Story-Time.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hello 🙂 Again, it’s been long since I last uploaded ( I don’t know, even a  day without uploading seems pretty darn ‘long’ to me 😛 ) Anyway, I’m writing a post that is dedicated to a dear friend of mine and one which I had published earlier, however, it got deleted somehow. So, here it is again! Thanks for reading and comments are always appreciated. x


Hi, there. Come, sit down. It’s your female, Kimaya! Right now, I am going to tell you a story. But it’s going to be a bit different. I’m going to give you only the words that constitute broken phrases that are so grammatically wrong that you would probably frown upon them. There won’t be any mention of the emotions I felt, not the tears I cried, not the smiles I smiled. Just words, that you are going to weave up in a story you think is appropriate. Don’t worry, I’ll give you the reason of my doing so at the end! So stick with me, here we go-

2 boys. 1 girl. Boys, the best of friends. 1 girl, the thorn in their friendship. Girl fell for both, hard. Best friends fell for her, too. But, only 1 told the girl how he felt about her. Other, silent. Girl couldn’t decide between both. Finally, went for The Boy Who Declared (Eek, one small interruption. If you were reminded of Harry Potter when you read ‘The One Who Declared’, I love you. Potterhead forever, bro! :D) Did so not because she liked The Boy Who Declared more, but because she didn’t know how the other one felt about her. Meaning, girl liked the Silent Boy more. But continued with the other one. Almost a year passed. Girl couldn’t take it. Was still confused. Received mixed signals from Silent Boy. Told Silent Boy how she felt. Silent Boy told her he has loved her since forever. Girl understood what she had to do. Told Boy 1 that she didn’t like him anymore. Lied. Left him. Now, girl finally happy with Boy 2. 

THE END.

End of the story, I mean, if you can even call it one. Now, for the reason I did so.

You see, it wouldn’t have mattered if I told you this story as it really happened; as a real story. Because even though our emotions, while telling a story, ring the truth, the listener is always going to go with the moral he derives from it. Yours doesn’t matter in the end. It never does, darling.

In this way, there are two morals you can deduce from this little anecdote-

Moral 1: The girl was a hypocrite, an unpleasant young ‘un (read: bitch), a girl who can’t control her impulse to get all the boys (read: slut) and that she was undeserving of them both.

Moral 2: The girl’s condition was pitiful, being in a love triangle and the worst kind, too; with two best friends. She did go through a lot and did break a heart, but that was all she could do. Because that was what was right. Rather than faking love for Boy 1, she went righteously with Boy 2, setting the former free. She deserves Boy 2’s love.

And now my moral to you, for all your stories that you are going to tell is (eating my words quite a bit, aren’t I?) –

“Always, always believe in your own ‘moral of the story’. Never let others’ notions distort your belief in anything.”

-Kimaya Ingale.

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