Anju Sharma
"Anurag Mishra!" He almost screamed.
"Dutta pagli ... but Anurag Mishra, how many will be there."
As soon as heartbeat walked, there was unintentional riding on a trade mill. Nain stopped for a few moments and then stooped down and clicked on the profile pick. In the pickup was the whole picture of Sudarshan Man, standing on a wall from a wall. Jumped with a shaking hand between the whistling throbbing hands, and the heart was trapped in the flutter.
Despite the spread pixels it was the same. The same Mane Anu, i.e. Anurag Mishra The brightly colored, brown eyes which were always in search of what was going on in the disguised beard-shade and who knew how many things were known at one time. The same nicotine layer was thin and silent, lazy, swollen lip, which was often decided on hand to the eyes. Perhaps still there will be a cardiovascular suppression behind them, which has got a contract to push back the cigarette's booze with deception. The white color went down somewhat in the idols of time. The hair was not as dense as before, but it was as black and shiny. It was strange that in shaving the silver was shouting from here and there for about a decade and a half decades of age. The shoulders were slightly tilted, but Ekhur Jism still seemed to be refusing to accept the pressure of age.
The picture was rooted like Naina. He felt that his feet were tied on a returning time machine in the past. In the next few moments, the decade of decades was fixed as it was never as it was ever. The time passed to a cloud of mist, the time machine that was rubbing was the same, in a room with the same roof where Naina was 15 years ago.
They were two houses but two were not like that. Perhaps there is no attempt to separate them, and history is a witness that if possible it would not have been successful. Their relationship with blood or the caste community was not linked to the relation between the worldly heart, which was used to confirm that the common courtyards and the roofs were connected, the path was made between the center of Munder. And the same roof was built on the room which was a common room for young generations. Three generations handed over this relation to each new generation in the heritage of each other in a thread of friendship. The fourth generation also recorded their presence when the eldest son of the family of Lax Aditya was born here. Both houses were sunk in a celebratory atmosphere.
Naina was from the third generation of the Dubey family. When a mother of a father-in-law does not remember the lion family calling her older sons 'mother', her mother was called her mother, she does not remember. Then there is no other address inquiry even on the senses. So now her mother was her mother and Bauji was her boss. Mother abandoned the milking child and became upset with this world. I do not know after leaving the father, Rukhsati has chosen mother or mother stunned herself but Naina was alone. The childless aunt had taken her as a mother and she had taken it from the chest, but loneliness was inherited in her and that alone, she took her into the world of books. It was often a matter of curiosity for others. Deven Bhaiya, the youngest son of the Lion family, will often leave Naina teasing, often leaving Naina but she lives in books. Separated that Naina Khallas
The friends of Deven Bhaiya used to come home often from school time. Naina knew everyone, but she could have been the reason for her hesitant nature that she never talked to anyone. The words revolve around it, and the chance can only work. The silence of silence lurks in its own world Naina
Naina often shares the hand of sister-in-law in birthdays or at home parties. Right now, Naina was in the school that Deven Bhaiya College had reached, the roof room was now started buzzing with new faces. At Aditya's Birthday Party, Naina had found a similar face sitting in a silent, poker corner. When looking at the cold drink, when the strange smell of cardamom caught him, then why did he go to Naina? This silence is a sham or maybe a curtain lying on the Tsunami moving in those eyes. This was Anurag Mishra, Jaiyar Man of Deven Bhaiya.
The year passed like this. Many friends with their friends come home late and stop at night. One such night Dev Bhaina asked Nain to give any book or magazine. Naina's 'book of the stories of Makissim Gorky' When several days of the rooftop rooms were found in the shelf, many pages were folded. It was astonishing that all of them were also beloved stories of Naina. Then the day started to happen, Naina got laid on the shelf when the book was read. At the same time, many magazines and literary-non-literary books were also found there which Naina bin would have picked up.