One dull day, looking through his bag.............

Browsing through the bag that he took to work, one dull day, just for want of something to do, she came across a little diary. Gently looking through the pages, she saw that little cursive handwriting, marks...his sister's marks, scribbled on the page and he had manually totalled it and calculated the percentage, he didnt even trust a calcuator for the job...how he must be loving his dear own sis...

Looking further, she found a huge cover, and drew out of it , a simple photograph...in it was he and his friend...his one true friend who had to go to some place, far away..far far away.....and he had gone to one of those studios and posed wiht his friend ..for memories' sake and it was very much in his bag...

Further still on, she found some bunch of papers, unfolding it, she saw a familiar handwriting...her own...and memories came back...she had given it to him, a good year back...her first attemot at writing something for him....he never said anything about it, he had just taken it...but he had guarded it and carried it around for that good year.......

and loads of visiting cards, strangers ..who he must have changed to friends.......an old book, his attempt at improving his literary skills to match hers....

And she thought that he was selfish and never cared about anyone, non-sentimental and so on and so on..........................
She just realised , she couldn't have been more wrong in her judgement!