Jasmine

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  This story is of a girl called Jasmine. I was on a picnic at Pahalgham. I was laying my back on rocks there as I’d just enjoy the fluttering of those small birds and the fluent movements of water. The ripples would add to the beauty of the water and the scorching sunshine would add to the splendid forms of nature. I was bare footed on the rocks just enjoying every moment of it. I was not going to be in a sorry condition over everything aside that would already hit along the way.
Suddenly the birds started fleeing away from the far end. And I just didn’t paid attention as to what happened in and around.
     
    
            I opened my I-pod and started to look for my favorite song. It included ‘Hits’ and some ‘Gazals’ . I was certainly not going to listen to ‘Hip-hop’ and ‘Rap’ as these types of music contain slurs that would had probably nuked the whole outstanding environment and peace anyway.

       For 15-20 minutes I was in a state of desperation, no matter how far I’ll long. Despair is what reminds me of the hope.
      

        For a small time, I was leaning on the bare rocks, and I’d love to make vocal melody.
        Till a group of girls came on, and they laugh on me. One of them was smiling. And I quite lowered by googles and exchanged a grin with her. She was lovable. Very much so. And, as I started to converse with them. I actually couldn’t go by other side, but I just wanted to go by her side.
       
          I would hit to lovely Rumi and her Emily Dickson. Her was eating a dinner with her friends when I asked for her “e-mail”. So everyone was a bit shocked and sneering and she got blushed. Her friend wanted a paper, she too, probably, and me? —I terribly. And she finally wrote it on her handkerchief.
                  

       Restlessness. So much. Till I reached to my home. As I texted, an instant reply. As we were both already in love for years before our birth in star dust. I even don’t know when would day start and when night would end. Endless nights and days in headlights.
Mass of love had  developed. It was never stopping to grow.

           After a year or two. Something stuck between us, so hard that she kept in her veil.

Maybe it was never meant to me or, I was never deserving her love.
But one thing is there, whatever there was is still right here.

Prose:-
     Her roses are still in my
      notebooks lying
         withered
     Beloved Rumi says
“You should break down
       your heart until
           it opens”
That’s what you did, ’cause
A faint heart have never won
          a fair lady.
But I accept to the sky to engulf
       me to the wherever
It would, give on, but never look
           back on
What’s torn is what joins me to
           me
I’m in your dry wall, look me
    in my eye ball
But don’t get too far,
And don’t get too close
‘Cause there are demons in
    my eyes, there are demons
        in my eyes.

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