bloghop
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This is a story of Priya and the first love shown in glances, smiles and Bollywood music.
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The monsoon came late to Allahabad that year, as though the sky too could not make up its mind. It was August 1942, and the whole of India seemed to be holding its breath. In the narrow lane of Tagore Gali, behind the post office and beside the old peepal tree, the Sharma household rose…
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As I sit in the garden and look around,The trees sway gently in the breeze,Their leaves rustling like a symphony.The nests among these leaves,Are where the birds live.They chirp and sing with ease,As they fly through the sky so heavenly. The flowers bloom in a rainbow of hues,Their petals soft and delicate to the touch.The…