writeforself

No lights no camera and no action, still we all are acting on this big stage of life, the world’s stage and the drama titled-life. No director and no script, yet we all are perfect in our roles. The perfect emotion we show at perfect timings. Everyone is a natural actor in this mega stage and has their own part to play. All have just right timing of entering and leaving the stage.

i watched you for the last time there you stood so happy and you shined i didn't say a word nor a goodbye kiss and now i know that's what i will miss i know i gave you a fickle heart all the bitterness u kept wondering and i silently left but i do remember i do remember every single word you said to me baby though i do, can't come back to you every moment i thought of you nothing can erase the memories i have of you i know i am a wanderer without you more i tend to forget, i remember you i know i gave you a fickle heart all the bitterness u kept wondering and i silently left but i do remember i do remember every single word you said to me baby though i do, can't come back to you there was enough space for us to breathe but i had my own reasons to leave i can never bring back your missing piece nor can come back to your reach oh....... i do remember i do remember every single word you said to me baby though i do, can't come back to y...

“So then you are never going to learn to ride”, Anmol asks Suprita as he starts his bike. Sitting behind him in his bike Suprita counters “Why should I?” “What do you mean by – Why should I? It is always better to learn new things.” “Yea, I know. But I don’t want to. If I get my own scooter, who will sit behind your bike?” Suprita chuckles. “Oh! Then I’m your driver huh? Every time?” Anmol smiles. “Yes, you are my only and best driver”, Suprita tightly embraces him from behind. “Ok ok, anything for you my love”, as he speeds up. But Anmol wasn’t there everytime and Suprita had to take the public transport for her everyday use. “How was your day sweetie?” Mom asks Suprita as she returns from her work. “Don’t ask Maa, the way to and from office really makes me half dead and sick. The heavy traffic, packed micro buses, the smoke from vehicles, the dusty roads, uffff. I bet no one will argue if Kathmandu is renamed Dustmandu”, she laughs out and continues, “also you see Maa thes...