Posted in fiction

What she was missing

Take care,love.
Miss you much.
Thinking about you.
Love always.
Want to be yours now and forever.
Wish you were with me.
Dreaming about you.
Love you.

That was it. It was beginning to suffocate him. Small notes in the lunch box, under the pillow, in his shirt or trouser pockets, daily dose of SMSs, missed calls, one-line emails. Does she have to say it so much,so many times?

His hands shivered as he lit her pyre. And then he missed how much she missed him. Then he knew.



There is a deep and cosmological connection between my birth, my parent's decision to name me what they did, my profession and my education. This brings me to the conclusion that fate is predetermined and like in Hindu mythology, is written by Brahma when someone is born. Example: My name is unique. I did my grads in Psychology. I then did my masters in HR (offshoot of following all the psychos). I then did the ultimate decision of joining an MNC in ............. beat it, BUSINESS DEVELOPMENT. So, I have the concept 'MAD' in my name, my education, my choice of career and all the milestone decisions of my life. Now, is it predetermined or what ? :-D

4 thoughts on “What she was missing

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