• I carry a book wherever I go.
• I watch my book-shelf many times in a day and count books once a day. It gives me immense pleasure.
• I spend more on books than on dresses. I am always short on books and end up buying more than I planned but never regretted.
• Before I start reading a book, I stare at the cover for long. If the cover has so many elements in it, it will take longer until I memorize every small detail of the cover.
• I hate when someone calls in the middle of the chapter and once I wanted to kill the damn person called just before the last chapter of a suspense novel.
• I find this strange when someone says that they have never read a book. Is this humanly possible to live without books?

She runs in the house with her little legs, giggling. She hides behind the shelf, under the bed and no one could catch her. Her small eyes are curious to meet the world. She put her tiny hands on her mouth to hide the laughter escaped. But couldn’t stop the anklets on her legs announcing every one of her presence on every step she takes.

Her laughter is brighter than the first rays of the sun. The music of her anklets is melodies than the voice of the cuckoo. She is magical. She has magic in her that makes everything looks beautiful. Every soul she touches comes to life and could not help smiling with her.

She’s an angel comes to earth bringing happiness and light in the lives. She comes to earth to spread smiles on the lips.

I gaze at the page a little longer and it stared back blankly. It incites me to write, like talking to me, and saying ‘come on; write something, I look better with words’.

‘I can’t, I am sad and distressed.’ I said.

‘Then write, sad and distressed.’

‘Are you mad?’ now it’s making me angry too.

‘Just write like you always do. Take your pen and put it on me and write the first thing came to your mind.’

I write.

‘I can’t write.

I am sad.

I am distressed.

I am writing this because I am sad.

I am writing this because I am distressed.’

A smile clock in from the corner of my lips. It’s definitely looking prettier. It’s no more a blank page and no more blank stares. I painted it with my words. What are looking at me now is me.

Just Write.

She watched the Sun adieu the day sitting on a shore. Her loose hairs are playing with the wind. Every evening she came to watch the sunset and try to grab a piece of him.

Who?

She never gave him a name. It’s ‘WE’ when they were together and now it’s ‘HIM’. She last saw him walking away from her while ocean wind disheveling her hairs.

“Wait for me. We will meet again.” He said before parting.

She is waiting for the day till today looking at the vast and deep ocean. She felt a hand on her left shoulder. She turned in a jiffy and there he is.

“Excuse me are you ok. You are crying. Is everything alright?” A passerby asked seeing her tears rolling down the cheeks silently.

“Yes, I am fine.”