"Shrishti! I
need that piece by midnight. Have to complete the design and send it for
printing" read the text from Kanan. The message lay open on Shrishti's
desk besides her laptop, serving to remind her of the impatient nature of time
and of her dear friend. Shrishti was the editor of her college newsletter, a
job she had taken for her love of the read and the written word. However her
inadequate technological knowledge would have prevented her from taking the job
if not for Kanan, who had rescued her from the many mundane technicalities of
MS Publisher. Kanan had the official designation of 'Designer and
Co-editor' for the newsletter and did
everything from deciding the layout to making orders at the printer. He however
chose not to meddle too much into the print and always had Shrishti approve the
final edit on the second last day of the month, before sending it for printing
on the very last.
Shrishti stared at
her laptop screen blankly with intermittent glances to the table clock. It was
11.15 PM already but the words were just not coming to her. She had finished a
thousand word plus article but couldn't pen down the last two sentences. The article had started off as an analysis of
the romantic plots of the nineteenth and early twentieth century classics but
soon had her grumbling about how literature had irreversibly blighted her real
romantic life. She had spent many a Valentine's Day alone with a book, or
rather in the company of her numerous beloved lovers from the delightful world
of print. She had longed to be in battle of wits with Mr Darcy who was aloof
but engaging. Darcy's honesty and quietly caring nature had defined her
definition of a man. She had envied Scarlett for having the love and affection
of a lover as ardent as Rhett Butler and hoped to be kissed often, by someone
who knows how to. She looked for the maturity and companionship of Mr
Knightley, something all boys her age lacked. How would any guy today hold a
candle to the ideas of romance that had slowly come to possess her. Her love
life was as dry as parchment with not a drop of the passionate deep blue ink.
She glanced at the
clock again, it had slowly covered a quarter of it's circle and only 30 minutes
remained till her co-editor imposed deadline. Some deep thought and
contemplation later, she finally figured what mood she wanted the article to
end in and typed in…
"Over the
centuries, countless poets and authors have been advocates for love and have
tried to portray the universal
phenomenon in an infinite number of manners. Every love story, whether truth or
tale holds it's own unique piece of love
and romance. Nevertheless, the greatest love stories exist when two very
ordinary individuals come together to create something extraordinary."
Shrishti, slightly
satisfied, went through the whole article again to look for any mistakes. She
attached the word document into the email to Kanan which she signed off as
"Love is
difficult.
Sorry for the
wait."
Still slightly
perturbed at the echoings of her lonely heart, she made herself a cup of coffee
and started going through the Flipboard travel section. She was in the middle
of a cover story into the mountain ranges of Vietnam when she got a mail from
Kanan.
"Dear Miss
Editor
Agreeing entirely
with your view that the greatest love stories exist when two ordinary people
come together to create something extraordinary , I think the two of us could
potentially make an epic love story. We could have sex on the typewriter and
create babies on print. And you have to agree with me here, nothing is more
extraordinary than words on print."
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