One Day at a Time

About Sahiba Gunani

Writer by choice, Sales Officer by profession. Currently working with Nestlé India, this Delhi girl is a dreamer at heart exploring her ways around Mumbai. She has completed her PGDM from Vivekanand Education Society Institute of Management Studies and Research and has been a student ambassador for All Events in City.

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Every story has a beginning, a middle and an end but not necessarily in the same order.

Day 126: Holding on
Coping up with the loss is a very singular process. Life won’t let you go through it easily, and others will never be enough to make it bearable. Be it a loss of a person, of love, of hope, of life or of memories give a chance to yourself even when there aren’t any chances left to give.
She held on.

Day 132: Friends with benefits.
Hot steamy chats. “I miss you” replaced with “I want you”. Lust was the language now exchanged.

Day 1: Introduction.
Hi, he said, from his beautiful mouth in his mellifluous voice. She was attracted to him like a moth to fire, and from that moment she knew he would be a danger to her heart.

Day 7: Old dusty building.
She forgot they were standing so close till she felt his breathe on her neck, making the hair of her nape shoot straight as if current rushed her skin. He then shifted his face towards her, lips now just an inch away and as if taking the cue from the movement of her eyelids, he closes the distance between them, and the “never been kissed” curse was now over.

Day 34: Strategy
I love you, she said. Three words floating in the air between them, surrounded by his silence, embraced by the awkwardness of crowd and lost in her whisper.

Day 135: Separation
Misunderstanding never knocks alone; it always brings along the company of anger, hurt, bitterness and failure.
The arrangement ended today. She found her way back to someone else’s arms but not to her heart.

Day 45: Paradox
George Bernard Shaw once said, “There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart’s desire. The other is to gain it.”
They meet again, launched in desires, unmasking the bodies as the souls, succumbing to the temptation.

Every story has a beginning, a middle and an end, not necessarily in the same order. Past is just a story we tell ourselves, it is like clinging to something that was never yours to keep. It’s stealing the truth from the reality. A false hope. A scary delusion.


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