During weekdays, I didn’t know her. Even if I have known her
during weekends, during weekdays I hardly recognized her: a weak emaciated girl
running after college bus, a girl with only research work in her mind, a girl
who never acknowledges my presence even during the lunch or loo breaks, a girl
who just called me back to thrash me for calling her so many times and the girl
who talked ideas. During weekends, she was a zero figure model, hugged more
often, drank booze like German Shepard drinks water in summer, crashed one
party after another, and rosy lipped, she joked about her fucked-up life, her
anal-retentiveness and called herself a ‘certified’ bitch in booze smell.
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