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Scrapbook of Memories


4 Votes | Average: 4.75 out of 54 Votes | Average: 4.75 out of 54 Votes | Average: 4.75 out of 54 Votes | Average: 4.75 out of 54 Votes | Average: 4.75 out of 5 (4 votes, average: 4.75 out of 5)
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Scrapbook of MemoriesIt’s a rainy Sunday afternoon and he’s feeling unsettled. Having got up late, he’s still feeling a strong urge to get right back under the covers. The exhaustion of several days, rather weeks, seems to be catching up with him…

She too, seems to have a touch of the blues. Is she missing her family – the boisterous brother and crazy sister whom she fought like mad with about the TV and computer? Is she still upset about a silly fight they had last week when he and she went out Diwali shopping? Its hard to tell, but they both mope around, exchanging barely a sentence or two, as the rain continues to beat down on a grey day. Hardly the way a couple married just last year should act on a holiday.

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Pinning Him Down


51 Votes | Average: 3.61 out of 551 Votes | Average: 3.61 out of 551 Votes | Average: 3.61 out of 551 Votes | Average: 3.61 out of 551 Votes | Average: 3.61 out of 5 (51 votes, average: 3.61 out of 5)
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Pinning Him DownAs she washed her hair, she was thinking, “Will one more Sunday pass without achieving a single thing?” This question may have sounded strange echoing in the head of one who was so calm, collected and efficient in her office that she had earned the nickname ‘Guru’ among her colleagues. But it wasn’t that she was worried about her own achievements. She was instead thinking about what they – her husband and her would achieve as a couple on a holiday.

When she came out of her bath, her prophecy looked in danger of coming true. He lay sprawled on the floor with a cushion, watching the cricket match on their new LCD TV. As she passed by, smelling of soap and shampoo, he held out his arms invitingly. She smiled, but wasn’t tempted. Gone were those early days of marriage when even the sight of his disheveled hair, his rumpled T shirt in bed, was enough to make her feel a rush of tenderness. Now, instead, there was a tightening in her stomach as she thought, “Its eleven o’ clock. Will he ever get around to remembering the tubelight that has to be changed in the spare bedroom?”

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