(From an old diary)

Its eight months since we bade each other goodbye
Which was the hardest thing to say
But now I feel nothing have really changed since you left
Its the same sun, that wakes me up in the morning
I still run late for my college
Its the same samosa and tea I wake up to
This year I am the president of the dramatic society
I still bite my lips when I am tensed
I go to library everyday, and discuss ideas
In winter, smokes of fog still curl up when we talk
As usual I miss bathing at times
I go to my classes regularly
Meet the same people
Still run to the Principal’s office
I still chat on the internet
Have made a good friend on the net too
Which you laugh so much at
So nothing actually changed from the day you left
Its just that I have stopped smiling
And sleeping at nights

P.S. – if only memories did not whistle mournfull strains…