Strokes Of Pen

Seema opened the door and looked around her. Nothing had changed a bit. It was yet another night when Prashant was in office and she knew, he would not return. With a sigh, she went over to her refrigerator to see if something was available to cook. Not finding anything, she taught, she would order her dinner.  She took her phone and dialed the number to her nearest Pizzeria. “Hello Pizzeria. How may I help you?” “Hi, this is Seema here.” “O, Seema ma’am, how are you?” “I am good. How are you?” “I am great. Would you like the usual ma'am?” “Yeah. The  usual  one. Thank You.” “Noted. Your Double Cheese Mushroom Special Pizza will be delivered within half an hour. Thanks for calling in.” “Yepp. Thank you,” She said rather uninterested and hung up the phone.

[Those meant to stay in life, stay, not being visible all the times, not being approachable at times; but they are always there. Like a shadow, they follow you, without making their presence felt. They are like the breadth, one always take, but without acknowledging it. Those, who are never meant to be part of life, will always break away, no matter how hard you try to hold them.] An accident changed her course of life. She had waited all long for this miracle. Call it a destiny or call it coincidence that accident was meant to happen. Her life had major vicissitudes, had fluctuated, had given her reasons to hate life completely, but she carried on to an unknown destination. What was she looking for, no one knew. She went to the roads unknown, paths unpaved; only to face dejection. Where was her life leading her, she had no clue. She just went with the winds, to deepest and darkest tunnels and dungeons of life in search of a light. To search for something that could give meanin...