FF: Love of a Caged Bird~MG~ Part 4 Page 27 ~ 7/23 - Page 14

Originally posted by: PurplePetal

EDIT"

I lied...Update TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

is it tomorrow yet?????????????? 

Originally posted by: basicquestion1

is it tomorrow yet?????????????? 

Edited by PurplePetal - 12 years ago

Part Three:

 

            "Love is like playing the piano. First you must learn to play by the rules, and then you must forget the rules and play from your heart." 

 

            The trees past endlessly in the open breadth forming an endless labyrinth, tempting me so tightly to seek freedom by losing myself in the endless path. A lone tear trickled down my tear as this thought plagued my clouded mind. I had Payal and Ayu to take care of, I could not seek to fulfill my own narcissistic desires and evade their small requests. That would have been pure evil, and I would no less than Vikrant in this situation, either. 

            And running away from this miserable life would also be escaping from a precious emblem that has been unconsciously ingrained in my broken frame of a life, and has became such a prominent part that losing something this valuable would be no less than self immolation.

            Maan Singh Khurana, or more formally noted as my secret admirer that whisked my heart away from me unknowingly, and cared for it unconditionally, and will keep it immortally.

 

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

            It was the after the first month of school and parent teacher conferences were coming about. This has always been the best part of my entire grading period. Loving it was natural, for seeing the parents of these brilliant and uniquely talented students, and praising their work, and in return seeing their parents eyes fill of up with tears or see the proud parents hold their head high. And on the other hand, the devastating part of informing someone's parents that their child is slacking on their work and has to improve in order to, at least get satisfactory marks, if not exceptional ones. That remained always the toughest part.

            I decorated the room and sat on a chair that was in the front of the classroom that I read stories from, occasionally. I had some snacks in the front table and a handful of papers in my hand showing or rather representing each child's performance level.

            Someone tapped onto the door and came in with a child and sad opposite from me, a chair that I provided for them. It was a second grade class, the children's chairs would be impossible for the parents to fit into.

            "Hello Mrs. Smith, How are you?" I pleasantly went through conversation formalities as I hoped it would ease the tension of exposing one of the trouble makers in the class, her son, Danny Smith.

            "Hello, Miss Handa, pleasure to meet you. And I am fine, how about you?" she spoke as I gestured her to sit in the seat that I had so graciously provided. Danny scurried off to his desk and table and sat there eyeing his work.

            "I am very much well," I spoke with zeal in my voice to avoid facing reality, "And your son, Danny."

            "I know. He is an amazing student, I bet. He tells me so all the time," Mrs. Smith's head rose in happiness as she spoke so profoundly about her own son. I felt even worse for breaking her inner sanctum of false facts but I had a job to perform.

            "Actually Mrs. Smith, that isn't the actual truth," I nervously started and began looking through  my papers to find Danny's . As I finally located it, I handed it to her. She examined the paper and went through many emotions, far too many for me to track, beside the most obvious one, astonishment.

            "His performance was really good the first couple of days but after which he stopped doing his work and continued to talk to his neighbors. But all his neighbors managed to hand in all the work, but not him." I started my lecture on Danny's misdoings.

            "Have tried to move his seats," Mrs. Smith asked as she continued to eye the paper.

            "I have, a lot. But he always manages to find someone to talk to every time I move him," I spoke up, "I would like to place him by himself, without anyone near him, but I would like to know that if that is completely alright with you."

            Silence stayed for a while as she looked at the paper, "I am okay with that. And please feel free to call me anytime he does not do his work."

            "Mrs. Smith," I spoke to seek her attention that was still at the paper filled with zeros and incompletes and a huge paragraph telling her of my opinion on her son, "every student made a package for their parent to see of the work they have completed and something special that they could make on their own, but Danny did not complete this project. He did however make this drawing."

            I handed her a piece of paper and she looked extremely flushed and disappointed. She looked at me and than the paper and than eyed her son. The paper was a drawing of a boy that resembled Danny and had writing on the top that said 'Nobody Cares'. I expected that it was phase for children to break their shells, but not this drastic, "Miss Handa. Danny and I will be having a long conversation with his father. And I will make sure that he does his work. And thank you for your time."

            She rose and offered her hand, I shook it and watched her scurry across the classroom and walk away with her son. I sighed and fell down onto my chair. One down, twenty more to go. 

            The evening past on as parents filed in and out of my room at their own pace. Most of them received the wonderful compliments of the child being an amazing student, and others faced the hard part. Disappointment mixed with anguish. I had seen twenty students out my twenty-two. One being my own younger brother was excluded immediately. I waited for her, the last student and her parent to come, but they hadn't showed up. It was already seven thirty so I had decided to leave thinking that they would not come.

            I walked over to the my desk in the front of the room and opened the drawer to receive my purse when I heard a faint knock on my door and an unknown voice ricochet across my walls in a deep baritone voice that managed to sound soft and caring, "Miss Handa are you still open to conference, or am I too late?"

            I turned to see who was at the entrance of my classroom. I looked at a man wearing a casual purple shirt rolled to his elbows and jeans that look boot cut from here. There was a hint of facial hair upon his face and his hair combed back perfectly. He looked simply dashing yet facile. He had a small and faint smile that was placed upon his face and his eyes spoke an unknown language to me, he was pleading to me, beseeching me in his own language.

            I looked down to notice that my last student was right next to his legs, Poonam Khurana.

            "Why yes Mr. Khurana, I am still open to conferences, please be seated," I responded in daze. Wanting to leave was out of the question, I was forced to say yes to him. Why? I do not know, and I am scared to find out.

            "Thank you Miss Handa," he spoke with repose in his voice, "I was stuck in traffic, you know the highway after five in Chicago, beyond the worst thing in the world."

            I smiled slightly at his comment, he truly was at ease. I sat upon my chair when I heard a little laughter ensue from the bottom, "Miss Handa, Bhaiyya is really funny. Don't you think?"

            I smiled for her although I was perplexed from the inside. Bhaiyya? Where were her parents? Cognizance trailed behind as I realized that her parents were no longer part of this mundane world. I brushed the thought aside to prevent myself from looking at my own sob story of a life.

            I gestured at him to sit in the seat in front of me and he happily obliged but Poonam spoke up that caused him to stand straight back up, "No Bhaiyya. You have to sit in my seat that I sit everyday. Pretty please with a new ball point pen on top."

            Giggles came out of me and Poonam, "Ball point pen, Poonam. Why?"

            "Because when I get him pens, Bhaiyya gets really, really happy." She winked at me and I shook my head in disbelief. This man before was a piece of work, and I had just meet as him, and figuring him out would take forever, I already presumed.

            "Well than. Your choice Mr. Khurana," I regretted saying those words when I glanced at his face. He annoyed with the request but when he turned to Poonam we plastered a very warm smile upon his face. I could already tell that he indeed loved Poonam, a lot.

            "Okay Poonam, but only for you," he spoke with a glint of tease in his voice, "Understand."

            Poonam shook her head fervently in agreement. He walked up to her desk that had her name written on with her handwriting in the front of the classroom. He pulled out the chair and sat upon it but looked extremely agitated and uncomfortable. He tried to put his feet under the desk but the size compared his was astronomically difference. He than resorted to pushing the chair back and crossing his legs and looking at me to hide his turmoil.

            "So Mr. Khurana," I began.

            "Please call me Maan. You make me sound old," he chirped up forcing a smile on my face.

            Calling him by his name would be a new ground of a relationship for someone I had barely met, but I felt nice doing that, "Only if you call me Geet."

            "Deal," he immediately retorted, "And that is a lovely name."

            He again caused me to blush. Was he openly flirting with me, "So is yours," I responded only to make me more embarrassed? He smirked and looked at me with a still gaze. It was finally broken with Poonam.

            "What about my name? Isn't it pretty," Poonam jumped onto Maan's lap and looked at both of us. I waited her Maan to respond but he remained transfixed on me.

            "Poonam. Your name is beautiful, and so are you."

            "But not as beautiful as you," I heard Maan whisper gently. I looked at him astounded but I was still flattered. I ignored the comment and took my last piece of paper and gave it to him.

            "This is Poonam's, so far, performance level," our hands gently brushed as I handed him the paper. The small of contact made me jittery. I was shocked at my reaction; I had accidentally touched half the parents that walked through this door, but him, it caused something unfamiliar to set in. Maybe because he was not a parent, but someone close to my age. I looked from my inner notion and looked at the ground to avoid him, who was currently looking at the paper I handed him.

            I saw him wince at something that did not appeal to him. He looked at Poonam with a circumvent expression, "Poonam, what is this low score, only 75 out of 100. That isnt good."

            He spoke to her gently but in a heavy voice, making sure that she understood the depth on his words.

            "But Bhaiyaa," she started to squeal.

            "Actually Mr. Khurana," he shot me a serious look, and I looked at my previous statement to understand his discomfort, "I mean Maan, that was the highest of the class. Your sister is very brilliant."

            "Highest in the class," Maan was aghast by my statement.

            "Sorry, I should have clarified. We are starting multiplication and I wanted to have a good look at were each student stands so I gave them worksheet. Poonam, by far, excelled beyond my expectations. And don't worry; this score isn't a test score. I added that in the class participation section, which is only 10% of the overall grade."

            I finished my monologue and patiently waited for this response, however quiescence once again out shown the room. From him face I could depict that he was re-evaluating my statement. I found it very ironic for him to be disappointed with the highest score in the class. But I than recalled my own parents. They never liked me getting low score, no matter what others had. I remember one day coming home with the highest score with only one question wrong. I wanted to make my parents feel proud but they gave me an entire lecture speaking how one wrong question ruined my entire score. My parents remained strict when education was ever in the equation. But if it wasn't for them, I would never be here, sadly, that was a total pun.

            "Bhaiyya," Poonam now whined as she locked her arms around his neck, "its really doesn't make a big difference, I still have an A."

            I noticed her wink at her brother, and he could not help but chuckle, but the new vibration that erupted in his body caused his equilibrium on the chair to shatter. He tipped to one side of the chair, and I could not help but giggle this time. Soon, they all were laughing with me.

            "Maan, trust me. She is really good student. She turns in all her work, on time. And if she is early, she helps other students complete their work. She helps clean up the room, and the best thing ever is that she isn't afraid to ask a question. Your sister is uniquely talented. You can't help but love her."

            "Don't forget to compliment yourself Miss..I mean Geet. If wasn't for you than I don't believe that she could be such an amazing student," Maan's statement placed me in a state of shocked. He was truly flirting with me. I didn't mind, but was completely astonished. He seemed lovable, and sweet, and loved his sister tremendously. And well he didn't look half bad, who am I kidding. He looks amazing. I shooed these thoughts aside.

            "Well, um. I really do have to leave. I'm truly sorry," I had escape before my treacherous heart decided to set it self free.

            "Oh," Maan looked very disheartened, as if I was thwarting his evil plan, but it would be truly become evil if I did not leave at this very moment.

            "Yes. We should leave Bhaiyya. It is almost 7:30; I can't miss another episode of Victorious." Poonam became my ultimate savior at that moment.

            "Sure, okay," a frazzled Maan began to make his way to me, "Nice meeting you." He gave me his hand and I took it in. I felt light headed at his mere touch. I never meet a man so nice and sweet, and I would never meet another. Life was cruel, you couldn't go against it, you have to play by there rules, or else it wont hesitate a minute to actuate you to new a place. This thing called 'life' was completely biased, and I was not playing in its favor.

            I watched them walk away but did not miss the moment when Maan slightly glanced back at me. That look left me stumped. I collapsed in my chair as I began to finally see that life wasn't just cruel, it was heartless.

 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

           

            I began my daily routine for a Sunday morning. I made some coffee and let Payal and Ayush sleep in, it was only 8:00. It has been 3 days since I met someone that threatened to extract the world beneath me without me even noticing. These thoughts left me apprehensive. I walked outside to receive today's paper. Payal had current events class this year and needed to keep an eye on the paper.

            I walked outside to notice something glistened in the hue of the sun. I walked down the porch steps to see something snuggled in the corner. It was a teddy bear with a card that had a sheen cover to it. I looked around to see who could have dropped this but only no one came in sight. I huffed and walked inside with my mind running on all motors to understand this new trinket that came into my possession. I sat down on the sofa and cuddled in and opened the read the note.

           

A glance upon you, made my heart skip

And I easily fell, collapsed, or slipped

I hope for a day, when this fall would not be in vain

That you would catch me, and we are forever twain

 

            Tears cloud my thoughts, and ruled my mind, but my heart seemed untouched. I kissed the paper, without even knowing who, and what these were related to. I looked at the little teddy bear with a little heart in that said 'Be Mine.' Tears of regret, and nostalgia seemed to ebb out of me, and left me cold and deserted and looking at the oasis before me, but not having the courage or right to touch it.

            "Didi, can you make pancakes," I heard Payal's voice echo down. Alarmed I took the two trinkets and shoved them in the drawer in the foyer and locked it. I never knew that this lock would ever come in handy.

 

            Weeks went by and the notes continued to flood the front steps my little house. I kept them a secret, I did not want them to figure out the dilemma that their sister was facing. Ever so slowly a letter 'K' came about on the bottom of the page. My mind when through thousands of names but it was feeble attempt to make sense of a complicated situation. But right after 2 weeks, a letter 'M' was placed in front of the K. I was thrown in a whirlwind of new thoughts. I was baffled once again, but instead of seeking answers to a pleasant time, I seeked to live in the moment to avoid my present.

            But curiosity was a sin all by itself. I knew that letters where placed at night, so I could see them in the morning. They didn't come everyday, but Saturday's and Sunday's they came without fail. I planned to stay up all night to find the crook of my heart. I waited in the kitchen window that had a perfect view of the outside porch.

            I dosed off unwillingly but a loud thud of car door broke my serene dream. I saw a man masked with the depths of dawn walk to my porch and place a letter on the side. He was turned away, so I could not notice him, but he turned and looked at the house. I notice stubble and a firm jaw line.

            I inched in closer to see his face thoroughly. Soon a streak of light from sun lightened the atmosphere but illuminated my world. I saw his face, and it was the same face that rendered me speechless a couple months ago. It was Maan Khurana. Everything fell into place. MK, Maan Khurana. The letters, the days. I clutched onto the glass as I saw him walk away. I wanted to run into his arms and live eternity in them. He was in love with me, and more so, he already stole my heart, and sadistic part is, that I some how gave it him.

            My cell phone's beep redirected my attention. I saw it was text and opened it quickly.

 

I'm landing at 10 at O'Hare, be there on time Geet.

The media needs to know that we are in love, understand.

-Vikrant.

 

            I was right about one thing, Life is heartless.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

            "Ma'am. Ma'am," the cab drivers talking broke me out of my reverie, "we are here."

            I looked to see outside my window. It was a mansion and at the gate it had the name 'Shukdev' plastered with big gold letters. We are at the right place.

            I handed the driver cash and told him to keep the change. I started to walk in to the place where I would have to indulge myself falsely in this pitiless party, and unwillingly had to show concern and affliction for my surroundings. And worse, I had to make sure everyone believed that I was irrevocably in love with Vikrant Shukdev.

            I entered the big doors to be pierced to my steps.

            Maan and Vikrant were standing juxtapose to each other.

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

HEY FRIENDS!!

How was it?????

I know, most of you are bored that she is talking about the past

and blah blah blah...but you need to know the

past in order to understand the future...if that makes sense

I cant progress the story if there are a lot of holes in the story

lines backbone...

So please understand. But this was the last past reflection thing...so yah

EDITED...hope i got all of them

might be my last update for the next 3 weeks. Vacation to Chicago... so yah.

I really hope you liked it. im really scared. I have a really bad feeling that my writing is bad right now, did this in a RUSH truly scared.

Give me feedback!!!

 

Comment, Hit the Like Button, or Both

 

Love

 

Isha

Edited by PurplePetal - 12 years ago

RES Edited by Krishnaluv94 - 12 years ago

lovely update...but after ages...!!! waitin for next update soon

sooo lovely and longgg update👏👏👏. sooo nice convo between maaneet and maan was flirting with geet😉😉 and seceretly leaving gifts for  her but why he didn't come to see her and tell her. just curious. now geet knows that it was maan. what she is going to do😆😆. i hate vikrant😡 thanks for pm and pls update soon

gawd... both togethr..

awesome, brilliant part.
loved it.
 continue soon

Thank God that she knows it is Maan...and loved how he was flirting with her...do update soon.