What is Love?

What is love? A question whispered under moonlit skies, penned into diaries, and sung in melodies that outlast time. Love is the hero of every story, the muse of every poem, and the heartbeat of existence itself. But how does one describe something so vast, so ethereal? Let me try.

Love is not just a feeling; it’s an entity. It walks, it talks, it dances. It’s the rain that kisses parched earth, the sun that coaxes a shy flower to bloom. Love is Cinderella’s glass slipper, fitting only the one destined to hold it. It’s Rahul calling out “Pyar dosti hai”, and it’s Jack whispering to Rose “You jump, I jump”. Love, my friend, is a language that transcends worlds.

Sometimes, love is a quiet companion, like the warmth of a cup of freshly brewed coffee on a cold winter morning. Other times, it’s a wind, like Simran running through mustard fields to Raj’s arms. It’s both the butterflies in your stomach and the calm after the storm. Love is paradoxical that way—a chaos that soothes, a madness that heals.

Personified, love is a mischievous artist. It paints the sky with sunsets, scatters petals in spring, and sketches constellations for dreamers to trace. Love is also a poet who lingers in the silence between words, who turns ordinary glances into sonnets and mundane moments into memories.

But let’s not mistake love for perfection. It is flawed and human too. Love can be the longing in a farewell at a railway station, a tear rolling down the cheek in the middle of an argument, or the unspoken sorry buried in a hug. Love is Geet’s relentless optimism but also Aditya’s silent battles. It’s as real as it is magical.

Love wears many disguises. It’s the parent sacrificing their dreams for a child’s future. It’s the friend who saves the last piece of pizza for you, the stranger who lends a helping hand, the partner who remembers how you like your coffee. Love is omnipresent, woven into the fabric of life. You just need the eyes to see it.

And yes, love stumbles. It breaks, it bleeds, and it aches. But it also mends, grows, and learns. Love is an eternal student, forever evolving, forever hopeful. Like the phoenix, it rises from the ashes, stronger and wiser.

In the end, love is not about grand gestures or poetic declarations. It’s about showing up, holding on, and believing in the magic of two imperfect souls choosing each other every single day. It’s about finding beauty in flaws and solace in chaos. It’s a journey, not a destination.

So, what is love? It’s the courage to dream and the strength to live those dreams. It’s the smile you wear when you’re not alone, the song that plays in your heart, the hope that lingers in the darkest hours. 

Love is everything, and love is you.

The Cuddly Vampire Diaries

Part A : Chapter 01

Love at First Bite

Out of all the blues they got in touch at an odd hour.

They connected.

A vampire. A human.

He was bitten! He was smitten!

Coming Soon!

An Amateur Chef

An Amateur Chef!

Always Have, Always Will.

I don’t know if it’s the way she looks at me or the way she caresses my head that makes me fall in love with her every time. Yes, I love her. I love her a lot and I fall in love with her every morning as the sun rises and I imagine to love her, even more the next day before going off to sleep. Every love story has a different kind of plot, a different kind of setting, a different set of characters, a different kind of conflict to solve and a different kind of theme but what all the love stories have in common is the passion. Passion is apparently the most vital element of a love story. It’s not adequate for a person to merely seek and desire love; it must also seem necessary in some or the other way. Now it’s not needed to show to the world how passionate you are but you need to be honestly passionate towards the one you love. If you are passionate it will eventually be exhibited to the one you love in countless different ways. Moreover, you can’t grow passion; it develops organically.

I don’t know if I am passionate about her or not but when I think of her, I desire to have her with me for the rest of my life. I want her to be there to wish me in the mornings when I leave my bed and overwhelm me with the smile she always wears on her lips. I want to be able to give her tiny surprises that make her feel contented every day. I want her to feel that I genuinely respect her. I would never want her to feel left out for any reason and thus, I will keep her tangled in almost every moment of my life. I anticipate to make her smile every other day and to express my love towards her in the most amazing ways imaginable. 

For now, I might not tend to express my love towards her quite sincerely but deep within my heart I always have feelings for her which are unmatched. I might as well sometimes talk impolitely to her and ask her not to bug me but every night before I go to sleep, I feel a certain kind of guilt for having talked to her like that. And that is the perfect moment to postpone my sleep-time a little further and make an apology to her. She might pass a few taunts on me but she will eventually have her lips broadened into a smile in the end and might even hug me.

Expression of love can’t be always all mushed up and sugary; it can sometimes involve care and concerns leading to a certain amount of annoyance but in the big picture it’s all a part of loving someone. There are times when she admonishes me for certain things that I do and I might react to it abruptly in that very moment but it’s only after some eternities of realisation, I find out that she was right in the first place. More or less I realise that she said all those things to me only out of the care and love she contains for me in her heart. Yes, there are points when I come to realise that she would even cross the boundaries of mortality to see me happy. But then what I know about myself being happy is to have her with me, all the time. As a matter of fact she has two places of existence; one contributes to her physical existence and the other contributes to her non-physical existence – deep inside my heart.

Every person on this earth has the privilege to have this kind of love in their lives. All you have to do is to have the right insight of the income of feelings from her and I bet you will be the happiest person. And yes she’ll love you no matter what. After all, she is the lady who underwent tremendous amount of pain just to bring you to this world.

Yes, I love you mother. Always have, always will. 

Coming Soon...

"Itni shiddat se maine tumhe paane ki koshish ki hai, ki har  zarre ne mujhe tumse milane ki saazish ki hai.

Teri nazro ko gila na ho kabhi mujhse, itna toot kar maine tujhse mohabbat ki hai.

Tere ehsaas ki kabhi kami na ho mujhme, tere dil ne mere dil se kuch aisi chahat ki hai.

Har pal tera naam lu is guftagu mein, meri rooh ne meri jubaan ko itni to ijazat di hai.
Koi fariyaad meri pahunch jaye arsh tak saqi, kuch pal k liye maine teri ibaadat ki hai..."

By Anonymous

Presenting

A saga of a beautiful story.

A man.

A lady.

An angel.

Their secret.
The love they share.
And the beauty of everything.

Coming Soon

More Than Anyone Can Ever Imagine

A loud applaud greeted her in the picture. Every head in attendance at the venue turned towards her, and it didn’t look like any one of them would turn back any sooner. Yes, she was(is) that beautiful. Mesmerized by her own splendor, she was smiling exquisitely, and as it always had been, I fell in love with her. Many years had passed by, but to me, she was still the most beautiful woman on this planet. She was an angel. She was my Angel. For a moment, I ignored the people around us, and I merely looked at her. She was indeed the most beautiful woman in this entire world. Her eyes veiled amid the puffy eyelids of hers had something enticing in them that could make me keep looking into her eyes forever. When she smiled, her eyes concealed themselves from the world outside, possibly hiding the shimmer they contained. I, all the time, used to tell her that her eyes were the best feature on her face, and she used to wink at me in response. Beauty was how she always felt inside, which resonated in her eyes. That night her eyes spoke a billion words. Her eyes were beautiful. “Damn, her eyes!” I said to myself.

“Brother, I am happy for you! Finally, you are marrying the girl you have been in love with for years.” my best friend said, patting subtly on my back. Perhaps I was the happiest man alive at that moment. She was walking down the aisle, and the pace of my heartbeat was harmonized with her slow steps. She walked so gracefully that even Eos (goddess of the dawn) would have been envious of her. She wore an enviable dress, and her outfit complimented her. She looked beautiful. Her hair lay open and covered one side of her shoulders, letting her face a good view from the other side. My eyes went further down to her unquestionably flawless waist. I remember when she was concerned about her waist and complained to me that it was oversized, and I would always tell her that it was just impeccable. I told her the truth. I was always tempted to hold her by her waist while we kissed, and if I would forget doing that, she was the one to drag my hands up to her waist. I loved holding her waist, and she loved me back for that. And today, a part of her smile was for what she used to desire.

The entire banquet was romanced along with the tunes of the songs being played. It was possibly one of the finest collections of romantic songs. Every piece was somehow linked to our story and fanned the flames of our moments. Beautiful moments.

My father was standing next to me. He was looking at me with a smile on his face. I could sense that he had been observing me looking at her for quite a while now. I smiled back at him. “Your eyes look happy tonight.” He said to me. He raised his hands and rested them on my shoulder. In soft words, he said something beautiful, “Your bride looks beautiful today, and I can see that in your eyes. I have never talked to you about the feeling of love in particular, and today I think I don’t even need to. The way you look at her tells me a lot about what you apprehend of love. What you have for her contained in your eyes is a love of a different kind that can only be imagined in fairy tales. I just want to tell you that I am happy for you, son.” I could see the reflection of happiness in his wet eyes. My lips further widened into a more giant smile.

She had the face of her mother and the eyes of her father. In both of them, I could always see a part of her. Her mother clutched her hands tight, and as she climbed up on the rostrum, her hair swayed from one direction to another, which obliged her to adjust them to avoid landing them on her face. And to be honest, a girl maneuvering her hair at any hour of the day can make you feel weak in the knees. Especially if the girl is the one you are already in love with. There she was, standing right in front of me in the bridal dress, looking more beautiful than ever. She was about three feet away from me, and I could still scent the fragrance of her, which was as intoxicating as it always had been. With every breath I took, I could feel her fragrance sweep into me and remind me of the moments she had held herself close to me. I could see glimpses of all of those splendiferous moments in my head when we used to hold each other as if the next moment would be the moment of our separation. It was no less than magic. Her hair rested beautifully on her shoulders and covered her bosom further down. The black of her hair went well with the red of her blouse. Her face glowed, and a light touch of makeup complimented her. She never used to put up even the basic makeup, yet she always had me speechless just because she was herself. She was a simple girl on the outside, but she was a blend of surprises on the inside.

She looked at me with a smile, and my heart skipped a beat. I looked back at her right into the eye. They were beautiful. She looked at me for a few couples of seconds and then lowered her eyelids. For those few seconds, I felt as if we were not amidst everyone else but somewhere alone in a land of magic and love. She did this to me every time she looked at me. Flashes from the cameras were blinding me. I looked around. Everyone was busy. Her father was busy looking at her, probably figuring out when her little girl turned into a beautiful woman eligible to marry a man she loved. I could see a fatherly love and care in his eyes for her baby girl. Her mother was busy adjusting her daughter’s hair and dress at a gap of certain intervals. She held her daughter’s hand in hers. She probably wanted her daughter to be the most beautiful bride ever, and if she was to ask me, I would have told her that her daughter was indeed the most beautiful bride ever. I wish I could. Her younger sister was busy cracking mildly funny jokes and calling her weird names. She pinched her elder sister and told her to look at me. I knew she had noticed me constantly gaping at my bride.

Apart from her younger sister, one more person noticed me look at my future wife. She was standing a foot away from me yet so close to my heart. It was my younger sister. She had known her and me as us for a long time. She always admired me as a partner to a girl, and today she was busy smiling to see me marrying the lady I have been in love with for almost a decade. She winked at me. I smiled. My mother was busy adjusting her hand into the gap near my elbow joint. She was proud, and I could feel that by her touch. I looked at the lady who had given me birth and loved me the most. She was smiling. My father was busy wiping off the tears that had rolled down his cheeks. I don’t know what was going on inside his head, but he must have been thrilled seeing all of it happen. I felt an emotional choke in my throat, and everything I looked at; blurred. My eyes teared up.

A part of me was delighted to see everything happening around me. Our parents, relatives, and friends were all gathered to celebrate the day of our marriage. Everyone had a smile on their face. The golden light from the chandelier hung above us, lit her face as a dewdrop would shine in the light of dawn. I could hear ladies from the gathering around us talking about how beautiful my angel looked and how lucky I was to have her in my life. Everything happening around me, with or without any reason, was beautiful. The ceremony of Jaimala was about to start, so all our close relatives whose presence was vital to us and who were not anywhere near were being hunted. The worst thing about marriages is the wait the couple has to endure, and it eventually is the best thing as well. The situations you face on your wedding day are for the first and the last time ever. The realization of being a bachelor for the last time, and after that being attached to a person for the rest of your life. The feeling of looking at your lover who would eventually be tying a knot with you. The feeling of having your friends and relatives look at you and her as a couple. The feeling of walking around the fire seven times with the one you love. It all felt good.

I felt a hand slide into my hand very smoothly and then grip my hand firmly. I turned my head to see who it was. It was my future sister-in-law, the younger sister of the lady I would marry in a couple of hours. She was about thirteen years younger and was really sweet. A wide smile on her face was a delight to look at. “She is beautiful. Isn’t she?” she asked me in a voice as soft as the meadows during the morning. I blushed. “Yes, she is!” I replied. “But not more than you, dear.” I appended a sentence to my reply.

“Oh, come on, jiju! She looks absolutely spectacular, and anyone in this world, including me, can’t steal her thunder tonight. And moreover, I know that she is the most beautiful woman in this world for you. I have been observing you looking at her since she has arrived, and all I can see in your eyes is an immeasurable amount of love for didi. I am glad that she has found her soulmate in you.” She said. I looked at her and felt infinitely delighted to hear what she had just said. She rescued her hands from mine and fled away the next moment to stand next to her sister before I could gather my senses and talk back to her. She winked at me, and I could only pass a smile.

Our parents handed over the garlands made out of flowers for the Jaimala ceremony. I felt a positive wave travel down my spine. I looked at her. She was looking at me and smiling. I could see in her eyes that she was euphoric about the night. There was a sparkle in her eyes whenever she was happy. I always wondered how I could possibly fall in love with the same girl over and over again, and the only answer I could fathom was - her. I fell in love with her repeatedly because it was her. I was frozen with the moment, holding the garland in my hands, not realizing what was happening around me, and was looking at her smile - and in her smile, I could see something more beautiful than the stars. “Hey! Where are you lost…?” I heard a voice from behind me.

“Hey! Where are you lost…?” I heard a voice from behind me. “The couple is done with the Jaimala ceremony!” I listened to the same voice. I was looking at a deep red-colored liquid. I was staring at the wine glass I held in my right hand. It was full. Where did the garland go? Where did she go? Before any more questions popped up in my head, I looked towards the ceremonial stage. There she was in the same dress. And beside her was sitting a guy while I was far away from her standing amidst the crowd. Both of them had a garland hanging down their necks. He was her man. She was smiling, and she looked happy. And come on, who wouldn’t be pleased on the day of their marriage. A frown appeared on my face. “Are you okay?” her best friend asked me, who eventually was a friend of mine as well. I looked at her as she adjusted her spectacles and raised her eyebrows, probably demanding a response from me. I did not say a single word. “And by the way, I am glad you could attend the wedding. I know it’s tough for you, but I am happy you could make it.” She said, flashing a big smile.

“Yes, I am okay!” I replied. She looked at me without uttering a word, and I turned around. Tears flooded my eyes, and I could feel a certain kind of excruciating pain in my chest. I felt wretched. She held me by my shoulders, and before I could wipe off my tears, she turned me around. She looked at me and then looked all the way across the guests towards the girl I loved, who was sitting by the side of the man she was marrying. After a few eternities, she looked back at me and asked, “You still love her?”.

And the only reply I could give her was, “…more than anyone can ever imagine!”

The Blame

“How can one person be so damn beautiful?” He asked her rhetorically and smiled. He was looking at her, mesmerized with the fascination she always sustained on her face. Her proximity often took his breath away. Her mere presence, made him feel ecstatic. Her fragrance and the splendour of her eyes tuned his existence to some mystical music. His soul romanced and danced in joy. Somewhere he hoped that the silence of his eyes and the beats of his heart could deliver to her how he felt for her. She was a thought he wished to think always. Some part of him was inseparably entwined with hers in a bonding that couldn't be described. She was looking back at him with a mention of blush in her expression. She smiled.

“The only reason I am beautiful is because you love me.” She said. She slipped her hand into his and curled up her fingers around the back of his hand. There was something about her touch that always let, what he called “her-waves” travel down his body. He braced his grip on her hands to let her feel his intimate emotions that flooded inside him. She felt complete when his emotions were conveyed to her in such a passionate manner. She was happy to be married with a guy who loved her infinitely and cared for every little emotion of her deliberately. They walked further upon the soft meadow of their backyard.

After the walk they returned to their bedroom. She switched on the TV while he was preparing a PowerPoint presentation on his laptop. She put on some random news channel and approached him. “Baby, tomorrow’s Sunday!” she said to him keenly. “Thanks for the update.” He responded in a witty manner. She smiled and this was the kind of smile that always messed up with his emotional self and made him fall for her every single time. He understood what she was trying to convey to him via that smile. “Dear Angel, may I have the audacity to ask you to come along with me on a date?” he asked. “Yes sure. I am all yours. You may take me anywhere you desire to.” She replied and hugged him the very next moment. In his ears she spoke, “I love you.” He adjusted her hair behind her left ear and said, “I know that.”

She was still embracing him when her eyes wedged the sight of the news highlights flashing on the television screen. As she reached out for the remote control their bodies segregated. She upturned the volume. The reporter was giving out an update on a rape case that had chanced about nine months ago. It was considerably the most devastating rape case that this country had ever faced. The rapists not only had raped the girl but had also physically injured her in the most disturbing manner possible. Only a few days after the rape had happened there was a wave of social awakening spread all across the country. The news spread like wildfire and swayed people to come out of their houses for a cause.  There were candle-lit marches held by people all across the country, there were protests focussing on the agenda of women safety in the country and sentencing the convicted to be punished under the law. It was a massive movement of a country as a whole.

The four remaining adult defendants were found guilty of rape and murder and are sentenced to death by hanging. - Spoke up the reporter. “Oh, finally the judiciary is putting the girl’s soul to justice.” She said. “These guys deserved the most painful death imaginable!” He exclaimed. “Yes! I wonder what the girl’s fault was. She did not go and dance naked in front of those guys to provoke them to rape her with such hostility.” She said in an annoying tone. “The girl was returning from a movie with a friend of hers. It is a girl’s choice to go to any place and moreover it was not even more than 9 in the evening.” She said. There was a certain resentment in the way she was talking. He nodded his head in agreement. “What?” she asked, her volume raised. “No I mean, yes those guys and their thinking must have been pathetic to commit such a monstrous crime.” He said. She adjusted her skirt to raise her legs and crossed them to sit comfortably on the bed. “Hey I need to ask you something!” she said to him. “Yes ask.” He said. “Do you men always have sex on your mind?” she asked. “No.” He replied with a grin spread across his lips. “But at this moment I do want to make love to you.” He said. He shifted his body towards her and kept his hands on her shoulders. She lowered her eyelashes and smiled. He reached out to the switchboard alongside the bed and turned the lights off.

It was a beautiful morning the next day. “Baby how do I look?” she asked him, her hands resting on her waist. She was wearing a red coloured floral print frock that ended just above her knees. Her hair, untied and on one side of her head added to her magnificence. Almost fifteen seconds had passed away while he was still looking at her with his jaw dropped to the ground. “You are looking splendid.” He replied in excitement. She felt overjoyed. He continued, “I can’t stop looking at you right now. And your eyes. You have the most amazing eyes I have ever seen. You are looking very pretty. That dress looks amazing on you.” “Thank you!” she almost sang it in excitement. “You are looking very handsome as well sweetie!” she said in a whiny tone. She proceeded towards her cupboard to get herself a pair of matching bellies. Amongst all the praising somewhere deep within he felt that he wanted to say something to her.

“Hey babe!” he called out to her. “Yes.” She replied, turning towards him. She was sitting down on a bean bag trying to fit her legs into the bellies. He walked up to her and pointed towards her bosom. “What?” she asked wondering what he meant. “Don’t you think they are exposed too much for a place where there will be other men as well?” he asked. The neck of her dress was not too deep but deep enough to let the upper part of her bosom peep out of it but it wasn’t with any hint of obscenity. She looked cute. “What?” she spoke up startled with his weird question. “See I am not against showing a little part of your cleavage. It’s not wrong to wear what you think makes you look good. I know it’s sexy but then you have to understand that there are some pervert men out there whose attention diverts to such attires. And trust me you would never want to face these men alone in a piece of clothing which arouses them. Are you getting me?” he finished with a question. She did not utter a single word and was staring right at his face. She had already dropped the bellies on the ground while he was still speaking. Her face was struck with a wave of bewilderment and her eyes were wide open. There was an awkward silence that filled the entire room.

“What are you talking about!” she bawled. “I am wearing a decent dress and its neck is in fashion nowadays. And by the way we will be in the car all day driving across the nearby cities and by the evening we will be in a five star restaurant. So you see I am not wearing this dress to a place like a fish-market. I have lived in this country for almost as long as you have been and I am in a good understanding of a girl’s decorum.” She continued. “Rapists do not come with cautionary signs dear. Moreover a dress that exposes your legs and your bosoms can be a major pull for them anyway.” He said. It was obdurate of him to say things like these to her, she thought. She was baffled seeing this side of her husband. “I don’t understand from where is the topic of rape and rapists coming up?” she asked. “Of course your dress gave birth to it.” He replied.

The moment was heating up in a negative manner. She was getting furious. “Are you in your senses?” she asked, infuriated with his talks. “Why will I be raped for wearing a decent dress while going out with my husband? Also I am not walking down a deserted street after sunset or flaunting my body parts to some random weird looking perverts.” She said. Her voice was raised beyond a level of compassion. “I am not trying to cart off your liberty but all I am saying is that why you can’t avoid wearing dresses which include publicity of your body parts! The men who are not used to look at women this way might get provoked and rape you.” He said. “Are you out of your mind?” she nearly yelled. Before he could open up his mouth to talk further she started talking. “Mister! First of all rapists don’t rape a women due to the kind of dress she wears. Because if this was the case then may be my male friends with whom I party would have raped me by now.” She said. “Err…” he was about to say something but she cut him and continued. “The thought to rape a woman is a disease that originates in the minds of depraved men themselves. If a man can be sick enough to rape a woman to satisfy his libido then trust me, he might rape an old lady wearing a saree, as well. It has got nothing to do with what a woman wears but what a man thinks. And some men are pathetic to such an extent that they can be more horrible than the Satan himself.” She finished. She was mad at him.

“You know what! Keep arguing over this with me instead of trying to understand what I am trying to say.” He said, exasperated with her responses. “Actually I have very well understood whatever you meant to say and I wonder how a person well-educated like you are, can talk utter rubbish like this. Now I don’t want you to say anything more. Plus I am not going out with you anywhere now.” She said, picking up the bellies she had dropped a few instants ago. He watched her placing her bellies back into the wardrobe. He walked up to her and said, “Listen baby, we don’t need to spoil our date. Let’s go. Wear whatever you like.” “Shut up! I am not going and that’s my final word. Now if you will just let me change?” she almost fired her words at him.

They did not go on a date nor did they talk to each other for the entire day. She was still annoyed about the conversation they had in the morning. After having a conversation-less dinner they both went to their bedroom to doze off. He was preparing the final slides of his presentation when he saw her stepping out of the washroom. She was wearing a full length pyjama and a full sleeved shirt buttoned up to her neck. He looked at her with a “whatever” gaze and continued to work. She too did not start any sort of talk and went to sleep.

His presentation was a success. The board of directors loved it and he received a candid appreciation from them as well. He was pleased about it. His office was a kilometre away from the nearest metro station so he had to take a walk. It was seven in the evening and the sky was losing the sunlight. He was thinking about the fight he had with his wife the previous day. Some men are filthy in their thoughts and actions but then the filthiness of these men is brought out by the skimpy dresses women wear. Rapes can be avoided by wearing dresses suiting the atmosphere you are going to be in. But if you are putting your body on showcase then you are actually inviting the rapist to feast upon you - he thought. His thought was interrupted by an agonising shout from the alley right across the street. It seemed to be a female voice to him. He clogged right there and looked around. The street was deserted. A pink coloured bike with a basket was lying on the ground and near it was a bag. He walked up to the bike and picked up the bag. There was a Barbie printed on it. It was dark in the alley. He took his phone out while walking in and switched on the flash.

What he saw, swept the ground from beneath him. There was a man almost his age who had restrained down a girl not older than ten years, on ground and his hands were caressing the girl’s thigh. He was taken aback. His eyes almost popped out in astonishment and blood flushed to his face raging him. The man released the girl from his clutch as soon as the light bathed him. “Leave the girl right now or I will chop your head off your body!” he screamed at the top of his voice running towards them. The man stood up and climbed over the fence at the end of the alley and ran away before he could get there. The girl was crying. He looked through the fence but the man had vanished into the darkness.

“Please don't behave the same way the bad uncle was behaving” she said in a terrified tone. “I want to go home.” She spoke up again. He was going to caress the girl’s head but he decided not to touch the girl after what had happened because by doing so he might scare the girl.  “Are you okay? You are not hurt right?” he asked her. “Yes uncle I am not hurt!” she replied sobbing. They walked out of the alley into the street and he picked up her bike and held up her bag. “Give me your parents’ number and let me call them.” He said to the girl. She had hanged the bag on her shoulders and was adjusting herself on her bike. “I don't remember the number.” The girl said. “No problem. Can I convoy you to your home?” he asked the girl. The girl looked at him wondering if he would do something nasty with her as well. But then all of a sudden the girl smiled and nodded her head upside down. He smiled back. “Where were you headed off alone?” he asked. “I was returning from my coaching, uncle. Today my best friend had a bad throat so I had to be alone.” She replied. She got off the bike and started walking with him, dragging her bike along. “Where is your home, beta?” he asked her. “It's two blocks away from here.” She replied. “Next time don’t go home by this route. It’s deserted here and bad people live here. Always go by the main road where there are good people. Remember it the next time you go to your coaching. Okay?” he said.

“How old are you?” he asked. “I am eleven years old.” She replied, smiling. “Uncle, why did the bad uncle touch me on the wee-wee?” the girl asked him. His heart skipped a beat listening to what the girl finished asking. He felt embarrassed and anger fumed within him at the same time. He wanted to kill that man that very instant. How could a man be so filthy to do something as sinful as that to an eleven year old? - He thought. He could not think of an explanation to the innocent question of the little girl. “The bad uncle wanted to hurt you. He always hurts good children like you. Do tell your momma about what happened today and never ever let anyone touch you on your wee-wee!” he said. “Okay!” she said and they walked further.

He was sitting in the metro and thinking about the girl he had dropped off at her home a few minutes ago. He was furious with the possibility of a man’s thirst for sexual pleasures. He could not envision, even in his worst nightmare what he had seen today. How could anyone even think of doing such a monstrous act with a little girl? - He thought and shuddered. He recalled the girl’s innocent face and felt abysmal about what he saw the man doing with her. It was upsetting. Tears rolled down from his eyes.

It was eleven in the night and he and his wife were about to sleep. He hadn’t talked to her yet thinking about the appalling incident. He turned towards her and kept his hands on her shoulder. She removed his hands. She heard him sobbing and turned towards him. It was dark. She moved her hands all over his face and felt his eyes. They were wet. Forgetting whatever had happened amongst them she worriedly asked him, “What happened baby?” He sobbed again and slid his hands into hers. She held his hands firmly in response. “I am sorry! Sorry about the way I talked to you yesterday. Sorry about the things I said. Sorry about the thoughts my words expressed. I was wrong.” He said. She wiped off his tears and held him closely. “It’s okay.” She said and hugged him tight.