Mother’s Love. 

It’s more of a protective shield she casts on us, it’s there even if when she isn’t around making sure no evil can penetrate that shield of love and compassion.


 A/N- This is a very small tribute to all the mothers around the world traveling through lives of three mothers of the magical world. Hogwarts has portrayed several characters each of them having a life-long impact on all our lives. So this a little something for the Mother’s Love.

An invisible feeling which you can’t resist describing as beautiful, lest talk about the irony!

It’s something which was there when we were inside them, month after month and yet after all these years when we have reached our adulthood it still remains the same.
It’s more of a protective shield she casts on us, it’s there even when she isn’t around making sure no evil can penetrate that shield of love and compassion.


This kind of love is universal, be it a red head pureblood or a blonde one. She knows what we need, she knows what we are going through, she helps us getting over tough situations, she offers a meal when no one around cares, she saves us even if we are the nemesis because she knows the side she supports is wrong, is bad, is evil.

And no mother will ever want a child, even if it’s not her own blood, to suffer a death, death will fear.


Even if he isn’t able to make it through, there is Mother’s love in heaven too.

One mother reciprocates the gesture of another by taking her twin into her arms and treating, caring and showering love in all possible ways just to ensure he feels like the Burrow, it’s not much but it’s HOME.


~ Smaranika Dash

The Reflection in a shattered Mirror

It’s not about love yet it’s all about love. When it comes to us it’s all about loving someone.

The clock on the wall created the background sound of suspense and thrill as Siddharth studied the email again and again. The expressions on his face changed from confusion to surprise then from surprise to acceptance n then to a forbidden look of disgust. 
As Nitansha sat there trying to read every  line of tension and every wrinkles that guaranteed his anger, She felt panicked . like someone has unearthed the burried skeletons of her past. The past which she had left behind her . The Past which she thought would never come up . She dared asking Siddharth What’s the matter !! 
Siddharth took  printout of some documents. Threw them on the table and asked her to start packing. 

She took the print out and started reading. It was an Email from Kaira. She didn’t want to read the letter any further. She wanted to rush to Siddharth. She wanted to curl into a hole and stay there. 
Now she did not know whether to laugh or to cry.  She took a look at the other papers. They were the print out of tickets to her hometown . The town where she had taken birth and brought up. The city was the witness of the mischievous deeds of her  childhood, the awesome creativity​ of her teenage years. Yearnings of adulthood ,heart breaks , fake smiles , suppressed sobs, those late night sneak outs, those early morning jogs, Late in the afternoon laughter and Early​ evening strums of guitar . 
She walked like a zombi . Packed everything n got ready for Siddharth to come n pick her up.

In the mean while her mind drifted to the day of her first night with Siddharth. He had said they should be friends first , then best friends and then Husband wife. He was mature enough to know the complications, misunderstanding of arranged marriage. He knew they had to melt the wall of  ice between them with the heat of truth . He had started the conversation with light mood then taking it to a seriousness of how to please which member of his family. like His Mom would expect her to be at the puja place by 7 in a saree. N his father would want her to arrange his news paper, Cup of tea with little sugar n Tulsi be ready for him in the garden when he returns from the morning walk by 6. His sister would love to have a bhabi who would open her curtains n wake her up before the college time n chose her dress according to the trend. He even didn’t miss the Gardner Raghav chacha and the cook Mohan Chacha . He said they wouldn’t tolerate each other n always kept the household busy in their playful banter. If looked from an outsider’s view they had a snake n mangoose relationship. But only the house members knew their day didn’t end without sharing their all day story over dinner. He mentioned His mother’s love for Banarasi sarees, Guava n her addiction with the kitchen . He reminded her not to put Brinjal in any of his father’s dishes n how much he loved to sit and eat with his family n his obsession with old family photos. Coming back to his sister he only had to say spend time with her, help her in her studies and makeup she would be wagging around like a puppy  within days . 

 When she had asked any special mention about him. He had said one thing. “Tell me everything that’s true or not ,but keep me well informed  about the whole story and your role.  and never ever try n keep something hidden from me”. Then he had smiled and said it’s better to lay open all your cards. I should know at least what I’m dealing with. She had managed to draw a faint smiled to hide her fear .  He was like a mind reader. He sensed her discomfort. To ease it out he had hold her hand and drawn smooth circles around it. 

In a calm and soothing voice he had said. I’m not a perfect Man Nitansha! n I know it. It would take sometime to know each other completely. But most importantly trust should be there . From this day onwards I promise to trust you with all my heart and want you to do the same. 
Then he started “well u know in the past, I used to like a girl. We were in a relationship. we both loved each other. But love was not enough. She had a different definition of love and mine was not complimentary to hers. we did not complete each other and our equations didn’t get balanced. We got separated. I used to see her every day in the college n every day was a torture”. Pain reflected in his eyes. Nitansha could read all those unspoken words , She could see all the unshed tears starting to melt down the glacier n she could sense a Part of Siddharth leaving him , leaving him for good . She could see him breaking into pieces. Her heart ached to collect those pieces and reform it something of her own. He continued “after a few days I stopped going college to avoid her. She got to know about it. One day she came to my doorstep . Papa asked me to meet her somewhere outside . We went to our Riverside spot. There she lectured me about How she was not the perfect one for me. Enlightened her faults Highlighted my Bests. But it’s not easy , U know. It’s not easy to watch your dream house getting shattered and to sit there without being able to do something. Even when your own engineer starts pointing about your fault. Even though u know u have done your best. Even though u know it were meant to be broken it’s not easy to accept that. I was in a trance . It would be a lie if I tell you that I’m over her. But I promise I would never compare you with her neither Would I like you to be her. I want another chance at love, at life n that’s with you.. ” Nitansha could not hold back anymore she wanted to weep badly. she wanted to leap into his warms. She wanted to Comfort him n may be take little comfort in his being. She wanted to collect those small pieces of his heart and wanted to keep them locked in a small box and wanted to throw the key into the ocean. Or to somewhere none else could find it. While She started to collect those shattered pieces She forgot, the broken pieces could sting. When Siddharth asked her about her past relationships She felt the pain of internal injury. She felt the mirror is the deadliest when shattered. Apart from reflecting your deeds zoomed and focused to a multiple times, it has the ability to tear the flesh and make you bleed.

She just smiled and told him about everyone who had ever proposed her n whom she had rejected . From that day onwards They had open access to all their letters and emails.  

The bell rang , making her return to the reality. She prepared her apology speech. Took in a long breath and opened the door. But he wasn’t there .He had sent the driver instead. He asked about him. The driver said he was busy. She felt a pang of sorrow . In their marriage of two years Siddharth had never missed the opportunity to kiss her good bye.. 

As she sat in the Car , n it started rolling,She opened the Email.  

Kaira had written! 

Dear Nitansha,

Arav is no more! 

The impact of those 4 words were so heavy that she felt someone has knocked her head with a heavy iron rod and snatched away the ground beneath her. Her head started spinning , She didn’t know how to react . So much was happening around her,like she was in a movie hall n some one was taking interest in all the tragic scenes , Like it was in a fast forwarded motion n she couldn’t find the remote to stop it. She continued reading the letter with eyes full of tears..

“I don’t know how much you know about me, But let’s hope at least u know me. I won’t spend time in formalities and directly tell u the story you never got to know about, whose consequences u know but the process you are unaware of. 

We (Me and Arav) were researching under the same guide. We both were Indians , believing in same culture, having some aspirations, facing the same problem of adjustments, Surviving to withstand the stress and to come out as the best. In this maddening crowd where we knew no body yet every body was polite enough to return your open eyed gazes with a humble smile,we were like a mismatch piece of a puzzle. U know it was not wrong. It was just new, it was odd, it was different. 

U must be thinking how come I’m so, comfortable in narrating these to you !! Well you were never an intruder to me. I have known so much about you that I doubt whenever someone wants to hear my life story it would be incomplete without mentionig you. let it, coming back to the point , We were stuck in a crowd which was in a race to overcome each other. Mornings turned​ into evenings , evenings to nights but the lights ! Those lights never went off . Like they were afraid of sleeping, like If they sleep some one would take advantage of that time n make their dream come true only to have patent on his name. The city never sleeps. They never take rest. They find comfort in beating each other. You were in the best institute of India . I know you must have known what hard work is. but trust me when I’m saying here, our Hard work is nothing compared to theirs . We tried to adjust. We tried to stand in the crowd then realized the crowd was changing within the blink of eye, everyone was being replaced in a jiffy . We tried to walk, we increased our pace, we ran , we stumbled, we rose, again ran, whenever we got tiered we draged  ourselves .. We were afraid if we don’t keep up with their speed we would be lost. N after loosing our family our relations we had only ourselves . We could not afford to lose us. 
Aarav! U know him .U know how competitive he was. Well he was like a fire, spreading his wings with whatever opportunity he got. He always kept himself busy. He was the guides favorite. Me!? Well let’s say I was not the best yet I managed to be in the toppers lists somehow. Our friendship Started when we completed our thesis and there was a party to celebrate. He was boozed to the levels of professional addicts. He had no sense of what he was doing. Someone requested me to play the violin . I started with a Happy note, but didn’t know how I ended up with a classical melancholic tune. before I took my leave from the stage, he came up to the stage n requested me to Play the tune once more. I didn’t know what probed me to grant his wish , May be it was that thing in his eyes , Which was clouded like a storm , yet their was lingering burn like a spark of lightning stroke. I felt I was trapped in a raging Strom. He silently Strummed his guitar. First slowly then Furiously, changing from high notes to lower . Then he started singing. A song so, soothing yet evoking the turmoil of emotions at a time . I wondered whether the vodka was strong or the ‘cocktail’ . 

He was singing to us, but I could see him complaining​​, could see his pent up frustrations , the unfairness of his life, the foggy image of his future. The uncertainty of his actions n the irrationality of his thoughts. He was aware of all these. He wanted to rush from them , yet he wanted to cling to them. They had become his addiction. A maddening addiction. That time I realized Addiction is not when you  destroy yourself in the pit of alcohol  or weeds. It can be a maddening restlessness where u feel numb , it’s the urge to leave all control and hide yourself in the desire to be found . It’s like throwing yourself in the ocean coz u know ocean returns back everything, but not knowing that it might change you from a person to a body, it may kill YOU in the process. 

A gut wrenching emotion surged inside me. An urge to Take him in the arms, an urge to ran hand through his curly locks n to let him cry his heart out,To hide him from the world, to cure all his wounds , to make him understand , to understand him , To protect him , To be by his side , To walk that extra mile for him, to wait for the eternity . I think What I felt that night was new to me. No one has ever made me that restless.. it was like mirror neurons were transferring his restlessness, his anxiety, his heartaches , a part of his soul to me . our soul connected over an eye contact. His eyes full of stories caught the eagerness of my learning eyes , held it, trapped it n bound me in it forever.
He used to tell me how it’s not about love yet it’s all about love. 
He had told me about you. Don’t worry!! all the beautiful things . He had told me about his parents, his friends but mostly all his talks revolved around you. 

The moment you had rebelled against seniors, the moment when he had envied you for stealing the lime light . The moment when you had actually stolen the limelight beating him in the guitar quest,the moment when he had taken the revenge in semester results. The moment prof.dutta had put you two together in a project group . The moment you had together ruined his lab. The moment he had put the blame on you and the moment you took all the blame upon yourself.The moment He had apolozised . And the moment you had forgiven. The moment he had shared his feelings and the moment you had gone down on your knees .  His moments , your moments and when they merged to be your moments. your careless attitudes, his responsibility towards you. His aloofness ,your sensitivity. His grave arrogancy,and your easy going jovial nature, He had told me everything .. If you go by his words it was all that a physical balance needs to stick it’s needle at zero. He had also informed me the immigration factor also, That turned the equation into an inequality. He wanted to fly high but you were not ready to leave the ground yet. your dreams were to live with your closed ones. And he had aspired to live for his closed ones. How silly n young u have been!! Had you realized that ,you  both were living by your closed ones, you might have stuck together. 

A single drop of tear rolled down her cheeks. 


The letter further read.

 Well we kind of started taking fancy into each other. Perhaps he found the perfect pillow for himself n I found the Shoulder . I were there by his side. In every ups and downs. He used to call me his support system . I was everything to him, his guide, his confident , his best friend , his soulmate, everything except for being the love of his life.But he was everything for me. My love and my life. 

After learning about your marriage, He kept himself locked in a room for days. Even I wasn’t allowed to enter. His parents were Stressed. They even left India n showed up here . But he wouldn’t listen to anyone. After a weak We Couldn’t take it anymore . We broke the door and went there. There he was . U know what! u would think he would be drown in misery , Would be sitting there in dark pit of alcohol n would be crying over you. but what we found, completely surprised us. He was working on another thesis on dwarf stars . He was surrounded by crumpled papers , pens and scales erasers n everything. His parents was too dumfounded to speak anything. His mother was just relived to see his son in a sane state . She went to offer her prayer. His father followed her.

 I could see the Small weary lines in his eyes, The furrow of his forehead . The uneven breathing pattern , The heavy sighs n that nerve wrenching restlessness. I felt incompetent standing there n not knowing what to do. I called his name. At first he didn’t answer . Then again, I called Arav ,he noded slightly. I went to him put a hand on his shoulder n looked down into his eyes. He stood up from his chair n went to the window. I followed him . He looked at the crescent. I looked at the crescent on the earth, incomplete yet hidden by the shadow of his past. I couldn’t bear the silence. I hugged him . N burried my face in his chest. He was not responsive at first . I couldn’t hold on anymore, seeing him breaking down piece by piece broke something inside me. I dare not attempt to readjust those pieces. I feared I could not face the bruises of his heart . I knew I couldn’t have that Arav back. I broke down into tears. He hold me there..hugged me tight and silently I could sense tears drops falling on my head. when my sobs restored in to silent tears I looked up to him He broke down at once. This time I was the one holding him. I didn’t utter a word. He cried the whole night. N tired he slept there in my lap. 
The darkest night passed. The usual Arav was back . But I knew He had burried the part associated with u in some dark corner of his heart. I didn’t probe further. Some memories are meant to be hidden. Some wounds are meant to be un treated. Some stories better be left unsaid n some water better not go under the bridge. 

After a year he proposed me. I said “Yes”. I knew what I’m getting was not the complete Arav but I couldn’t refuse what I was getting. I knew I’m getting more than I deserve. 
U know some are not that lucky . Some get the full moon while others admire the crescent. For me he was the crescent. Incomplete for the rest of the world but I knew the shadow that was covering his better half. He was the symbol of life, good n bad , black n white, light and shadow , full yet half . I knew I was not the one to complete him, for he was complete in his full glory. I was meant to be a star in his sky. 

Not every one has the glory of being Radha . Some wives are as cursed as Rukmini . Not everyone has the dedication of being Meera . Some have to find their solace in the fire of Accepting the past, like Rukmini. Krishna Was Rukmini’s yet he belonged with Radha. Everyone praises Meera for for her dedication, but somewhere the pain, the journey, the tears and the fears of Rukmini remains hidden.

It was a good journey. Like said earlier he was my everything and I was his everything except for love. We were like the bestest of pals. Who could spend the forever in each other’s company. We were like the siblings who Understand each others words even though they were unspoken. like Opponent we argue, we fight but then like children we forget those. Life was good. It was a sweet journey. Only the chemistry, that spark was missing. you were not there. Still Your memory was lingering in the air. Did I felt jealous!! Yes, but sometimes I felt relieved. Coz I know he couldn’t live without you were the oxygen to his breaths  . I could sense  something was eating him up.But I didn’t know what. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I asked him many times but he wouldn’t utter a word. I felt sometimes contacting you for help but feared that would cause trouble in your life. 

On 20.04.16,(last night, even 8hrs haven’t passed) He met with an accident. Car accident. Can you believe it! He was such a cautious driver. No alcohol intake, No case of break failure. Just that the Car was in 120km/hr speed n he couldn’t see a speeding truck coming from the turning. I met Him in the hospital. 
He Was lying on the death bed . U know he asked me to forgive him.He confessed that the guilt of not giving me the love I deserved, not being able to erase you from his memory was eating him up. The feeling of being unfair to ‘us’ maddend him so much that he speeded up to an extent that  could numb his mind.He Handed me a diary. Asked me to read it n then to hand it over to you.U know what his parting words were

It’s not about love,still it’s all about love

Looking down at the retrospect , I realized Even the full moon is engulfed in the shadow on a new moon day. His funeral is in your city, Banaras. Hope you would pay him a visit for the last time. It’s too much to ask, I know. But he deserves this. so, I beg you Nitansha. 

_Kaira . 

She held the letter to her heart and cried it out. 
As the flight took off she wondered to the day of her marriage. How her mother had promised her not to Speak anything about Arav Infront of Siddharth. How she had restrained her from doing so giving her ‘Kasam’ . How she had lectured her every time that past is past. N she should not let it ruin her future. And now she had even ruined her present. She had broken Siddharth’s trust.  Arav is no more. In the airport when she had called her mother , she accused her of ruining everything on her own. She didn’t know what fate had planned for her. But at that moment She wanted to pay a last tribute to the parting soul. May  the soul that Had already burried in her get united with his soul at the holy bank Of Gangaa. She decided She would go to his funeral and upon returning she would go to Siddharth , n tell him all the truth. not that there was anything much to say. Then it’s up to him to accept her or not. 
The plane landed. she went straight to the ghat. Watching the fire burning his body , She burnt in the Fire too. She took a bath.

While returning ,Kaira hugged her. And handed her a diary. She took that with a shivering hand. And said “U know Kaira apart from Radha, Meera and Rukmaini , There were 16,000 gopis , who even after being rescued by Krishna n being with him, Didn’t belong to him”. With a faint uplift of her lips she bid farewell from kaira from herself, from him, from his memories and from the Past. 

In the end when it comes upon us it’s all about loving someone.



For him She was a gulal, intoxicating and full of life.. N for her he was the Holi, full of colors,full of emotions her favorite and her identity.


She lied down and hovered into the mystic land of memories. As the Vast Arry of colors played Holi in the sky, she marvelled the beauty of the northern hemisphere. For the first time in a decade she felt connected to herself. The pink, green ,red,and streaks of violet  amalgamation in the sky matched the after Holi image of her Banaras. She realized the sky was playing tribute to her land . The sparks of electron and proton far away from the sun were creating the vivid illusion of colors flying in the air. The only difference was they could not color her body with their light. Yet they wore an uncanny resemblance with the colors , they dyed her soul with a happiness that had lost its touch from her life. The Game of colors over her head was like a show of fire works. Sometimes they brust into fits of color and sometimes like a rongoli arrange themselves into a pattern. So foreign yet in a sense so indigenous. His Words rang in her ear “wherever we may be , we would be connected. If by nothing else ,This sky will always be our roof”. She smiled. Her cheeks turned red. Somewhere far away the blue eyes of his saw the merry colors of yellow. Her fellow travelers saw the green of jealous seeing her. All the colors were there in her life ; perfectly arranged in a pattern to make the rainbow ashemed of its pride. But this wasn’t all. Her life didn’t have Her favorite black or his favourite white. Smiling she got transported to the Days she left behind.. To the days when she used to complain why aren’t they allowed to use  black and white colors in Holi…. And finally to the days when she got her answers within the questions..

🎭 10 years ago🎭

With the Dhol beating the thunders and the ‘pichkaris’ challenging the rain ,Bhang and paan took charge of  the new job offered to them i.e to paint the city in such a combination of colors that would put any modern art to shame. It was the day when people would get drunk by colors. Gulalls would intoxicate people only by spreading their color. Sweets , dance , music, and unlimited fun filled with crazyness was the essence of Holi. Holi wasn’t just a festival, for her it was an emotion . But unfortunately he was afraid of emotions. Theirs wasn’t a match made by cupid. They were arranged by the family, A couple made in heaven as they liked to say. It wasn’t her first Holi with him . By  this time she had known how he dreaded being dyed with colors. He was the Ultimate perfectionist who could not tolerate a single dot of mismatch, n it was a matter of his white kurta getting dyed in Gulalls . She Laughed imagining the scowl on his face when she would apply him color. This was her last Holi in India. She would have to go to abroad for higher studies. She didn’t know when she would get enough holidays to come back to him. So, she was determined to color him with her love. 

As a self established ritual, her Holi starts with him. So, After changing into white shalwar and suit She went to the Mandir. After doing Aarti she painted the feet of her elders. When she came to her room in search of him, he was no where to find. She smiled knowing he would be hiding behind the water tank on the roof top. So she started ascending the stairs. In a slow and calculated steps she covered the staircase without making any detectable sound. She went to the water tank and “boo” . But he wasn’t there. She got worried called his name. There was no response. She panicked for a moment. She hurridly stepped back as someone started calling her. When she was about to come out of the tank someone put a bucket of violet water on her. Shocked she started shouting. She wasn’t irritated by the sudden brust of colors. She was irritated coz it wasn’t him who had colored her first. She was dripping wet but she wasn’t the one to let it go. She threw the Vermillion in the direction of the attack. And ran down the stairs. She thought of going in search of him but someone dragged her out. Once she got engaged in the preparation she forgot herself. She danced into the beats of dhol. Danced with everyone and anyone who matched steps with her.But once in a while she felt restless. It seemed She couldn’t feel safe without him . Though there was color flying everywhere,she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy the festivities. By the passing of time she grew more and more restless.. Children were running here and there throwing water balloons at each other. People were changing their masks. They were throwing everyone into the mud . Some were drinking bhangs and ladies were busy in dancing. They were smiling and enjoying. That’s what she liked about Holi. Every one forget their worries and enjoy themselves to the fullest. Though colored with gulals they seemed to drop their maks. There was no awakardness , no boundaries , no restriction. Holi was the perfect illusion of life god created for human. Wild, untamed , crazy and full of life.But it seems what he thought of Holi was a bit of hallucination. She Couldn’t be carefree without being with him.He was the protective shield for her. He used to guard her so, she could play a safe holi. Without him the whole Festival seemed colorless to her.Within a few minutes someone would come to her and apply color on her. She would fake a smile and repeat the gesture. When needed she even faked a smile or two. She tried his number but it showed out of coverage area. She started sensing a nervous attack. It had been lunch hour. N there was no trace of him since the morning. She took a few sips of thandai and bhang to calm her nerves . Without thinking she stepped out of the gate. She went to The Ghat to their spot. Where they used to sit and plan about their future. Again there she found herself to be alone. There was no Sign of him. But his aura was there. She could sense it . She smiled . Relief flooded through her. As she took a few steps ahead She stumbled upon someone. The sudden reflex of punching him in the gut was somehow turned into the sudden desire of slapping him hard. Without thinking twice she slapped him across his cheek. He was there in all his 6 ft glory smiling and welcoming all her angry outbrusts. Finally when she came to her sense she angryly threw her arm up in the air and with a sound of frustration stumped her feet in the sands. All the while he remained there watching her Various displays of moods . For him She was a gulal, intoxicating and full of life.. N for her he was the Holi, full of colors,full of emotions her favorite and her identity. They were so in love with each other. She was incomplete without him. The sound of chaotic murmures intrupted her train of thoughts . She came to her senses. There he was, in all his 6ft glory but not standing, lying on the river bank. Then she looked around and found they weren’t alone. He was wet and someone had painted him red on the head …

*A few days later* 
As someone threw a water balloon towards her ,She stared down at her saree. It was dripping wet but there has been no color on it. As she came out of her trance she took in her surroundings. She realized she was dreaming about a life she had left behind her. Now the widow home was her new residence and the white saree was her new identity. She smiled at the irony.She was wearing his favourite colour but he wasn’t there to appreciate. Her life had taken the shades of her favorite color but she could no longer approve. She realized Holi doesn’t include the two colors as they are the combination of all. Sometimes all these colors disappear from our life making it Blanche. And sometimes in a Newton’s disc they mix with each other to give white light. Sometimes all the gulals mix to create the darkest shade of black and as we go deeper into the fact they actually don’t reflect any light making it black.  How much we may say we all have different shades , in the end our life gets summarised under either of these two. Black or white. Good or bad, Gay or sad. Her last Holi was the last of her interaction with the colors . The last memories of her land. As they Washed down the Vermillion from her head and the colors on her dress ran away along with the water, she wiped away all the colors from her life. 

Back to 2017.

As the glorious display came to an end with the horizon bringing the new rays of hope along with the rising sun, her flash back came to an end. She sighed . After his departure she never had any courage to return to her city. Though she had knowingly avoided colors she couldn’t restrict her heart. Holi may mean many things to many people. But for her Holi still meant him. She was devoid of colors as she didn’t have any trace of him. She was denied of any attachment towards it as she could no longer associate herself with him,  yet she couldn’t restrict her heart against him. For her Holi means only him .



The Missing Strings 

… How much even you try life always comes with some Missing Strings.”

A/N – Anyone’s resemblance of their real life is mere coincidence, it hasn’t been targeted to anyone’s personal life. Something for a light reading and something which might make us realize the importance of relations in our real life.                   

As I stand in front of the mirror, by the side of the most beautiful woman of my life cladded in maroon lehenga adorned with some beautiful golden zari works and with the slightest hint of makeup, tears filling up my eyes I wish she could see me. To me, both of us are standing in front of the mirror but to her, it was just her. I am as much visible to anyone as love, it exists but no one has seen it. Today is the most special day of her life and yet the tears of unhappiness color my face. I hear footsteps nearing the bridal room and as a matter of habit, I turn to hide behind the curtain, as I always did, just to realize that I can’t be seen. Her mother enters and waves her hand over her face, as a part of the belief to keep her safe and healthy, and hugs her tightly. Before leaving she looked around and whispered into the thin air, “How I wish he was there! “. I heard. My heart wrenched, I wanted to shout out aloud, wanted to scream so loud that people could hear me out, but.

The gorgeous bridesmaids arrived and took her with them to the mandap, for the rituals to begin. I was standing by the pillar witnessing every ritual. With the beginning of each ritual I had a feeling of my heart skipping a beat, every beat made me feel how distanced and detached I am from her. The part of the rituals which hurt me the most was when her mother offered her hand to the groom, entrusting her daughter to the groom, symbolizing the couple’s love and taking vows to be with each other forever.  How I wish it was my hand there. As the rituals were nearing their closure  SHE was becoming HIS forever. This time around tears did roll down from both of our eyes. The difference was, hers were for leaving behind her world and entering a new one with her love of life while mine for already letting go of someone I have lost forever.

The last of the rituals was the “Bidaai”, while she was clinging to her near ones I stood there silently crying and taking in the power and strength of the moment. After hugging and weeping hard against the shoulders of her mother she paused for a moment as if reliving her past and cried even more. I knew who it was for. I was the person missing from the entire event. She was missing the first man in her life, she is missing me.

“Papa” she breathed! My heart broke into pieces. Even if I wanted to I couldn’t go near her, couldn’t hold her in my arms. This was the very first time I cursed my death. My daughter is crying for me and I am not there for her. All this happened in a flash of a second and then Nitin came in, “It’s okay Nivi, I am there for you!”

“I know you will be there for her, in every step of her life from now on. You shall be her protector, you won’t leave any leaf unturned to make her happy but my dear boy there are times when she will need her papa! And I will never be able to reach her. This is what saddens me, this is the worst part for not being there for your loved ones. How much even you try life always comes with some Missing Strings.” and these words remained unheard. With one last glimpse of the house, she got into the car. As the car left I kept on looking until it faded away and all I was staring at was a dark endless road.

~Smaranika Dash

Solace to the Soul… 

it has crossed my mind a billion times of asking him to let me be a permanent part of his life but the idea of rejection has always pushed away those thoughts, so it did today. Maybe today isn’t the right day.

A/N- Any resemblance to anyone’s personal life is a sheer co-incidence. The aim is not to target anyone’s love life but to hoosh the taboos of our societies.

Happy Reading Folks!

From where I stand I see a silhouette of a tall man, some six feet two-three inches tall, in his forties, looking across the valley amidst the setting sun searching for answers to the questions he has been asking himself for the past few years. And I know all he is being able to find is the reason for self-doubt and remorse. I have been a part of his life for the last three years, I have seen him face some ugly truths of life and some situations beyond the control of human emotions. But his dark clouds were swayed away by bright sunshine, his two little packets of joy Harsh and Avni. He did win the case of their custody, he parted his way from his wife, but there was this guilt of separating his kids from their mother. Little did he know his little angels were indeed his angels, they always stood up for their father. With all these incidents turmoiling their lives they moved to Chicago, that’s when we met, again.

In a short time, I became a part of their life. From helping them settle in the “Heart of America” to guiding him apply for universities, in helping the baby grownups find a school to dining with them on special occasions. With time, these occasional meetings started becoming frequent. And then I was there with them 24 hours, inseparable. Harsh and Avni had started building up a pleasant rapport with me, they were by far the best bunches I had come across.

The Earth kept spinning about its axis and revolving around the Sun and swiftly the days turned to months, we started getting closer. What I thought to be an infatuation started blossoming into love. This wasn’t a thing of mere months, it was a bond I had with him at first sight, when we first met, back in India. His tall figure, his stature, his confidence and humble attitude had intrigued me. The only difference is that he was a happy married man then, now he’s just another man in the pursuit of happiness.
And now, I stand here today looking at him and shifting my gazes between him and the ring in my hand, it has crossed my mind a billion times of asking him to let me be a permanent part of his life but the idea of rejection has always pushed away those thoughts, so did it today. Maybe today isn’t the right day. It’s like gravity when you release something it comes back to the ground that’s how science works. With people, if you set them free and they return to you then it’s yours forever, but if it doesn’t, maybe you are just on the wrong planet or he wasn’t the one, to begin with. Pushing away these thoughts as I walk towards him, slowly closing the spaces between us I suddenly hear him whisper my name. I keep my hand on his shoulder assuringly that I am here, have always been here, will always be here.
He looks back adjusting his glasses, smiling, he points at my messy hair unaware of his own. His stare hardens as if he is trying to say something, my lashes dropped instinctively giving him the permission to speak his heart out.
Sliding his hand into his pant pockets, he shows a ring and slides in my finger, “I have done this before yet I am more than ready to do it again. I have had once given my heart and soul to someone who was dear to me, more than anything else, yet I am here today asking you to mend my broken existence. Will you be the Mandrake to my petrified soul ?”
Tears welled up in our eyes slowly finding their way out, they escaped. It was different, cold surrounding, racing hearts, warm tears. “Yes!” I whispered, “only if you promise to be Professor Sprout and help me grow.” The light sobbings turned into a hearty laughter. I slid the ring I bought him. We stood there for a few minutes, arm in arm. I don’t know about the forever thing, but whatever happened today was meant to happen and it somehow made me feel complete. Hazel Grace’s words seemed to be true, I did live a forever in those numbered minutes.


La Pluie

I smiled and I cried. I smiled over my fate, I cried over the death of my beautifully woven dreams . I smiled that finally I got to touch her; I cried that I couldn’t get to talk to her. Smiling, crying, sobbing I remained there, Taking in all the scenes and remenscing about my life.

The Sun was playing hide and seek with the clouds. Clouds that were hovering over my head like dark monsters. It could rain anytime. I thought I have to rush, or else I would be dripping wet from the down pour. 
At the distance the bell rung. Students claded in uniform ran outside the gate. And to my bad luck it started raining. I ignored the impact on me. The sight infront of me was marvelous. The students were running out of the gate forming a sea of grey and white. The white of their uniform appeared like the foam on the waves. And the irregular pattern of the students created the illusion of ripples . The rain added charm to it . I was mesmerized. I stood there and waited for her. It was nothing new for me, I have been waiting for her for the last 2 years. Here in this cycle stand , day after day , only to see a glimpse of my dream. 

I cherished everymoment I got to see her beauty. She was like a soothing breath to my chaotic life. The school was going to be closed for the Autumn break. I would have to wait for 15 days to see her next glimpse. I was anxious, I was restless. It was raining , I had no means of protection. I was wet , I was shivering , but these small hurdles could never create any obstacle in my way to get her glimpse for the last time…

But suddenly The gate keeper Saw me there. when I saw he was coming towards me I tried to hide. Actually I was so absorbed in her thoughts that I couldn’t sense someone (the gate keeper) watching me. It had been two long years, still I hadn’t been caught yet. That day everything seemed to go wrong. Watching my failed attempts at hidding from him, the gate keeper must have taken me as a thief. Not that my clothes could have hinted otherwise. 

I was a thin boy. Pale by complexion or insufficient blood, no one can tell. By no one I wasn’t indicating doctors. since I have never met one, I couldn’t really comment on their skills. That would be unfair. Trust me I know what “unfair” means. I admit I have never been to a fancy school like this but they say experience is the best teacher. I know how it feels when someone becomes unfair towards us. sometimes fate becomes unfair and even sometimes our own parents too. And my whole life has been unfair to me. Having witnessed those feeling I would never intentionally pull someone into that hole .Even today luck wasn’t in my favor. The gate keeper found me.

Having thought me a thief he slapped me hard. My cheeks burnt. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation. Every now and then I got beaten . The slap was nothing in comparison to the physical abuse and pain I get daily. 

What hurt me more was the embarrassment. He slapped me infront of the crowd. Called me names. Insulted my parents. I was embarrassed. I was used to beating , for I deny to sell my Integrity and values by stealing or begging. But today he was questioning my character. I tried to speak but he again stroke me hard against my cheeks. I tasted iron, along with salt. 

I was too afraid to raise my gaze. A crowd had been clustered there. “She might be watching me. What would she think if she sees me like this. The situations weren’t in my favor . She would think I am a thief . They might hand me over to the police. All my hopes would get shattered. she would never accept me”. These were the thoughts echoing in my brain. 

My brain stopped working. My body became numb, partly due to the chill and rain outside. And partly due to the tremor of pain and embarrassment inside. I dropped to my knees . I didn’t know whether I cried or I shouted. I tugged his hand . Tried to explain him everything but all my attempts went in vain. 

The crowd watched me with curiosity and disgust. Murmures were going on. I was too dumb struck to comprehend those silent talks. Some boys were hooting for the gatekeeper to strike me again. Some girls were ‘aww’ing and cooing . Every one was witnessing the scene. 

A kind face appeared from the crowd. The crowd departed and she made a bee line toward me. There she was, in all her shinning glory and serene smile. She had came to my rescue. If I die today I would have no regrets. She believed in me , that’s why she has came to me. That was a the moment of relief in my years of pain.
But I was mistaken. She was followed by her Principal. She didn’t even acknowledge me. Pointing towards me she said something. I didn’t understand a thing. Or should I say I didn’t wish to understand. Judging by her look I could tell that this would be the last time I was going to see her, despite of the fact that this was the first time I got to watch her from so close. She was like the moon to me. Beautiful, Smart, intelligent , elegant and classy. She was all that I wasn’t and all I wanted to be. She was the definition of perfection and yet she was the reason behind my destruction. I drank in her beauty, like a chakor drinks in the serenity of moon . I tried to remember every details of her. I tried to paint her image in brain. I tried to write her in the chords of my heart  so that when ever it will beat it would encore  her rythm .  I tried to feel her in every inch of my body. The crave to be held by her was overpowering. I couldn’t resist any longer. I knew this would be the last time I got to see her. They might send me to jail or might make me go. But one thing was sure I won’t be allowed to the school permisess. So I gave in to the urge. Slowly I raised my hand. I reached towards her, Touched her feet. As I touched her feet ;two drops of tears rolled down my cheek. This was the “dream came true” moment of my life. I was touching the feet of my mother. I have imagined it in a lot of ways. But never once in my life this possibility had occurred to me. Hell! life is unpredictable. well in a sense it’s not. I should have known it would be never too fair towards me. I smiled and I cried. I smiled over my fate, I cried over the death of my beautifully woven dreams . I smiled that finally I got to touch her; I cried that I couldn’t get to talk to her. Smiling, crying, sobbing I remained there, Taking in all the scenes and remenscing about my life. I sat there untill she jerked her feet away. she looked down at me. Something flickered in her eyes. Having been a teacher for some years now, she must have learnt how to read the languages of eyes. My eyes full of tears spoke volumes to hers. She stared at me. then looked away. 
I wasn’t angry on her. She was bounded , She was bounded that time too when she had abandoned me thinking I would be better off as an orphan than a basta*d. I understand her and I understand her reasons. I returned to the reality. The principal had taken her decision. she was handing me over to the police. 
I looked at her, my mother. Finally she broke the silence asked me where do u live!? I gave her the address of the orphanage where she had left me 13 years back. For a passing Second I saw a light of realization there. she talked to her Principal. They mutually agreed to send me to that hell again.

That day the rain washed away all my hopes . My wings were heavy from the weight of my broken dreams. That day the rain not only wetted my body it drenched my soul.still I found solace in the rain. I was not alone in the crowd . The sky was crying for me. No one could see the hot tears burning my in eyes in the cold drops of rain. For me it was like her. The rain had always reminded me of her. Only I got to know now, that they both are the synonyms of each other. She and the rain;the two martyers  of my life who  betrayed me every time I relied on them.

The lighting stroke, tearing apart the dark clouds; and somewhere deep in my heart a ray of hope flickered.  As I sat on the van with the gate keeper, I looked into her eyes and the look in her eyes told me, from there on my life was going to be a little bit less unfairer towards me. 

                                        _ 🎭Nayana🎭

Wishing upon Candles

​He waited for 3 long hours. He waited for her, without knowing whether she would be elated to see him or would be mad at him. He waited with a belief. A belief that told him that his wait for her is finally going to over. He had treasusered her in his heart. It has been a year since he had left her , but his heart had always bleed for her. Wherever he had gone he had felt restless and incomplete.There wasn’t a day when he hadn’t looked at her photo.It was a nagging feeling that she might learn how to live without him. If his worst nightmares comes true,what would he do!!

With a sigh He waited for her with the cake. 

It was her b’day. 


It was her b’day

She was with her friends . But all her thoughts were revolving around him.  She closed her eyes and wished upon the candles that atleast , atleast for that day she could get a glimpse of him . When she opened her eyes he was there .. He was there holding her cake .
She couldn’t believe her eyes. She bite her tongue to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She ran to him . Hugged him tight .
 As the Army officer took his daughter into his warm embrace he thanked the God for safeguarding her in his absence.