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Never In My Wildest Dreams

You came into my world like high beams on some two lane highway in the middle of a desert night; just as I lost the fight between thirty more miles and pulling over for a nap until sunrise. Fracturing my momentary dream into a million pieces of panic and surprise as your light burned through the lids of my eyes and your horn’s noise grabbed at nerves that shook my insides alive.

I remember the giant halo of your glow and light coming head on, the fog in my brain was overwhelming, as muscle memory spurred both hands and they registered on the wheel. My grasp was wrapped tight and pulled sharply, sending me into a wrenching swerve; a sudden desperate attempt to avoid our impending collision, as you careened head long my way. In the moments that came, I couldn’t tell if you were slowing or attempting to avoid the obstruction of my vehicle that had wondered into your lane. I only knew the fear as my life flashed before my frozen, bulging eyes. I felt my knuckles strain, threatening to rip flesh, as they pulled against the tension of my grasp on the wheel.

I remember feeling my knee slam under the dash as terror took me and I over compensated. With pang in knee, I stabbed my foot back down at the break. I remember the feeling of gravity shift as my vehicle began to swerve and my body flatten into the door panel as I began the fight to regain control of my vehicle, careening down that lonely highway.

I remember my body recognized and felt something I couldn’t have truly felt. At least something felt different, this specific time, than any other before or after. Both the fear of loosing control and this new feeling are forever linked somehow. It was something I felt as my shoulder pressed into the drivers side door panel: the feel of the gravel beneath my tires, not in the normal sense of peeling out, or hot rodding around a turn, or when you are navigating a gravel incline and a tire slips, spinning a bit. But, I remember feeling every, single, piece, of gravel, as my tires slid over them, like they were brail desperately attempting to be read by someone with an untrained hand.

And suddenly, I remember, I was fighting gravity to avoid being thrown into the empty passenger seat next to me; with the dutiful assistance of my seat belt I remained square in seat. By this point my perspiration was beading at my brow and my palms were slick and damp. The smell filling my nose was terrible: rubber skidding across tar and the metal chemical burn of clutch mixed with burning metallic fumes of locked, red hot breaks. The noxious smoke produced from the instant tire tread wear of tires attempting to grapple with the texture of pavement at sixty miles per hour and the dust thrown up from the narrow desert road was thick in the air as my vehicle began to spin violently. This must have been one of my wildest dreams.

Your tail lights passed by my view out the front windshield a few times before I came to a slow, lazy roll backwards, eventually coming to a halt on the pavement; vision now dizzy and disoriented. My motion had not stopped however. The spinning had turned my head into one of those twirling carnival rides and transformed my extremities into shaking nerve noodles, who’s vibration emanated from my core.

Regaining my composure, I found myself immediately worried about who I had almost collided with and what state they were in; my concern seemingly met with reply as your hazard lights lit up from the tail lights of your vehicle ahead. I remember blood pumping in my temples as I raced toward your vehicle, grateful to be alive, and grateful you were still on the road and in one piece as well. Closing the distance to your flashing hazards just hoping you were okay. I felt embarrassed and foolish for putting myself, and you, at risk not stopping a few miles back. I prayed you were not scared or upset with me. Not knowing what to expect as I slowed to a jog nearing your vehicle, I took in the details of the multiple spins my vehicle completed as it whipped round and round directly down the center of the highway. I took in the sight of fresh tread on the pavement left by my tires, scrawled like a signature of some artist signing their work of near miss.

I remember as I looked up again to where your vehicle had come to a stop, that you too where now running my direction. As we approached each other I could tell we both did a quick visual assessment of each other, our vehicles, the tire tread scrawl on the road. We asked each other if the other was okay and learned no harm had come to the other other than shaken nerves and a bit of embarrassment on my part.

I remember hearing your laugh for the first time as we sat on the side of that highway in the middle of the night and lost track of time. We talked about everything, and nothing, as we watched the stars and smiled at each other honestly. Morning came faster than either of us expected announcing it’s a rival gloriously. The sunrise was exceptionally beautiful that morning. As we peacefully watched, finally pausing in conversation for the first time since we met, we took in it’s orange, blue, yellow, and pink shifting colors sharing glances at each other now and then, smiles and blushing cheeks as we did.

As the morning sun’s heat set upon our skin and the brightness of the desert view began to become overwhelming you turned to me with a smile. I remember taking your business card and the electricity fire through my fingertips as our hands touched for the first time.

Your touch felt so exotic then, like some distant land I had read a million books about and knew every detail of but had only learned from in the texts written in those pages. I imagine I looked like an adventurer, captivated and in awe, as they stepped of an old steam engine train onto a new landscape. Amusing the locals watching a new traveler standing starstruck seeing, smelling, and feeling the foreign environment they had read so much about but were only experiencing in person for the first time.

As I put your business card into my wallet, so many unknown feelings and pressing questions that I wanted to ask you were coming to my head fighting each other for place in line and internally pleading for one more second of your time. They were interrupted by one major new question I hadn’t considered so distracted by my internal conflict.

When would I would see you again? This question was followed by an even larger: Would I see you again? I was so caught off guard at their staggering weight I remember feeling intimidated by how much it meant to me. I chickened out. I didn’t ask and though in that moment didn’t know what to do with myself, or my shaken emotions, as we said our good byes.

Before you turned to depart I managed to make sure you too had my number and awkwardly, shuffled back, half facing you, half trying to walk away. I could tell you noticed in the words your smile always seemed to hold.

I remember you driving away and the stress I felt realizing we were going in opposite directions for the first time since we met and how something immediately felt missing in my world. I remember kicking myself not wanting to end up just some guy who you met and called you down the road or being just a story of a time you almost got hit head on by some guy in the middle a desert one night. A bit late, but just in time, I buckled my seat belt and decided not to become that guy. I threw my vehicle in drive and accelerated after you. Headed in your direction for the first time.

My heart raced as I drove fast to catch up to your vehicle once again and as I pulled up behind you, obnoxiously got your attention with my horn and the flashing of my lights. I couldn’t believe I had chased after you like a crazy! What would you think of this? Was I crazy?

As you stepped out of your vehicle your beauty was staggering and I confidently acknowledged, almost applauded myself; I had made the right decision. I jogged up to you on the pavement of that two lane highway and blurted out “When will I see you again?!”. Your laugh told me everything as it often did, I would learn.

I canceling my plans, my new job would have to wait, or I’d find a new one when I got to my destination. I suddenly had you placed at the center of my life’s main screen and didn’t for one second consider what else was on outside in my periphery. Everything seemed like it mattered just a little bit less than the focus my mind found when trained on you. I spent the day with you, headed in your direction. We played, both lost in the world together, on a new adventure, and loving every moment of it.

By that evening I was already in love, and knew it as for the first time I watched the sunset reflect forever in your eyes. I will never in my wildest dreams forget your smile when I admitted my love to you as we watched those stars again, together, that second night.

I also remember how we really met, and this isn’t it! Not even close! But it sure could have been. I mean, some things are similar to how we met all those years ago. You do remember don’t you?

The night we first met we were hurling in each other’s direction at a million miles per hour and barely missed colliding. That near miss put us into permanent dance as we orbited each other - dancing in and out of each other’s life, always friends, lovers, strangers, family; whatever we needed to be for the other at that specific moment in time. The first night we met I knew I had met the most amazing woman and I couldn’t believe that I had finally found you; never in my wildest dreams did I think you were really out there.

We did watch the stars and talked until the sun came up. We also spent the next day playing together and I really did watch the sunset reflect forever in your eyes. I did fall in love with you, only immediately, almost at first sight.

My love switch flipped the very moment you said “Hiiii” that way you did. Your mysterious brown eyes - strands coloring them wonderful, as your cheeks smiled for days. They reached into me latching onto my heart and I did not resist the comfort of your grasp. There was just something so familiar in the way you drew me in and made a place for me in your world. I felt like I had seen this smile of yours before somewhere and it belonged right after that “Hiiii”, and right in front of me. There was also something so familiar in the way you said my name, always smiling, you giggled a lot more back then.

I chased after you and that smile, following the echoes of that giggle from that moment on without any regret and loved every moment you chased me back laughing as we played. I remember how grateful I was getting to know you, and how grateful I always will be to have spent all the moments we shared through the years, building our story. The rest of that story and how we really first met is ours. A story to be remembered another time I think.


I remember the many other things that are similar in the story I have told but happened completely differently, to a completely different moment, in a completely different part of our story that I’d like to share in this letter to you. I think it is supposed to help...telling you these things, we always shared our deepest feelings with each other and It’s hard holding them all by myself. I’m working on it, love, I promised. Writing these letters to you and the chapters of our time together contained within.
In this part of our story, the true part of this story, and part of our chapters I’m sharing in this letter is a moment where I remember a collision that happened head on and it all started with a phone call.

I remember we were both asleep at the wheel and wholly unprepared as I raced down the highway to you. I remember how sudden the impact came after I reached your side. I remember the pain and jarring as your light in my world, that light that engulfed my vision completely, was in a moment no longer present. I remember my confusion as my momentum came to a complete, and immediate, stop. I remember that I didn’t even have time to scream or brace myself as everything in my world shattered in a devastating explosion and all it’s shiny pieces showered into the air around me. I remember that I didn’t even have both hands on the wheel as my life turned upside down. I remember that there was no seat belt to fasten me in as my breath choked in my throat, stalled, as if suspended mid air.

I remember the look, taste, sound, smell, touch, and feeling of every, single, thing, in that hospital room. I remember the smell of my tears in your hair. I remember how soft your skin was and that your fingernails were not painted like they normally were as I held your hand. I remember the feeling of my nerves as they achieved complete pandaemonium within me. I remember I was trembling as I struggled to breath between crying, then breathing, then crying, tasting the snot running from my nose mixed with the salt that clung to my face as I sat at your side. I remember hearing the sobs in the room as your heart rate monitor stopped blinking. I remember that exact moment you left me. I remember all of the feelings I felt at that moment as my emotions burned deep within and imprinted them as if by brand, permanently emblazoned on my soul. I remember not having the words for them then and I still do not have words for them now.

I remember every single detail, reflected in the pieces of my world as they crashed to the polished surface of the tiny room’s grey and white checkered tile floor. I remember that for the first time in a long time we were no longer running toward each other, or in the same direction together, and you weren’t there to make sure I was okay. I remember praying that you would be okay but my heart didn’t hear the echo of yours anymore to be sure. I remember hoping you were not lonely just minutes after you left and began crying: differently, because I didn’t know how to be there for you like I promised I always would be. I remember wanting so badly to chase after you, especially in the months that followed your funeral to keep that promise I made. I remember wanting to make sure you weren’t alone and be by your side as you took off on this new adventure to make sure you got under way okay. I remember trying to lighten my mood and joke about you making a new friend jealous, telling them about a guy that loved you unconditionally in another life. But, I remembered I could not chase you this time; I couldn’t be there to hold you if you happened to fall in love with him and he broke your heart. There was no catching up to you minutes down the road, just to see your smile again and hear you laugh at me for being silly. There was no way to pick you up off the ground and piece your heart back together with pieces of mine if it was broken this time.

I can only hope you receive all the letters like this one and that you are able to answer my call when I get home. We can meet in the middle of some two lane highway in the clouds, talking about life down below, or everything, or nothing, and laugh at the concept of time.

I can’t wait for that moment I see you again and we can remember all the years since the night we first met and remind each other how that story really went. I want so badly to be reminded exactly how it feels seeing the sunset reflect forever in your eyes like I used to.

I remember you every single day and wrote this letter to remind you: that more than anything, I patiently wait to learn how we finish our story, because never in my wildest dreams, could these stars be as beautiful as I remember, all those moments, I spent watching them with you.

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Mujhe apna school time bahut yaad aata he...
Wo prayer se pehle Id card bachho se lana
Or ribbons ko sharpners se cut kr k baatna
Mujhe yaad aata he...
Wo tera chhoti chhoti baato pr mujhse ladna
Or mere liye dusro se lad jana
Mujhe bahut yaad aata he...
Ha mujhe wo school time bahut yaad aata he...
Wo hamara lecture k bich me isharo se baate karna...
Sir se chupte hue tedi-meri shakle banakr ek dusre ko hasana
Mujhe yaad aata he...
Wo questions puche jane k waqt sir hamse na puchle is dar se najre nichi kr k beth jana
Or bach jane pr milne wala wo shukun
Mujhe yaad aata he... Ha wo school time mujhe bahut yaad aata he...
Wo interwals ka besabri se intezar karna
Or interwal hone pr class se bhagna
Mujhe bahut yaad aata he....
Ha wo wakt mujhe bahut yaad aata he
Wo class me hamara shor machana or teachers ka keep silence chillana
Mujhe yaad aata he...
Wo lunch time se pehle khane k liye man dolna
Or sir ka hame ullu bolna
Mujhe yaad aata he...
Ha mujhe school time bahut yaad aata he...
Fir lunch time pr ek dusre k lunch box se khana
Or khane se jyada baate banana...
Wo lunch k baad class me late jana
Or teachers ka hame pakana
Mujhe yaad aata he...
Wo chemistry lab me hamara different solutions ko milakr pagalpanti karna...
Or bio lab me slides tut jane pr unko dhire se chupakr rakhna
Mujhe bahut yaad aata he...
Wo games ki subah se planning karna
Or games period me basketball court k liye boys se ladna
Mujhe yaad aata he
Wo tera mujhse ball chhin kr bhagna
Or mera tujhe ball basket karne se rokna
Mujhe yaad aata he...
Or fir us chhina-chhani me mera gir jana
Or tumhara mera majak udana
mujhe yaad aata he...
Wo games period khatm hone k baad hand wash karne k bahane se washroom k bahar hamara time pass karna
Or fir class me truth or dare khelna
Mujhe yaad aata he...
Ha mujhe school time bahut yaad aata he...
Pr sabse jyada to mujhe wo daily tere sath 8 ghante bitana bahut yaad aata he...
Aaj bhi tu mujhse u to he milti...
Pr pata nhi kyu wo purani nadaniyo wali hasi ab mere chehre pr kyu nhi khilti...
Wese to mehaj tere sath hone se mere chehre pr real smile aajati he...
Masti bhi ham karte he or tu sath me samay bhi mere bitati he...
Khushi to mujhe ab bhi behad milti he...
Pr kuch to he jiski kami fir bhi khalti he..
Khush to me ab bhi hu
Mere yaro k sath me aaj bhi hu...
Kisi baat ka he ab dar nhi
Teachers se chhup kr lunch khane ki ab jarurat nhi ...
Pr ab wo shetaniyat he khi ghum si gayi
Wo playground pr khelne ki aadat chhut si gayi...
Wo teachers ko pareshan karne ka chance ab milta nhi
Wo shetaniyo wala phul ab khilta nhi
Shayad isiliye wo school time mujhe yaad aata he...
Ha.. Wo wakt mujhe behad yaad aata he...

.......Muskan writes

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SCHOOL: A word for the students who are still in it but an emotion who are passed out!
SCHOOL: It's a place where we cry when we enter for the first time & leave it for the last time.
SCHOOL: Infamous because we're kept in rules but famous for the memories of breaking those rules!
SCHOOL: A playground of memories and the souls of those memories still wandering those corridors where we spent most of our recess time.
SCHOOL: A place where we learn to live together with the strangers who turned out to be the greatest gift of life.
SCHOOL: A place from where you want to go out as soon as possible but once out you craved to be in it again. 
SCHOOL: A lifeless building but still soulful with our memories.
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.
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I Miss My SCHOOL!😢

#Nojoto #naporimo #School

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PEACE
Every morning as I walk to school through the dark blue decrepit world, I feel like I’m coming down with the flu. By the time I reach the school, my entire body is depleted as if I have spent the night in chills, reabsorbing the damp excreting from my own pores. I am always excreting something. My ex-boyfriend noticed it. He would ask why I was always cold and sweating, why I was always at war with myself. When he licked the excretions off my body, I would ask myself, Is this a life? He used to say dirty things to me like, Desubjectify me, bitch. The way he fucked was senseless and crazy. I don’t get fucked like that anymore. As a teacher I am not getting fucked and the children can tell. Some of the children are teenagers and menstruating and ejaculating. They have no control over their excretions and, in that way, perhaps we’re all alike. Sometimes they talk to me as if I’m a nun. No, little children, I’m not a nun. I never was. There are people where I am standing, outside the school’s entrance. I am waiting to open the door. I encounter someone’s father. He has a cord of wood strapped to his back. How are you, Maya’s teacher? No, how are you? Then a different father holds the door open for me. Go on in, he says. I have always hated people’s families and fathers. The school is inside what used to be an American legion hall. It’s an open space the size of a gymnasium with hundreds of chairs organised in circles and two offices and practice rooms and closets. Some of the children are huddled in clumps on the floor like mounds of peanut shells. The peanut shells are listening to the Notorious B.I.G. I touch the handle of the teachers’ bathroom. There is one adult bathroom for thirty adults. The sweat on my skin dries and leaves a thin film. The door is locked. A phone is ringing somewhere. I wait patiently. I am filled with
#peace as I imagine my day’s reasonable activities. When the door opens, the principal steps out. She makes eye contact with me then her eyes shift quickly away as if there is a car accident in the middle of my face. I go into the bathroom. A pimple must be bleeding. I tried to lance it off this morning. It gives me character; I like to look rough. I don’t like the principal. Almost everyone else is summoned to her office every day. They are having secret meetings without me. Poor Lenore, they say behind my back. She can’t do anything right. That Lenore, what a crazy mess, Lenore is a shit teacher. I have been inside the principal’s office only once. Her office is covered in a wallpaper patterned with drawings of diverse parents and children, all of them holding hands, each body linked to another body in a multiplication of bodies that goes from the ceiling to the floor, designed to stimulate a feeling of hope and community and tolerance. The principal and her assistant, obviously a lesbian couple, discuss Marxist teaching strategies. This is months ago. The wallpaper repulses and overwhelms. They ask me what I see myself doing here. To be honest, I say, I’m not sure I see myself here at all. We think you’d be a perfect fit, the principal says. I notice that the principal has long fingernails, overgrown and ridged with a recent sickness. The index finger on each hand is trimmed neatly, most likely for finger fucking. A few days later they call and call and leave messages on my answering machine. We want to hire you, one of them says desperately, will you call us back? Lenore, we’d love to have you on the team. Are you going to call us? Well, are you? I never call them back. At the time I’m too busy getting fucked. I’m sort of miserable. Then my boyfriend leaves me for another woman. I see the woman in town, she looks like a secretary or a nun, she’s boring, I am bored with myself. What disgusting humans everywhere! I develop a rash all over my body. My hair starts to fall out in long, lovely brown streaks. I find the streaks on my pillow when I wake up in the morning. A month after the principal and her assistant call me, I show up at the school. Another body is just what we need right now, the principal says sincerely. Lenore, says the assistant, we think it’s wonderful you’ve decided to come! I leave the bathroom and begin to teach children of various ages and abilities and it’s all pretty neutral. I wear a blue handkerchief wrapped around my head. When I teach I sweat. The children ask me if I’m uncomfortable. Some of them are wearing winter coats and gloves and hats. I read somewhere that in order to find tranquillity, you have to go outside of yourself. Your head has to feel like a balloon attached to a neck. And it doesn’t have to be your neck, it can be anyone’s. It just has to be a neck. A different book says that in order to find tranquillity you have to go further inside yourself. So which is it? Inside or outside? When I get up in front of the children and teach, I imagine a painting of a green field with gentle hills and trees and clouds and a river that curves slowly around a bend. There’s an old woman in the middle of the field wearing a red shawl, playing a fugue on her fiddle. That’s my tranquillity. In the afternoon a coworker asks how things are going, I tell him that teaching is going very well for me. I will not last long. The children are restless; I get hit in the head with a basketball. The ball smacks the back of my handkerchief, bounces to the floor, and rolls into a corner with spiders. When I was little my parents abandoned me for a weekend. They went somewhere and had fun. I tell the children I’m an orphan. They throw chairs at one another. It’s because the chairs are plastic and weigh like three pounds. The bell rings. It’s the end of the day. I have accomplished nothing. I’m bending over to pick up milk cartons. It feels good to bend over; it reminds me of getting fucked. My handkerchief falls off. It’s soaked with sweat. The leftover milk makes me feel bad so I drink it. Someone sees me without my handkerchief. Poor Lenore. Poor Lenore with no hair. The person tells me the day is over and I should go home. I don’t know what to say to that. I put on my coat. I’m standing outside the school. A man I’ve never seen before locks the front door. There are always new bodies appearing everywhere. When I was little, when my parents left me alone for a weekend, I occupied myself. I was pure then but not peaceful. I was a bird flying over a waterfall in a forest. I was an insect with three hundred legs and monstrous antennae. I was the time on the clock when children are called home for dinner. That’s what I was then. And there was nothing nice about the apartment I grew up in. The only good thing about it was the inner courtyard where people could grow plants and sit outside in peace. One morning I saw a man and a woman having sex quietly on a chaise lounge. There was a new atmosphere. There are genitals attached to bodies and bodies attached to minds. The woman’s pants are twisted around her ankles, and her ass is moving up and down slowly, and seeing her body move like that makes me dizzy. Sometimes there are minds attached to genitals. When the man notices me staring out from behind a leafless plant, he lifts the woman off his penis as if she’s a toy. The woman doesn’t seem upset. She pulls up her pants and smiles and crouches down near the leafless plant and tries to give me a hug. There are kind people in the world. There is generosity here. As I stand outside the school and prepare to walk home, I realise I have never owned any plants in my adult life. One day I am going to leave the children, I promise you, I am going to leave this school and never look back and not one child will notice. No. Perhaps one or two of them might. The school is locked and empty. Plants and children are not for me. I don’t care about growing things.

By PATTY YUMI COTTRELL
About the author: The work of PATTY YUMI COTTRELL has been published in BOMB, GULF COAST and BLACK WARRIOR REVIEW, among other places. Her novel SORRY TO DISRUPT THE PEACE will be published this spring. She lives in Los Angeles.
#PattyYumiCottrell

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It was my first day at school.... my new school. Heard about it before that teachers are very strict, students are bold and fluent, no talk in Hindi only English is allowed otherwise, a thin cane is waiting to decorate your palms with beat marks, so yes I was scared. By the way, I am Kiara, a person full of curiosity and creativity. I was not mastero in speaking English but I was sure that I will learn. I entered the class labeled 7th standard.... now it's weird that instead of analyzing the class, my attention was dragged towards a boy behaving as if he has not seen girls before.... I mean he was not staring at but was behaving as he is alegeretic from them. It was Rohan.... although I don't like judging people or making advance perceptions but at that very moment, I didn't like him or to be honest I hated him.......

Classes started and with time all unknown became friends.... oh again let me clarify, girls and boys became friends not among them but within them separately. Now there are two groups.... girls gang and boys gang. Simultaneously we all were divided into different houses.... I was in Yellow, my favorite colour and he was in Yellow, my not so favorite and that too the HOUSE CAPTAIN. I don't know what was his problem.... why he is always like "I me aur mein". He don't speak nicely, he don't walk nicely, he don't behave nicely, he don't smile nicely.... actually he is a jerk.

It's gonna be fun.... fest week is going to start and I am super excited for so many things race, relley, kho-kho, high jump, dance and March past. We started practicing long ago for March Past as it's all about coordination here. Being a Captain, it was Rohan's duty to lead, command and along with that monitor the rest of the house while programmes. We were senior most in school so duties were alotted to us as well. I have to keep younger ones quite as told by so called Rohan.

Sports were started and we all pulled our socks, forgetting that who we HATE, came together to make YELLOW win. Girls won relley and kho-kho and boys won cricket but here comes the most dramatic scene when "Mr. Rohan was immediately taken to classroom after the match followed by school boys CRUSH Ms. Priya and few students including ME.... OK so I didn't go to check on him, it was my class too I had some work.... fine I wanted to see he is hurt or just acting. He shouted like hell when Ms. Priya tried to put dettol. I was curious to see how much he is hurt and I found the same thing which I was expecting.... a SCRATCH that's it, how can he create scene like daily soap over just a small scratch.... he behaved as if he is Rohini not Rohan. He saw me smiling at him and I continued as I love watching him like this.... ah no doubt he too don't leave any chance to bother me as he did the very next day.

I was trying to make children quite so I just said "keep quite otherwise your stupid Captain will come". He heard that.... I thought he would be angry or would not talk to me that we usually don't but Iiiiiii never imagined "what he did that day".... complained to Ms. Priya, like seeeeeeeriously. Are you kidding me.... you are grown up how can you do like nersery child, ahhhhhhhhhhhhh I HATE YOU.

With time things were settled, we got busy into boards and all. I never took any tution classes but in 12th standard I decided to join Nair Aunty's classes for Physics. Rohan also use to come there but this is not which I was bothered about. I was worried about my decision as my father use to teach me till now and I was scared if he will be hurt about my decision. We discussed things and he was fine with it.

At tution on my first day, Rohan was surprised to see me or I should say he was shocked and definitely not happy....... so do I, our friends were aware about this disliking for each other. I don't know but what just happened to my friend's, they use to poke me when Rohan arrives at classes......"look na you both are wearing same colour, see he is staring you and so on".

Boards were on head and atmosphere at home was very tensed. Here suddenly, parents realised their duties. Papa's have to hide laptop chargers, tabs, ipads and Mom's have to hide TV remote, novels. There was a strict rule "NO TV". In all this, I was confused because I started thinking about Rohan, his mischiefs, my fights with him, his stupisities.....his smile, his face, his.......WHAT is happening to me why I am thinking about him.

I tried diverting my mind and focus towards studies alongwith that I thought to figure it out after exams.

We were done with board exams and all other competitive exams also. Now this was the time when we were waiting for our results and college counseling. Our daily routine was to eat, sleep and roam with friends. There were no studies as we don't know what to study, there were no hiding of entertainment stuff, it felt like heaven.......

I figured out the Rohan's matter, I decided to tell him that I think "I love you". I told this to one of our common friend Meera, she told me that Rohan already have a girlfriend. I was broken and there were so many filmy lines which were coming to my mind......"mera pelha pyar adhura reh gaya", "tujhe yaad na meri aayi kisise ab kya kehna", "tu pyar hai kisi aur ka tujhe chahta koi aur hai", "aacha chalti hoon duaooo mein yaad rakhna......". Then I thought to tell him because atleast I will be ok that I told him......

On 9th December, 2011 @ 06:00 PM, I called him and yes Rohan was shocked about my call, I said "I LOVE YOU". Rohan said "I have a girlfriend". I said "I KNOW", I told him "I hope the way you love her, she also do". He took a pause and said "I think so". The call was dropped and I was happy not because I told him but because "if he didn't say YES then also he didn't say NO". We moved on with college. He went Ahemdabad and I went Kelera......

After completion of first semester, students were very happy as it was home coming after soo long. I was packing my bags and was so excited to meet my school friends and may be Rohan.......we reached hometown back to back and planned a reunion. Riya (my school friend) called me and said "Rohan was asking for your number". Ok now where were this comes from.......I asked "WHY". She said she has given my number. I was confused what he wanna say, Is he going to say I......... Naaaa he will not. I was pretty happy that Riya gave him my number as I got to know earlier "he broke up with his girlfriend".

At reunion, we all met and everything went on well. In the evening, Rohan called "I am sorry". I asked "Sorry for what". He said "Sorry because I didn't accept your proposal at that time". I said "Proposal???? it's ok, we were kids and now I imagine that how I proposed you......". We laughed over this thing but I was aware on back of my mind that I still love him and whatever I said was because I didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

Semester break was over and we went to our colleges. Rohan and I started talking on phone. I found him good and he found me practical. With time UG was completed, he started with job and I went for PG degree.

I am 24, have a job but planning to change. Here I am planning to start my career and there my parents are planning to get rid of me.......in simple words, they are planning to get me married which I don't want. All these years I focused on studies and was just not able to stop thinking about him. We talk sometimes and everytime I start loving him more. I imagine him when I am sad I imagine him when I am happy, his only thought brings smile on my face he is always with me I imagine him in every situation I make my own stories with him I fell for him more and more......

Finally on 15th February, 2018 @ 11:00 PM I called him......

Rohan: Hi, kaisa hai beta?

Kiara: (Oh I love him more when he calls me "beta", thinking in mind) Hi, Mein badiya tum kaise ho.

Rohan: I am good.

Kiara: I hope you were not sleeping and even if you were then wake up its quite important.

Rohan: If I say that I was sleeping than I know you won't let me so yeah.......tell me

Kiara: Ok so I am confused ahmmmmmmm Rohan what were you doing?

Rohan: I am pretty sure you didn't call me to ask this.......right?

Kiara: Ok so I just called to say......I mean ask......I mean say......

Rohan: Yeah tell me I am listening

Kiara: Wait a second I think on the back of your mind you know what am I gonna say?

Rohan: Yes but I want to hear it from you.

Kiara: (ab jab sammne wala aise reply karega toh aapko toh positive wines hi aayenge na, thinking in mind) Ok so I wanted......I will start from beginning OK

Rohan: Don't tell me tu mujhe lamba pakane wali hai.

Kiara: Shut up

Rohan: I was kidding beta

Kiara: So Rohan I use to hate you alot from 7th to 12th standard.

Rohan: Hate?

Kiara: Yes and then I don't know what just happened to me and I......

Rohan: Say it

Kiara: I like you

Rohan: Silent.......

Kiara: Ok so I will give background music dhiding dhiding dhiding.......

Rohan: Hehe

Kiara: One more thing.......this is not a question I just wanted to tell you......I don't want any ANSWER from you I just wanna let you know

Rohan: I know you are not dying for me and you don't find me special but yes I am feeling special at this time.

Kiara: Hehe

Rohan: (after a long silence) Hey, I like you too because I can share anything with you, whenever I feel like talking I have you and trust me I don't want you to solve my problems with me......I just want you to sit with me and listen to me.

Kiara: Okk so now you are confusing me......there is a difference between your liking and mine.

Rohan:. Yes, there is a difference.

Kiara: You clarified your side now it's my turn......Rohan......no matter I am sad or happy I always imagine you.....if I have so many problems or if I have solution to each of them.....I just thik that you are with me.

Rohan: Wao I am proud of you because I would never be able to say and I am very glad you said this to ME.

Kiara: Hmmmm

Rohan: Well tomorrow I am leaving for cousins (our common family friend) wedding, you also come na I will be bored there alone.

Kiara: Naaaa you have fun

Rohan: (it's 12:07 PM) I want to say something I hope you will not scold me.....

Kiara: No I will not......tell me

Rohan: I am very sleepy

Kiara: Expected.......you can sleep

Rohan: I will call you once I reach to the wedding point.

Kiara: Sure......

Rohan: Bye beta

Kiara: (don't go......I love you, thinking in mind) Bye.......

I feel like getting him off my head and very next moment I feel like hugging him tightly. I know I love him and also I want to get over him. I will not call it a one sided love story......all I will call it is "a complete love story without an ANSWER".

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