Are you looking for beauty or finding faults?

Love is a very simple thing, and we tend to complicate the simplest of things. It’s unnecessary to go in the details of everything, to discover its chemical basis, its origin… the first story. I don’t feel the need to do any such thing. Even though love can be quite vast in its meaning, it’s really not that difficult. We make it difficult though, categorizing it and sizing it up. Why? What’s the point of falling in love with a single person when you can fall in love with so many things, over and over again?

We’ve all heard the about the difference of loving and being in love. Why? Why can’t we fall in love with everything? Why can’t we sincerely like all the things that we want to? We can, but we don’t. We don’t because there is this general hype about falling in love with one beautiful person.

I do not believe it. I fall in love with so many things, people, deeds etcetera. Not love them, but fall in love with them. I fall in love with words; random words scrawled on walls, on paper, on blogs, on social sites, by people I don’t know and I might not ever know and I fall in love with them.

I fall in love with poetry, not necessarily famous poets, like Whitman, Plath, Yeats… no, everybody loves them. I fall in love with poetic verses that bloom out of nowhere in the minds of random people all across the globe. They jot them down and forget, but so many people fall in love with them.

I fall in love with deeds; a tiny gesture, a smile. A stranger smiling at a stranger, a scene I only witness, a scene I am not even a part of and I fall in love with it.

I fall in love when I see two people falling in love. I fall in love with their love. I look at them, once practically strangers and know so close and dear to one another. How can I not fall in love?

I fall in love with the nature; clouds, a sunrise, a glimpse of the dark sky where only a single star gleams, an eclipse, the expanse of water stretching out till the ends whilst I float in the middle of it, the promise of land beyond. I fall in love with them even though I know that they won’t come again as themselves. The next sunrise would be different, the sea will be taken by a tide, and the clouds will change form. Everything will become a new something to fall in love with, only to change again.

I fall in love with art. All sorts; decorating the corners of a notebook, painted on walls, an incoherent mix of color in an adolescent’s sketch-pad. I fall in love with laughter, echoing from the house next door, the table beyond ours; people reveling in their own personal and private jokes with laughter echoing out as one.

I fall in love with so much more, and each time I do, I fall slightly in love with the people associated with it. And you do, too. You are falling in love, too, not just once but over and over again, with people you don’t know, things you don’t understand, stories you haven’t read… you are falling without categorizing, you are falling in love genuinely without thinking about the consequences.

The world, you see, is a beautiful place. And it’s filled with so much love that if we consider it, we can take over the hate. Fall in love with it.

-Momina.

As The World Went On Without Them...

A hundred followers. Thank you, all! I am grateful to you all for reading and appreciating! 

For my sisters. 

There is something increasingly tranquil about sitting inconspicuously in a corner, from where you can view everyone, but draw little attention to yourself. Notice people, approaching or going their own ways, watching people, noting their ways. And just like that they sat there, two, who couldn't be more different, peacefully looking out to the world as it went on around them, without them.

There is something extremely joyous about walking bare foot on the wet grass, as you feel the green tingling your feet, under the night sky as you roam aimlessly, wandering off before turning to face the world again. You are so close to nature, so earthy, so content. And just like that, they walked those slightly damp lawns. Three pair of feet, wandering away but together, three pairs of shoes hooked on each one’s hand, as the world went on behind them, without them.

There is something awfully hilarious about being cross with the world, how one shuts himself, secluding, feigning ignorance to all those around. But actually they stare, inwardly they laugh, and how beautiful if you can share! And just like that, they lay there, four faces so dissimilar, lost in a world of their own that they share. They curse the darkness that has come with the hurricane yet connected them all in a way they haven’t been in a while. And so they share, four perspectives so unlike as they make a vision identical as the world goes on, outside, without them.

There is something exceptionally beautiful about sitting together sharing a personal joke and taunting one another. It’s about being so close, knowing the other well enough, that jokes don’t hurt and funnier they seem with every minute, no matter how pointless they are. And just like that they laughed, a chorus of five distinct giggles, making the most of these shared moments, the late night forgotten. They chuckle and chortle as the world sleeps about them, without them.

-Momina.

More Love

Hello everyone,

So these have been due for quite a while now, my apologies! Thank you so so much Aqsa and Mani Khaan for tagging me for the 'Liebster award'.

Thank you, Mani. :Dxx

Thank you, Aqsa :Dxx

My utter gratitude to both of me, honestly, your appreciation means a lot and I can't thank you enough for reading and liking my pieces to this extent.

So, I this time, however, I am going to skip the 'facts'.

These are the answers to your questions, Aqsa:

1. Are you an introverted or extroverted person?

I am an introvert who is friends with the most extrovert people.

2.One thing in life that means the most to you?

Definitely my sister.

3. You are woken from deep sleep at 3 in the morning! What will be the first words out of your mouth?

A very incoherent 'What?'.

4. Who do you trust and listen to more, the heart or the brain?

Actually, it's all the brain, I think. So I am not sure.

5. Your passion?

My skills, my ability to write.

6. Your zodiac sign? Do you posses the traits defining your zodiac?

Taurus! I guess I do, most of them, anyway.

7. It is said: 'Don't ask what the meaning of life is, you define it!', so what's you definition of life?

The prospect of life is too complex and vast and it keeps changing daily. I think life is about befriending strangers, trying to love the people you hate, holding on to the people you love. It's about discovering the unseen and feeling. It's about inspiring and being inspired.

8. One word that defines you?

"Wallflower", said Urbah.

  9. There is someone saying bad things about you!...Will you prefer confronting that someone or silently walking away?

I prefer silently walking away, but I am extremely lucky to have friends who'll take me along and confront that person. Thank you, you all! :')

10. Are you a realistic person or do fairy tales mean more to you?

I am a realistic person, fairy tales are stories woven out of dreams, I prefer to only take lessons from them.

These are the questions by Mani Khanna:

1.Most embarrassing moment?

I think my most embarrassing moment would be declaring the most embarrassing moment on the blog.

2. Two wishes.

I wish to own a typewriter someday and I wish people could notice the joy in little things.

3. Dream Job?

As stupid as it may sound, I honestly have no dream job, I don't really plan.

4. Name one person that comes in your mind,

Love: My little sister.

Hate: Nothing really except maybe Chemistry.

Best: My family and friends.

Blog: That pops up several images and names.

Adviser: Parents.

5. Describe me in one word.

Forgiving.

6. One person you wanted to meet, dead or alive?

That list is very long.

7. Friendship is?

Friendship is when you love people for who they are, when you can approach them, point out their wrongs, level arguments. When you love them and hate them, and are at peace with them.

8. A girl and a boy can be friends, justify with a reason.

Of course they can, friendship is regardless of gender. Society condemns a lot that isn't wrong, they just need to complicate things, hence, they make their own rules.

9. Best moment till date?

1st January 2008, the day my baby-sister was born.

10. One thing you are afraid of?

Allah.

11. One thing you don't like to share with people?

Anything at all. I am very personal.

Thank you, once again and lots of love.

-Momina.

I am Here.

When all the doors were closed with me stranded in the middle at the verge of a breakdown, yours was the only one which opened. The only one that glowed in the darkness that surrounded me, the only ledge I could hold onto while everything else disappeared. You were the only thing in the midst of it all that was not an illusion. You were always there for me; sometimes like a mother, sometimes like a kid, but you were always there as a sister and a friend when I needed you the most.

You taught me so much, not just now while we struggle against time and change, but always. You were always a teacher without being one. Sure, we were different, the complete opposites at nature but we never let that or the one year of age difference come in between. Or did we?

I don’t know. But I do know that you gave me all the answers, all the reasons, and you proved all those statements that were hanging midair. You taught me to think outside the box, and inside. You showed me how to look at the other side of the story. You explained to me how the doors were not locked, but it was I, who had not tried, because they were all unlocked and they only needed a push. You told me it was okay to think for myself, even if it sometimes disappointed people. And, you enlightened me; about how I should go not just into the details, but deeper and how I should too, sometimes let things go. You taught me so much that I thought I knew, but I didn't.

I don’t know how long we sat in our embrace; talking, thinking, crying or just listening, and all through you were hugging me so tight as you consoled me, so when we broke free it was suddenly so cold, I realized how much you could need me, too. I don’t know why I am posting this here or if you’d even want it here, all I know is that I want to let you know that: I am here for you, always.

I AM HERE.

-Momina.

Love, Life And Everything Nice.

What was originally meant to be posted on 1st January 2013. 

Her cuteness cannot be captured in pictures, nor her actions in mere words. Descriptions never do her justice; always lacking, too incomplete to her real character. Life without her is unimaginable and often I sit and wonder what life was before these five years?

When we didn’t come home anxious to see the same face daily, without a tiny person to hug after it’s every little accomplishment? What was life without her annoying whines and adorable gestures? Without her art on walls around us and rooms devoid of her beautiful laughter; without her to make most of every situation.

I bet life was incomplete, dull, without her to talk of and love, without her to weave endless stories for. What was it like when life lacked her hilariously smart views and her tiny hands to clutch our own? How hollow and lifeless I am without her. 

Here I am, at eighteen years of age, already having known what actual love is. It resides here with me in the form of my five year old sister; this darling little creature without whom life is unwanted, for whom all my prayers are formed. My life is molded around her; she’s my life, love, laughter and everything in between.

-Momina.

Love

Love, what is it, really?

A simple emotion to show that you care and understand, or a complex mode, that envelops you inside itself, making it unmanageable to disentangle?
Love, they say you never plan of falling for it, it just happens. Like meant-to-be’s. Like miracles? 

Love, they say it gives you infinite happiness. Just like taking you over the moon and your frequent visits to cloud nine. Or the feeling when your feet don’t stay on the ground.

I think I know love. I think I understand. Why wouldn't I?

I have seen it happen, I have felt it. I know the gusto of it, I know it’s craze.

It’s blissful. It’s petty.

It’s ecstatic. It’s contagious. 

It’s the serenity of living in a dream. It’s the beauty of being awake in that very dream.

It’s the dream of reality.

Why wouldn't I know love? Why wouldn't I feel it? It’s there around me. It’s not a lover’s kiss for me; it’s my sister’s peck, my friends’ smiles. The laughter and love in all those eyes that are around me. The sparkle and the sheen. I know love and that’s love.

It’s the afterglow that sustains, forever.

-Momina.

Picture source: http://www.facebook.com/HaadPhotography?fref=ts

smoked cigarettes

Staring into the eyes of the little girl in front of her, she was abruptly pushed back into her own childhood where these eyes belonged to her; full of fear and loneliness, craving attention and love. 

She stood at her bedroom door staring down into the hall of the great big mansion. The mansion, even though her home scared her; it was too big and too delicate, the opposite of a cozy home. She looked down on to the open hall her eyes skimming through all the people who looked similar to each other till her eyes landed on the one person she wanted to see. There were a lot of people surrounding her but she was nothing like any of them. There was a striking aura around that particular person that captivated the young child. Her eyes followed the figure careful not to lose it, she knew she'd loose her with just one blink and her eyes were already drowsy from sleep. The swollen bloodshot eyes that dominated the pale little face darted from figure to figure as she lost her mother in the party crowd. It was then that she realized the smoke from all the cigarettes and cigars was getting to thick, irritating her eyes and throat. Turning her tiny self away from the body she coughed and went inside, closing the door shut behind her, she opened her window and sat on it, wiping away her watery eyes and looking up into the dark sky she said a little prayer like every day and then called her dear old nanny.

'Would you call mama to come and kiss me good night?' she asked.

'I am afraid she's busy my dear!' the nanny replied gently.

'But won't you try, please?'

'I shall' she said although knowing that the mother won't come and the poor child would drift to sleep waiting.

--

It's late, very late, and almost time for dawn but she's awake sitting on the big arm chair gazing at her mother as if she was a diamond encrusted statue. Her mother though is unaware of her presence as she lies on the couch with eyes closed, smoking a cigarette. The little child doesn’t go near her mother afraid she'll push her into the table like the other day. She loves her but she wants her mother's love. She needs it. She looks at the carpet scattered with ash and ash-tray filled with cigarette butts. Her fearful eyes follow her mother's figure as it gets up and walks away leaving her behind alone. The poor child shudders at the hate she feels wafting at her!  She brings her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on them, letting her tears paint her cheek wet. 

--

Time has passed now but the scene is more or less identical. The endless promises she made to herself to not become like her mother have proved futile. She is the same as her mother, hateful, selfish and torn.  And the dear little child with exactly her eyes is her daughter, who even now sits before her with glassy pained eyes and rosy cheeks staring at her smoking a cigarette, very much like herself at a very distant time. It's another generation yet much the same. She has been ignoring the innocence of that child's face and she will be the one to make her like herself. As if hit by a revelation, she suddenly drops her half smoked cigarette that burns right through her beautiful sheer silk wrap that is lying on the floor and her white plush rug, normally she would have not let this go, even if her own fault, but right now it goes unnoticed.  The room is dark and dotted with candles, like every day. Light seem to burn her eyes so she lights candles in the whole house. In the dim light from the candles she can see as the tears slip past the six year old child's eyes. Involuntarily she, herself gets up and stands before her daughter, reaching out and grabbing her hand; holding on tight she gently wipes the tears  with her free hand and drags her along, walking the whole house with her. Blowing gently on the candles and saving that which should be saved, not just a candle, but an innocence for generations.

Momina.

So much for loving.

Me: Hadoo janu I love you alot!!!

Hadia: Monoo api you are hilalious! (hilarious)

when it happens...

She got up from the bed and stood in front of her full length mirror, she had been crying for days her tears had dried up now but she wept on anyways. She starred mutely at her reflection; pale as paper, eyes all swollen up and blood red, hair all messed up like clothes. She hadn’t bothered eating either; the pain was too much for that. She wanted to break the mirror but then she recalled what she used to say whenever she heard people doing that, 'what do they get out of breaking all their precious stuff?'

Satisfaction, she got the answer. She wouldn’t break something ever, but she went ahead and did it anyways, breaking the mirror to pieces. And it felt way better than sobbing it all out. So she went to the kitchen and took out the old crockery set she was meaning to give to the charity, smashing it seemed so much more reasonable now. One by one she shattered the plates by throwing them against the floor or the wall. Her arm cut twice but she couldn’t care less, she wailed loudly and helplessly the tears floating in her eyes, blurring her vision. Suddenly the air felt so musky and dirty she took her throbbing outside where she somehow crashed right on the main street.

When she woke up all she saw was white; White walls, white sheets, and white floors. It took her a moment to realize that it was a hospital room.  She felt drowsy and far from reality but as soon as the door opened she felt as if every color in the world had exploded turning that white room into heavens. Like a box of paint had been opened and thrown violently around, only it looked beautiful; every color so distinct and bright.

Laying there all rosy and pale she smiled to herself as she looked into the eyes of a complete stranger who looked like an old friend, for she had fallen in love with him at the very first sight. He looked back at her confused and then came over and sat in the chair lying close to the bed.

'Hi, you…um fell in front of my car so I brought you here. They say you are better now, you are! Aren’t you?' he looked at her gently 'I know! The stupor will wear off; it's because of the meds.'

He seemed to have read her mind. He spoke too much, speaking on and asking her questions she couldn’t answer. She used to be that way. She was such. She spoke a lot, too much and at times it would cause her so much trouble. She had a wild take on life, nothing quite like anyone, always speaking her mind, doing things no one else would. Yet, in front of this completely beautiful stranger she couldn’t say a word; she could but she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to scare him off; she just wanted to hear the voice that brought her tranquility all so unexpectedly. Maybe she had lost her voice. When he got up to leave bidding her a good bye she shook her head quickly and held on to his hand without meaning to.

'Don’t worry! Um… I will call someone over to keep company.' He said then he got on to the phone whispering to someone.

He left her with that girl who at first she had mistook to be his girlfriend but who was actually his sister. With her, she found, she could talk and speak freely but as soon as he came back into the view she surely lost her voice. She reacted late due to all the medicines, but she responded by shaking her head, nodding or smiling with him. She could listen to him forever. She noted that he spoke meaningfully between sentences, he'd be talking of something so distinct and somewhere in the middle he'd compliment her or he'd say some words of great inspiration and meaning and she couldn’t react before he'd be too far off telling her something completely different. He opened up his life for her, telling her stories from his past and events that he hoped would take place in the future. He was careful of what he said and did, for him life was all about keeping his closest possessions safe and acquiring all that was within his potential. If he wanted something he'd surely get it.

He was so much unlike her still so appealing. During all these chats she'd sit locked in the trance of his voice, eyes and smile barely registering anything else.  She knew he had heard her talk to his sister, she once saw him standing by the door while she spoke rapidly like she did until she saw him and then it was the colors bursting all over again and her speechlessness. In all her life she hadn’t been as wordless as he made her. So different.

She was finally out of the hospital and he was dropping her home. They were in the car and the rain had left all the windows fogged up yet it didn’t exasperate him, he drove as calmly as ever, whereas, if it had been her she would have been cursing and complaining. Not now though, she quietly drew on the fogged up window while listening to his voice. He was telling her of some recent dealers he had managed to get into a big agreement.

'… I could see all the profit but my fat boss couldn’t. But I get what I know is mine, just like you, so I got them right back and made an agreement with them. And you'll see the profit that will bring us in less time, the economic values will rise and the demand will too…'

She abruptly sat straight in her seat for a minute then pinching herself she looked at him questioningly. And that’s when he looked right back at her, smiled and said

'You are, aren’t you? Mine to keep. Forever' and all the colors exploded all over again.

Momina.

 

no curtain call.

She came swinging from the strong cord; hair flying, her dress soaring with the action and she bumped into him and they both toppled to the ground, staring into each others' eyes with such deep emotions.

With that the curtains were closed and the crowd was on its feet, applauding.

She makes sure the curtains have been drawn before hurriedly getting up from where she had fallen on top of him. She dusts herself and looking around, because she doesn’t want to look him in the eye.

'Um…nice show…I got to change' she says and rushes to her changing room.

He raises his eye brows but doesn’t say anything as he lifts himself off the floor and looks around. He can hear the praises of the crowd also the sounds of it shuffling out the doors of the theater. The crew has already started clearing the stage. The director doesn’t looks up from where he's already planning out the next play. He doesn’t comes up clapping his hands and shouting 'good show, brilliant!' like he used to.  Sigh, people change to fast. He signals to one of the men and he hastily gets him a coke can. At least the love of acting remains, he thinks to himself peeking behind the curtains at the bare hall. He makes his way to the dressing room.

She's all changed and washed; Wet hair dripping and hand bag ready on her shoulder. She hangs her costume on the rail and turns only to find him coming in sipping coke.

'Great show right? Coke?' he holds a spare can in his other hand which she hadn’t notice. But she knew he wasn’t sharing his own. Maybe.

'Yes! Thanks.'

'I do like the ones themed on love. So deep, right?' he makes it sarcastic.

'Very! Not that it really matters, it's all acting and people are so easily fooled' she says with a nervous laugh.

'They sure are, but it's only so long till they are fooled. Deep down they know the truth, don’t they?' he really means it this time.

'Yeah I guess…'

'Then why not stop the act for those who know the truth. Why lie to their faces? Why not tell them the truth? Make it easy for both'  he is now standing close to her, looking at her intensely while she looks down at her feet.

'Maybe it's not the right time? Maybe not the truth...... I got to go' she passes him and gets out the door but what he says stops her in her tracks.

'But don’t you see it is. The perfect time or the perfect place might never come; maybe this is the ideal time. Say it! You might not get the chance again'

She smiles, she turns 'but I don’t have to say it when you know it'

'I know it' he says and envelopes her in a heartfelt embrace.

This time there is no curtain call, no music and no applauds. It's real, it's love.

Momina.

on the dance floor

They both looked around trying to run away as their mothers urged them to dance. She walked reluctantly as her mum pushed her to the center of the dance floor, while he made faces, head down, shuffling his feet. Cursing. They look around when told to dance then turning amber they both grudgingly fall in to step with each other. They both look awkwardly at the guests that comment on their 'cuteness'.  After five minutes of dancing they withdraw timidly and half an hour later they are found happily playing in dirt, together. Two ten year olds, one dressed as a flower girl in a pretty white dress the other in a little pant suit.

Twelve years later they dance hand in hand at the wedding of her sister and his best friend. They dance together, this time more confidently aware of the eyes' of the guests on them, smiling. They repeat familiar dance steps, this time they don’t curse, they smile and chat freely. Half an hour later they are caught outside on a bench giggling, together. Two adults, one maid-of-honor the other the best man, lost in old recollections.

A year later, they face each other again on the dance floor, eyes filled with joy and faces lit with1 infinite happiness. People gaze at them proudly, blessing them. Only this time they don’t care they are too lost within each other to bother. They don’t speak; they have all the time for that now. Later, hand in hand they cut the cake, one dressed in a white bride's dress the other in a tux fit for any groom. For just an hour ago they have been bonded forever, at the altar, as they were meant to be.

M. 

'love, nobody actually gets what it is!' -Momina.

Amid the Moonlight

They ran from the club hand in hand, her heels clicking alongside the low thud of his loafers. They ran like fools on the empty road in the gloomy night. A few minutes later they were sitting on a brick boundary wall. Two pairs of legs hanging from the five foot tall wall, one figure clad in an Armani suit, the other in a silk dress. She swings her stiletto heels as she sits there humming while he stares in the middle distance glad to have her company but not knowing what to say.

Minutes later they both speak up, together. Then both look away a little red and embarrassed. After a few seconds she speaks, pulling her velvet shawl closer around her shoulders and saying as much as she can in one breath before she shudders at the cold and continues. She tells much more than allowed. She wants to be sincere. Lying is no use it just starts something wrong and it always ends at wrong. She knows; she’s been there and suffered, that’s why she wants this to work out because she knows it’s different. It’s real. It happened.

She quiets down after half an hour, not very sure now. Her eyes are filled with tears that threaten to brim over.

‘Stay strong’, she whispers to herself.

She hears him sigh loudly and a tear spills on her cheek but she wipes it off quickly.

‘It’s over. I was a fool to think it would work’, she wonders to herself again.

 

He sighs and she sighs too, loudly. Sad but then his fingers lace through hers, she lifts her chin to look into his eyes, still hesitant. They are wide and deep blue in the dark night, but she sees a smile. It’s true!

He jumps off the wall and holds out his hand for her to hold. She grins, jumps off the wall holding the hand for support.

They run away hand in hand, her heels clicking with the soft thud of his loafers. They ran like fools on the empty road in the dark night amid the moonlight.

Momina.

because I love you.

Has there ever been a new addition in you life, such that you decide to edit your future plans. some one who doesnt even realize that you are doing this for them. someone whom you love alot, with out bounds. some one so tiny, so awesome, so cute that you just want to cuddle them and keep them right next to you for your whole life no matter what happens.
1st january 2008 changed my life. i didnt even realize it till later how much the presence meant to me. no, it was not some guy i fell in love with and decided to give up my whole future and chase him. no, it was my baby sister. when i first held her i just felt like holding a doll, what she'd become for me? i didnt know. she was not the first sister i ever got i actually have three to cope with apart from her. later as she grew older she became such an influential part of me. even at her two or three years of age we were close like bestfriends. the cute little cuddly thing loves me and I love her.
How i can develop a perfect, understandable bond is even beyond me, I come to no conclusion except the fact that it's love.
And this bond is what got me thinking and made me change many of my plans just so I dont risk this incredible bond I have with my almost-four-year old sister. I totally stumped my plans of going abord because I wouldnt get to see her daily, doing something new. I listed it out. I want to be with her every minute. sometimes i just want to wake her up and ask her how much she loves me. but then I find myself saying
'she is a kid, for goodness sake, she cant answer this'
my friends accuse me of being overly protective and maternal towards her but what can I say? It's just an obsession with loving her. I just pray that she has everything in life that she wishes for and this bond that we have will last forever.
I never did got the love thing, but know it seems to make sense a little. I wish I could just make her understand what she is to me, my dear little almost-four angel, hadia.


M.

Like me the way i am!

He doesn’t want me.
I wore baggy jeans and hoodies for more than half the year, only changing into t-shirts for summers. I barely took of my converse, ever. I busted more than half my pocket money on chocolates. I made noises (like dheeeeeee, dhaaaan, dhush, woooooooooo) while playing games. I played football half the time. You'd never find my hair in anything except a pony tail. I laughed at girls who cried on broken nails or over lost boyfriend. But no matter how much I tried to hide the fact, deep down I was a girl. I had feelings like a girl. I was not the rough and gruff person I pretended to be. Underneath all those baggy clothes I had a heart. And I secretly dreamed about all the romance the rest of the girls talked about openly.
I couldn’t say it loud of course. I would become a laughing stock. Changing my twenty year self into something completely different, but no matter what I was a girl. And I was in love, like a girl. But he'd never love me back; I was not a girl for him. Just a friend. Only friend.

What’s worse was that he had seen me dancing in the kitchen, just like when he caught me playing games while I was so engrossed in making sounds that went with the action going on in the game . Me! Dancing! In the kitchen! Too much for my reputation as the tom boy! Not my fault, I was just making hot chocolate with music plugged into my ears. I didn’t even see him until he mentioned it the next day.
‘You dance pretty well for someone who sticks to sneakers.’ He grinned at me from across the breakfast buffet. And of course I went red as a cherry.
‘What?’ I had no idea what he was talking about.
‘Sorry but I kind of saw you dancing all by yourself, in the kitchen last night.’ He whispered secretly into my ear.
‘Um… dancing is kind of genetic and I got carried away yesterday….’ I muttered going a deeper shade of red and running to a table.
Well so what if he had seen me? No big! If he told anyone they would never believe him. But what if they did? I would be humiliated. Whatever. I plugged in my headphones and ate my cereal tapping my foot to the beat. As I drained the milk from my cereal I looked up only to see him sitting across from me on the long bench. Well anyone could sit there, I thought to myself as I moved to place my bowl with the dirty dishes. I got back to the empty stadium and started my daily routine with aerobics. Later I saw him running laps at the park, impressive. I found myself an empty swing and started swaying. So what was wrong with the situation? I liked him and always wanted him to notice me. Now that he did (I realized as he threw me a smile while sprinting past me) why was I freaking out. I didn’t even have to change. I was never going to change. If someone had to like me, he had to like me the way I am.
Relax, he doesn’t like me. He just mentioned he saw me dancing…shit! So bloody embarrassing. It would all be better if I just avoid him. I didn’t smiled back when he went past me another time, I just gave a grim look. I avoided him all day in the camp activity. And pushed the regret all way back into my mind. When I went into the kitchen for my midnight hot chocolate I made sure I didn’t dance, I texted instead. I didn’t see him in the kitchen. i didn’t even saw him next day at breakfast. Whatever, not like I was looking for him. It was only later that I realized that maybe he was avoiding me too. I bought myself a couple of chocolate bars and occupied a swing. Then I saw him, running laps again as usual. He didn’t smile.
Satisfied that night I danced in the empty half lit kitchen freely, my iPod stuck into my ears, my eyes closed. I didn’t notice anyone until I bumped into them. I opened my eyes rubbing the tip of my nose. I looked up to see him. He smiled, plucked one of the earphones out of my ear and said
‘You shouldn’t dance so well in converse, alone’ and he put the ear phone into his own and took my hands. We danced; without saying a word, we danced to the beat, our eyes upon each other, your hearts welded together.


M.

bitter sweet

'Aaaaaaaaaaaaah',I shrieked to my best friend who is also my cousin, but not loudly since there were a dozen other girls sprawled on mattresses all around us getting their beauty sleep.  Don’t get me wrong we aren’t in some boarding school! In fact nothing as cool as that just a grand family vacation, with all cousins and aunts and uncles… you get the picture?
so anyways whenever we have this grand vacation all the girls get to sleep in one room and all the boys in another, that is IF we sleep at all, which we do after talking till three in the morning and then struggling to bed.

'What????' Mel, short for Melanie, whispered back at me where we lay together talking even after four in the morning.

'I left my cell phone in the guys' room!!! And Jen must be texting, she will kill me. And if she calls and somebody picked up!' I was freaked out seriously. Our guy-cousins were annoying, a lot. And what they'd do if they find my cell phone and read my texts of how me and Jen drool over a certain football player, they won't let go of any chance to embarrass me. I could die just thinking about it. And I am not exaggerating.

'OMG! You have to get it back!' she said looking horrified.

'Yes, I am going, but just don’t sleep' I warned her as I got up quietly. i brushed the crumbs of cookies that we had been eating, off my shirt and trouser.

'I won't' she promised solemnly 'good luck' she said gazing at me intently as I sneaked past all the sleepy kittens and closed the door behind me.

Mel was my best friend, for one we had always been inseparable even though we were in different schools and all. Plus we were the same age and had same problem. We loved each other if it hadn’t been of her being a pretty red head and me being a brunette we would have been twins.

Anyway so there I was standing in infront of the door in which the guys slept, hesitating as if I were on some crazy James Bond (007) mission. Only I was not. So I took a deep breath and entered the door. The guys were sprawled, literally, like animals. Even animal wouldn’t have slept like this. I looked around it was like a maze. There is no way I could make it to the other side before stepping on someone's hand or foot or even face.  I could see my mobile resting on the floor cushions in the corner. it's light was blinking, Jen was obviously texting me wondering where on earth I have left the phone that never leaves my hand, except for my pocket.

With my back against the wall I carefully passed all the obstacles; hands and necks and all. I had fifteen unread. Oh my god, I was dead. I thanked god and started for the door only to see Steven, my first cousin, sleeping with an open mouth in such an epic pose that I couldn’t help laughing. I was laughing so hard that I stumbled on someone's leg and fell on the mattress right in the middle of all the sleeping guys.

I kept my eyes close waiting for them to start shouting and all, how awkward would it be if I got caught. Only I didn’t hear a word. So I slowly opened my eyes only to see Emmet sleeping next to me. Thank goodness he hadn’t woken up. We would have started another fight, noting less. Emmet was Mel's brother. He was a year older than me, and we disagreed on EVERYTHING. That’s why we always fought. I hated him. And whenever we met an argument was predictable, which was extremely often since I was at Mel's place half the time. And Emmet, unfortunately enough, also lived there. but he looked quite innocent while sleeping, i admitted grudgingly to my self and thanking god over and over I started to get up only someone caught my hand and pulled me back. That someone turned out to be Emmet. He stared at me; I could feel it even in the dark.

'What are you doing here?' he asked curiously.

'Why do you care?' I started to leave.

'Hmm…I wonder what everyone will say about you sneaking in to this room. Shouldn’t you be in the girls room, sleeping?' he asked tightening his grip on my wrist.

'Don’t boss me! And you'd better keep your mouth shut because I was only here to get my cell phone' I said waving my cell phone in his face.

'Oh, so it was yours' I could hear a smile in his voice.

'How dare you get into my mobile' I snarled at him, I was getting annoyed plus his grip on my wrist was starting to hurt.

'It's just the way I am. You know, loathsome' he sighed 'anyways, I don’t really like this football star you guys keep talking about'

I pulled at my wrist ' leave me, and it's none of your business, stop poking your nose everywhere'

'You don’t get it do you? It is my business when you keep thinking about someone else' that threw me. Way far, to Iran maybe.

'What?' I asked dumb founded the pain in my wrist forgotten.

'Never mind, go to bed' he sighed disappointedly and turned leaving my wrist. It hurt as the blood started pumping in my fingers again.

Still shocked I went back to the girls' room. Mel's expression was one of great relief when she saw me. I told her what happened and she just smiled and kept smiling. When I asked her what was funny she just squeezed my hand and said,

'Don’t you get it silly? He loves you.'

M.