“The meeting of two birds..”

Sunita thinks about him gravely, just the way he wonders about her day and night. They live far off, still the love lingers as the most satisfying source, to combine their feelings and become a gift in each morning they wake up, similarly as the darkness enters; does the composure of the land. No, they aren't twits; just because they listen to the tweets of the nightingale in the dawn; the morning sky. They are merely wishful to bloom themselves, and each other's life with meaning and truthfulness. Truthfulness that they hold for each other. The world can't question them, their feelings. For, the world stands nowhere between the two lovers. What stands alone, are the feelings in bounty and that are also ever developing.

Sumit, the boy; painted the image of his girl, as the sun gave the background to which the portrayal actually emphasized and took colour. There was something more to life, than mere work. It was the love for the work. The love that grew manifold, when her thoughts enveloped in his mind's intense. He wasn't any painter, not even a dreamer. But he had become one, because he was in love. Otherwise, he studied commerce at school. Good enough!

Sunita lived in Jaipur whereas Sumit lived in Delhi. They had met each other on an exchange programme, when Sunita's school visited Sumit's school in New Delhi. It had been a very provoking meet, yes; it opened few facets of life for both of them. They had felt the touch of love. Sumit had been a “Travel Incharge”, when he took care that everyone on the school list had boarded the bus and similarly other vehicles that took them to the various places, that the students paid a visit to. As the two month long exchange programme streamed ahead, in the summer holidays; they became friends. When Sunita told him that there were many monuments of importance and history in Jaipur from the Amber Fort to the Hawa Mahal. He pronounced his superiority about his city by telling her that there were 1376 monuments in Delhi alone. She was puzzled as she further understood what he said. Oh, really? Don't mock at my innocence, I know it can't be true. I can hardly count 10. To this Sumit replied, “Yeah! Who listens to honesty, even when we have nothing else to tell.” To this she said, “Is it? Then, okay; can you convince me, that you are no liar but actually there are the reckless numbers prevailing that you talk about them.” He answered back and they laughed simultaneously, “Madammm..Don't call them reckless, these monuments are yelling the stories of the romantic lyres that rung and still mingle in the heart of the city's tombs, buildings of importance.” Sunita corrected him. “Okay, Mr.Observer; if that is so, then let me also correct your wordings as you refer to the monuments with certain respect that they deserve. The Monuments don't yell, but tell.” “'Yell....', is such a negative word for such a description.” Then he continued with a slow tweet.. “But, who looks at the beauty today? Who cares if these still stand or not..hmm..” They fell silent, the bus moved and soon the world around them stopped into a station; where they stared into each other's eyes and after learning for what was becoming of their little friendship, they looked elsewhere. Trying to change their thoughts, to talk with others.. but what had to happen had happened.

Then, they came much closer; well, they couldn't any longer pretend that it wasn't some magic that furnaced while they watched into each other's mindscape and similarly soul. If they answered themselves back, they understood; they feared going away distant. They wanted to remain near each other, the time that moved. Now, five days were left and Sunita was leaving for Jaipur. They talked less, although the truth was in believing that it was love. Still, they were resistant to say it, albeit they wanted to. They waited.. time moved, while love embarked.

It was night, Sunita was ready to leave; sitting in the coach that was to first take the students to the Bikaner House near the India Gate, where from another Coach took them to their city, of Jaipur. But, Sumit; even after being the travel incharge, didn't appear in farsight. He wasn't seen that time, the time for bidding bye! The bus moved, she whispered to herself; “this city could give me, the calling of my life, I feel priceless; the emotion is eternal.” She had a belief that he was around her. In sometime, the coach reached the Bikaner House, and there Sumit was standing with a bouquet of flowers. This was for the young girl; this was to tell her, that he would miss her and would always wait for her..that he loved her. She felt the same. As the feeling was mutual, life rang bells and their conscience became powerful enough to exclaim that love was the only instrument to connect the dreams..the hearts!

Then, they remembered each other every passing day..they talk on the phone and about each other..they had planned that they would meet when Sumit was to visit Jaipur on the next “National school's exchange programme”. Well, the friends of the two of them sometimes did joke that, “These exchange programmers, had been impactful; and had connected hearts than mere cultural exchange.” Life was this simple, the two of them felt. They felt jealous if they got to know that they had more friends. Because, they had proposed their love for each other. Now, there was no way out that they could forget each other. “In commitments of life, we see life with more responsibilty”; they felt.. and worked towards their goals..their studies with as much love that they had for each other.