Friday, 14 March 2014

A photographer in love

Priya was an exceptional photographer. She had an amazing talent of capturing moments. She didn’t captured just faces but feelings. Every photograph of her clearly shouted the state of mind of the person. The silence of the painful and the joy of the laughter. She had many admirers but one was her personal favourite.

Raj was his name. A tall, dark guy with broad features and a double chin. He was not just a fan, a friend but her love. She felt immense pleasure clicking him. He would make faces and do weird stuff to let her experiment with him. He had a lot of friends still managed to spend time with her.

The only thing she hated was if she had to click him with a girl. Everytime a girl used to get closer to him it would burn her from inside. Every moment he placed his hand on a girl’s shoulder she had to face the agony of hitting the girl right on the face. She would let them take as little time possible and click the pictures within seconds. When he would praise the pictures her mood would brighten up. He had a weird sense of praising her. He would pour his feelings and grammar while praising her.  It would even make the writers steal his way of praising a skill. His almost every picture contained her name as the picture credits.

She had often thought of proposing him but never dared. He was always surrounded by the bunch of pretty girls trying hard to lure his attention to them. She knew she was beautiful but lacked attitude to compete with those dumb Barbie dolls.

Like every other night she was going through his photographs. She cried. She cried her heart out. It was just her pillow who felt the pain and got wet shedding the tears.  The moon was shining bright but was unable to erode the darkness.

Every picture of his had her name written in bold letters but none contained her in the frame.


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