Amidst The Words
"Thoughts are plenty, words a bit less. But one thing I know, it can all be rhymed without a fuss."
"I am me, and my words are mine. Ask me to comment, I'll do. But, never ask me to rhyme."
He was a poet
Who loved to rhyme
For any poem, anywhere
He'd definitely take out time
She was the reader
Who loved a lot to read
Books were her besties forever
Her obsession, her love, her greed
Drenched in rhythms,
He'd spend all his days
If you asked him a question
A rhyme would be the answer always
Surrounded by words
She'd spend all her weeks
If you asked her to read poetry
She'd throw you off the mountain peaks
Siddharth, better known as Sidd (with the double d), was a natural writer. To him, words came as if they were his breath. Though he did speak less, his poetry always spoke volumes of his thoughts. He never needed to say anything to make people like him, the writer in him.
Riddhima, better known as Rids, was a natural reader. To her, books came and got attached as though she were a magnet. She was normally very talkative, that is if you succeeded in snatching the book from her hands. She never believed that she had what it would take to be a writer in her. Also, she has specific dislike towards poetry for reasons unknown to mankind.
What happens when this poet crosses paths with this reader?
Will he be able to make her like poetry? Will he be able to give her the push she needs? Or will it end up just the way normal girl and boy stories do?
That's for them to know and you to find out.
#41 in Short Story (25th July 2017)