Kahi Ankahi Batein..

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Enjoy reading. This story is inspired from a Neelesh Mishra story, kison ka kona. Thank you. 😊
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Banaras, doesn't really look that bad as I thought standing on the terrace. Small lanes, old houses, the trident shaped iron rods, which are used for electricity conducting, the blankets and mattresses which lay on the rooftops,indicating that winters are not far away. Almost every lane has a temple and every temple has those bald, white dhoti and kurta wearing pandits. As the evening sun dominates the blue sky, giving it a hint of orange, the mouthwatering aroma of jalebis and samosas filled in the busy lanes of banaras.

When the merit results were announced and I finally made into Banaras Hindu university for masters in literature, my uncle told that he won't allow me to stay in hostel and rather forcefully convinced me to shift in his place. I too with a heavy heart agreed. But I don't know why, this evening right here in Banaras, I liked it.

"Shreyh, tumhare bhaiya itna mota chasma kyu lagate hai?" I turned back hearing the voice and found that my Uncle's 10 year old son was being interrogated by his friend, Aksh in the neighbouring terrace. To which my little brother replied scrunching his nose,"my bhaiya is very intelligent and he reads too many big big books!" He said in his cute childish tone. But Aksh was also kid then, how could he let someone prove him wrong that too in just one line over the argument. So he came up with," My chachi, also reads big books but she doesn't have chashma....." and the word that caught my all attention was the word books.

"Book" they have always been my weakness. From school life to college. From the boring summer afternoons to late night secretively reading under the blankets with those keyring torches. In the midst of the thought processing the other thing that caught my attention was a beautiful swing, placed on Aksh's terrace. It was surrounded by few plants. Out of them the two were even blooming pink and purple. To them was placed a wooden table with few books, but among them was the story of Kafka, oh the very same one which I searched every where in Kanpur, but couldn't find. And now when it's there sitting right in front of me, how do I control. Without taking my eyes off the books I asked Aksh,

"whose are these Aksh?"

Throwing the ball back towards shrey, he said "yeh? These are my chachi's books. You know she doesn't even go to school, then also she keeps on reading the whole day. " he replied pushing his lower lip out making a cute puppy face. I chuckled listening to him and thought, this collection could only belong to someone who has a very keen interest in reading, like someone who has a very good taste in reading. I don't know why had made up in my mind that I will someday meet her. Aksh's chachi seems to sound an interesting person.

Few days later, when I went on the terrace, my eyes fell on Aksh's terrace. Someone was sitting on the swing there, swinging to-and-fro and reading something, maybe... may be a book. Ooh! So she was Aksh's chachi. She seemed to be in her some what 30's. She was wearing a pink sari, her jet black hair were open and pulled on to one side over the other shoulder, but a few strands were dancing lightly with the wind blowing with each oscillation the swing did. Her side face was visible and she had quite fair skin with a hint of pink cheeks complementing the colour of her sari. Her face seemed a bit serious like she was so engrossed in her own little world of her book.

I don't know from where, but an alien confidence or call it an adrenaline rush passed in my blood that, I went towards the parapet and asked," excuse me, are these books all yours?" I asked. Books can make me do anything. She lifted her head towards me and frowned a bit and looked towards the table and again at me, then said, "yes." Her voice was calm, stable, soft.

"Vo, actually I am shrey's cousin. A few days back I saw a Kafka book here. I searched for it all over Kanpur, but alas I didn't found any. Where did you find it from?" I asked. She smiled and said, "Oh! So you are Shrey's dada bhai. You don't find some easily, you want it? Your can borrow mine. Vese ye vali padhi hai tumne?" She lifted the book from her place and it was Sharad Chandra chottopadhyay's -Devdas. "Amm, yes, I have read this." I said. "Acha, how's Paro's character?" When I gave my opinion about her character, she jumped onto the other, and from one to other our conversation turned like the pages of the novels from one book to other. She spoke and her facial expressions changed, from frowning to laughing, from pouting sadly to scrunching her nose. Her eyes had some spark in them. Her eyes were happy. While I, I just couldn't help but admiring her.

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