Once upon a time
there was a lady, precisely, happily married and mother of two, who one day got
a call from her husband telling her that
their marriage has gone kaput without a substantial reason whatsoever.
The envelope of her happiness is torn apart by the cruel hands of destiny and
like any Bollywood flicks she vows into getting him back, her first love. After
turning pages of unnecessarily created situations and hours of boring read, you
finally find her husband returning to her with heart full of remorse (one thing
that is most unlikely on the part of any man on this planet). Yes, I take pride
being a feminist at times for in the end male chauvinism and feminism
germinates from the same seed called emotion.Kindly do not
misjudge my humble purpose behind bugging you with this expected climate of the
most expected plot from a novel I’ve recently perused. No, I am in no mood to
switch my profession from a journo to an orator nor was it a suggestion for you
to read the book. It nowhere provided me a delightful time pass but helped me
recognize my urge to reconcile with my first love, playing with words. I
decided on the spur that now since it has been nearly an epoch of my divorce
with creativity, I should mend things with the Eco-system of alphabet and
provide some nutrition to my electronic diary with the food of another post, My
fourth Post! Applause intended.
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