Khushi’s shoulders slumped as she let her fingers grudgingly let go of the mehendi green chikan-kari salwar kameez that was her favorite special occasion attire. She turned around, one hand still holding the squeaking grey, only partially rusted metal almirah open. “What?” She exclaimed in resigned exasperation. “It is my favorite.” She pouted uncharacteristically. “And yours by your own admission.” She pointed out to her sister who was looking at her as if she was reaching out for poisoned ivy.

“It is when you need to look neat and tidy and professional. Like….no I can’t think of an occasion. But definitely not when you are scheduled to sing utterly awesome Bollywood numbers on a stage with the rest of IE-V looking on.”

Khushi had a mind to say something her mother would immediately classify as argumentative. Futility, however, was always a great demotivator. So she sighed and turned around to pick out a canary yellow churidaar-kurta only to have her sister erupt into a loud NO! again.

“I don’t like spending this much time on clothes, Tripti. Can you let this go? I am not dressing up for Miss. IE-V, you know.”

“Miss IE-V is a sad concept.” The younger girl pointed out dully, one eye still fixed squarely on the clothes arranged rather neatly in the almirah. “And you better gear up because you have less than an hour to get to the venue and we have hair and make-up to go.” Tripti warned, wagging her index finger at her sister.

“Absolutely not. I put my foot down on make-up. I am not…”

Tripti put her fingers in her ears and closed her eyes. “So we agree on the clothes and hair.” She hollered louder than Khushi.

This was a war she was going to lose, Khushi knew. Why was she even bothering? Her shoulders slumped again as she stuck her tongue out at her sister.

“If you had taken a minute to think before hyperventilating, you would realize that make up in this house means kajal which you will apply anyway.”

A small smile threatened to crack Khushi’s pursed lips open. She hid it, however, for no reason except that she needed to contain Tripti’s enthusiasm before she ended up looking like she stepped off the tacky, glossy pages of a family wedding album which usually tetered somewhere on the narrow ledge between loud and garish.

“What about the navy salwar kameez that you had stitched for Manish bhaiyya’s wedding last year?”

Khushi narrowed her brows. “I am not attending a wedding, Trip.”

“That was hardly wedding-ish. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the argument with Ma about that already?”

She hadn’t. It had been a battle of wills – one that Khushi had eventually won but not before her usually somberly dressed mother’s unbelievably garish choices in wedding attire – for Tripti and her only, left her gob-smacked and permanently scarred.

“I haven’t forgotten but…”

Tripti shook her head, scrambled over from her side of the bed to Khushi’s and pushed her aside rather brusquely. “Hey,” Khushi began only to be cut off by Tripti’s discovery of the dress in question.

As Tripti held the navy blue salwar kameez with a thin ice-cream pink border and a lightly sequined, sheer ice-cream pink dupatta, Khushi found herself smiling. It was definitely her most priced wardrobe possession – one of the few “pretty” things she owned and felt good about. However, for precisely those reasons, she didn’t want to wear this for Aarohan. She wasn’t looking to technically make a good impression there, was she? Or feel pretty.

No, she wasn’t she told herself loudly.


She quelled the little truant voice from within that threatened to expose the deepest recesses of her unofficial longings. “Not this one. Really, Trip. Too elaborate for a…”

“Have you seen pictures of Aarohan evenings? Girls wear the most glamorous things you can expect on engineering campuses. I saw some pictures on the IE-V website. And you have enough stage time. I cannot allow you to go looking like a behenji – which this salwar-kameez just saves you from being by a very small margin anyway. Bas bol diya.”

Khushi couldn’t help grinning at Tripti’s rising crescendo of a voice. She gave her little sister a quick hug and pulled the hanger from Tripti’s hands to put the clothes back in the almirah.

“Di. Please listen to me this once na. What is this stubborness? It’s not like I am asking you to wear low-waist jeans and a chamkeela crop top.”

“Haha. Not in this life even if I wanted to.” Khushi retorted wryly, hugging her full-figured body.

“We’ll dissect that comment later. Abhi time nahi hai.”

Khushi sighed. “This is too …well-fitted…err….and the neck is too…”

Uff…Firstly you should be happy that you have a body that can have clothes fitted to it. Everything I wear looks like it’s been thrown carelessly on a clothes-hanger.”

Khushi held her hand up. “We are not arguing about being on the extremes of the weighing scale. Let’s just accept that neither is much fun.”

Tripti chuckled at that. “True. We are a couple of sad girls with body image issues. But that doesn’t mean we cannot dress up when the chance presents itself.”

“Body image issues? Too many Hollywood high school chickflicks, I think Krishna Tripti. Or wait you aren’t reading stuff like Cosmo or something right?”

“I have no clue what Cosmo is.” Tripti shrugged though Khushi didn’t quite believe her. “But I am serious. You should wear this,” She said as she extracted the navy salwar kameez and thrust it into Khushi’s hands. “And then I will fix your hair. Priyanka showed me a cool style to straighten hair using a steam iron and a towel.”

Khushi’s eyes widened. “No way. I know I am not a fan of my jhaadu-wale baal but I definitely prefer this to being bald.”

“Very funny.” Tripti rolled her eyes. “Ab jao – change. You have a little less than forty five minutes to be at the venue. And you still have hyperventilating about singing in front of an audience to take care of.”

Khushi slapped her sister’s cheek lightly only to earn a not-so-light thump on her back before she accepted the dress her sister was holding. Now, if only her heart slowed down a bit on the anticipation she couldn’t seem to control.


She had made a mistake. She shouldn’t have let Tripti force her into wearing what she was. It clinged to her body too much. The neckline was lower than usual and though Tripti assured her that it was more modest than the occasion mandated, she remained jittery. Surely gazes were trained on her for longer than usual. And that was saying something, wasn’t it? It made her more nervous than she already was. She toyed with her sling bag, tempted to pull her hair back into a pony like she usually did. How could she have been lured by her sister’s praise and let her hair loose? Sisters were meant to praise, to compliment and and be nice, after all. She pushed an errant lock behind her ears and her glasses up the bridge of her nose and breathed in deeply. She had, at the very least, won the glasses versus contact lenses fight with Tripti. It was definitely the time to celebrate small mercies.


Someone she recognized but couldn’t remember for the life of her, thrust a small booklet in her hand. It was the Aarohan programme schedule. She clutched it tight and walked through the building crowd.  The event was scheduled to start in about thirty minutes but students were gathering outside the auditorium already. It was the time of evening when sunlight turned orange and evening cast shadows on everything it touched. The area just outside the auditorium, on normal days a large well-manicured garden with flowers blooming in every corner, had been turned into a motley collection of “stalls” which ranged from MBA and M.S. entrance test coaching centers trying to lure students with their early bird offers to stalls by leading beverage manufacturers who were currently running happy hours with free drinks for everyone who stopped by. Needless to say the crowd was distributed in favor of the latter.

Ignoring whispered references to “that first year mech girl” and the chaos that only seemed to spread as if in a secret salute to the second law of thermodynamics, Khushi hurried towards the “green room” where all the participants were expected to assemble.

To say that she wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted her, would have been an understatement. Not only was the room a classic example of what would constitute a nice mix between cacophony and pandemonium, it also proved that her fifteen year old younger sister was definitely more in-tune with the way things worked than she could ever be. Everywhere she looked, she saw glitter and glamour. The women sparkled and the men looked like they had accepted a secret challenge to not be bested by the other gender. Sure, they didn’t look like they belonged to the pages of a fashion magazine. A bad early 90s college movie, maybe. It was still enough to leave her stunned for words. Eyes were lined with mascara, hair gelled for men and flying for women, lips were painted and shirts glimmered in the warm lighting. Ha, she thought to herself. The stares she had assumed were probably people amazed at how under-dressed she was. It was enough to make her smile and let her bunched muscles relax. Now she only pre-program nerves to deal with.

“Kavi, you are here!”

Khushi turned around to see Arjun sauntering over towards her. He looked handsome enough to make her smile. Sporting a crisp white shirt with navy denims and sneakers, his hair gelled only lightly and swept back from his face, he looked fresh and ready for the evening. She had to admit that Tripti did have a point. “You look nice!” She said softly as he neared her, surprised with herself. She had always believed that she was one of those who didn’t do casual but genuine compliments well.

Arjun grinned boyishly and took a bow. “So do you!”

She dismissed it instantly and instinctively as always. He was just being polite, of course. Nevertheless, she smiled at him. “This looks like everything is in order. All on time.” She said sarcastically, a minute later as she waved her hand around.

“What’s a college event without chaos?” He quipped. “I love this!”

Khushi shook her head and looked around her in wonder. Loving chaos was an artform she would never truly master.

And then her brain, in true tribute to being Kaveri Khushi Gupta’s, jumped to a not-so-irrelevant little topic, forcing her to acknowledge that she wasn’t a mere observer. And that he had eventually made his way to her thoughts after all. Where was he?

“Did you take a look at the program?” Arjun asked, “You go after…”

She looked down at the small booklet she was holding and opened it more as a attempt to push thoughts of a certain someone away.

“Haan, you go after Rohan and Farha for Pyaar Hua…. I think that is right in the middle of the program. Then we have Iss Deewane…towards the end of the program. And then finally of course, there is AV-Sir’s session. But that would be only after nine.”

Khushi took a deep breath. “How did I end up agreeing to singing so much?” She whispered to herself before she tucked her stomach in and reminded herself that this was the final day for all things related to singing and to the person she was refusing to think about. Tomorrow would be a new day. Sure, she would miss….No! She couldn’t think about that.

“I have to run now.”

She frowned, suddenly uncomfortable with the idea of being alone in this crowd without her anchor – which Arjun had easily become. “I thought you were the pre-program coordinator. Shouldn’t the logistics and operations volunteers take over now?”

Arjun shrugged and smirked in that very familiar Arjun-way. “What can I say? They can’t seem to do without me!”

Khushi rolled her eyes and then watched as Arjun bade her farewell and hurried away. She looked around her and sighed. She felt truly alone and it wasn’t a pleasant thought. It was if anything a scary thought. It had been nearly three months since she had first walked into IE-V as a student and she had exactly one friend.

And one huge crush!

Shaking that thought out of her mind, she gathered her dupatta and walked in the direction of the stage which adjoined the green room.


The program started thirty minutes later with as much noise as could be expected. Even an auditorium that had a seating capacity upwards of a thousand was jam-packed. The initial ten minutes remained somber with the Director of Engineering addressing the first years with what was a truly short and completely boring little speech. However, he was evidently familiar with the fact that none of the students really wanted anything serious that evening. By the time the comperes for the evening made an appearance amidst wolf whistling and loud applause, the Director and the few Professors who had accompanied him, had disappeared.

Khushi had found a spot in the wings where she could stand and watch the evening unfold even as other singers found their little corners around her. She had tried to look for any signs of her parents but wasn’t surprised to not see them. Her father, as much as he enjoyed music, was too grave to indulge in open frivolity. “Hmph! It’s just an excuse for silliness. Plus I don’t want to listen to people murdering perfectly good songs.” He had retorted with an ungainly snort when Tripti had asked him about his attendance. Her mother had mentioned dropping by but Khushi knew she wouldn’t be surprised if Gayatri Gupta chose to not attend the event just as her husband had.

The rising volume of claps announced the real beginning of the program as the first singer – a Electrical Engineering girl came forward with her rendition of Madhuri-Dixit’s famous mathematical dance superhit – with dialogues and everything. To say that she had the audience dancing in joy was an understatement. Khushi found herself smiling and cheering the unknown co-singer with everyone else that surrounded her. In that moment, the loneliness from just moments ago was forgotten as she realized that she was indeed part of a little community and a group of people who despite being very different from her, would always remember this evening with fondness.

It was ten songs of multiple genres later that Khushi first allowed herself to look for him actively. She might have lasted longer if it had not been Nishant Kumar Pathak’s cameo with Teri Deewani that reminded of the time when she had listened to Nishant’s Sir near perfect rendition of the popular Sufiana-style song and marveled at its perfect recreation of how she felt for the one with two names who had been siting beside her at the time.

 She couldn’t deny, at least to herself, that she had expected to run into him or at least see him in every place that she had been in since she had first arrived at the venue. And though she had been sure multiple times of being watched, she really wasn’t. The floppy head of hair, eyes that shone with unparalleled brilliance, that strap of a wooden guitar that clung to his chest, long legs encased in fitted denims…

Stop it! She admonished herself even as she craned her neck to see if he was on the other side of the stage. Or maybe he was in the audience? He didn’t technically need to be with the performers till the after event was scheduled to start.

Yes, that was it. She would see him when she stepped on to the stage. Rather she would not see him because like most evening programs the fact that the audience section was darkened meant that the performer on stage would see nothing but silhouettes.

She would know if it was his silhouette, of course. And then?

She was either going to fumble…Or she was going to sing better than she ever had? Heartbreak or not, he was her inspiration. She couldn’t deny it. She had been a childish idiot because of one stupid dream and an even more inappropriate reaction to it. And he was clearly too grown up to indulge a child throwing a tantrum. He didn’t owe her that. No one did. And she didn’t expect it. Yet, it still bothered her that it was barely hours to go before their final few moments together and he was nowhere to be seen. Just days before that dream which had ruined her sanity, she had been wondering if he would show up to wish her luck before she went on stage the actual day of the event. Here she was today, searching and failing rather miserably.

Yep, she only had herself to blame.

“Kaveri, you are up after Rohan and Priyanka. They go after Nishant-Sir.”

She stumbled without moving and clenched her palms together as nerves returned with a vengeance. Arjun wasn’t around either. She really was going to sing in front of strange motley collection of students and there was no one to even wish her luck.

“Stop, stop, stop” She muttered under her breath, straightening her back. She adjusted her dupatta again and took a deep breath. There was a silver lining if she wanted to see it. She would see him in the audience, wasn’t she? He had to be there! And then when it was time for her to sing with him, she would be her pleasant, friendly version. Not the prickly snob that she might have been perceived as in the last few interactions. It was no one else’s problem that she didn’t know what to do with herself and her wayward feelings.

Things were going to change.


They didn’t. He was nowhere to be seen. Even as she fought nerves that always made her jittery in the initial moments she spent in front of a large group, even as she breathed in the music and sang with all her heart, her eyes had searched frantically. Her estimate was correct. She couldn’t see the audience composition as clearly as she would have liked but she had spotted Tripti and her friends in the far left. Arjun, surprisingly enough, had been standing right next to Tripti. . But there hadn’t even been a hint of that familiar profile amidst the crowds.

The song had been received well. No one hooted when she was singing. People clapped enthusiastically when she finished. It may not have been the best performance for the evening but it had been a good one. When she walked back from stage into the wings, she had been welcomed with smiles and compliments. Arjun met her soon after and heartily thumped her back for having “smashed it”. And yet none of it was able to put her spirits back to where they belonged. Why the hell did Arnav Varun have a habit of vanishing whenever she was most looking forward to seeing him?

River Song, Music and Lyrics

Song Title: Tum Ho Toh

Album: Rock On !!

Singers: Farhan Akhtar

Music: Shankar, Ehsaan, Loy

Lyrics: Javed Akhtar


Tum ho toh, gaata hai dil

Tum nahi, toh geet kahan

Tum ho toh, hai sab haasil

Tum nahi, toh kya hai yahan

Tum ho toh hai, sapnon ke jaisa haseen

Ek samaa

Jo tum ho toh, toh lagta hai

Ki mil gayi har khushi

Jo tum na ho, toh lagta hai

Har khushi mein hai kamee

Tumko hai maangti

Yeh zindagii



Note: Chapter Fifteen has 4 parts. This was Part 1. Please bear with me!

Next update will be delayed – maybe 10-15 days from now. I see an avalanche headed my way and I am not even wearing a snow-suit! <deep breath!>

144 thoughts on “Chapter Fifteen A: Day of Reckoning

  1. I am finally here, after what more than a year? And royally missing an amazing story. Felt like reading my biography. I could definitely relate to KKG, at least, with respect to ‘body image issues’. Tell me how self preservation makes one look arrogant. After conquering my inferiority complex through a marriage, love that followed and a child, now I look back and remember all those moments when I have driven away the opposite gender nipping an attraction in the bud only to save myself from a broken heart and humiliation, I wonder how many of them may have had genuine attraction towards me, how many of them saw the real me through the pounds of extra flesh. Arnav is still not revealed much, but I like the way the story is being narrated here. True, not everybody has the privilege of knowing how exactly did we affect the person who affected us in more than one way. However right from “Let her sit” to the whatever-he-was-thinking kiss, from asking not the best-singer to accompany him for the after event to the vanishing act, there are hints too many for the mutual attraction, however when has the cynical mind ever given the freedom to revel in the glory of a possibility of being loved. Have you surpassed yourself with this piece, Meera? Yes, yes and that is an unquestionable YES.

    Liked by 7 people

  2. I am very happy you resumed this story… Is AV really missing or is he watching from a shadowy corner. I hope you will give us his PoV before moving onto the next leg of this journey.
    Love the lyrics of song… you have some beautiful gems in your repertoire ;)
    Looking forward to the next :)

    P.S. Hope you pulled through safely from the avalanche headed your way ;)

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This is a story i am eagerly awaiting… Khushi’s insecurities, her desperate attempts to stay away from AV sir feel so real.. I guess every woman who doesn’t have a terrific body image would have gone thru the same, what with her AV sir being the most popular, most sought after guy in college. Kudos to you for making Khushi so vulnerable, apt for her age.
    I am always refreshing this page to see if you have posted an update. Please update soon


  4. Hi dear I’m here after so long n read all chapters in one go n you really wrote college life so well that i felt nostalgic while reading it i hope arnav is fine n here in auditorium watching her performance.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Read your note on IF and you will not believe how happy I am. I am attached to this story and no matter how may jumps, rocks, turns came up in the course of River. I will always be waiting at the bank. 😊

    Liked by 1 person

  6. This Khushi is just so relatable! Having to ‘dress up’ for something is quite a rare occasion and while you’re tugging here and there at what you’re wearing, thinking you’re way overdressed, turns out its actually quite the opposite! No AV-sir and no Arjun right before she sings at the stage sounds scary and this feels like the beginning of a momentous night, so waiting eagerly for the next one (hopefully with AV’s reappearance)!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. You are a fabulous writer.. hope you do realize that. you have such talent.. you seem to become an 18 year old in a story and a 30 year old in another.. how you manage to get in their heads is no clue.. guess that is what is called talent.. love you for your creations..

    Liked by 1 person

  8. A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves – a special kind of double.
    – Toni Morrison

    Rewinding to all the glimpses of sisterhood that we saw, I feel these lines befit the relationship that Khushi and Tripti share.

    The dilemma of choosing a dress for an event, so as to not end up overdressed specially when there is an idea of the glamour that will surround you as part of a fest, yet ensuring to avoid slipping into the category of an underdressed unnoticeable being, finding the middle ground between these two is very relatable. I see where Khushi’s coming from. And not having a perfect figure ( according to Khushi ) certainly adds to the problem no ?

    I reiterate, what would have Khushi done without Tripti ? She’s even considerate to leave enough time for Khushi to hyperventilate before her performance. Sisters – they know you only too well.

    Tripti’s also highly in-tune with the happenings at fests like Aarohan and even the daily non-academic activities at IE-V. I bet if she walked into the campus on a regular day, no one would even suspect that she isn’t an IE-Vite, yet.

    Khushi handled herself pretty well in spite of the initial nervousness and without seeking welcomed distractions from Arjun or small words of encouragement from Arnav. Growing up are you Khushi ?

    Even as she searched for AV – Sir’s silhouette in the crowd, Khushi noticed Arjun standing next to Tripti. Now, where’s a snippet of the conversation that happened there ? Or was it chori chori chupke chupke ?

    I’m glad Khushi’s decided to stop behaving irrationally.
    Things are definitely going to change. And I do hope for the better.

    Now only if the object of her thought materialises. Arnav Varun seems to have mastered the vanishing act. If only he knew ki Khushi ko Nigahein milane ko jee chahta hain.

    Excellent writing as always Meera ! :)

    Liked by 1 person

  9. WHERE is he???
    I know she did it all by herself… But i feel so sad for her.
    You have such a way with words.. I can totally get what Khushi is going through.
    Well the big event is here. Ab aage dekte hai hota hai kya ..

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Sisters are all same…giving instructions to older ones…i mean they are younger to us but always acts older in giving suggestions…finally the dress issue was solved…khushi gave into her sister’s advice…
    Now where is he actually i am also searching him…is that intentional…

    Liked by 1 person

  11. So D-day is here. The day we were all waiting for so long. You can’t help but feel as if it is going to be huge. There is this undercurrent that says, yes baby, there are going to be fireworks. Hahahha, :p I mean I for one know that so many college love stories begin coz of these college fests.

    I need a Tripti. That forces me to dress up, give pains to make me look my best and make sure that I am at my top of things. Tripti is a force to be reckoned with. Our champion.

    ““True. We are a couple of sad girls with body image issues. But that doesn’t mean we cannot dress up when the chance presents itself.” The struggles of never looking right. Why?

    “straighten hair using a steam iron and a towel.” Eeeehhhh, I remember those days. But, the one thing that I can proudly flaunt is my hair, so I didn’t need this often. But, back when I had long hair, aahh. Savior. See, Meera, you insert this random piece of nostalgia and end up making us fall for this story bit by bit. Minuscule and random tidbits, just make this story more than just a love story. It makes it more lively. Like reading a personal journal. These small flashbacks of our lives.

    “It was definitely the time to celebrate small mercies.” “The women sparkled, and the men looked like they had accepted a secret challenge to not be bested by the other gender. Sure, they didn’t look like they belonged to the pages of a fashion magazine. A bad early 90s college movie, maybe.” These small fragments. This subtle humour. This is why I love your writing Meera. Not many authors are able to accomplish this feat. Kudos to you, like always. Not many writers make use of the setting, the environment and if they do they are unable to integrate it properly. However, these small bits add another dimension to the story-telling. I am no way an author or a reviewer, but I am a reader. So, even though I can’t talk about other readers, I can say on my behalf, they style in which you write, is the one I love the most. Never lose sight of these seemingly insignificant details. They make your story magical. Cant think of a better word.

    “You look nice!” Lol. No wonder, poor Arjun was smitten. Coming from Kavi of all people. Not that it is Kavi’s fault. But, when the heart desires someone, any words of praise seem to mean more. Become the indicator of something more.

    “the one with two names” :P

    ” The floppy head of hair, eyes that shone with unparalleled brilliance, that strap of a wooden guitar that clung to his chest, long legs encased in fitted denims… ” It is like a dream college guy coming alive. So cliche but still wanted.

    “she had been wondering if he would show up to wish her luck before she went on stage the actual day of the event. ” :) That pure, sweet, innocent love.

    Liked by 2 people

  12. Hi Meera,


    So all excited for this big night… starting with sisters … dressing up & all tripti’suggestions.. she is smart girl & knows her sister well & convinces her too… her comments, observations & encouragements is blessing for khushi..
    And dear khushi is all nervous & last moment freaking out is so natural..good at least Arjun came & they talked… arnav missing & the way khushi realises he is still her inspiration was penned down beautifully…
    Khush’s dad one liner was funny as to why he can’t attend such functions..😊
    New song for me from rockon.. will listen to it..
    Just love the whole college atmosphere..

    PS: ironing & wet hair.. use to do that.. haha…


    Liked by 1 person

  13. Tripti is too matured for her age. I know I am repeating it. But she has managed to get her way and styled her Di to her liking. Not much though. Back to the auditorium, Khushi is really in a mess. When Arnav was near her she wanted him to leave her alone. When he left her alone she wants him some where near by.
    By the way, where is Mr perfect? He can’t do Houdini act. His time to go on the stage is fast approaching and he is still a no show. I hope he won’t show up with a girlfriend in tow.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Did I get it wrong?
        I read the next chapter. But I am not sure whether I posted my comment or not. He did not show up with a girl friend but after an enthralling performance, to douse her happiness Khushi found out that his parents gave blessings to his relationship with his girl friend.
        Bechara! wanted to say something to Khushi about that matter (I yet to find out) while walking her home and Arjun foiled all the plans and he ended up escorting Khushi to her home as per AV Sir’s strict instructions.

        Liked by 3 people

  14. The perils of dressing up , even while claiming not to like it, feeling on top of the world when someone / anyone comments , typical college kid, Kaveri
    Was Arjun expecting much more than nice from khushi?
    Did he meet & chat Tripti
    Hope they get together after many years ( now she is practically a baby – don’t want Arjun in trouble )Where is AV sir ?

    Liked by 1 person

Say something?

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s