Clean Bowled - A story of two identical souls.

4.

Inline comments are much invited.

Prithvi

A pretty girl entered in my class II-A, holding her father's hand in a firm grip. She was radiating conviction, courage, and clarity. Her dark black hair, which was captivating for her tall and threadlike figure, tied in a pony with a white-thick elastic loop.

She was in our school uniform, black skirt reaching to her knees and white shirt with a black tie. She is a new admission. She looked around the entire class with her big, round black eyes.

A dark blue 'avenger' school bag was in her father's hand. Her father sat on his knees at her level and whispered something to her, to which she shook her head with a pout. Her father chuckled and kissed her temple and might ask another question, to which she again pout and shook.

I was looking at her from my fifth bench in the middle row. I can't sit in the front row because I don't like studying. Also, I can't sit on the last bench because my sycophant sisters can't keep their mouths shut in front of mom and dad. My friend Akhil was busy flying paper plane in class, so I was alone in my seat.

She must have been affected by my gaze and looked in my direction. I gave her a small smile; she returned it with a big smile. Her father looked between us and came to my bench. I shift on my bench, giving her space to sit. Her father lifted her up and made her sit beside me.

There was no need to lift her up; she has the same height as me and can climb the seat on her own, but girls are always princesses.

Same as boys are crocodiles.

Her father gave her a kiss on the head and placed the bag on her back. He looked at me with a smile. "Hey, what's your name?" He asked softly, ruffling my hair.

I settled my hair in place with an annoyed look at him. "Prithvi Gujaral, uncle," I have a thing for my full name.

I was trying to look at him, but my gaze fell on her. She was not just another girl, not another classmate; she was something different....... from others. Though I have many girls in class who smiles at me but her was different. It sat in my heart and pumped it all over again.

He chuckled at my exasperation and said, "Gentleman, take care of my girl." He left the class not before giving her another kiss on head.

"I promise"

She giggled, covering her mouth, looking in some direction where Akhil was fighting with Akshansh, the class monitor over a paper plane.

Her giggles are still beats in my heart. Her smile still sets me to peacefulness.

Bad day or good day all I want is her. Victory or Defeat all I want to hold is her. Truth or false all I want to hear is her. Richness or poor all I want is to hold her hand.

Since that day, I saw her first, only death can do us apart.

"Chicken biryani. Done. Chicken korma. Done. Chicken lollipop, under process," Bethany chirped, wiping her wet hands and taking me back from my thoughts.

I look around the messy kitchen. "Only chicken." Removing the lid, I sniff chicken lollipop. She grimaced and smacked my hand. She doesn't like when someone disturbs her cooking.

"She loves chicken," Beth says, running a Spetula in the hot food, "and you love to eat what she loves." Swaying a few hair strands coming out of her tight bun over her head, she continues, her knee-length floral dress swung around.