Bihar Diaries Novels & Stories

Zaniya put her paratha on the plate in front of her and took the bowl to the side. "Yes Mom, exactly…..all these are wired. Look at the face of your daughter. In these two days, how dull she had become. I can guess this very well how much she had cheated in her diet in my absence." Sikandar Shah said, dropping a cold glare at Biya. Biya finds it better to not look up at him from her plate as she starts taking the morsel of paratha. ********* How was the chapter? Hope you enjoyed reading it.

Carmen never used to like diary books and thought that they were stupid, reminding you of the reality you want to escape from. Tears fell down her cheeks as she was reading it. 'As you are reading this, you perhaps already know that I left or I am on my way to the airport now. My plane flies at 10 pm. I don't honestly know where I am going and why. But always remember that I'll forever support you. We'll talk daily, please don't cry. I miss you already. Happy birthday again.' As she finished, a sound of a car was heard. Carmen rushed to her bedroom's window and stared outside. It was Liam!

I then closed the diary, put my children to bed, and joined my husband beneath the covers. When my husband got on top of me, he said, "Your body is Soo warm." Ultimately, we had sex all night long. My life has been knowing happiness in my husband's house. I thought everything will be like this forever, not knowing it was marking another saga ahead. A saga I wasn't prepared for. A SAGA THAT INVOLVES THE SECRETS IN MY DIARY.

My first memoir in a new diary. My old diary was filled with stories and stories of girls I've fucked and turned but after this incident that happened on 23/4/2027 I had to start a new diary. So... I was angry that mum was remarrying. I really hate the thought that she couldn't keep her pussy at check after dad's death and jumped into another man's arms. However, she kept reassuring me that it's going to be fine but I hate it as hell.

Episode 49 – The Confessional Diary The attic smelled of dust and forgotten things. Ophelia’s fingers traced the spine of a leather-bound journal, its surface cool and smooth, tucked away in a cedar chest that had belonged to her grandmother. She hadn’t been looking for secrets; she’d been looking for old photo albums. But the moment she lifted the diary’s cover and saw the elegant, looping script, her own script, from years ago, a peculiar heat bloomed in her chest.

, Shreya said. "Let's go", Paavak said. Paavak, Vir, Shreya and Kirush Bhai left for Brindhavan Mansion. Whereas Eshwar, Dhara and Swagatika stayed with me. I tried opening dad's diary. First I tried my DOB, it got failed. But that was the password. Maybe dad changed it. I tried Dhara and Kirush Bhai's DOB that also got failed. I tried mom and dad's anniversary date, that also got failed.

I gave a half smile as I kept aside three CD plates having images and soundtracks of Brian. When I fondled further into the cupboard I could find a sizable diary, which had Brian’s name scribbled on it. Upon seeing the diary, I was puzzled and took it out “Welcome To My… Little Secret…” I read the first note on the dairy, and raised a brow when I flipped through pages to realize the uncountable secret he had written down. I am Scribbling down these little secrets in explicit sentences;

Here, in this enormous expanse of this hills-clad, sparkling, buzzing, largest metropolis of North-East India, here in this eternal City of Eastern Lights, Nisim, Ma and I were just three of the millions of dark dots in the crowd. From the terrace, as I watched the tangerine sun go down behind the Saraniya Hills, I remembered the quote on the first page of Deuta’s black leather-bound diary: Every sunset brings a promise of a new dawn – Ralph Waldo Emerson I looked at the Bihu Field. It was lit up with effulgent Halogen bulbs. There were people working through the evening to prep it up for Bihu. I thought to myself that they would perhaps work through the night. The next morning was the first

Hi peekaboo diary. So happy that I changed the old Diary that seems to be filled with only bad memories. But I promise you, that I'm filling you with hot and steamy memories. So let's just recap about my life. I'm Rumi. I married my high school boyfriend and have two beautiful children. However, my marriage turned into divorce because of that asshole. I spent nearly 20 years with the same man, faithful, and loyal. On the eve of Christmas eve, in the northeast winters, my friend Sara and I met up at a local restaurant bar to grab some drinks and catch up on all the happenings in our lives.

She shouldn’t be here. I don’t feel like eating much. I take out the diary and I know it’s the only thing that can get my mood right. I keep the slip of paper with the Haridwar address inside the diary. I clasp it and my heart is thumping loudly enough to be heard by people around me. I read the name on the slip again—Piyush Makhija, the best friend from school—and wonder what he would say about the dead guy. How would he react?