Once upon a time...

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RE-PUBLISHED

Copyrights: PrincessStu2002

Note:-

Anything regarding to harming the writer's feelings will be worth of punishment. No Plagiarism anymore.

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September 26th, 2026

"Ryan!"

Another boys shouted for him to place his rose. Today, all the boys came together to place flowers and wishes for Aryan's mother.

 She died at an early age. Today was her birthday.

 They all were putting some flowers near that cold coffin. Ryan was about to go, but there was a dustbin in his way, where this thin crafted old diary was placed from God knows how much time. He was a kind of attracted towards it. And in no time that diary was in his hand.

"I'm coming, you go!"

He opened it. A thin diary with just two or three papers. Yellow and senile. torn up, teary. But the inked words written on it were still preserved. Seems some really old kind of thing, may be ten or twelve years older?

He opened it sitting on a barren place of greenery.

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26th September,2015

"Thank you O Lord for the time that is now, For all the newness your minutes allow;

Thank you O Lord for the time that is past, For all the values and thoughts that till last;

Thank you for hopes of the day that will come, For all the change that will happen in time;

Thank you O Lord for everything you have given. The Sun, The Moon and the beautiful world to live in."

As the priest announces the prayer, at this saint-John's-wort's type of day. 

It was a beautiful, blank and badly bizarre morning. Those dainty sheen of grass and leaves were blushing to a deeper green; and the year seems like a fair young maid, trembling with strange, wakening pulses on the brink of womanhood, as everyone bowed down.

You must be thinking it is a wedding or something. Well, let me correct you, it is my girlfriend's funeral, so don't try to joke here. Even I'm not in a mood to joke but I wanted to feel funny anyway, to punch out these emotions, of course.

You may have listened and reading all kind of tragic, dramatic and beautiful things about us. We know, we were popular. But now, it's just me, and I don't want to make it more difficult for myself that my girlfriend is no more.

We were MaNan, you know it very well, and always will be.

Nandini Murthy was my first and last love and you never wanted to be felt with the dangerous feeling to address her as 'was'. Our Great Love Story never conquered in this world. And I don't even think this world is worth enough for the real, powerful, celestial love.

She was a common sufferer of some weird named type of cancer, and I'm not interested in biology. She was nineteen. As common thing as ever. Like what else do we expected the reason of her un-existence from earth. Have I told you we were at the same age. But then, she was, and I am. 

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