Sitting in his balcony overlooking valleys of Kumaun, he fondly caresses the fading pictures in the albums; he can almost feel the velvety touch of tresses and warmth of her cheeks.
He was supposed to forget her in these four decades, yet he fails to remember a day when she didn’t peek from the crowd of thoughts, responsibilities and work.
Only if you have checked- it was not my handwriting that was there on the letter bidding you adieu.
“Catching the glint of winter sunrise in your eyes
Waking up to a desolate monsoon night
Still lost in maze of what if”
Rest of the stories at the froggy link :-