With the touch of my fingers, the soaked crumpled paper torn into a mess.
My heart felt heavy , when i recalled the way Vinura wrote it down.
He wrote it down on the last page of his note book, carefully , very carefully tore it away , neatly fold it before handing it over to me .
It was a Saturday morning I lost his number .
The whole weekend I was being sad about losing the phone number and continued to blame myself.
such a careless forgetful bastard.. I called myself.
Should I let it go or find the phone number again. ?
The only way to find it again, is to ask from Devinda.
Is it ok to ask him??
The way cold breeze from lakeside ruffled his hair, the way orange hues of evening sun lighted up his face,
his smile growing from a small smirk into a happy grin....
At nights, I was effortlessly imagining that scene..
And there was obvious chemical reaction of my brain...
The feeling of ants crawling up my throat.
The stammering, blabbering and the inevitable thought block..
I felt it's different.
The safe, comfortable feeling when I was with Menul was not there.
This is an entirely different sensation.
But I still felt that Menul is my safe heaven..
So, about the phone number, should I let it go?? or ask from Uncle Dev?
We were not close friends to begin with anyway.
But Uncle Dev's words stirred up my curiosity.
"That was the least I could do for him, after all that happened"
Why, what happened? Why did Dev sounded like he owes Vinura?
I'd better call and see.
By sunday night , I made up mind to ask for Vinura's phone number from Devinda.
........
But Monday morning in school, something happened. A distraction from everything else in the world.
A tornado came rushing , breaking me down to a puddle of tears..
