Preface
Even though I am a spendthrift, I am a miser when it comes to spending money on girls. A mature head on my shoulder had warned my fragile heart that spending money on girls is obsessive. So, I never indulged in it. Last week, however I did break the rule, all for an ice cream, for a girl who is decidedly leaving me in search of a career, and that too when I had very little money in my pocket. So I dedicate this story to her.
Love story and an ice cream.
Once upon a time, there was a boy who had a heart problem. The doctor said –‘anytime, any day’. He was not afraid of his death, because the heart had developed a big hole, in the process of making a door and accommodating his lady love. He had wanted a big comfortable room for her in his heart, and that reflected in the big size of the hole.
One day he decided, ‘let me go and meet my love just once before I die’.
If ever, silence had spoken so aloud, it was when the absence of jingling of coins in an empty purse bereft of rupees, talked to him, teasing him with her smile. How could he ever on earth leave a chance to be so close to her, if only to observe her smile (one day, he decided, he will freeze that smile in time, carve it out with love and display in the land of desires). His ego was also in love with her. So, it also, as romantically and as restrained as it could, asked her –ice cream? (Please say no dear, my heart started praying)
He had only forty rupees in his purse. Why he carried so little when he went to meet her is still a puzzle. As if she sensed it, as only lovers could, she ordered the costliest name that ever rolled on a lady’s lips, to tease him as only girls could. His despair bulged through his eyes………
His heart shrank, filling the hole in his heart and killing him in the process.
Moral of the story- love does not kill, but spending money for your love can.
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