Writing

Khwahish Born with a rare disease – Fernweh. People predicted about her that she was bold, intelligent, brave, extrovert. The fact, she was born to keep her innocence alive forever. Her mother knew that she gave birth to an exquisite princess. She was well aware of her baby’s childlike pure soul & the demonic world. She never even let her daughter know how beautiful she is. She never allowed Khwahish to go anywhere outside of her house. Khwahish’s entire world belongs to her home only. She thought, what is that bad or good outside my mom doesn’t allow me to go & see it. She might be green with envy of me & acted like a toxic parent. She took her stout-hearted step outside of her house. She left to see the world.

A Starry-Eyed would make you laugh & cry, make you fall in love more with life & beloved Parents. The motive to write this book is to make you more attentive to looking after your parents, the care, affection behind their restrictions we overlook in our hectic schedules while endeavouring. We are not concerned to know how many precious moments we missed in the race of so-called success.

Materialistic possessions can give us short term happiness. The blessings we receive from our Parents, elders would remain forever with us till last breath.

A Naive girl Khwahish left her house without telling her mother, unaware of the term – EVIL. Everything was perfect in her dictionary. She considered the World would be the same as she hallucinated. She left to be a successful girl & to acquire materialistic possessions. What happened to her, what she faced? How would she survive next? She got died, or destiny saved her life? To get to know, please unlock the mystery by buying A Starry-eyed. I’ve faith you would appreciate my Lil try.

A Short glance at A Starry-Eyed ;

A Teenager with messy curly long blonde hair stuck in the middle of the road wearing a Red Beret with a word written bonjour, in it. Lilac grey sweatshirt, zed black knee-length pricey overcoat with the ancient golden buttons, black coloured skinny jeans, white oversized woollen scarf wrapped around her neck & shoulder, bare bled wounded feet walking on white snow in 2-degree temperature trying to flag down a cab, they were all full. She kept walking straight towards the roadway for almost an hour reached the Riverbank.

“What a tranquil place it is”? She murmured.

She got exhausted & sat down in a corner, wanted to light a cigarette she dug into her pockets to pull out a matchbox or lighter if there any. Simultaneously a male voice came from behind her back “Smoking a Cigarette is injurious to health”. She shrugged & turned back,

“Who are you”?

“Truth or Lie”?

“Obvio, Truth”.

“A 17 yrs. ago dead”.

“Lol, don’t you think it sounds unreal ? I told you to tell me the truth, who are you?”.

“I revealed the truth only. However, I am sure you are a true human being cause you aren’t believing in my honesty. I know 99% Human believes in Fake”.

“I don’t think so. Well, what brings you here”?

“First tell me why aren’t you afraid of me? That’s quite strange to me.”

“Cause If you are not lying you are less harmful than a human being, I too wanna be dead soon”.

“Want to Die? Why?

“Cause I want to burn this beauty, it’s a curse or grace, have no clue about it.”

“Never say anything wrong about yourself, your Beauty is your honour”.

“Life isn’t easy to survive among cruel people, especially to a girl like me”.

“How you got wounded, why bled feet”?

“A long story would tell you in short, few streets goons threw glass bottles on the road cause I bruised their ego. I donated my boots to one who in need, might be they didn’t like my compassionate attitude, they even followed me for my halfway”.

“You making stories”

“It’s not my strawberry week”. She retorted rolling her eyes”.

“You sat on my grave”.

“Oh ! holy shit”.

“That’s fine, I’ve got a gift for you” He disappeared.

It’s a leaf, an Oakleaf something written on it “La Vie Est Belle, but why he gave me this”?