This locale had always offered him utmost solitude.
He would come to his 'Allah' to seek eternal peace.
But today, the floor here had turned into a mirror for him. The black tiles reflected all the dark, itchy side of his life that he always wanted to get rid of and the white resembled the bright future he always wished for.
For Jihad actually meant, 'The spiritual struggle within oneself against sin'..
Lying alone, on the golden grains of the land, he looked up at the vibrant colors that had filled the canvas of the sky. The pale glow of the moon had begun to show, leaving him in a state of melancholy.
''Happy anniversary, love!!''
''See, I kept my promise of celebrating our 1st anniversary at the seashore," exclaimed Hari, looking at the picture of his deceased wife, Lata.
(''I wished you had listened to me and driven slow on that unfortunate night.")
The jukebox played, ''An empty bottle, a broken heart, and you're still on my mind..." .
It was raining heavily, when Radha called her best friend, her college mate and asked her to meet at their patent corner.
She was sounding very tensed.
Mary left her house and rushed to the place to check what was wrong.
It was a dark evening. The firmament was dim and the deep blue sea looked fickle.
Radha had fixed her eye towards the ocean when she exclaimed,
'I am Pregnant'.