Best Julie Shayari, Status, Quotes, Stories

Haleema Ali (Hallu)

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WAAH RE QUDRAT.... TERI KALAKARI KO SALUTE... INSAAN SE ZYDA TO MERI #JULIE HAI CUTE.... LEKIN PHR BHI KOI GHAMAND NAHI AlWAYZ RHTI H MUTE... #JULIE#JULIE#JULIE....

WAAH RE QUDRAT.... TERI KALAKARI KO SALUTE... INSAAN SE ZYDA TO MERI #JULIE HAI CUTE.... LEKIN PHR BHI KOI GHAMAND NAHI AlWAYZ RHTI H MUTE... #JULIE#JULIE#JULIE....

Damini Gulati

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The blue door was still the same as I had left it, and the pet door locked. Mrs. Mendonca hadn't believed it when Julie told her that this new paint would stay for 20 years. She had laughed, and said "We'll see." Julie always said it was the door that attracted the cat to our house. Earlier when she'd sit outside, we'd feed her milk in a bowl. After a month she started coming inside and we made her a pet door. Julie called her Cinnamon, because of her coat. She lurked around the house wherever she liked and chased the pigeons outside the window. When the neighbours heard about her, they started coming over to meet her, but she dashed away the moment someone came near her. She would escape from the door but always come back at night. Until one day she didn't. Julie said that cats were sensitive. She could tell that Julie didn't have time. . As I was unlocking the door, Mrs. Mendonca came out from her house and I waved to her. She smiled and went back inside. Strange. She would always beam with happiness when she saw me. I moved my trunk inside and settled in. . Mr. Rodriguez came knocking in the afternoon, while I was making tea. He was always a stern man, hardly talked to anyone in the neighborhood. "It that your car in front of my house?" he asked me. "Yes, Mr. Rodriguez, I didn't want to disturb anyone, so I parked in my old spot." "That spot belonged to the Fonsecas, kind people they were." "It's me. David Fonseca. You forgot me so soon?" I replied with a chuckle, even though it had been a year since we left. "No you're not." He mumbled something about letting strangers into the neighborhood and walked away. Julie always said he was a strange man. She also said life would be hard after she died. I hadn't anticipated how much. . Later that day, on my way to the church I stopped by the curb and greeted Maria, the fish lady. She greeted me back and asked who I was. "Julie's husband. Julie Fonseca. Remember her. She bought crab from you every friday." "Mrs. Fonseca, I remember. Last time I heard she was sick and they took her for treatment," she replied as she kept looking at me, her eyes searching for something. "Yes, well she passed away a few months ago," this was the first time I was saying it out loud. As I turned to walk away, Mrs. Marques came over and asked Maria who I was. "He says he's Mr. Fonseca. But I don't recognise him." "Neither do I." . At the church, I went straight to Father Matthew. People had been acting strange, everyone seemed to have moved on with their lives, but Father would remember me. I saw him across the aisle and went over. He welcomed me into the church and asked my name. "Father it's me, David," I began to think this was some prank they were playing on me. "Unless the doctors who called me after the incident lied about you dying and gave you a new face, you're not David." "What incident?" I asked him, unable to make sense of anything he was saying. "At the hospital, where Julie was in, there was a fire and David refused to leave Julie's side. They both died," Father said and left to tend to someone else. . I came back, dazzled by what he had told me. I couldn't imagine any scenario in which that could be true. I called the hospital. His story checked out. They said an old woman went into cardiac arrest just as the floor below them caught fire. Doctors lost her a few minutes after. Her husband David brought out a man in his 60s, who had passed out from the smoke in the corridor and went inside to get his wife. There wasn't any pulse and the doctors called time of death, but a few minutes later, he started breathing again. I hung up and looked at myself in the mirror. The wrinkles were the same as they had been for many years, the hair at the sides of my head almost all grey. I thought maybe this was a dream and I'd wake up the next day and everything would be fine. Just as I was about to go to sleep, I heard a familiar purr on the door. It was cinnamon. I opened the door, she looked at me for a moment and then came right in, like she always did when I opened the door for her. The blue door was still the same as I had left it, and the pet door locked. Mrs. Mendonca hadn't believed it when Julie told her that this new paint would stay for 20 years. She had laughed, and said "We'll see." Julie always said it was the door that attracted the cat to our house. Earlier when she'd sit outside, we'd feed her milk in a bowl. After a month she started coming inside and we made her a pet door. Julie called her Cinnamon, because of her coat. She lurked around the house wherever s

The blue door was still the same as I had left it, and the pet door locked. Mrs. Mendonca hadn't believed it when Julie told her that this new paint would stay for 20 years. She had laughed, and said "We'll see." Julie always said it was the door that attracted the cat to our house. Earlier when she'd sit outside, we'd feed her milk in a bowl. After a month she started coming inside and we made her a pet door. Julie called her Cinnamon, because of her coat. She lurked around the house wherever she liked and chased the pigeons outside the window. When the neighbours heard about her, they started coming over to meet her, but she dashed away the moment someone came near her. She would escape from the door but always come back at night. Until one day she didn't. Julie said that cats were sensitive. She could tell that Julie didn't have time. . As I was unlocking the door, Mrs. Mendonca came out from her house and I waved to her. She smiled and went back inside. Strange. She would always beam with happiness when she saw me. I moved my trunk inside and settled in. . Mr. Rodriguez came knocking in the afternoon, while I was making tea. He was always a stern man, hardly talked to anyone in the neighborhood. "It that your car in front of my house?" he asked me. "Yes, Mr. Rodriguez, I didn't want to disturb anyone, so I parked in my old spot." "That spot belonged to the Fonsecas, kind people they were." "It's me. David Fonseca. You forgot me so soon?" I replied with a chuckle, even though it had been a year since we left. "No you're not." He mumbled something about letting strangers into the neighborhood and walked away. Julie always said he was a strange man. She also said life would be hard after she died. I hadn't anticipated how much. . Later that day, on my way to the church I stopped by the curb and greeted Maria, the fish lady. She greeted me back and asked who I was. "Julie's husband. Julie Fonseca. Remember her. She bought crab from you every friday." "Mrs. Fonseca, I remember. Last time I heard she was sick and they took her for treatment," she replied as she kept looking at me, her eyes searching for something. "Yes, well she passed away a few months ago," this was the first time I was saying it out loud. As I turned to walk away, Mrs. Marques came over and asked Maria who I was. "He says he's Mr. Fonseca. But I don't recognise him." "Neither do I." . At the church, I went straight to Father Matthew. People had been acting strange, everyone seemed to have moved on with their lives, but Father would remember me. I saw him across the aisle and went over. He welcomed me into the church and asked my name. "Father it's me, David," I began to think this was some prank they were playing on me. "Unless the doctors who called me after the incident lied about you dying and gave you a new face, you're not David." "What incident?" I asked him, unable to make sense of anything he was saying. "At the hospital, where Julie was in, there was a fire and David refused to leave Julie's side. They both died," Father said and left to tend to someone else. . I came back, dazzled by what he had told me. I couldn't imagine any scenario in which that could be true. I called the hospital. His story checked out. They said an old woman went into cardiac arrest just as the floor below them caught fire. Doctors lost her a few minutes after. Her husband David brought out a man in his 60s, who had passed out from the smoke in the corridor and went inside to get his wife. There wasn't any pulse and the doctors called time of death, but a few minutes later, he started breathing again. I hung up and looked at myself in the mirror. The wrinkles were the same as they had been for many years, the hair at the sides of my head almost all grey. I thought maybe this was a dream and I'd wake up the next day and everything would be fine. Just as I was about to go to sleep, I heard a familiar purr on the door. It was cinnamon. I opened the door, she looked at me for a moment and then came right in, like she always did when I opened the door for her. The blue door was still the same as I had left it, and the pet door locked. Mrs. Mendonca hadn't believed it when Julie told her that this new paint would stay for 20 years. She had laughed, and said "We'll see." Julie always said it was the door that attracted the cat to our house. Earlier when she'd sit outside, we'd feed her milk in a bowl. After a month she started coming inside and we made her a pet door. Julie called her Cinnamon, because of her coat. She lurked around the house wherever s