Vikas Singh

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A Geek’s Dream: Chapter_4 ;)

“————–Chapter 4: Cricket Blood Cell: Present In Every Indian ————-“

A Note :- Every character written in the story are purely fictitious. It has no resemblance or connection with any living or dead person.



January 6, 2013.
Arch-rival India VS Pakistan Cricket Series. At that moment, India had already lost the 3-match series to Pakistan by 2-0. It was a Sunday. The game was being played at Feroz Shah Kotla, Delhi. India was all-out for 167 in meager 43.4 overs playing first and set a target of 168 for Pakistan.


My phone beeped. It was Naman.
He texted me and wanted me to meet him at his home. He told me to pick Sneha on the way to his home. As I had to pick her up, so I, myself drove to her home, instead of my driver, Khushal. She lives in a building near Bhikaji Gama palace.

I picked up Sneha at around 5:00 p.m. & we drove straight to Naman’s residence.

I parked my car near the entry gate.

We saw Naina was already present there.

Naina told us that Naman was trying his hands in some serious cooking! with an apron, and his Magic-Apparatus-Chef-Hat.

“Okay. So, that’s the event. Our Boss is trying his hands in cooking”, I said as we both were awed.

So, we were all at Naman’s home. Me, Naina and Sneha were about to start watching final match of that series on TV. Naman was not into it much.

As we entered, one maid offered us juice.

“What’s say Naina, does India stands any chance to win this game”,I asked Naina as India played way too below avg on that day.

“In your dreams”, Sneha said.

“Hey ! come on. Don’t say that. Game hasn’t been played yet completely”, my Cricket blood cells were clearly visible as I replied back.

I was kind of running only on CBC at that moment.At such crucial moments my RBC n WBC turns into CBC. Nothing else was needed!

“Well, you can say that! but, I still think that India is going to lose”. Sneha passed a statement imprudently, after taking the absolute taste of juice on her taste buds and confirming that it was of pineapple.

I was displeased.

“You never know! It’s Cricket. & a game of uncertainty” I let it out calmly, though I felt offensive. Anyone would’ve felt the same. And it stands out as a valid feeling, if you are an Indian.

“No, come on Ayan ! How come India is going to win it. We need to defend 167.”

“See, that’s what I’m saying. We need to have some hope. The word defend is positive.” I winked at her.

“Kumar to Younis Khan, OUT, the middle stump has been flattened! Not a big inswinger, but enough on that to take the inside edge as Younis comes forward to play a loose drive towards cover. And just like that, Pakistan are two down”

End of over 7 (wicket maiden) Pakistan 14/2

“Yes!” I yelled in beatitude. ” that’s what I’m talking about. Come on Bhuvnesh!” I made faces saying that to her.

“See, these boys are the future of Indian Cricket. Fit ! Agile! Passionate! You look upon them and can tell that they are here to leave a mark on this very ground.” I said this as if I was a YODA of Star Wars movie.

Sneha went to the pool side to relax. I didn’t mind getting excited about the game.
“Here you go, guys” Naman came out of the Kitchen after 1 hr of rigorous efforts confined within a plate.

It was kind of chocolate coated stuff.

“What is this?” I asked suspiciously.

“These are Brownie ice cream sandwiches, buddy” he said as he was putting down the desserts on the table meticulously. “Naina helped me in picking the recipe.” he added.

“& I guess, u made it to the perfection bro”, I said as it was looking delicious.


Naina also joined Sneha at the pool side.

“So, when you’re going to marry Naina ?” I intrigued him while helping him setting table for his hand made ICS (not Android one 😉 )

“I guess next year would be fine. I want to make it perfect as I’m about to take next step of this relation. So, No hurries !” He said it wiping his fingers from his apron, with a smile of satisfaction.

“Perfect!”, he said and left for the kitchen to pick some remaining grocery.


Although Naman was busy in placing the butter knife and spoon at the dining table for four of us, he came up with an impromptu query.

“By the way, what you’re up to with Sneha? I can see something is cooking.” he said while placing the napkins on the table.

“Dude, all I can see perfectly cooked here right now is your ICS” I try to save myself from canon of his questions.

“Shall I call upon the ladies to dine over?”, I asked him to shift the focus as his 1 hr effort were on the line.

Few go unscathed from his questionnaire.

“All right ladies, come back” I waived at them through the glass by rotating the like button of FB by 90 degree.


Girls entered the room.

Naman pull-out the chair for Naina.

“Come on. Sit! Let’s dine.”Naina invited us all. She must be feeling hungry or might be very excited to test the cooking-ability of his fiancee.

As we all three had already taken the seat, Naman was last to join us.

Meanwhile Nasir Jamshed and Misbah-ul-Haq were struggling to score some runs on the board for their side.

And a sweet sound came out of sound bar.

“How’s that?”,all the players shouted in chorus & floated into the air for some time & given out lbw too by Umpire. Third wicket fell as Nair Jamshed.

“Ashwin to Nasir Jamshed, OUT, picks up the wrong shot. It was a flighted delivery on the off and middle, Jamshed chooses to play a premeditated sweep and is struck on the front pad. Ashwin lets out a cry of excitement immediately and the decision is given. That is a huge wicket considering how Jamshed has played this series”


Suddenly Sneha got a message on her cell phone. She looked for a moment or so. I guess it was some kind of snooze.

Meanwhile, the conditions were turning up against Pakistan on the ground. Score was 113/3 till the burp of the phone & suddenly, another magical sound just came out of the TV.

We saw another fall of wicket of Misbah-ul-Haq. He’s one fine cricketer that Pakistan have in their team. But then, he was not more than one lost ray of hope for his team.

“Ashwin to Misbah-ul-Haq, OUT, and that leg slip finally comes into the picture. Ashwin has been bowling from round the wicket all day. This one pitches on the leg stump and Misbah glides it straight into the hands of Rahane at that position. Some joy for the India team finally”

Pakistan needed only 55 runs to win that game. I was on my nerve, literally. Though India stands no chance of winning that series, but I still want them to step out of that ground with honour.

As Misbah was walking towards the stands, Naina said, ”have you ever noticed guys, that Misbah has some sort of connection of getting out in such situations against India.”

India’s intermittent performance was increasing the interest in the game. We end up finishing ICS, a palatable cuisine. We all appreciated Naman for his gallant effort for making such sweet dish that we had.

In between, girls did the plates & we all four were back again in front of the TV. The game was heating up and turning into another classic match between India and Pakistan!

Then, In 10-15 minutes span of time, Pakistan lost another two important wickets of Shoaib Malik and Umar Akmal. Till then, the game had been squeezed down to the final death overs.
Pakistan needed only 43 runs from 60 balls with 4 wickets in hand.

Another 30 minutes past. Pakistan needed only 24 runs from 24 balls with 4 wickets still in hand.

Naina was kind of superstitious in such situation. She love Cricket too. Yes ! she does !

Naman held her hand and said,” Dear it’s just a game, why are you sweating so much?”

Me and Naina both said at once, “ Shut up, Naman ! “. She said it facing Naman and I was looking at the TV.

That was crazy. Naman smiled.

I started juggling with three artificial oranges.

Jadeja bowled final delivery of his 10th over. By God, Jadeja was beauty that day. He did exactly what was needed. & Shami Ahmed, the debutant, gave out of his skin performance by bowl.

Jadeja & Shami Ahmed’s Bowling stats were :
RA Jadeja 10-2-19-1
Shami Ahmed 8-3-23-0

“Hey Sneha, what do u say?”, Naina asked her with tension in her voice & same expression was on her face. She was continuously tipping her right feet over floor.

“Now, I think , that India is going to win”, glad she said so. Otherwise, I would have killed her with those three fake oranges.

After another two overs from Shami and Ishan, their bowling stats were :
I Sharma 9-0-24-2
Shami Ahmed 9-4-23-1

and Pakistan were :

End of over 48 (wicket maiden) Pakistan 145/9 (23 runs required from 12 balls, RR: 3.02, RRR: 11.50)

I stopped juggling. Enough of juggling ! Tight situation aroused on the field then.

Till then, Naina gained little confidence that then India was not going to lose. & parallelly then, Pakistan begun to feel like a sheep in the jaw of tiger. And slowly, the tiger is using all his power to break his neck.
“What’s say Sneha, U wanna Bet, India is going to win”, I throw this question at her.

“Obviously India is going to win”,She said. Wow, she’s turning in India’s favor exactly like the Indian pulled this match off from Pakistan.

They were on the verge to win the fourth lowest win of all time for India.


49th over. Ishan is bowling to Hafeez.

Hafeez scored 12 runs out of first 5 balls of Ishant’s over.

One-by-one all feelings were being shattered by Hafeez.

& suddenly!

“Sharma to Mohammad Hafeez, OUT, caught at midwicket! Hafeez has hit this length ball straight to Yuvraj at midwicket. It wasn’t a free-hit as the last ball was no-ball for height. But Pakistan have imploded big time here. Yuvraj runs around the outfield, slides on the field, he gets surrounded by his teammates.”

Mohammad Hafeez c Yuvraj Singh b Sharma 21 (62m 31b 2×4 0x6) SR: 67.74

& Ishant did it !Hafeez was gone! India won the match.

Pakistan Piled up for 157/10.

“Now, that’s what I call a game.”, I yelled facing upwards. We all four hugged each other.

Commentator Raghuram said:”This is more of what we all want to see from Team India. I am not talking about the Win here, but the FIGHT taken to the opponents.Hope this continues for the days to come.. Good for India and Cricket…”

We all said Good night to each other. That day was tiring, mentally. and it was Monday, the following day! So everyone needs to be present at the office on the next day. & our Boss,Mr. T.A.P. , hate the late comers!


I stopped my car in the basement of Sneha’s building. I went with her to make sure her safety.

She pushed digit ‘7’ in the elevator, & it starts whirring.

“Since how long do you live here?”, I asked, cutting the silence.

“Around 15 years. My Dad got transferred here in Delhi in last 10 years of his service, So we never went anywhere else.”, She replied. She, too, was tapping her toe on the floor, like Naina. She seems to be in a hurry.

Elevator stopped.

“Thanks”, she said. she was still tipping her toe on to the floor.

“It’s fine”, I replied.” please go.” I said, noticing her.

We shook hands and exchanged a smile.”Meet you in office tomorrow, then”, I said.

“yeah. sure!”.

Then she walked towards her apartment. & me back to the basement.

On my way to home, I started listening to radio. Every Channel that I tuned in that day, was busy in praising the performance of both the teams. Pakistan was getting applauded for their convincing series-win. & India, was able to save their pride, at last.



Vikas “Smrit” Singh.




A Geek’s Dream: Chapter_3 ;)

A Note :- Every character written in the story are purely fictitious. It has no resemblance or connection with any living or dead person.

HINDI SANSKARAN: sab k sab Characters FARZIII h.


“————–Chapter 3: Music From Rupture Sounds————-“


Life looks like a puzzle, if you try to solve it, or a painting, if you try to sketch its every moment on the canvas of time.

Running through old pics of the school time, I stand & stare on a pic for some time. In the pic, a girl is taking the souvenior from the junior girl on farewell of our batch.

She was my first crush, Stuti Jha.

I don’t know Love or some kind of thing, exist at that time or not, but yeah, I don’t have any account of those 3 days , after I first saw her in 8th standard?

She was a new admission. It was her first day in the school.She was seeking permission to enter in class, of our English-cum-class teacher, Mrs. Komal Verma.

She entered in the class with a bag, which we usually carry in schools, white shirt, with an alternate brown-white pattern school tie, grey-colored long skirt, ending just before her grey socks started appearing, and Liberty girls shoes.

“Nerve-soothing”. I sighed with a pleasent smile on my face.

Keeping aside the Album, I started thinking about Sneha.

She is nothing like my first crush, but girls do enjoy the boy’s highest civilian respect when it comes to playing with our mind.

Naman and I planned to go to HAZE BLUES, Vasant Vihar, in the weekend. It’s a heaven for unwinding with friends & music.

We retired for the Bar at around 7:30 p.m.

“Why we’re heading in oposite direction?”, I inquired, ogling into the dashboard for cigarettes.

“We gotta pick your Lady in Red-Saree and my cute vampire, Naina ”, he giggled.

Naina Shroff, his special-one. They are in a relationship over 4 years as of now. She lives in R.K Puram Sec-13.

“Oh, ho”, “then, today is the doomsday, fella !”, Ronan Keating’s when you say nothing at all was perfect to match to the situation.

We picked both of’em and reach around 9:30 p.m. at the Bar. And I didn’t talk much with Sneha in the Car because I was busy in staring at her lickable-legs. They were comparable with Sharapova. 😉


“ Planter’s Punch ”, Naina whishpered in Naman’s ear.

Even if anyone bellow in agony, it would be whispering in there. Sound System rocks.

“Planter’s Punch for four”, he ordered to the bartender by confirming it with Sneha.

“How did you like the ambience of the office?”, I initiated the conversation, as Naman and her would-be better half were off to the dance-floor.

“It’s nice”, Sipping-up the mystry liquid.

No one would go against their money making platform. Inside politics are yet to be unfold, which is indistingiushable part of everywhere now.

“Ok, I guess.”, she added, lowering her glass a bit from her lips.

“and how did u like the Boss?”.

“He’s cool guy.”, “doesn’t like lazy people much, I think”.

“yes, Indeed”, I gulped down the punch.

Thinking about such cozy environment I was in, shaking-legs were the only option.

“you mind, If i ask you to dance with me”, Ingratiating her I asked.

“Uhmm… No, why would I ?”, she hesitated once, but were on the dance floor with me.

We danced a while, & then went to the bartender for the same punch.

My cuddle hormone starts secreting. Oxytocin, Testosterone… whatever !

“Argh…! the song is too loud.” Applying breakes to my mind I jumped into the conversation.

“uh..hum”, she nodded.

“Let’s get out for some calm, confined space.”, I try to tell her, by hand movements.

School time enjoyment taught you all these “dumb charades” techniques.

Though we came here for the fun, but now, my gravity of fun is stalling around her.

We sit on the staircase outside the Bar & start talking.

We talked around half an hour on general topics and office environment. It’s already 11:45 p.m. by the clock.

She was quite gelled up with Ayesha, my secretary.

Naman and her Señorita came out of the club laughing. She was cuddling his nose.

“So guys, formal intro over ?”, He enjoyed the scene too.

“Yes boss.”.“ We are good to go”, I can sense typical Naman’s verbal next move, so I told him to burn the ignition of the ride.

He went away to parking.

“How are you holding on this guy, this much long?”, shrugging my shoulder, I asked Naina.

“Even I don’t know.”, with a wink she replied. We share some laugh over it.

“& here he’s.”, Sneha said.

On the way to home, thoughts were busting and cracking in my head. Though I met her first time and talked with her, she seems to be another simple, yet functional, girl.

& I want to hold any further decision on to myself. “ You reserve the right to silent. Anything that you speak or do, can be used against yourself.”, these lines are heard most, in any Firangi picture.

Next day was Monday. Again the quest for office.

Life gives us the reason to enjoy every moment of it, yet sometime, We curse it !

“Some moments I want to relive, Some aren’t.” life stalls in these two X and Y dimension of mind.

Vikas “Smrit” Singh.



A Geek’s Dream: Chapter_2 ;)

A Note :- Every character written in the story are purely fictitious. It has no resemblance or connection with any living or dead person.


“————–Chapter 2 : JOB: Just Obey (the) Boss—————“


You must had noticed that watch’s both hand move way too fast, if you had to rush somewhere, on-time!

In weekdays, it was always my office. “Reaching office on time” should be declared as an adventure sport as bungee jumping.

Adding to the exquisite flavor of the busy morning, Delhi’s traffic is always there to welcome you.It loves you so much that it doesn’t let you move more than 15-20 km/h speed. and the rate of getting cheesed-off by this, is directly proportional to the time you have to wait, to feel your engine roaring upon acceleration.

Unnecessarily honking irritates. Its never the same in foreign countries. Sensible people never use their horn, as a musical instrument. Here, it’s indeed a time-pass on the road.

God forbid I wrinkled my attire completely.


Naman was standing right beside his cabin. I saw him as I was entering into the office.He was already there, busy in flipping pages of some file.

We exchanged smile.

He, being a key position holder in the company and swiping-off big sum of money, always looked fabulous. Grey-colored suit from his personal Black Berry collection, Tissot T-Heritage on the wrist was soothing my eyes and his body too.

Aloha Ayan!“, he showed his affection, without moving-away the eyes from file.

“Good morning bro”,
“and Since when you started talking Hawaiian? “, ah! I love Google.

“Nothing, just heard it on the go.”, kneeled down before spontaneity.

He was looking afresh, after he completes his responsibility as a brother.

“Dude, I need to rush. I’ve to bell the cat”, I hi-five him. He winked.

Ah! Felt a sigh of relief, as I entered into the office 10 min before.

Ayesha joined me, as I walked to my cabin.

Now, there are some people, who like the work and their job pretty seriously, some doesn’t. Ayesha, my secretary, is the former one. She was no less than my genie in such hectic schedule.

She is chirpy yet laborious girl. She makes the environment light by her presence. Thanks to the Male-to-Female ratio policy of the company, which they have to maintain, we have sensible yet visibly-well-groomed staff.

Though officials haven’t put any restriction on the monotonous office-dress, she always chooses punjabi salwar-kamiz as her preferred attire. As she is a punjaban, it matches her vakhra persona.

“When is the meeting?”, I asked anxiously.

“Sir,It’s about to start in 15 min”, Ayesha replied.

“Ok”, “get me the file of the device, that has the problem “. The testing team found two bugs of integer overflow and SIGFPE. It may lead to Integer based attacks and unacceptable behavior in the running time simulation.

“here you go, Sir!”, She said, and handed over the file.


“Fellas! we’re not on the schedule”, “and I want a full descriptive report of what we’re up to?”, my oval shaped boss,T.A.P. Sriram, said, wiping off his sweaty forehead.

‘Are these the symptoms of heart-attack?”, a thought crashed into my mind at lightening speed. Jesus ! he was sweating in an AC room.

We all five people present in the room had sensed the level of concern in his voice and were tensed too.

Rahul Ranjan was the head of the User Interface Development of the product, the fifth guy.

My Boss, being a South Indian, was very calm by nature. But, when it comes to work, he was a serious mate.

“Well! we rectified the cause of problem “,” It’ll get Troubleshot ASAP”, I tried to make him calm.

As the meeting was over, I saw Sneha Awasthi, first time in the office, second time in the last three days.

Sometime, the only thing that turn on a guy in a woman, is the way, she carries herself.

She was looking extremely professional. Wearing formal , holding a file in her left hand, that was resting over her left waist. Black frame spectacles was enhancing her girly look. Her razor sharp eyes paid full attention to our boss. I would say, she was amphoteric.

“New recruit! “, every new recruited person works with full attention, in starting only.

The meeting was about timely solution of such problems and moreover the deadline discussion about the launch of a new product.


Naman knocked on the glass-door, showing me the time by tipping his finger on his watch and was saying,”It’s over!”, by sign language, like a deaf and dumb, standing outside the door.

I wrapped-up the cluttered files and headed towards the parking.
It’s time to go back home.


“Come, let me drive you home. I want to talk with you.”, He offered the drive.

“Cool !”, I said as I hopped-in his Honda Civic.

“tum aa gaye ho, nur aa gaya hai…”. After the tiring day, listening to the deadly duo of nightingale, a sobriquet, Lata Mangeshkar and the father of yodeling, Kishore Kumar, was much more than just sheer pleasure.

“Here you go again.Come-on Dude! Do you always listen to these sadly-romantic songs ?”.

Though I had no offence with Old songs but, it was him, who try to imitate yodeling of The
Kishore Da to tease me to the fullest by his chorus.
And I feel, he enjoys this sadistic pleasure.

“I love puraane gaane.”, He said it in the musical rhythm by stretching the sound.

“Old is Gold, my friend”, he preached!

I didn’t listen to him, as I was busy in my important work, ! It always aced in priorities.

If you don’t get time to update your Facebook status once in a day, then you reserve the right to say,”TODAY, I WORKED!”

As I was changing my status
from: “O’sum Weekend 🙂 :)”
to:”Bheja fry-3 Promotion in a car : my friend has awful singing capabilities 😦 😦 ”
he said something unexpected.

papi! how the hell you don’t have any idea about Sneha ?”, “she is in the office from past two weeks”, he asked.

“Dude, I don’t own a satellite and I ain’t no CIA agent.”, My love for the Hollywood movies inside me rippled as I fired back.

“ooh! Do you want one?”,”It’s under the backseat”, he chuckled. He was always this much unpredictable.

“Whoa! The king of Good times”, It’s one among the several A-listed things that boys love. Beer!

“hope, now you own one and it’s in your hand!”, he started whistling to the tune.

“definitely!”, I nodded. “I can give it to you too, on rent if you want !”. exaggerated.

Evening time, awesome music, Beer in hand! whole day’s tiredness flew away.

achcha to hum chalte h….Phir Kab Miloge… Jab Tum Kahoge… I hummed it as the song changed to another classic retro.

Vikas “Smrit” Singh.



A Geek’s Dream: Chapter_1 ;)

A Note :- Every character written in the story are purely fictitious. It has no resemblance or connection with any living or dead person.


“————–Chapter 1 :- @ Ananya’s Marriage—————“

It was not one of the normal Weekend. I had to attend one marriage of my friend-cum-colleague, Naman Rai’s sister, Ananya Rai.

We work in the ConBear Telecom pvt. ltd, Gurgaon, for 3 years as of now and became close friend during this span.

It was confusing to select the suitable attire for the marriage.After Shuffling and struggling with the clothes a lot, I ended up finalizing Black Tuxedo and get suited in.

Venue was Hotel Hilton and that was about half an hour far by car.I left at around 8:00 p.m.

one of my fav pic 😉

Looking through the SUV’s almost Z-Black glasses, I always amazed with the continuity and never dying spirit of this city, Delhi, had. It never stopped by any incident/event. What a spirit it always maintained. Hats-off! I still remember that day, when the News flashed on the Television, that Delhi was stunned by the continuous Bomb-blast in Sarojini Nagar Market, Paharganj and Govindpuri in Oct,2005. Lots of people died. But, just after two days, spirit of Delhi was back, and Life was normal, again. But not for those, who lost their dear ones.

But since then, Delhi had taken a whole new different look. Thanks to the Commonwealth games, who made this city a newly wedded bride and helped a lot of politician to became multi-millionaire. Politician were able to get their share from the “Common-Wealth”. Here my cordial wishes goes to the high rated corruption in India. Now, it’s like the salt of everyone’s food. A school going student may not know the name of the President of India, but might write an essay of 300 words on corruption.

“Sir, We’re here”, My Driver intervened my thoughts. I step-out of the car buttoning again the Blazer.

“Nice Arrangement”. Words dropped in my ear by chattering people, while walking down the Green carpet.


Artistically maintained Hall-room yelling it out loud itself, that it has gone through a lot of careful and experienced thinking of the Event Manager.

“Welcome, Mr. Ayan”, with a very soft voice, Naman, greeted.

“Hello Naman, How are you?”. I replied with a smile. Though it’s a soft natural tendency that comes from within.

“Fine. How did you like the arrangements?”.He asked.

“Marvelous”. I congratulated him for the choice he made by cautiously selecting an Event manager.

The reason for crediting the Event Manager was that, he had set the marriage theme more or less into a painting exhibition. All walls were covered with the sheer perfection of combination of colours. Precisely, it was looking like a rainbow containing more than seven colours.

“and Whats better than this can be, when it comes to one of the exquisite 5-star Hotels in Delhi”. I Spawned his Familiarity with money and the status he gained. His dedication towards his work, made him the senior Manager Level-2 last year.

GOD_ZILA try to eat SUN

He works at the Design and fabrication of the Hardware of the hand-held devices. I work with the memory optimisation of those devices.

“Where is Ananya ?”. I inquired anxiously about the Bride.

“She is in the Room upstairs.You can meet her.”, He looked at his Tissot T-Pocket and softly said,”I think, she is about to come down in 20 minutes”. He explained and left to welcome other guests. I can understand, how cranial scars are stressed at such moments.

Some important office people were on their way to Hotel. Thanks to the Traffic of Delhi, I was standing alone holding the glass of apple juice.

I thought of using my time. I headed towards the room where Ananya was waiting.

Me and Ananya share a decent chemistry. We became good friends too. She told me that her fiance, Arjun Saxena, works with a shipping firm in Singapore as a Senior Product manager.

“Hey Ananya! Looking gorgeous.” these words came out swiftly. She was looking very pretty in the gems-carved Dark Maroon Lehanga. Her make-up was cutting-edge perfect.

“Hi. Thank you. When did you arrive?”, She asked promptly.

“Just few minutes before. And I must say you have selected everything perfectly”, I underlined the inevitable truth.

While I was in conversation with Ananya and her would-be in-law family members, two of her friends came up.

“Hey Ananya!”,”come lets go, everyone is waiting downstairs now”. Her friend helped her to gain balance with the heavily carved Lehanga.

We went back to the main hall. Everyone was busy. Ananya’s slow and gradual steps towards stage, gained attention of the mob. Main stage was fully embraced with the Rajnigandha and White Lily flower . Christ! She was looking like an Angel.

I wonder, how girls turn into such enormous beauty, when it comes to their wedding. Only God knows!

I Luv it ;)

This Weather We got to see every second day. We're Blessed!

In the meanwhile I got Naman’s company. One of the girls, who was walking with the bride, drew my attention.

I started enjoying the hot chocolate with Naman. Her confident walk and steady looks was giving me an impression, that she was an independent girl. She must be in good company and holding some responsibilities too.

” Sneha Awasthi, our new recruit in HR Department”, he assessed the attention I was paying her.”She joined 2 weeks before”, he added and cleared the air.

“and how come, I don’t even know about it”. I queried back immediately.

“someone needs VALGRIND here!”, he pulled my leg and gave me a half crooked smile.

I went near to the same painting she was looking at.

“Wow!”, she said by looking at the enormously beautiful painting of a village woman. Woman in the painting was cooking food for the family on the chulha. Smoke was coming out of that chulha.

“Waaoooww !”, that’s what I whispered to me, after I looked at the epitome of feminism.She was looking Flawless. Her simple ethnic Red-color saaree, her curled hair at the end, her wide Black eyes, her confident steps on the green carpet, heading towards another room, for further glimpse of artistic perfection.

I followed her, to catch another glimpse of the Almighty’s perfection.

Vikas “Smrit” Singh.




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