One afternoon I saw Pooja going somewhere with support stick I went near to her asked where she going she replied that she was going for NGO they was offering money to blind and physically challenged person I requested her to sit on bike and said I will drop if she didnt mine.She just gave a cute smile and I helped her to sit on bike and we went for NGOs…there she filled some forms and gave photos..and we were coming to home..in the mid way she had asked whether she was not so much good looking or attractive. Giving a complement to her I replied that she was most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She laughed at that instance. She again asked that why no one had married to her till now or no one even proposed her till. I was just giving her words of trust and said its their bad who was not marrying you. Then thought lets make that special for her..so asked whether she was free to spent some good time with me. She nodded to yes then I just turned the bike and we went in decent Hotel to. The orange clunks as it hits the back of the pocket before dropping in, and the white rolls to the head circle of the table, coquettish and playful. She walks around to the break position, takes careful aim, all trace of violence gone. Like a piston, her hand draws back, and pushes forward, making contact with the white again. The white ball rolls softly, pushing across the featureless green plain of the table, intent on its target. In what seems like slow-motion, it kisses the green ball. The white loses power, and as it rolls to a stop about three inches from the black ball, the green travels delicately, almost nonchalantly, into the corner pocket, the soft click of it hitting the other balls, already casualties to her skill, the only announcement of success. She doesn’t blink. The white sits on a line with the black, but isn’t straight to the pocket. It’s an angled shot, needing an edge and a master’s touch – too much force will push the ball off line, and too little will deny.
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