Sometimes , life feels like a movie. Not sometimes, for me life feels like a movie all the time. Often wondering what will this moment lead too and often hoping to turn back the time. But as they say life doesn't stop and neither you can go back and change time. However, one thing that we all can do is re write the chapters that don't fit in.
Call it over optimism or faith, I have always believed that God gives you chance to re write those parts that you didn't like. Add in what you think should have been, delete what no longer serves you. But , the real question is how many of us have guts to do so? That strength to go back and revisit those memories , to self reflect , to ponder and then to once again re write.
" Sam" shouted my husband of 3 years from the other room. Writing used to be my passion , I would write for countless hours and let my mind wander . I still write for countless hours but now its more of an escape . I engross myself in writing a story , deleting and adding words while simultaneously thinking about the one I am living right now.
"Sam" called my husband again, 3 years into this marriage and I was ready to commit a murder. "Coming" I rushed towards him . " yeah, I was just writing" I said while walking towards him.
"At what time do you want me to pick you up tonight?" Sidhant had an office party and we were specially invited , a customize invitation card was sent requesting the presence of Mr and Mrs Khanna.
Poor people didn't know that we were Mr and Mrs Khanna just on paper . A mutually beneficial agreement signed and sealed in front of our families three years back with only one condition mentioned and the only one that I had ended up breaking "To not fall in love with my husband".
" Yeah, I will be ready by 8 pm" I told him, while handing him his laptop, mobile and wallet. Three things that he always keeps in the same place yet never picks them up the next morning by himself.
" Did you have your medicine?" Sidhant questioned . " I did" I answered back and then he left. While I paused and looked at his retreating back , looking for what I don't know. Maybe a small sign of love behind this concern, just a hope that maybe one day my husband wont leave house without giving me a forehead kiss.
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Epistula Amoris
RomanceIt is often said that French is the Language of Love, but before there was even a French Language- It was _______. Hence the title, also if you manage to fill in the blank and decode it then I hope you continue reading it. ...
