Short story : Love just happens

If I truly loved someone it was Samay.  The only person who could get me to smile even when I was angry with him. We had been together for almost 4 years now and through thick and thin and together we were thinking of starting our whole new world. ‘Nina weds Samay’ was the only thing on my mind these days, we already had talked to our parents about us and he had no objections. Little did I know God had something else planned for us. We were not even finished imagining this new world of our and it got snatched away from us in an accident.

Samay’s death left a huge void in my life which was slowly taking me towards a dark and depression filled road with endless night of feeling loneliness and despair. I would cry myself to sleep every night and I was slowly losing the beauty which Samay us to talk about.
Depression had taken over me and the clouds did not seem to fade and eventually I found myself addicted to this sadness. Days, weeks, months were all the same with only thing to do was find a way to numb the pain. My friends had already given up hope and slowly I was a recluse with only my thoughts to give me company.

My parents were the only one who still hasn’t given up hope; they forced me to at least go out of the house once a day and also invited my friends over. I didn’t feel like meeting anyone so I started visiting this nearby library. I started going there just to please my parents but slowly I found myself sitting there for hours with those magical words of those authors and poets and those imaginary world gave me which the real world was not able to offer. These pages and this library was my safe haven and slowly my addictiveness towards sorrow was occupied with beautiful words from an enslaving novel.

One day I picked up this particular novel of this young author and even though his words were not polished as the veterans of this field but I still found finishing up his first work and asking the librarian for any other work of his. I found his second work and it was even better than the first as if his words were speaking to my soul. His work seemed more experienced this time and there was a flow of words which just captured my imagination. I checked and the two books were the only literary work he has done till now and I found myself in distress when I found that there were only 50 more pages to go.

The next day eager to fall back in the world or words I picked up the book again with an uneasy feeling knowing I am about to end this journey, I started to read again. I looked up and saw a young man staring at me, at first I didn’t mind it but when I looked back there he was sitting there just staring at me. I wasn’t able to concentrate on the book and which was getting me agitated. In this flustered state I was not able to capture the essence of the words written. I changed my seat and after I got settled I looked up and there he was with his obnoxious stare but now added a gleaming smile. His hindrance was too much to bear as I went back home cursing him for not letting me finish the book.

The next day I arrived a little earlier so I don’t have any more interference.  I looked through the shelves but was not able to find my novel, so I went to the librarian to check where it is. To my great dismay the book I wanted was issued by someone else. I picked up another book, another world to dive into, yet I felt incomplete. It was like an incomplete love affair and I longed for those last 50 pages. I wondered what could have happened in those pages when I was suddenly interrupted, “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare at people” there he was sitting and smiling in front of me, the reason for my disillusionment. I was so lost in my thought that I didn’t see who was sitting across the table. “You were the one staring at me yesterday” I said and I think he could hear the scorn in my voice and yet he gently replied with-“oh so you noticed”.
“Yes I admit of my misdeeds but I was trying to understand the reader of this awful book” he had my book in his hand and as if he couldn’t be more irritating, he was insulting the world the author created for me. I got up and started towards the door and he started to follow, I turned and told him that I wasn’t interested and he shouldn’t follow me.

“You look thirsty and there is a great coffee place nearby, maybe you could make me fall in love with these words”, he spoke as if my words didn’t affect him at all, his confidence made my insults bounce of him. “Listen I would return this book today only and the price is just one coffee” he replied. My thirst to know the end overpowered my judgment and I found myself sitting with a coffee mug in my hand and across me sat the author of the book I loved.

It was after a long time I was able to enjoy someone’s company and I found myself drawing towards his endearing nature. We started meeting on a daily basis and he always seem joyous and talked freely. In the little time I knew him, he made me comfortable with him that I felt I knew him for a long time. Even though I wasn’t sure about my feelings my answer came out yes when he expressed his love and appreciation for me. Somehow my heart had already taken a decision. I wasn’t looking for love but I found that feeling again in my heart for that special writer who took me out of the grips of sadness into the new world of happiness.
I thought I would never love again and along with Samay died my love but somehow this writer found a way to reach the lonely heart whose only desire was to love again.

I have to admit I still haven’t been able to finish those 50 pages till now.

This was a short story about “can love happen twice” hope you liked it. This was Arjuun Sahay aka Writer Spider Thanks for reading.


  1. Thanks alot arjuun,
    Seriously am so so so happy :):):):):)
    U wrote this though u r nt well....
    Superrrrrr lykkkk

    1. A Writer is nothing without his happy readers and elated I shall keep them.

    2. How r u now?

    3. Feeling a little better :)

    4. Dats grt .....

  2. who said pyaar sirf ek baar hota hai....
    good .....

  3. Bhaut baar ho sakta hai. But it's not always love when we think it is


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