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A day…

“I ” was walking aimlessly on the street. Concentrating on the footpath to avoid the pits, manholes, and early stages of animal manure- abundantly scattered here and there. It was the end of June and today’s weather with cool wind was in contrast with the scorching heat of last two months in Azamgarh.

The refreshing cool breeze in cloudy weather in a small town made a perfect morning far from the hustle bustle of the big town India, of which I had become a part of.

Wearing a blue T shirt with a torn jeans and chappal and the welcome breeze brushing through I’s face and ruffling my hair, he decided to walk towards chowk to grab a cup of tea from the road side vendor.

As I walked in nonchalance, from a Panwalla’s Radio Hummed Rafi “Main zindagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya…

As I walked further, he got lost in the pristine beauty of the Mughal architecture abundantly present in this older part of the city. As I walked on the street, marveling at the architecture and made a mental note to ask Dadaji more about this part of the city, he saw something, the beauty of which made him stop and take a notice.

In front of I was a building- old but proud and imposing reminder of its beautiful past. On the first floor of this building, sat a girl wearing a white salwaar kameez with shades of blue. She was sitting in an ‘aram kursi’ and was reading some book in rapt attention, oblivious of I looking at her.

She had a round face. Her beautiful, big black eyes, adorned by perfectly shaped eyebrows were fixed on the book. Her thin lips crafted to perfection by the master sculptor. Her ears had tiny ear rings shining on the either side of her cute face.

Her hair was tied in a bun at the back of her head. A few strands of her hair escaped the constraints of bun and were playing on her forehead and eyes and she would constantly try, in vain, to keep ‘em out of her eyes with her right hand.

One end of her dupatta was sandwiched between the ‘aram kursi’ and her back. The other end of the dupatta going round her neck was swaying slowly and aimlessly in the slow wind.

On the wall in balcony behind her, was a window. The wooden window frames, seemingly crafted in 19th century were loose at hinges and hung elegantly from the window. I stood there for some time- bewitched by the mesmerizing beauty in the back drop of black clouds.

For a moment the girl lost her concentration, her eyes drifted from the book and she looked at I. She hesitated a little and then with a swift elegant motion, she got up, adjusted her dupatta and went inside the house.

I came back to senses. The song on the Panwallah’s Radio interestingly changed to “Hai apna dil, To aawara…

Smiling, he shook his head, made a mental note to come back to the building and moved ahead towards chowk… wind ruffling through his hair.


0 13 July, 2011 Other Stories July 13, 2011

About the author

Pranjal is a mechanical engineer by profession from National Institute of Technology, Jamshedpur.

View all articles by Pranjal Srivastava


  1. rahul

    One end of her dupatta was sandwiched between the ‘aram kursi’ and her back….
    kash pranjal tum b dupatta hote…

    Do chaar minute dekha unko,
    Dil ekdum tharki ho baitha
    Kash main hota ek dupatta
    Badan se unke lipta hota….

  2. rahul

    baise pranjal asli baat to is baat mein hai k agar wo bhi pad le ise jinke liye ye likha gaya hai….to tumhari lekhni safal ho jaye..

    1. Pranjal

      Makaan pe letter daal ata hoon. URL likh kar ki mohtarma aapki tareef me kuch alfaaz internet par daale, takalluf kar ke dekh lein 🙂

  3. rahul

    bhai achcha laga tabhi to ye likha tha…”baise pranjal asli baat to is baat mein hai k agar wo bhi pad le ise jinke liye ye likha gaya hai….to tumhari lekhni safal ho jaye..”

    aur shayad unhe bhi achcha hi lage…
    aur bhai ab to ek URL wali chitthi likh hi dalo.

  4. sayan

    bhai saab sahi hai… but didnt gt one thing. jnta tha tu tharki hai but itna juaada ki 1st floor me baithe ek ladke ke lips…chal wo chod… eye-brows… chal wo bhi chod… chote chote ear-rings taak dekh liya. Gaandh macha diya yaar…. mujhe fakra hai tere tharakpan me…

    1. Pranjal

      Thanks Dost. Sab tum bakar tum logo ke saath hi seekhi hai.
      Lekin bhare baazar meri izzat ka faaluda mat banao sale!

      1. rahul

        sahi sayan…
        baise to bahut kuchh dekha hoga pranjal ne usme, bas yaha jikra nhi kiya…
        esa ho sakta h ki pranjal bas chehre pe hi ruk jaye…arey bhai chehre ke alawa bhi bahut cheez hoti hain…wo sab pranjal fone pe batayega.

  5. jaspreet singh

    😀 , so mr srivastava it seems you trying to find a substitute for ur OLD DIRTY JEANS
    by the hw cm tht boy ws able to c those tiny earings????

  6. Usha

    Thankfully “I” was just admiring the lady and not wooing her, planning to marry her and what not. For that would have just gone against so many of your laws!! And that’d be a crime. 😛

  7. Mani

    Finally! ok yeah. ahem ahem, i read it before you all did. hee hee. But this guy is too much. i mean he is such a perfectionist ki he hardly is satisfied with his articles. and ni I was not a wrong decision. it is just perfect. ok? 😛

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