No Policy In Love-Part-1-Twenty rupees in English Love Stories by Nithyashree V books and stories PDF | No Policy In Love-Part 1-Twenty rupees

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No Policy In Love-Part 1-Twenty rupees

Love is so blind that it just happens unexpectedly.
You may fall for anyone!
Would you let go of your policy if you fell for someone you shouldn't? What would you choose-your policy or your beloved?

It was the last Sunday of July. 

I, Naomi Dixit, a pinkish tall girl waited alone at the Lohegaon bus stand.

This is the point where love struck my mundane life!

That morning, I, in my grey T-shirt with yellow floral patterns on it and inserted into white jeans, was holding my yellow kit bag having small black-colored ellipses on it. I, the twenty-year-old girl, faced a hard time balancing my heavy luggage in my left hand along with my pink hand-bag on my right shoulder; yet the cool morning breeze tickled my fair dimples and the rhythm of my heart remained normal for it had only throbbed for the entire last year. 

I sighed deeply and looked around. Cars and bikes, although fewer than usual, dominated the well-constructed roads; a bus or two I could spot far, far away. I smiled, adjusting my loosely left smooth black hair which fell on both sides in the front and extended till my hips.

It still felt incredible to digest that I was back in Pune, my native, where I was born, where I studied right from kinder garden and elementary classes to high school and pre-university. The experience substantiated the most popular saying,” Apna shehar Apna Hota hai”, meaning that your city is always your city. The happier I grew, my hair too danced along; it wanted to feel free just like me. To be frank, I didn’t want the bus to arrive at all for this joy was unbeatable. Neither did I attempt to tie my hair like a disciplined school girl.

Bus No.4B-the government bus painted in light green, decorated on either side with advertisement banners of a new reality show, arrived. "Wow! This show seems interesting. Music competitions are the best. Songs are the best medicines to cure one's stress. They are the purpose of your ears!", thought I, clicking a picture of the show, on my mobile. I smiled after saving the pic carefully in my Gallery. 

I was about to step inside through the back door of the bus, that the elderly woman, getting down on the other side of the handle, was on the verge of fainting. Before she could hit her forehead and roll down the metallic steps, I caught her by her waist just on time.

I couldn’t balance my kit bag anymore. I turned my head here and there, with my thin, long, and black ear drops oscillating along.

All of a sudden, I felt a cozy palm on my left palm holding my hand as well as my luggage's handle. I looked at the hand and followed it.

He seemed to be in his late 20s. He was lean and tall-taller than me. His trimmed beard and mustache glittered with the incidence of the brisk and bright morning beam on his golden face. He, in a white shirt with vertical black stripes on it and navy-blue formal pants, smiled at me, looking into my eyes which were spellbound spotting myself deep inside his pupils. His eyes had a tinch of light brown and were the central spot of attraction; his meek eyes wished to help me, I felt. For the first time, I was damn attracted to a guy.

He smiled, offering, “I will help you carry it”, in his hesitant voice sounding like a good high schoolboy but he seemed somewhat elder. I nodded at once and let him take my burden away. He walked towards the mid-seat of the bus.

Meanwhile, the conductor and a few other men from the back seats hurried toward us. The bus carried many passengers but wasn’t full though. I walked the half-unconscious lady inside. The conductor splashed water, from a local Bisleri bottle, on her face. Once she woke up, he made her drink all the water left in the small bottle. The bus was halted all this while.

She nodded at me and the conductor. Her eyes seemed to shut again anytime. “Arey! Board her in auto and come. She still sounds weak”, ordered the driver, from his seat way in the front. The conductor gently walked her and left towards the exit.

I put my luggage on my lap and sat, leaning back and looking out through the big and airy window with two black bars in the center. The guy who just helped me sat next to me. The bus too resumed.

” Thank you!”, acknowledged I, smiling at him.

“Anytime!”, he said, smiling, in return.

“So sweet of you that you saved her precious life.”, praised he. 

I smiled, “Aww! I just did what a good person should do” and turned back towards the window. 

He patted my shoulder; I felt like the flow of electrons triggering an electric current to enter my body-what a manly touch! I looked back only to realize that my hair kept flying and beating his face. My dimples narrowed very much. I shrank my eyes, tied a bun, and raised my eyebrows. He nodded, smiling back and nodding.

“How did you understand that I needed a helping hand back then?”, asked I, curiously. He wore a wide sarcastic smile and sighed, “Similar to how you understood now what to do regarding your hair!”, he described. We said, in chorus, “Common sense!” and laughed our hearts out.

The conductor arrived, asking me about my destination.

Fursungi”, said I.

“Twenty rupees”, said he, typing something on his ticket generator handheld. When I took my mobile out and asked him if I could pay through Google Pay, he threw his mouth open and refused. He was reluctant despite me insisting further for I had absolutely zero cash in my hands.

He concluded, “Madam, I don’t know Google Pay, Yahoo pay, and all. Don’t ruin my mood right away in the morning. If you can only use technologies for even minute payments, you should have hailed a cab, not this local bus…”

“I love traveling. Looking outside and exploring the city, even for the umpteenth time, is the most thrilling experience. One cannot feel it in cars”, explained I.

“Arey ladki! I don’t know anything…Either pay cash or I will stop the bus”, he threatened.

My new friend took out the fare from his wallet and paid at once. I was shocked. “Huh! Good that your boyfriend saved you”, the conductor commented and left. "No, we just met!", argued we, again, in chorus, all in vain, for the conductor had already left to the back seats.

I shrugged at my companion, opposing, “Thank you but why did you have to pay for me?”

He diverted, “You are right. I drive my car every day. True relaxation is traveling by bus-this fun is nothing in front of riding a car. Sometimes, I feel lonely driving alone. I feel lost too!”, shared he. We smiled again and did a hi-fi. Our exciting eyes smiled at each other. He then got up.

“But wait, your money?”, asked I, as he walked towards the steps.

“Not a big deal at all! It’s just a twenty!”, reassured he, in his amiable gentlemanly voice.

“No way!”, exclaimed I, elaborating, “Money is money. Big or small, it comes only from the hard work you do round the clock. I owe you a twenty and can’t live with this guilt forever…”

The bus stopped. He got down and waved at me, shouting out, “Take it as a memory!!!” and chuckling until my bus resumed.

My guilt grew with the bus racing forward and leaving the sweet stranger behind. I was reluctant to give up very easily. I opened the Happn app on my smartphone, but couldn’t find his photo there as well; neither did I know his name to connect with him on social media. I bet my own forehead and closed my eyes.

Will Naomi meet the stranger again? What's in store for a relationship starting with guilt?

Dear readers,
Thank you for reading the first episode of my new series: "No Policy In Love". Rate it and write your review, give it a heart and share it in your circle whenever you are free. Your voice matters a lot to me. Do catch up with all my series and I'm sure it will make your day!