THE CIVIL WAR

With a pair of kohl-rimmed eyes and a smile in them, she stares at him sometimes. The language those eyes speak is so profound that he finds it difficult to gauge the depth in them. Every time she nods her head in agreement while looking at the floor and being inclined to his words synchronously, he feels a winning moment. And then she smiles looking at him. That bright smile makes him see sunshine all around. It is at that moment that he feels drenched in happiness.

But what more does he see? He sees another familiar face smiling at him with the vigour and energy of a child calling him #Sexy. He blushes to the core. Seeing that she laughs like a child. The enthusiasm she carries creates an aura of innocence exactly like a child…high and transparent like a clear running stream. She is like a radiating flower which he fears if he touches, may tarnish the glow. He loves spending time with her. She cares but the problem is how does he infer that he is someone exclusive to her. She does that to everyone. She is a pure soul. How to make his share in her psychology is a question which haunts him.

Damn! He is so confused, by a dilemma. After hearing all of it, I just say “Tum apna prashna leke kaal ke paas jio mitra…. who tamari sahaita awash karenge”. And then I had to survive a fatal attack. Man! Ashiqs are dangerous!!!