((Mahira love story))
Name = Mahira City = Gurugram Age = 20 Eyes colure = Blue Hight = 5.5
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It was Vijay's first day at the writing training centre. He was sitting on his chair and reading a booklet to learn writing. Suddenly his eyes went to the entrance of his cabin. A dark-skinned girl named Mahira with black eyes was coming to his cabin. The girl came and sat on the chair next to him. She placed the typewriter and started writing. Vijay did not feel like writing. He wanted to talk to the girl any time. He placed the paper on the typewriter and sat down and started looking at the girl. The girl's fingers were falling on the console of the typewriter as if she was playing a harmonium. What are you looking at? After a while the girl said angrily. I am watching you writing. What have you come here to do? To learn writing. Will you learn like this? There was a constant intensity in the girl's voice. Today is my first day. 'The lace will get stuck when the attention is somewhere else...' The girl pulled the typewriter a little towards herself and started fixing the lace. Meanwhile the lace fell down. When she bent to pick it up, the dupatta fell from her neck. Vijay also bent to pick up the lace. The expressions of disappointment on his face fell on the girl's chest. He was shocked.
'Look, it is well made.' When the girl said this, he came to his senses. The girl started writing again, but Vijay was not in the mood to write. He was busy talking to the girl. 'Are you not in a good mood?' The girl suddenly asked him and he became happy. 'It seems I will not be able to read.' Signs are like this. Your name? Vijay asked the name to take the conversation forward. Mahira. It is a good name. But I don't like this name. Why? If there is any reason, tell me. Saying this, Mahira got up from her seat and came out of the cabin with her bag hanging on her shoulder. Vijay kept watching her go. After she left, she put the bag on the typewriter. The typewriter started looking pathetic to him. And the world changed. From this day Vijay started flying in the discussion. He started roaming on the roof in the evening. He would count the stars and talk to them. He would compose beautiful songs in the moonlight. The summer sun started feeling hot to him. The world became pink and life blossomed. Peace disappeared from his eyes. He kept roaming in the gardens for a few kilometers. When he told this to one of his companions, he said, 'Guru, I have fallen in love with her.' He felt good after listening to his companion. The next day Vijay told Mahira that I have written a song on you. I want to know if you have read it or not. 'This is very nice. You do not know me. You are my guest. Why do you know me?' I have written it based on what I know. Mahira started reading the poems composed by him. The gurgling river quenches the thirst of the people, irrigates the fields of the farmers, there are many obstacles on the way, yet it meets the sea, in its love the sea hits its head against the shore, the proof of the concentration of his love is the tide rising on the night of the full moon, if there is a river then there is the sea, without Mahira the sea will be abandoned, in devotion to the sea the river crosses mountains, slopes and man-made obstacles. Below the song he had composed the sea in front of Vijay. Mahira saw it and extended the paper to Vijay. Vijay said that I want you to peel it. It feels good to peel it. Sarita did not say anything. She started writing on the paper kept in front of her. Vijay kept looking at her. Mahira also felt that Vijay was looking at her. When Geetika is uncomfortable, the writer does not support her. 'How can you say this? 'I believe that human life is also a poem. My life is also a poem. I do not like my life. That is why I do not like poetry either. Wow, you are an artist. What you said is a poem. Not a poem, it is the pain of the poem, its suffering. Which is born from the artist who has made my life.' After getting such blessings, Sarita went out of the cabin. How is this so? Vijay looked at Mahira's typewriter. It seemed as if the typewriter was writing an elegy. But Sarita wanted a good boy, handsome and good. This was the only meeting Mahira had. visit my another website>>((beautiful))
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