Ordinary Day

(I just penned down a normal day of my busy life, while sitting in the classroom)

I was running late for the school that day. The butter which was sliced and applied has melted and the pores of the white bread has absorbed every bit of saltiness of the fresh, yellow butter due to the increased heat waves these days.

Today, I kept my hair open because I loved the way they are naturally curled, and I didn't want myself to ruin them. They were looking pretty, so I didn't felt the need to pick my hairbrush and run it through them. I picked up the bag and left my home in the hope that today it will be a bit happening than before. The hinges of the old, red vintage door used to sound a bit sad, maybe that's only something what I felt!

I was on the second last story of 'falling in love again' by Ruskin Bond. It has the collection of all the romantic stories I love, as a romantic writer. Sometimes, I doubt my heart that where all did this affection came from? I never received it. Was my heart curated that way, or just because it survived the worst?

And now the voice of Natalie struck my ears, and this string of thoughts broke when she asked me about my IT assignment, which I completed last night with the flask of black coffee. The project was really hectic. 

But I entered the class, and my eyes unwillingly were searching for someone, besides I didn't want to, but still they did...

My eyes were restless,

And yet my heart, 

Never got a chance to spill,

But, beats with the same frequency, still...

~ Shreshtha Verma