Dong, Dong, Dong….the grandfather clock in the living room gongs to alert the serene surroundings that it’s 3 a.m. Nandika thrusts the spec on her nose bridge and stops her pen which was continuously running on her diary page until now. She has eventually finished the last chapter of her upcoming novel, “The Secret Cinderella.” Now, only some editing and proofreading are left which her publishers will be doing in the upcoming weeks. It is expected that the novel will be ready to publish and come in the book stoles by the middle of next month. Nandika reclines her relaxed head on the bedrest. Hello. You all know me as a writer. But today I am going to tell you the story of another writer. Nandika Murthy. She is an average-looking girl of 20 yrs. Dusky, short height with a big frame of glasses on her small pointed nose. Since her childhood, she has been a bookworm, a scholar, and the topper of her school and college. She doesn’t know anything beyond her coursebook, except her passion for writing fiction novels. Almost every book of hers has become the best seller in the last 3 years. However, being an extremely introvert she doesn’t want people to know her as their favourite writer. That’s why she uses her pen name ‘Nutty M’. She finds it cool and contemporary unlike her. ‘Nutty M’ is sassy, jazzy and crazy exactly the opposite of Nandika Murthy. Nandika is an introvert, nerd, bibliophile and loner while Nutty M is hot, scintillating, beautiful and an exuberant party animal. Her every novel is a piece of the vibrant and bohemian lives of today’s youth. Needless to say, most of her readers and fans are buoyant youth. Every day she gets a thousand emails of appreciation. She gets zillion comments on her Twitter and Instagram accounts. Some of them even try to flirt with her. Some become more romantic to propose for marriage. Nutty M always writes one line and sends it to all.

“Glad that you liked me but I am a tough nutshell. Not easy to crack because I am half heaven and half hell….ha…ha….All the best.”

Some get disappointed and some become more curious and persistent. But in both cases, they can never ignore her letters on her book pages. She has that aura. Nutty M writes about their unsaid emotions, their hidden desire and their wished uncontrollable lifestyle. The same thing that Nandika Murthy misses in her boring drab life. Her books are the mirror of her wild thoughts. Her pen is the magic wand which she misses in her real world. Nutty M is her alter ego, her facade in which she finds her peace. Nandika yawns and lies down after switching off the bed lamp. She is about to switch off her mobile when her Instagram gets a message notification. She unmindfully opens the app.

“Hi…can you be my agony aunt?”

She reads the message. Her eyes fell on the bottom part of the screen. ‘Lost Boy wants to send you a message.’ ‘AGONY AUNT!’…Her brows furrow and her lips curve in amusement. Before her brain can think anything further her impulsive fingertip taps the accept button in a reflex action. With curiosity, she taps on his profile pic. It’s a DP of Shinchan. Nandika becomes amused. She starts reading his Bio. It is written like this:-

“I had my patience tested. I’m negative.”
“You like me or hate me…but I never stop running in your mind.”
A 23-year-old boy who loves his guitar, Rock music and wanderlust.
Wish me on 30th August.
Last but not the least; don’t be so quick to judge me. After all, you only see what I choose to show you.

The last line brings a nonchalant grin on Nandika’s lips.

“An interesting person with a devil-may-care attitude and a ruminant mind.”

She mumbles and types,

“Hi, for that I have to know your agony first. Are you ready?”

After a brief reluctance, she presses the send button but before it turns seen, she switches off her mobile. An unknown feeling churns her stomach. Nandika slips down to lie. Nestling more in her comforter she closes her drooping eyes. She has to attend an early morning class; so, needs at least 4 hours of sleep. She sinks into a deep slumber.

..........................

In his morning drowse, Maan flips to his right side and tries to cuddle the bolster. However, his hand lands on the guitar kept on the side and the jingle of the chords makes him startle in his doze. Last night he was playing the guitar for a long time and he didn’t even realise when his eyes shut. Maan slowly unfurls his eyes and pendiculates. Groping to the left side of his pillow he finds his mobile.

“Oh, shit…it’s 9:30. I have my practical class at 10 am. Shit, shit, shit…I am late.”

Mumbling some curse, he springs out from his bed and rushes to the bathroom. After having a quick shower, he gets ready in a hurricane speed. Kabir must be waiting for him and he doesn’t have the patience to bear Kabir’s morning lectures regarding his insomnia. He has better things to do…like getting fun out of juniors’ leg-pulling. Maan grabs his bike’s key and bails out while whistling. Within 20 minutes he stops his two-wheeler in front of the college. With a sigh, he looks at its gigantic structure.

“Another meaningless day. I wish some exciting things happen today.”

With a silent wish, he stands the bike and is about to head to the college entrance. In the blink of an eye, a strong collision occurs. Before he can realise anything, he falls on the ground on his back and a tiny frame comes straight and lands on his chest. Maan feels a soft touch on his lips. He unfurls his eyes but only can see a curtain of silky soft tresses around his face. Within a second, he comprehends that the frame which is pressing him to the ground is nothing but a girl and her lips are locked to his. They are kissing….Really? By accident but it is his first kiss.