Her handwriting was so beautiful. Each letter had it's own boldness, elegance and I loved to look at them. A pen and a white space, even in a notice, was enough for her to begin. She would write and then look at it, enjoys it's beauty, goes into a serious thought and ends with a small smile. Every of those sequential actions I remember. It is so normal, universal and a must go reality that time moves foreward. Ages, days, hours, everything passes. My happiness on seeing those fonts kept on changing its demensions. My skin began to paint itself lines and so do she. Still, she wrote. But now there is a difference. As timestamps move, the interpretations made by my brain on those texts perplexed from simple happiness to pride, then to a feeling of belongingness, to love, to possessiveness, to responsibility to trust, to many other emotions for which I am weak in English to find words to substitute for and finally to a fear; a fear of death. Wrong. Perfectly wrong. Its not fear. ...

"Morning..good morning..", he came in with an enthusiastic smile. I was on my bed. I greeted him back and I got up. "Ah..wait. Hear this." He stopped me and began exactly like the Police officer wrote down.. We were eight of us heading to the Governer's house at the hill top. Yesterday, by 18:20 we had a breaking notification at the online public chat room. It was a link to a website having a half page 18 sized font text and a video followed by.  "Hello World! Isaac Meltonhlm crime, u already might hav hrd of, is nw solvd by tis. It is th Govrnr of Null-Island who is Isaac Meltonhlm. To those who havn't hrd of the crime: There ws a huge fund of abt 10 hundred transfered frm th treasury of th Island to an account referng to Mr. Meltonholm and an amount of 25 lakh missng too. On investigation by th agencies, th transfer ws found to be authenticated and verified. But none of th officials did th transfr frm the offic whch is justified by th 24*7 server s...

​"Ready?", he asked with a challenging smile. We were sitting facing my PC fingures on game control keys. He was always intrested in gaming. "Sure.", me too. He was back home after a long time. He is still the same and what I cannot be completely certain is only about her. Her name always distracted him. Misappropriated his pen, was puzzled with his phone, random knocked the table, his iris swept angles, he was sharp to spoken words and listened too, not once. I cannot call it a distraction to the full context, but it was some kind of psychological anxiety and stimuli which he was not able to hide completely, even after  his dedicated trials, which I came to know for he is a good friend of mine.  "You are my inspiration", those were some words forming a beautiful sentence, which I saw while he typed on his hand-set (I was good at guessing the keystrokes even looking from the back). I thought about it, a person who he never told me about turned to an ins...

"Glad to see you three together", I saw him texting. There was a bright expression of happiness, gratitude and pride rooted in the past, I saw, on his face. He looked at his phone, his fingures waved his face, his lips pushed in and cheeks out. A man controlled by memories.. His eyes turned to me. I lifted my eyebrows with a calm smile. "They are my friends", he came up with a photo. He looked at it. Danced his Adam's Apple. "We were always together, after we met, at our Higher Secondaries. Our lunch breakes never counted without everyone launghing, criticizing, wondering, teasing and mocking each other creating loops for future to roll back, recreate, endure and move to the next. Positiveness was always a fuel, understanding a bless and brotherhood a boon. Speeches, rhythms, boredome, problems we faced. But they never turned to be villains for comments and consolations were never weaker than worldly criticizms and despairs. Lackness and absence was never...

"It was always such a shame to read about these topics since then", he made his statement for the first time this morning. He was reading the news on his mobile phone, as he loved reading, atleast for the sake of a show off. But he had gathered enough information about almost anything much enough to hold for five minutes in a debate. "What?", I added to the moment. "Curriculum and educational policies and syllabus."  "Aha?"  "I study engineering and you too. How illogical are their curriculum designs, to me in all ways and atlest to the two thirds, I suppose, counting to the thoughts and realisations, I add. Not just a few statements I am making to greet you a good morning, it is a need to speak, I think."  My smile followed by a silence made him continue...  "We are here to learn CS and what we are doing now is learning Physics, Chemistry, Mechanics and many other stuffs that will never ever add to the benefit in the life of a...