Angad Kripa: Angel Eyes

When Angad Khanna first sees Kripa Sharma, he never suspects that she is different, that she is blind. This is a story of differences, overcoming obstacles, rebuilding relationships, loss and above all; finding love.

Tell me if you guys like the concept.

Part 1

I raked my hands through my hair, pulling at the ends before dragging them down over my eyes, rubbing them roughly. Maybe if I rubbed my eyes hard enough, I'd finally be able to see the importance of all of this information. This shit was going to be the death of me. Organic Chemistry had not been my friend this semester. Why I'd ever thought it was a good idea to follow in my father's footsteps and become a doctor was beyond me. Oh wait – he pretty much forced me too.

'Now Angad, you don't go to a school, like the University of Michigan, and not study medicine, especially when your father is the lead cardiologist at the hospital.' I could practically hear his arrogant, and all knowing, voice in my head.

I was lucky he'd let me take a few music classes as electives. I think the only reason I even got away with it was because he felt it made me more 'cultured,' and my college experience more 'well rounded.' Plus, my parents spent so much money on piano and guitar lessons when I was a child they didn't want it all to go to waste. Needless to say, I definitely enjoyed my music classes a hell of a lot more than my biology and chemistry ones. Those classes made me want to pull my hair out. In fact, on more then one occasion, I have. I'm surprised I wasn't bald.

I sighed and looked down at my phone. It was 9 am. I had already been at the campus twenty-four hour Starbucks for an hour and a half, and felt like I'd made zero headway on this review for my final coming up in two weeks. Two weeks and I was home-f**kin-free! It would be summer time. I told my father that I would volunteer at the hospital because he said it looked good for my med-school applications, which I would be filling out in the fall – although it's not like I was allowed to apply anywhere else. U of M would be the school I would be going to. I wouldn't even need to do well on the MCAT to get in. My father, Rishab would probably just bribe the school. He already donated a shit ton of money and might as well have a fricken wing of the hospital named after him. I was a shoe-in, so that left me most of the summer to sleep in, play my music, and get drunk with my fraternity brothers.

However, until then, it was going to be a lot of studying for finals. Dad would kill me if my GPA fell below a 3.8. I groaned inwardly. It was time for a double-shot of espresso.

I slowly made my way over to stand in line at the register. There were only two people ahead of me. The first one ordered quickly. The second one stood there contemplating between extra-non-fat-soy-latte and an extra-non-fat-mocha-chai-whatever.

Seriously, what was the f**king difference?

I groaned as I tilted my head towards the ceiling and rolled my eyes.

Seriously lady, just make a damn choice.

I was on the verge of ripping my hair right out of my skull when I heard a very melodic laugh. It sounded like wind chimes and butterflies.

Wind chimes and butterflies? What the f**k, Khanna? When did you become such a fairy?

I slowly turned around to face the direction of the angel-laugh. I had never heard such a beautiful sound in all of my twenty-two years of life. Immediately my eyes focused on a table to my left.