Love over coffee

(image courtesy: cardboard love.com)

Thanks Mama for the super cuppa coffee,and Acha for the chocolates :)
Led to this...my labour of love,a little story..

Love,
Kaveri

She sat at the table,in her favourite corner.Connected her laptop and resumed her regular work.She had to finish those chapters on love and lust, she had to write about how the lady would react when her man would kiss her from behind.Each time her character would be at war with her to complete the sentence,to dance in the romance of the momentary pleasures of love,but her mind would deny such a predictable muse,until she finally minimizes the screen an.She'd then sit and worry about not finishing her work on time,for her regular cheese loving group of readers.Her mind would wander and her eyes would look places until it falls on the cup of capuccino.She'd turn off her laptop ,and take a few sips from her cup.Her favourite choco cookies would keep her company until she finally gets into the mood of writing again.

Life has not been the same for Aanya ever since she loved and lost in loveBut she firmly believed that you don't lose what you don't own.Possession isn't love.Writing e-books on romance,love and lust brought her money for her skills,but not the inner peace that money could never buy.She wore the best of clothes,roamed around with fun social groups,tied up with big publishing houses,and was the modern woman,with absolutely no complaints and issues.

Her inner demons would try to coax her into weakness, bribe her into self pity and stop her from thinking the thoughts of the lovers who'd wait for her short stories.But her soul would step aside as a nascent lover,and sit beside her writer's draft and narrate incidents of pure,passionate,lustful love ,like a person who just experienced it all on her own.

Aanya did not know whether there was a story,whether he was the prince,who was supposed to kiss her good morning,kiss her all day,and kiss her good night,until its morning again.Her warm shell of imagination never let her feel what's cold,she did not know when he was upset,did not know when there was distance,but she did see what didn't exist,loved the person who was a shadow to her imagination of perfection.

Like the aroma of coffee,his shadow stayed,his smell lingered.She wished to be in his arms, to complete her picture perfect frame of a love story,but his denial was clear, she never even tried.Because she knew that she wanted the aroma to linger,so that she would remember him over each sip of coffee.

Aaanya wrote best sellers,nothing of which had anything to do with what it takes to write from the heart.Her lovable ,flirtatious ,fictious characters and their stories were sold like hot cakes,but when someone'd tell her "I read your book,I loved Anvita's character,wish i could be like her" ,she would feel like a patient suffering from Amnesia trying to recollect,who was Anvita,and what made her so lovable.

She continued writing, and finally she wrote her heart out on a little notepad,unlike her laptop ficiton."I don't remember the last incident in my novel that got over a 1000 likes on facebook,i don't understand my book quotes that they share,i still don't relate to the characters others love.I just know,your smell lingers like the aroma of coffee,and I'll keep writing"