The Stolen Book

The Stolen Book

3 mins 9.0K 3 mins 9.0K

Each and every person has gone to school or college in their days, and everyone has lost there book some day or other.

So this story belongs to my school days, THE STOLEN BOOK: The book which had my name on it, so it’s obvious it was mine and then too someone stole it one day. Now this guy was dumb or smart IDK, but there is one thing he might have thought that I should read this book or understand it. But no matter how many times he read’s it but can’t ever understand it the way I use to understand it, because that book was mine.

Many times he just would have thought of rubbing my name off the book, or might have just rubbed it off on were first day itself. But some marks just don’t get erased so easily so in frustration he just might have torn the page off the book, And to win the battle he might have added a new pages to the book writing his own name on it showing the world it was his new book, May be he felt better doing it, But he forgot that the tip (corner) of the pages where folded as the book was already read by me.

So the tries he was actually doing to show that it was his book where nothing but waste of time because the Book was Mine.

So I had slightly torn a piece of page no. 3 & 4 when I was reading it, So when he saw it he might have torn more pages of the books to prove that it was his, But while doing this he dint knew: I still had those piece of pages 3&4 with me which I had kept as a memory with me for years now. But here I dint want to prove anything as I knew The Book Was Mine.

In the book I had kept few blank pages, a flower with lot of memory and sketch drawn in a boring lecture; after seeing all that he might have thrown all of them, so that no one can ever guess that book was mine.

One day I caught that thief and told him that this book was mine, so when I told him this he showed his name on book, some torn pages which he did it himself and he tried to prove that it was his.

I answered his saying Listen, the book is full of dust now, with torn pages all over it, if it would have been of yours you would have never left it in such bad shape, he simply turned quite after listening to me but dint agree that the Book was mine.

Today when I see you with someone else or in his arm’s hugging him tight, your love reminds me of My Stolen Book.

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