me then he will never meet me and if I pose as a normal fan then he will not have time. So what should I do?
I wait on the bridge in the park. The burqua covering my face is really suffocating me till death. Why was I doing all this? I question myself. Because I want to get some answers! For that I had to write to him that I was a Muslim lady who had read his article and was inspired a lot by him. I lured him to come to meet me saying that I had some issues which really need to be sorted out and by his articles, he really looked like the man I needed to approach. I don’t know whether he will come or no. But that’s all I can do-try. He was supposed to meet me here at sharp 6. It has already been thirty minutes since I waited here for him. This outfit irritates me as I don’t have a habit. I feel damn hot and suffocated so finally my irritation takes over my patience.
I decide to leave but then I see his tall figure coming towards me. He hasn’t changed a bit by his appearance. His hair is still the most striking feature of his which are now set perfectly into spikes. Blue jeans cover his long legs. He wears a baby pink shirt with a deep blue coat over it. As I see him approaching me, his one hand is in his pocket and the other is going through his ever so perfect hair. He still looks smart but his face doesn’t reflect happiness. He looks different from the time I saw him on train.