Kept beside the window was a filthy and dusted diary
storm had the pages
waving
But with the advent of heavy rain
Wind had to quickly
take a reside in some new place
Till then the waving
pages had taken a pause
But wind had already
marked its second influence
The complete 2nd
paragraph on that page
Was embellish by the
fallen water paint
And finally what
looked to be planned afterwards happened
My pair of eyes flew
to those multicolored lines
Only to find vary
familiar handwriting
Written in bold
red "call 9787336583" dated
"12\12\2009"
If I could remember
it was the last day of school
If I could remember
it was given to me by that someone
Whom I had been
looking into , for atleast 5 years
Guess what IIT
always works as climax in everyone's story
Physics , chemistry
, math books were piled up next , diary at the bottom
Could never
open the diary and never add a word more
Until the storm came
until the rain came until the water paint fell on it
until it became dusted until it became
filthy until now
And I missed to give
a call on that and in
A month I found I
missed the IIT too (though approximately )
And now I wonder how
did she reach to my diary
When I had only asked for filling the slam book
And now I realize
what I had missed what could already have been mine
years old dream suddenly blommed from grave
only to realize grave is still a better place
and left me with a fanitest echo of extremist optimism
"Thank god water paint didnt fell on the next few lines
"Thank god I didn’t go throw the next few lines "
What If it had ".............….. you"