happy love story

He would woke up each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was going right for him, by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad; he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others--the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, fall asleep with his heart in his empty white room, that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. . . Every day when he gets back from his college, he finds himself alone only with his sol

It was half past two at night, the train was moving at its full speed and everyone was in their deepest of slumbers except the two insomniacs � I and Ishan. �Only two hours is left and then we will reach our destination!� said Ishan I nodded in approval. We were going to Kerala, for our first Industrial tour. This was the first time when our whole class (except few people) was going somewhere together, excitement added a great spice and surely we were going to explore new levels of fun. �What are you thinking?� asked Ishan �Nothing� I said �I am not at all sleepy. What about you?� �Same here� �Then tell me the story of your love life.� �My story is all over my blogs and they are the same old break-up story, nothing new. I haven�t heard any such things from your side. So bring it on.� �I don�t have any such stories.� �Don�t lie, you are 20 years old now and I am sure you will have atleast one girl in your life.� He hesitated a bit but then I probed him to narrate his story, he started n