70 was the number on his bike and she wondered if he would take her for a ride. She had beautiful black eyes and he was brown-eyed. In a messy bun, her hair was tied. His hair was red and wild.
Days passed and he kept admiring her bubbly laughter and she noticed the 70 number on his bike and his wild red hair. They exchanged a glance at each other. This happened almost every day. Sometimes he would look at her and express through his eyes “You look pretty today.” She would smile and play with her hair.
The only way they communicated was through eyes and smiles. Whenever they met their friends would get into friendly banter.
The guy at the tea shop also knew them.
Then one fine day when they were at the tea shop and cutting chai with the aroma of ginger served, “Opps so hot he said” She looked at him and smiled, and then he said, “I am talking about the tea.” ‘I know’, she replied. They laughed. Just then someone hit his bike and all the other numbers and letters fell only 70 stayed. She said I know how to fix this. “How he asked “
She smiled and said I can paint it for you. He said, “Seriously?” yeah she replied and now they have a house painted with the number 70. A ghar (house) made of pathar (stones) and 70 number.
Love and gratititude
(c)Mukkupens
Mukkupens 
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