Rupsha always had the final say. No matter what Sohail wrote, she had to edit. Just had to. Sohail was a brilliant author, he could paint with words. He could tickle, provoke, incite and excite with his pen but he was too casual with construction and punctuation.. Rupsha knew that after was done with it, it was a perfect piece. She knew Sohail wrote for her, he always had, for the last 6 years she was all he wrote for... Sometimes explicitly, sometimes subtly but the objective was always a nod of approval from her. Sohail loved that look, curly hair, kohl laden eyes and that smile which meant the world to him.... Sohail wrote something today... Rupsha wasn't there to edit anymore... Rupsha saw it on Facebook.... She went through it... It had so many errors... Yet it struck the heart, just as it always did.... But she knew she couldn't correct him anymore, the mistakes were too personal... She had lost the right... Sohail still wrote... Now for himself ... He just
"The time is out of Joint, O'cursed spite , that I was born to set it right..."