I have seen the light, the darkness, the cries, the joys, everything and I have consumed them all within these six walls, a window and a door. Be it the cruel weather or the human noise outside asking for justice, I have always listened to my masters, when it comes to shutting down everything and anything. They all walk in here like kings and Queens but outside, they obey the rules…they are part of this world…they don’t protest…they bend the knee…but in here…the masters speak louder, for us to obey and worship them, as if they are the only breathing Gods. They kept us clean and decorated because they do not want their false reputation going down the gutter.

The nights are usually calmer here and that is when I think of the glory days and rest with ease. However, one night, all these fools thought of finding a better place to live. The thought scared me. I could not sleep that night. We were all sad. The windows asked me to break the glass for them to face the heat of outside…The door said “Let them get robbed…Free us”. They were right protest but they forgot that we all were slaves. We all were only here to serve them and not be one of them. Humans have mastered the art of being “ungrateful” but are not we a part of their imagination, their need and their prestige. How can they abandon us? Each brick of this house has kept their dark secrets…the floor never hesitated when they walked on it with their dirty deeds… the door only welcomed whom they loved and cared about. Now, you want to leave us, abandon us. Bastards

The sun rose and it was time for us to fall. The masters walked in but divided. Only the Kings showed up. I chuckled a bit because that is where I thought, we were not the only slaves in this house. The Queens were too. The discussion began. The ambitious one said, “I have gathered enough wealth now. We deserve a better place to live. This house is too small for my dreams to become a reality.” The daydreamer stood up and said, “I need more emptiness to feed my luck. The power of imagination needs silence and this house only understands NOISE.” I was devastated with what they had said. The last one, the older one, and the one whom I had my hopes lunged upon, raised his hand and said, “I have lived all my life here but I don’t want to die here…Fulfill my dream and take me some place bigger than this shithole.” Ah! Older does not mean wiser.

They were gone. For that brief moment, we felt freedom. The noises of our masters burnt and the fragrance of silence rose from the ashes. However, we forgot about our nature and the masters subtly reminded us, with a sign on the door that said “FOR SALE”. Are we just a tool for your dreams? Why do you have to curse us before leaving? We were there when nobody was…We loved you despite your flaws… We nurtured your dreams and your reality. Who am I to complain? Who are we to complain? We are just bricks, cements and woods. I hope one day, someone walks through this door and says, “This is a beautiful house.”

“Darling… are you ready to see your new house?”

“I am excited.”

“Now, slowly open your eyes”

“This is beautiful”

“Isn’t it?”

“Yes! Much better than that shithole we lived in before”

The house chuckled once again and said, “Humans. Ungrateful bastards”

“Ma... Is Daddy a star now?”

“The brightest one amongst the billions”

“Will he ever fall?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m waiting for him to fall Ma, so I can make a wish”

“And what would it be?”

“To finish that bedtime story....”

“What was the story about?”

“About a father, who promised to come back…?”

With a broken heart and a stitched faith, she said...

“I know the story but it has a different ending”

“Please Ma... tell me the story... please”

“Look up.... What do you see?”


“Which one you want it to be your father...”

“Umm... the one over there....the smallest and the brightest”

“What do we do about the other stars?”

“Ask them to take a good care of daddy and never to leave him alone”

“What would happen if one day, he doesn’t shine?”

“Then I’ll chose a different one and make him my daddy”

“Will you trust him?”

“I will....”

“Will you love him?”


“What would you do if he comes back right now?”

The little one gazed. Smaller tears had bigger dreams to believe in....Her eyes already began looking for her father but he was not there...yet.

“Where is Daddy? Where is he ma?”


Her feet have had wings and her faith had a sky to fly. But when she opened the front door...

“Hello Anya”

“Uncle Alex?”

She turned around with questions in her head and heart...But in that moment she saw women with a broken heart that had finally found the last piece of the puzzle. Anya understood love that day...Anya found love that day...

“.....Anya.... child...I am so sorry....”

“Ma... There is a fallen star at our door steps. I think your wish.... sorry...our wish is granted.”

“You called me darling of tragedies and yet you are so obsessed with me”

“I thought I had lost you.”

“I was never yours to lose.”

“Please don’t say that . . . It hurts”

“It hurts because you still believe that there is a story about us that hasn’t found its beginning or end yet. There is no story, there never was. But there is one thing that will always bring me back to you---

“There is a story and I know it. It’s just a matter of time that it finds its beginning. My heart burns every time I see you with him. Every word that I imagine, every sentence that I craft  . . . it is . . . it is all about you . . . everything I believe in is about you. Why don’t you understand that I love you . . .?”

“So as I was saying . . . there is this one thing that will always bring me back to you . . .”

“Fuck! Are you even listening to me? Oh God I need to calm down . . . Alright . . . Go on . . . Say it”

“Ram, don’t let this Art inside you die. If it dies, I die with it. Your art to write is the only bridge where you can meet me, kiss me a goodbye or even die in my laps to be reborn again. When you write you are powerful, you have control over me; you can fuck me, betray me, and abandon me---

“I want us to be together. This writer needs you---

“This writer needs Art and not my existence”

“What about my existence then? Tell me . . . You have all the answers, right? . . . Come on”

“You are not being practical here Ram. . . Do you really want to destroy yourself? Don’t do this to yourself. . Nurture your talent . . . Understand it . . . Surrender yourself to it.  You have the power to express yourself through words . . . tame that monster that is inside you Ram or you will burn everything. You have to choose between Hell and Paradise.”

“I chose you . . . Why the suffering?”

“You shouldn’t have looked back into your past. I have to go Ram; he is waiting for me.”

“I have failed you. It is over.”

“No. Not yet. There is one thing that you need to know—

“What is it?”

“Just don’t let me die--

“I don’t understand—

“Let me stitch your broken heart until then. . . Tell the world about us Ram . . . They need to know that for an artist to triumph their sacrifice has to be beyond life and death . . .  And when the time comes. . .  I’ll join you in paradise.

“Stop . . . I don’t understand . . . What you are trying to say—

*Knock* *knock*

“Sir . . . The press is here . . . Sir? Are you okay?”

“I had this dream again . . . It was her again . . . Oh God” (gasps heavily)

“The press is here Sir . . . and some large number of fans as well. Should I ask them to leave?”

“No. Ask them to wait . . . Is she here?”

“I am sorry Sir but ---

“Nothing, sorry . . . you were saying--

“One more thing sir . . . A lady asked me to give you this.”

“Give it to me. I’ll come and please close the door”

“Sure sir”

The Letter

Your darling of tragedies awaits you in paradise. Open the door---

 "What the fuck . . . . "

Love has given me so much to live and to admire. Hope is where I always find and see her and for a moment, I dream…I dream about falling in love. She has wings but she doesn’t fly. I asked her ‘Why don’t you fly?’ She smiled and said ‘Come fly with me. The journey isn’t mine, it’s yours. I will help you seek the place you desire to live and die for…’

Dreams are vulnerable and they are also painful but still, we love to dream. I don’t want to be real to fall in love rather I want to be a dreamer falling in love again and again and again.

“What are you?” I asked

“I am your storyteller” she whispered.

“I haven’t written anything yet. Words aren’t falling in love with me anymore. What can be done?”

“Are you in love with me?”

“I believe in you. But I’m trying to fall in love with you”

“But you still haven’t felt for me the way I have felt for you. Tell me, does holding my hand give you enough faith to fall from the sky?”

“Yes. But what if we never touch the ground?”

“Here… hold my hand. Be the light that touches everything. Shine but don’t burn. Be a star but don’t fall.”

“What about Love?”

“What about it? Love is madness. It screams ‘Be fucking mental’… How mad are you about me?”

“Mad enough to believe in us.”

“If a poet comes looking for me someday and takes me away from you…what would you do?”

“I’ll kill him”

“What if I kill you first?”

“Why would you do that to me? You love me not the poet”

“Love is an art that needs expression. You aren’t expressive. The words you craft don’t make fall in love with you…On the other hand, the poet has spent most of his life penning down poetms about my eyes only. What have you done?”

“I . . .”

“Love can wait but I won’t. Show me the mountains and the valleys. Take me to the moon and the stars and show me the entire universe. Are you willing to do that?”

“What if I fail again?”

“What if…I start loving you again? I can show you the light in darkness but it is up to you to decide, whether to shine or hide yourself in the arms of darkness. So tell me… What is it you want to become…Art or an Artist?”


And here I was standing on the edge of the cliff…again…waiting for her to come and push me down the valley.

“Here take my hand…Toss me up or throw me down, I promise…I will fly.”

“We have an hour until everyone wakes up. . . I wish I could pause this moment. I don't know when I’ll see you again,and that hurts me every time . . .”

“Here hold my hand . . .Do you feel any good ?”

“I feel calm . . Can I ask you something ?” 

“Of course you can . . .” 

“What are we ? Why is it every time I see you, I feel complete . . . I feel I found something that belongs to me . . Something that I always wished for  . . . What are we ?” 

“We are a moment. . .A moment that doesn't happen every day and every night . . . We are an example of life being Beautiful and Magical.” 

“Why cant we always be together ?” she asked  

“. . . I don’t know. . . I wish I had the answer. But someday there wont be any boundaries, we will have our time and our moments  . . .” 

“We are a moment . . .Well said” she blushes 

“I want to rest on your lap and see a dream about us” 

“Aren't you already living a dream ?” 

“I think I’m…”  

A man speaks a thousand words but fails to express one thing that was true in his heart, I fear that man, I fear of being him. We are part of the crowd and we cant be separated, we have to live with them, breathe with them but one thing we can change, is STOP thinking like them. These two individuals could be anyone, their relationship can be defined by what your mind makes of it . . . I see them as siblings… Their story wasn't planned, it just happened… Love exists in many forms, yes it can happen to anyone but every Love story is crafted by you, nurtured by you and even killed by you. 

The man falls in Love to a women quite younger to him, there wasn't any state of confusion or him being in a dilemma but there was something really odd about it, something that moved inside him, something that made him realise that when you complete a circle of life, you go back in time and start again with the same story but with added characters. 

Something inside him whispered “I think I found her”, he knew this wasn't something routine, how can he fall in Love with a women and think of her as a part of him but life is strange, it throws every raw moment at you, its upto you to decide what you want to do with it… He chose to craft the moment and see that who is better at taking banters, him or his Life. 

“What you want to dream about ?” she asked  

“Of being together… Live a dream where I can see you, feel your presence and drop a tear as gift to the God” 

“Are we happy because we aren't together ? Will things change if I see you everyday ? Should we intervene with the story that God wrote about us ?”
“How do I describe magic to you ? As an art of making people fool and still them being happy ? Or as an escape route from reality ? Mind is a powerful tool to change things around you, we are happy because we always wait for another moment to come into our lives but being together might open doors to our best kept secrets, darker may be…Its us who decide how much of a other person we want inside us, we can let them in and lose them forever or let them in because they belong here.” 

“What is that line we are walking on… How much can we trust each other ?” she asked 

“We are walking on a line where very few dare to walk, I have your hand in my hand and if sneeze loudly to cover my mouth, one of us wont be there” he said

“How do I explain things to this world ?” she wondered 

“Do you owe an explanation to them ?” 

“I do . . . I think I do ?” 

“Do you love me ?” 

“More and more everyday” 

“Do you trust me ?” 

“More than I trust myself” 

“What is it you see in the eyes of people, when they see us together” 

“I fear looking them . . . But I shouldn't be afraid …right ?” 

“Let us stand in front of this mirror… Tell me what is it you see” he said…

The man had to see the other side of him, he had to explain her things and make her realise, life isn't about what we are or who we are… its about what we choose to become

“I see hope” she said  

He then gently kissed her on her forehead and asked 

“What do you see now ?” 

“I see Love” 

He took her in his arms and asked  

“How do you feel?” 

“I feel warmth… I feel safe”

He whispered in her ear something that brought tears in her eyes  . . . The man wasn't afraid of showing her who he was… The man was letting her in to see what colour his heart is made of. . .

“Are you afraid being my sister ? Because I’m not afraid of being your brother” 

She looked at him in the eye and asked 

“Are we living a dream ?” 

“We are breathing one” 

“What happens next ?” 

“WE tell the world, the precious relationship of siblings still exists . . . Doesn't matter what colour their blood is of and what race they long… There is always a part of you wandering here and there looking for you and very few lucky ones find them… We are lucky” 

“I love you . . . Brother”

“I love you too… Sister”

"I did carve something on this bench year’s back but I don’t exactly remember what and someone has already rubbed it with a stone…  do you remember?"

"Yes . . .  of course, I do"

"Of course . . .You treasure everything inside you. ."

a "Well, somethings are just meant to stay with you... Forever"

"True . . .  How long it has been since that day?"

"If I can only count . . . You sure you don’t want to know about it?"

"About what?"

"What you'd carved years back"

"What difference it would make? You still remember, that means you are still on that same road I chose to quit… please let it go, you still have a future to live for"

"Not really. . . If you still have some chapters open, over the course of time they would scream . . scream may be for forgiveness or may be for one last chance"

"You still haven’t changed. ."

"For the world Yes I've but for my past I haven’t . . . not even a bit"

"What else do you remember?  . . . About us"

"Why are you coming back to the road you chose to quit? I haven’t changed but you have... so be that. ."

"Alright. So . . . How is Shruti?"

" . . . . . . . . . . . . "

"Aakash . . .  How is Shruti? You haven’t left her alone right ?"

"She doesn’t live here anymore . . ."

"Why? Where is she?"

" Nothing . . . Just like you... She chose a different road"

"Is she okay?"

"Yes . . . she's fine... she's happy"

"Glad to know . . . I still remember you guys fighting for no reason . . .it was fun . . . Ah! such a lovely little sister you have . . ."


"So . . .  Where is she ?


"Aakash ?"

"She is dead”
How much has Love changed? How much have we changed? Sitting in a corner with my dead beliefs, I've realized that the pain lives inside me, happiness is born out of pain, it is always there, just like a trustworthy companion who never leaves your side . . . Death? Reincarnation? Happiness? I've been misled by destiny to understand what they are and why they are . . . a part of me is dead... that part of me is in peace. I have no one's hand to hold, the only hand I had was kept crossed on a chest with closed eyes. . .in peace. . in hope . . . or to live one more time.


"Pleas smile . . .I don’t want to close my eyes seeing you crying . . .Aakash. . . You always said 'If you want to sleep in peace, look in the mirror and smile or just see the person you love the most . . smiling ' . . I love you . . please smile"

"Shruti . . . Please don’t go . . "

"Aakash . . . When you go home, I've kept a letter under your desk . . . You need to give it to someone . . .someone we both shared a life with"

" I love you. . .."

" . . . .. . . . . . . ."

"She asked me to give this to you... This letter. ."

" . . . . . . . . . . . . "


"How can she do that to me? Aakash . . .(shouts) How can she do that to me?"

" . . . . The Letter . . . "

"All these years . . . you . . . you didn’t even bother telling me . . Aakash . . .She's dead . . .oh god .  .  .  why Aakash why?"

"We both waited for you . . .you never came back, until this morning. The Letter, Shruti"

"I'm sorry Aakash . . . (cries) I'm sorry . . .forgive me . . ."

"A part of me is still Alive . . .A part of Shurti is still alive . . . You complete us . . .Open the letter Shruti. . . please"

"Has she forgiven me?"

"Yes . . ."

"I don’t want to open it . . .I feel ashamed of myself Aakash..  I can't"

“It was her dying wish. She trusted you more than anyone. Shruti, when you don’t see the person you love the most around you, either you feel lonely or wait for them to come. She chose to wait but it was too long for her, I don’t know what is there in that letter but I know that there are last few breaths of my sister inside it…  free her … please”

The Letter

My beliefs are scattered in this Universe and time isn’t helping me finding them… My brother drops a tear every time he sees me I can feel it, he is scared, he isn’t happy, he is not what he used to be. Silence is killing him. I’m helpless.. My eyes are dry they have nothing more to offer to express my emotions, they are already dead before I am. Shruti, life doesn’t teach us everything, sometimes we need to learn things on our own. We Rise and we Fall. We live so that we can make a difference but we make it so complex that even living becomes our sole enemy. Though Aakash has given me this book to read haha… He says ‘Before the end, let’s just be happy’ I laughed, my brother still has what’s left after you disappeared. Disappeared is a strong word but we are weak, strength isn’t our Ally. I don’t know why you left us, I don’t want to know what went wrong but Shruti, life takes us forward and we sail accordingly but sometimes we need to look back once and see ‘Are they still there? The ones who walked by you, the ones who still love you.
After every word written, my hope takes a bullet in the head, dying like a soldier, still not giving up… That’s how we always wished to die after seeing  those 70’s war movies through your eyes night and day, my wish seems to be granted haha. Shruti, where are you? Come back... Our bench outside is home to pigeons and crows, it belongs us. Come back…please.



“Is this how it all ends ?”

“Aakash . . .What have I done? I killed her… Didn’t I? I didn’t even look back once to see if everything was okay… My crazy ambitions, selfishness they killed her. Why didn’t you stopped me Aakash.”

“You didn’t killed her… Her eyes did . . .”

“Does that make me Evil Aakash? What choice did I had?”

“Were they bigger than us? What choices we had after you left us? Death? Wait? We promised to be with each other, you knew she was weak, I was weak.’

“ . . . . . She gave me everything and I just turned my back on her”

“Shruti, you could see your dreams because my sister wanted you to see it. She was happy to be blind, she gave you her eyes so that she could see what you always wanted to see. Her Darkness was your Light…”

“What happens now Aakash ? Please take me to the cemetery…please”

“It is right beneath you…”

“HAHA… Fool I am. I took her eyes but not her smartness. Grant her wish ‘WE LIVE TOGTHER & DIE IN THE SAME GRAVE’…”