" You enjoyed his touch , Didn't you Shristi? "
He saw me obviously. His dark glance burned holes on my skin. I tried to look back but he grabs my wrists and yanked me towards him. My body crashed into his chest, before get pressed against it.
" I...
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Once Rabindranath said,
" তোমরা যে বলো দিবস-রজনী 'ভালোবাসা' 'ভালোবাসা'- সখী, ভালোবাসা কারে কয়! সে কি কেবলই যাতনাময় ? সে কি কেবলই চোখের জল? সে কি কেবলই দুখের শ্বাস ? লোকে তবে করে কী সুখেরই তরে এমন দুখের আশ ? "
{ You all always keep talking about love ! Dear, what is ' love ' actually? Is that only a process of pain? Is that only brings tears? Is that only a deep sigh of our heart? Then does people always worship pain in expectations of getting a little amount of pleasure? Is that all the love called? }
We all know that once our time will stop, where our love is destined to be aparted. We'll break again. Tears will try to soothed our pain, but the ache of our heart will gulped us.
But still we want love. We want to be loved.
I know, in the phrase I'm in right now, my heart is craving for comfort parallelly it's scared of being betrayed again. My brain is controlling my emotions or I should say, it's trying to control but.......
The amount of care and comfort it's getting from Mr. Singhania, no warning is working right now.
His every touch, every words, every single gaze and the way he's downing himself for me, I don't know if it's fake or not my heart is running for him.
Wearing the salwaar after a warm bath, I dry my wet locks before brushing it to let it wave freely.
I didn't know how this dress was on my bag but I love this dress. It's a soft lemon yellow coloured anaarkali designed with white lace, full sleeves, the back has a deep round cut and the 'dori ' behind there has two small latkaan .
As I don't have any makeup here except a tint lip gloss , picked it from the mall, I wear it. Putting my dupatta on the left shoulder , I spin before the mirror to check myself.
I remember Mr. Singhania's words from the shopping mall. His each and every words touched my body when I could feel his finger on my tongue. I could only compliment. Compliment!
I can't look ugly! I'm not ugly!
Ahhhh! Mahadevvvv !
I'm insane! A complete insane.
That bustard is making me all of this.
I rushed out of the washroom when I found him sitting on his couch working something on his laptop. By the time he has already changed his clothes, dressed himself in a grey formal shirt along with a black jeans. His hair is brushed back except some strands which is falling upto his forehead.
