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  • It’s First Love , Everytime ✨♥️ One Fine Day , all of a situation… I happened to find an old notebook , Behind the pages i found a dry small Rose , After which i couldn’t stop smiling , then i remebered that this is the same Rose that made me blush uncontrollably. Looking at this Rose would make me forget everything. On that day once again , i sat by the window , kept my tea on the lodge and tasted the sweet and sour flavours of the mango of my memories hanging on the branches of the tree. I remebered that time in 7th grade , i was reminded of that time in 7th grade when i used to leave the class by an innocent smile . He was just infront the class. Today i was feeling the same kind of senseless again , Today again , June’s sun was better than the monsoon. Under this sun , if i could see him , i hoped that i would fall in love with love again . I was blushing on looking at the tree branches , as if in them contained a box words of praise for me… And confidence !! I had immediately started thinking that i was as pretty as Waheeda Rehman , And that unfortunately guy’s smile resembled Shah Rukh Khan’s… I had started writing poems upon thinking about him…Upon seeing him , the rest of the crowd disappeared…. ‘Pehla Nasha ‘ played in the background always.. To be honest , it wasn’t the first but like everytime ….. In school, atleast there was a corridor … But now , i only have the support of Facebook…i had lost my heart to his every profile picture.. This hangover did not have a corridor to take place in , it was the computer’s fault .. I was smiling and worrying while i was looking at the box. This was a rather absurd obssession ! Everytime , l’d stand in front of my wardroben for hours and look at my clothes … And from that piles of clothes , i’d take out his favourite White top…. If this became a long time occurence , my poor top would be ruined , In the trials of My Love , it would have become pulp… Because a girl who wore ripped jeans and t-shirt was full of feminine nuances.. And whose fun i made of until yesterday , today , i became that same person . I started establishing relatinships with new things , And now i carrieda purse in place of a loose bag … And now there was place for gloss and a comb inside the purse , And now a few strands of hair fell calculately on my face . I’d casually look into a mirror at least a 100 times each day. And i wouldn’t go anywhere without kajal in my eyes..My ears always had earrings in them , And my bangles hung onto my arms like leeches . I used to say the most bizzare things with absolutely no grace.. And now my hi-hellos also had a flimy tune .. Every love story is more romantic than mine. But if felt like every movie was made about me . The swaying branch of love was now hold by someone. Every song sounded as if someone could see my heart’s condition , i spend a whole year doing this… And then whatever happened was inevitable . The Rose of love dried up and the love returned to wherever it come from , And in my personal love story Teja and crime master Gogo won.. Then i was back to my previous status , from the window to the sofa . I used to write a poem effortlessly , but now i get stuck at every stanza .. My purse turned into a loose bag .. I lost my comb , and the lip gloss stopped shining… Don’t even talk about music .. I don’t like romantic songs as much as i used to anymore … And now the mirror lives alone just like my heart . My hair doesn’t listen to me anymore, it’s all over the place . But friends , its not a very sad things .. It will rain without clouds again. So what, if Amar Prem left ?? This time Salman will come . Now dreams will build a home by this window right Here …
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