“Suna hai maine ki aksar kayi logon ko pyaar pehli nazar mein ho jata hai par bina kisi ko dekhe usse pyaar karna kya sambhav hai..?”
"Yeh writer pakka pagal hai, matlab bina kisi ko dekhe mile kaise pyaar ho sakta." Shurti said tauntingly.
"Jahan na pahuche Ravi (sun) wahan pahuche Kavi...!" Kusum said with a smile.
"Kusum thoda sa saaf saaf samjha na..!" Ambi requested.
"Sun ki rays ki bhi ek limit hai woh samundar ki gaharai mein nhi pahuch sakti par ek writer ki soch kahi bhi pahuch sakti hai, woh samundar ki gaharai ke bare mein bhi likh sakta hai aur sun ke bare mein uski kalpana ka koi anth nhi hota....ab soch woh impossible cheejon ko bhi imagine kar sakte hai toh bina kisi ko dekhe pyaar hona toh phir bhi possible hai."
"Hmmm....point toh hai tumhari baat mein....chal read kar." Shruti said.
Kusum smiles and starts reading
•••••|Anjaane|•••••
1945, Calcutta (West Bengal)
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"Dada bus station tumi jaabe?" A girl in her early twenties asked a hand rikshaw puller.
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The rickshaw puller nodded yes and gestured to sit. She looked at him carefully and then realized that he is voiceless . She felt bad for him. She sits in the rikshaw and take out her diary from her hand made bag.
She starts writing
“Pure desh mein aazadi ke liye kranti ki lahar chal pad hai bas kuch din aur phir yeh lehar un angrejo ko hamare desh se nikal degi...hamare Abbu ammi aura hamara pura parivaar un logon ki wajah se mara gya....par jab tak hum zinda hai hamare lahoo ka ek ek katra apne desh ke liye ladega...!”
She closed her diary and then her eyes. A few minutes later she open her eyes as the puller called her.
She gets down from the rikshaw and then pay the money to puller. The puller left from there.
