We were sitting at almost far end of the library so our desk was completely invisible for librarian.Urmila was looking disturbed. I asked her ‘What ...appened?’ . She told me she is so sick of her friends. I replied ‘what happened? Tell me.’ She said ‘My friends are commenting on me’. I said ‘What they commented?’ She hesistated first but then told me that they are calling her ‘Ripen mangoes’. I was so busy in reading that I have not even noticed that she was wearing white T-Shirt and dark blue. Poets talk about it. It gets couched in various cloaks: love, duty, morality. But it's never right until two people decide it's right for them. And I'm thinking this in the dim light of the sun streaming into the cabin through the portholes. I hear the sound of waves slapping the hull and the whistle of the wind on the mast and the rigging.And the breathing of this guy next to me. Sometime during the night we ended up butt to butt. That's okay as long as he's where he's supposed to be. But now. More

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