DATING AFTER DEATH - Final with reviews

She called out again but there was no response. Her heartbeat went up and she panicked. Riya didn’t know what to do, her hands and legs were shivering, and she was barely able to walk. She stood up with great difficulty and was about to cross the road when her ears caught a screech and her eyes witnessed a car going out of control. The car was coming at her and she stood still with fear in her eyes. Riya was gleaming with happiness as she reached the restaurant. She quickly rushed to the restroom to check if she needed any touch up. Riya saw Rohan sitting on the table beside the pool, waiting for her. She cherished watching him from that distance. Riya walked up to him; his smile made her fall for him. She hugged Rohan and whispered into his ears… “I was eagerly waiting for this moment. Thanks for making it so special” Rohan replied, “Anything for you my sweetheart.” Rohan had arranged for an extravagant spread, keeping in mind their love for food and they relished the food as much as they looked each other into the eyes. No words spoken; Their eyes revealed what they felt for each other. His hand caressed hers, his lips kissed hers. Riya sensed the eternal love they possessed for each other and the ambience to connote the love was ideal. Riya and Rohan could not have had an exceptional abode; the paradise. Divya Venkateswaran 238

SHWETHA RAMACHANDRAN Shwetha Ramachandran lives in Denver, Colorado, United States. She is a Certified Public Accountant (CPA) in the US and is working as an Accountant in a private company. Her hobbies include dancing and cooking. Her recent interest is in fitness and learning about healthy lifestyle. She has also learnt Carnatic Music and has performed at various events and won many prizes. In her free time, she likes to experiment cooking different cuisines at home with fresh ingredients. In the past, she has worked as a content writer, editor and proofreader for a small company based in Delhi. She has written on varied topics requiring SEO content. 239

RENDEZVOUS IN HEAVEN Drenching in the rain unable to take my eyes off him, My hands tightly clasped on to his, I stand there oblivious of the passage of time. I feel his warmth despite the cold raindrops rolling down my skin. His touch takes me through a myriad of feelings in my mind, They are not unlike the romantic kind. What is going to happen next are the thoughts that arise, And suddenly we look each other eye to eye. My heart starts beating at its peak as he gazes at me, Just as he comes closer, I start overflowing with glee. Anticipation is killing me at this very moment, I would not lie but I am loving this infringement. In no time his lips are closer to mine, I almost stop breathing at this moment in time. As chills run down my spine, I wait to encounter bliss, Quick as a wink, he endeavors a kiss. I look down and quietly smile with joy, Moving away as I turn coy. He holds my hand with a firm grip, Conveying to me a clue as not to exit. An unforgettable evening it turned out to be, Such a date I did not foresee. 240

We never made it to the date while on earth, Which was more painful than the mishap that hurt? Did this just happen, I fail to understand, Life never moves as we plan. The cloudy and damp night was a curse, But the date turned out to be more than a rehearse. Up in the sky, I fell in his arms, Not knowing death was our lucky charm. Shwetha Ramachandran 241

POOJA SANT Pooja Sant is currently a stay-at-home mom living in the UAE. She has worked in the education services industry as a voice and accent evaluator and operations executive for over twelve years. She is passionate about cooking, reading, movies and now writing and also has a flair for learning new languages. A happy-go-lucky soul, she loves cracking witty jokes and bringing a smile on the faces of her loved ones. She looks forward to an exciting writing journey!! 242

LOVE IN THE TIMES OF CORONAVIRUS…. \"It is a bad time to die!” thought Roohi as the masked doctors spoke to her parents about her slim chances of survival. She knew that the end was near, but nobody is prepared to die! Three years back, Roohi was diagnosed with leukemia in her first year of college. As expected, it came as a shock for Roohi and her family. Being the only child of her parents, she always took it upon herself to make them proud and happy. Today, as she lay in her hospital bed, overhearing her mother whimper, she mustered up the courage to greet her with a heartwarming smile. She even decided, that she would ask them to get her, her favorite blueberry cheesecake on their next visit. And so, the days passed by... On the 24th of June 2020, amidst thousands of deaths due to COVID-19, Roohi too bade her final goodbye to her family. She had only joked or read about afterlife and did not really believe in it. But, when she ultimately reached 'the final destination', it looked like nothing she had ever imagined. Although, the grief of never being able to be with her loved ones was killing her, she was surprised to see that unlike you see in the movies, you are not transported to this new place like heaven or hell beyond the sky. She was still in Mumbai, in this parallel world where nobody from the real world could see or feel her presence. Neither could she fly like in Harry Potter stories. The happy-go-lucky person that she was, Roohi decided to explore her new life until God decided to send her back amongst the ‘living’, may be as a cat or a toad or a human being (if she got lucky). Just when she was ruminating on these thoughts, she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see her Biology professor Jatin Shah. They were surprised to learn that they could communicate like normal people. They shared their stories with each other about how they landed there. While Roohi’s illness was known to most faculty members at her college, Jatin was an introvert and did not share much except that he died of coronavirus infection. Roohi and Jatin decided to move around the city since they had nothing much to do. They did not feel hungry or thirsty. Nor did they get tired of walking. So, they went to Roohi’s place in Andheri East to see her devastated family mourning her death 243

alone, due to the lockdown. Then they went to Jatin’s place in Lokhandwala. Roohi was surprised to see his plush apartment where he lived with his parents, sister and pet Boski. For a moment she felt that Boski couldn’t see her, but then it started howling looking in their direction. That’s when she thought, “Now this, I’ve seen in movies! So, it is true that dogs can feel and react to the presence of spirits or the unknown”. Jatin had this expressionless face and did not change even after he saw his mother and sister performing some rituals for him with tears in their eyes. His father was in Dubai for some work and was not able to make it back to India even for his last rites. After a few days, Jatin finally spoke. He said, “You know why I didn’t utter a word at my place the other day? I am angry with my father because he had asked me to go to his friend’s place to collect some documents and mail it to him. That’s how I got the infection and eventually reached here.” Roohi had a sense of respect towards Jatin and wanted to empathize with him, but what came out from her mouth was what she truly felt… “Jatin (he had recently asked her not to call him Sir), your Dad loves you more than his life, and would never have sent you there had he foreseen this happening”. Her honest words irritated Jatin and hurt him at first, but when he thought more rationally about it, it made sense. Roohi made him realize that they have to accept things the way they were. After all there wasn’t much that they could do about it. Slowly, they realized that they liked each other and could talk endlessly about myriad topics like movies, animals, nature, and philanthropy. They realized that though they were two very contrasting personalities, they had many common interests. So, they often went to houses where a good movie was playing (since movie theatres had shut during lockdown). They usually ended up at a house with pets, so their dual interests were met. The pets always barked at them initially, and later calmed down and sat next to them. And that’s how they fell in love with each other and spent whatever time they had on the other side! Pooja Sant 244

SHEILA BHATTACHARYA Sheila Bhattacharya lives in Mumbai, with her family of charming free-spirited individuals. She has been teaching English for what seems forever. She seems to survive on daily dose of ‘theatre of the Absurd’ classroom drama, this provides her with both inspiration and a great deal material to work with – fiction, as you know, can never beat life in interesting coincidences! She loves all forms of literature, particularly the ‘snarky’ ones that tickles one’s mind and makes one smile. She may be reached on [email protected] 245

THE COFFEE DATE Kaira felt warm, wholesome sitting there with him; close enough to feel the mist of his breath as he sighed, her fingers entwined round his coffee cup brushing his long, strong ones as he raised it to his lips with a thoughtful unwavering look. This was another perfect date for them. She snuggled up to him uncaring of the watching eyes, planted a breathy kiss on his cheek and ruffled her hands through his soft curls- her eyes twinkling with laughter as he absent-mindedly brushed his cheek. His focus unwavering as always … It was her ritual. She waited quietly in the shadows of the tall palm fronds that lined the café front, tumbling out the moment she heard the soft squishy sound of his sneakers on the tiled patio. She unabashedly put her arms into his as he opened the door and slipped into the corner table, close the service counter- his favourite corner She loved him fearlessly, maybe ferociously, with a passion that was truly otherworldly. He wasn’t good-looking in the conventional sense- he had a well-kept expensive air of affluence that sat well with his sultry complexion, soft features and dark, dark enormous eyes that sparkled! Yes, he was the perfect example of intelligence being sexy! He wouldn’t have given her a thought earlier but now she had him all to herself. She didn’t care what others saw and thought, he was hers! And she claimed him with a possessiveness that almost shocked her – when had she, this nondescript reader of poetry, shy, emotional mess become so bold? But it didn’t matter, they were together and that was how it was going to stay… He sighed, it was a deep ‘inner-longing’ drawn out sigh and it caught her attention immediately. What disturbed him? was it despair? Did he no longer want these quiet evenings together? 246

She had to figure this out on her own. She couldn’t let this relationship slip away like she had done to the others. It mustn’t end in tears and a sense of repairable loss. She remembered the stretcher rolling away and emptiness that filled the space between. All she could think of was not letting Neil know that she loved him and not saying goodbye. No! She was determined not to allow that to happen again. She curled up behind his neck, grazing his soft skin tenderly and followed his gaze… He flinched a little at her touch, brushing away the unseen presence like he always did. This time she noticed; her forehead furrowed intensely, trying to focus on the object of his gaze! There she was, yes, she too was a regular visitor; Kiara had seen her sitting alone at a table near the service counter- she was there yet again! Of course! Like a flash, it dawned on Kiara the mystery of his choice of table- he could watch her… he was stalking her! Well, Kiara had to admit, they were so similar- She didn’t she stalk him! Maybe, that is what shy souls do. They sit and wait for tiny signs – a hint of a smile, a nod of acknowledgement –crumbs of emotions that are left behind for them to hold onto because they are scared to demand more. And then, in a sudden screech of brakes and frightening crunch of metal it is all over! Yes, those memories came rushing back to Kiara … the smell of her own blood, the discordant sounds of sirens, the flashing lights… Neil’s voice fading in and out ‘hurry! we are losing her’ She had reached out her hand, painful and mangled, to hold him as he carried her in his arms, whispering ‘I love you’ softly. She had longed to say it back to him, tell him how much she loved being in his arms, but that came out were inarticulate gurgles and she could feel her strength sapping out of her. 247

What was that mist, strange haze that was blocking her vision? She felt the coldness of the starched sheets, the whiteness of sheets began to envelope her, she tried to say something, she wasn’t sure what… the sounds seemed to fade away and it was all gone in a whiff! She saw him again, sitting and staring out the window, hollow eyed and shaken – she sat next to him and reached out, but he saw her no more. It was all over, even before it began! This time it will be different, she promised herself. Kiara watched her as she bent over some old receipts; her coffee complexion glowing under tinted lights, she flicked thick glossy hair back and Kiara caught a glimpse of her kohl lined eyes, limpid and eloquent at the same time. She was beautiful! She had turned to work on her laptop. It was Kiara’s Carpe Diem moment, she rushed across the room, stirring up a storm that left him looking confused and others staring in wonder. In a wild frenzy to get her attention, Kiara shook up the table till the receipts floated all over the room, and a couple that wafted across to his corner. He was up in a flash, picking up the receipts as she rushed across to catch them. And they met … ‘Are these yours as well?’- Kiara smiled broadly at his confidence ‘Yes, thank you – I don’t know where that wind came from, made such a mess’ her voice gentle but exasperated – Kiara laughed so loudly that she was sure they would hear! ‘Did you say something? I didn’t quite hear you?’ She asked He hesitated for just a moment ‘Will you have coffee with me?’ Kiara floated away … because when you love somebody, you don’t just set them free, you nudge them in the right direction! Cheesy but true. Sheila Bhattacharya 248

Lover’s Thoughts A wind rustles through leaves And Whispers through the window. A shadow reaching out into the world so hard and real. The moon slides across the sky Like a pebble on a frosty floor… I flit into your space Softly, stirring the cat and stoking the flames of the gas stove brewing your fragrant coffee. I rush to embrace you As you stare vacantly, as photographs flicker on your screen. You shiver… Is it rapturous joy or is it a cold melancholy? I will never know- You shut that tiny window of space In my face Where is our love- Is it the dusty memories we left behind - Lost forever in the parting? Or is it felt in the stars, pebbles and the ocean waves, that encompass us both with eternal joy. Sheila Bhattacharya 249

SREELAKSHMI IYER Sreelakshmi Iyer, from Thane, is an educator, a poet, a writer, a classical dancer, a blogger and an orator. With a post-graduate degree in English Literature and Education, she is a Master Trainer for CBSE Teachers’ In-service Programmes in the Western Zone. Her sweet demeanour and her ability to accelerate the lesson beyond the limits of her textbook, makes her, her students’ favourite. Passionate about mythology, theatre and art, she also takes classes and conducts workshops on personality development, drama and public speaking for children. Her writings draw inspiration from the Indian Culture and Philosophy and are interspersed with her own impressions and expressions. She can be contacted on [email protected] 250

THE NIGHT TRAIN AT ELAN VITAL “I prefer to keep hoping and dreaming and looking out of the window up and down that lovely platform, waiting for the girl with the baskets. I never break my journey at Deoli, but I pass through as often as I can...” • Ruskin Bond (The Night Train at Deoli) • Maybe because I was a writer, the Universe chose to send me to heaven. The journey to heaven is a beautiful one and each soul stops at this junction called Élan Vital. It’s a city, very far away from earth, built for those people who couldn’t live life to its fullest and here, in between two lives, the souls could live their unfulfilled dreams After reliving the dreams, the soul proceeds on its journey. I was finally at this celestial place and a lot of people came to my memory. The people at Dehra, my grandmother, my school pals, but there was one memory that I always held close to my heart and that was about the graceful girl selling baskets at Deoli. I sat there on a bench; this place did resemble the earthly countryside without human settlements, of course. I didn’t seem to remember my age and I had numerous questions popping up in my mind with no human around to answer. ‘Who brought me here? Am I old or young? How did I die? Do I look handsome still or unsightly?’ As I was trying to figure out answers to these, suddenly- “So, do you still have the basket you bought from me?” said a voice from behind. I turned around and lo! there she was! She still had that shawl thrown across her shoulders, her skin was pale, and her black shiny hair- made her look like an angel whom I could never forget. I felt a pressing urge to hug her, but her troubled eyes stopped me. I could see an ocean of melancholy in them, wanting to ask me a million questions. I held her by her hand and looked at her intently. “Why didn’t you wait for me at Deoli, dear one?” I asked her with the same eagerness and excitement of a teenager. “Because I was waiting for you here. And wasn’t I still with you all through your journey on earth?” she asked 251

“Indeed, you were. And I am so glad I met you here. Maybe this is what it means to rest in peace…” I replied, still gazing into her eyes. She smiled, as if to tell me that she had found her peace after many years. I did not ask her what happened to her while I was at Delhi. I did not care to know if she ever got married. For now, that did not matter to me. I found comfort in her tenderness and her grace and elegance was an assuagement to my soul. How many human years did I spend with her at Élan Vital, I have no idea, for there, we have no absolute terms like day and night. However, it was definitely more dazzling and enticing than any fairy-tale. We would walk, hand in hand, in the ethereal gardens of this otherworldly place, for hours, and stop once in a while to look at each other and in her eyes, I would see her urge to feel my warm embrace. She never spoke much but there was an empyrean snugness in her silence. There was strength in her vulnerability, and I found abundance in the insubstantial time that life had given me with her, or rather, death. At Élan Vital, we were free from the trammels of material pleasures and all I knew was love. Her love, so unalloyed and maidenly that I longed to stay there forever. Though frail by constitution, she did have the fortitude to live all by herself. However, I found myself dependent on her for our story of a blameless romance from which I was seeking solace and tranquility. I don’t know if life was beautiful or if it was death that added pulchritude to the life that we were living there. Then as all good things come to an end, we had to leave Élan Vital and proceed to Heaven. Heaven knew no human love and these feelings would cease to exist once we reached there. Our love, nevertheless, would evolve into a more divine form of itself but there indeed is mortal joy in this human love. I cupped her face in my palms, gently kissed her and looked at her for one last time and my heart knew the pain. It was the similar one, a familiar one- the one that I felt at the dimly lit railway platform of Deoli, as I had to wrench my hand away from her and run towards my train… Sreelakshmi Iyer 252

PUSHPANJALI A. PATIL Ms. Pushpanjali A. Patil (M.A.,M. Ed. Eng. Lit.) Has done her master's in English Literature and also in Educational Research and Technology. She qualified SET examination in 2017 and has been working as an Assistant Teacher in Smt.N.G.Purandare High School and Jr. college in Mulund West since last 12 years. She finds herself in drawing, painting and creative writing. 253

A RENDEZVOUS A languid dawn yawned and spread its limbs lethargically across the crimson sky. She woke up, in the midst of nature's choir, as if from a deep slumber with a new lease of life like a lily pure and white. Peace so unadulterated, bliss so unfraught she had never known. She quivered for a moment and realized that she had walked miles before she went gently into that good night. A lot remained unsettled and undone though. And at an inopportune moment, Death laid his icy hands upon her... Amidst wails… and tributes overflowing with wreaths of flowers, she died a happy death and landed peacefully at the Ultimate Abode. For the promises unkept and ties broken; for the songs unsung and wounds unhealed, far from the madding crowd and beyond the cacophony of earthlings, she kept gliding gaily like a feather... light and carefree with the eastern wind towards the unknown land… Amidst the dense forest, under the huge banyan tree, nestled in arms, stood a temple, withered yet upright, like a solitary seeker, there...along the brookside beneath the blue sky, she had a tryst with him. And she waited for him, holding her little heart leaping and bouncing like a lonely fish, now riding on a mighty wave, then merging in massive abundance. And she pined for him...humming softly a forbidden tune sending ripples onto the quiet waters...like a lonely lass in wilderness looking for her lost love. She smiled as if in a dream, lingering her slender fingers through the tangles as if to untie the knots of memories. She had known him - a shy, reticent, spectacled guy - all for facts and figures, stoic and stubborn having eagle's ambition soaring high where even sky wasn't the limit. 254

And she had been a dove eyed dreamy damsel like a wildflower swaying gently with the wayward wind... and waddling sometimes along the seashore bidding adieu to the setting sun. Thus, the waiting continued… And he did come like a soft drizzle on a parched land after the scorching heat of long summer. She hadn't thought it possible ever on earth. An unprecedented youthful joy stirred her. But he stood still gazing at the distant mountains. The ambience around brimmed with an awkward silence - pregnant and plump, restless and punctuated. They met and so did their eyes, like two travellers in the forbidden territory looking for each other. The delicate web of fine lines and subtle signs of dead times evoked a montage of a torn tale with hundred patches and thousand stitches. Mystic aroma of virgin blossoms rekindled a shapeless passion that enveloped both. A long session of silence. And suddenly they burst into laughter, winking mischievously at the silver lock peeping through the dark clouds cascading down her shoulders and the grey strand popping out of his barren land. And thus, they laughed minutes together until tears welled up. Quiet ocean in his deep eyes and a noiseless charm of her serene smiles spoke volumes. Words seemed so vacant and inadequate. Yet a lot was heard that he never said. Now...he wore a stranger's solemnity. How deeply she yearned to transcend it but his supreme stoicity refrained her. Time kept dripping in momentous droplets. She couldn't be on a mute mode any longer and broke the frozen ice. How are you? 'How is everyone? etc. He answered in monosyllables, 255

Some, he didn't even respond to. She gazed and he escaped deftly as usual and mumbled something reluctantly. All empty it seemed. Aren't whispers more powerful than the vacant talk? He conveyed...Silence is much better. The whispered sweet nothings of winged creatures, so unearthly, punctured the deafening silence and the unheard symphony from the unknown band unsettled snowflakes of memories. His lips quivered as if to say something…He gathered himself, cleared the throat and talked about the bulls and bears, and booms and dooms of stock markets. And he talked endlessly about the hits and misses and the heights he scaled and the ways he mended and the glam and glory of conjugal bliss… She listened to it with the calmness of a sculpture, dead and beautiful. Minutes ticked by. 'Please don't mind but I must leave.' he said. She sighed heavily… and said gazing at him intently, ‘We'll never meet again, So, I want your answer for a question that haunted me all this time.' 'Are those days of ours that we lived and spent, and the tales we wove all gone...and gone forever? Is nothing left? He was silent for a while. Then said, pointing towards the dilapidated temple, 'Dear me, it has survived many seasons of heaven and hell and the flame kept burning despite the winds and waves … We all cherish the broken temple in our heart and an old flame burns in the inner shrine. 256

All the stars of the night remain under the glare of the day…Death separates and destroys and kills lives yet love lives.' He felt he had made it all. And she saw a twig of green love peeping out of crannies and crevices wide and imagined the thousand splendid suns rising in his eyes would end the dark sleepless night forever and ever. And the journey continued... Ms. Pushpanjali Ajit Patil 257

PARVATHI RAMACHANDRAN Parvathi Ramachandran has an experience of over 30 years in the teaching profession. At present, she is working as the Head of one of the leading schools of Delhi. She has a passion for singing and participates in various cultural programes. Of late, she is engaged in learning Sanskrit and has cleared her first level with a distinction. She is also upgrading her love for music by taking classes in music. 258

LOVE ETERNAL Standing at the entrance of the temple, Kavya's eyes fell on the man who brushed past her. \"Was he Manoj sir?\", she thought to herself. She narrowed her eyes to confirm if she was right. Yes, it was him. She dragged her infirm legs to get to him. Age had bowed her down. With great struggle she went near him and said, \"Manoj sir, how are you?\" Her heart was beating fast. She could feel the vibration. But why? \"Hello kavya, how come you are here?”, he asked her, perplexed. \"I have come to visit my aunt who is bed-ridden\", she replied. \"And you? \", she was more than excited to see him. \"I have come here for a marriage; I will be here for a week\", he replied. They came out of the temple and sat beside the pond. For some time, there was silence and only their eyes were speaking. Kavya could not let her heart out. Something was suffocating her. She left, promising to meet him the next day. On reaching home, she locked herself in her room and wept bitterly. She was meeting him after thirty years. Her 'First Crush'. She felt he looked more handsome in his grey hair. Absolutely no change, the same old smiling face with a lot of compassion, tinkling in his eyes. Manoj was also sailing in the same boat. His thoughts encircled around Kavya. “She has matured far beyond her age. Her beautiful, broad eyes have shrunk. How beautiful she looked in her school days”, he thought. Destiny has changed her completely. The next day when they met, they exchanged a lot many incidents of their lives. He told her about his children who were all settled abroad. And she about her solitary life. Together they found a happy evening time. Both looked happy and cheerful. After parting, he saw Kavya talking to an auto driver. Curious to know about their conversation, Manoj approached the driver. He said that she wanted to visit a temple on the hilltop. Perhaps she could not afford the expenses. She had denied him. 259

Manoj fastened his steps and reached out to Kavya. \"Tomorrow I am thinking of visiting the devi temple on the hill-top. You can accompany me if you are comfortable.\" he said. Her joy knew no bounds and she readily agreed. The next day as they were on their way to the temple, she could not control herself passing glances at Manoj. It was the same the other side also. She remembered the day, when she was cheered by the audience for the melodious performance, she gave for the Annual Day celebration. Her eyes were roving to see Manoj sir. But he was not there. As she turned her back to go to the backstage, she saw him standing there with a look of adoration on his face. Their eyes met for a while. Manoj was in a dilemma and pretended as if he was giving instructions to the students. Manoj was a handsome, young science teacher and kavya was in her eleventh standard. His modus operandi of teaching made children swarm around him like bees. He was patient, compassionate, and dealt with all their problems calmly. Kavya started developing a special feeling for him. One day she gathered courage and went to his house in the evening on the pretext of clearing some doubts. During the process of learning, she touched his hands, as though accidentally. Reciprocation from the other side made her bolder. Soon kavya could be seen with sir after school hours. She very clearly remembered the day when everything went topsy-turvy. She was about to step out of the house with some books in her hand, when her father's harsh words stopped her, \" Where are you going?\" her father questioned her. \"I have some doubts to clear. I am going to Manoj sir's house “, she replied. \"No need\", he said, his voice turning sterner. \"Stay away from that loafer\" and he moved into his room. Kavya ran into her room, tear drops falling on her book. That put a restriction on their meeting. After her board exams, she could hardly meet sir. She would spend long hours thinking about him. She got the news that Manoj sir was transferred to another district. With great difficulty she managed to meet him once. Both were at dead ends to discuss anything about the future. 260

It so happened that after a few years Kavya's father expired, leaving a pile of debts to his credit. They lost everything and she and her mother started living in a rented house. Her mother started looking for an alliance, but nothing clicked. Her mother also followed her father, and she was left alone in this world. Thankfully she had the job of a teacher in a small school. Her cousin sister who was in Chennai invited her, as she was also alone there. Finally, Kavya moved to Chennai. \"We are nearing the temple\", Manoj sir said. Seeing no reaction from her side, he gently touched her arms. She woke up, as if from a dream. \"What were u thinking of? “He asked her. \"Nothing sir\" she replied placidly. After visiting the temple, they sat down near a brook. Kavya felt tired as they had to hike to reach the temple. In the midst of conversation, Manoj asked her as to why she did not get married. She brushed away the topic. Further he enquired, why had she rejected the proposal brought by Narayan sir. She replied, “Somehow I did not think I was fit for him.\" Manoj sir continued, “Kavya, he had brought my proposal, but u did not allow him to speak a word and refused further discussion.\" Kavya felt a heavy bomb being dropped on her. \"What a folly I have done.\" She thought to herself. But bygones are bygones. Having said this, she turned towards Manoj Sir. Her foot slipped “. Manoj sir\", she gave a loud cry. Her hand stretched towards him, seeking help. He caught her hand, and both went rolling down. The rugged terrain tore them, and they landed with a thud on a plane surface. They were bleeding profusely. The forest officials did their best to save them, but they failed. Kavya was lying in Manoj sir's lap. His hands fondling her curly hair. Their romantic conversation went on for hours. Her hands encircling his neck, she was mesmerized by his kisses. She was in the other world, where she needed only him - her Manoj sir. Parvathi Ramachandran 261

Dr. VIBHANSHU DUBEY Dr Vibhanshu Dubey is a dental practitioner, who decided not to get occupied himself inside the clinic 24/7. Along with practicing he is also finding happiness by involving in various social services in the city of Rewa, Madhya Pradesh. He loves to travel around and meeting new people. He has recently developed love for writing in English and Hindi languages. He has also contributed to the Lockdown Diaries (Hindi), of the Impish Lass Publication House. 262

LOST CINDERELLA Everybody likes the story of Cinderella. She was in the arms of the Prince, in the party. The prince she always dreamt of, was looking at her, in her eyes. However, if the story would have finished here, the plot would have been average. The original story didn’t stop here. Instead the prince searched for her desperately for a long time. In fact, the search only finished when he reached in front of her. Even after many hardships the Prince found her and took her with him. However, all stories aren’t fairy tales as life is not always fair. Every story doesn’t have a perfect ending. Sometimes a prince cannot find his Cinderella at all. With passing years, the memories hurt, and one is compelled to live a miserable life. Finally, when you reach the deathbed and get surrounded by people there are few ‘Ghosts’ along with them too. These ghosts are nothing but many unfulfilled aspirations which you failed to achieve. You did not let those aspirations live hence they turned into ghosts. Now they are not going anywhere. They will remain with you, haunt you, even after your death. I too confess that I failed to become the ‘Prince’ for my ‘Cinderella’. Just like the original story, she came to me. She was fearless to break the chains of inhibitions. There was no doubt in her mind about the relationship. There was nothing which could stop her. None of her family members or friends came in the way of her path. The question was in front of me. I still remember the gaze of her innocent eyes, that were pure in conviction. However, as her ‘Prince’, I was confused. Of course, there were reasons which stopped me. It wasn’t easy for me to leave her. It was hard to choose. The family, career and various other things superimposed during that period, when I had to make my decision. “Love is a feeling that happens inside you. You meet millions of people around you. Thousands of them talk to you. Hundreds of them are related to you in one or the other way. But sometimes, there is just one who touches you and stays in your heart forever.’’ I too was fortunate to get such a special person in my life. She was like pure bliss amidst the struggles of my career. It was certainly not love at first sight, rather a very gradual phenomenon. 263

In fact, it took me almost one year to reveal my feelings to her. She too was in love but was waiting for my move. I always believed love to be a connection of hearts. Although now I realize, that this is not enough. She is still inside my heart, but she never bothers me. She has a smiling face and she never asks me why I left her. Still I feel guilty sometimes. I shouldn’t have proposed to her if I was unable to leave my world for her. I was unable to bind with her socially and legally. Surprisingly, the reasons which compelled me to step back are becoming more senseless to me, every year. And the truth is, physically we are separated. I am now looking forward to meet, all those ‘ghosts.’ I am willing to look for my Cinderella and finally date her. Dr Vibhanshu Dubey 264

SIMRAN ASNANI Simran Asnani, a poetess is an inquisitive thinker inside the body of a clumsy teenager. Being a 17-year-old student of commerce at Jai Hind College, Mumbai, she carries an analytical perspective to situations. Her beliefs are driven by her opinionated yet skeptical mind. She finds solace in her writings and they often hold an experiential point of view. She fancies travelling and adventure and has quite a taste in music. 265

THE GIRL WITH KEYCHAINS Hey there reader! I’m Christopher Young. Now I know that makes me sound like a dude from a Disney movie, so I go by Chris. This is a story of when I was 9, living on Hudson street. And here we don’t have giant skyscrapers or apartments, we got bungalows and houses. Pretty cool huh! So, like any other monotonous day, I went to the gate to collect our mail when I saw a bulky Chrysler parked outside our neighbouring house. Apparently, the old, dusty and empty house of Mrs. Pearson was being inhabited by the Felis. Family of three, lovely people. Anyway, Mr. Felis unloaded the boxes while Mrs. Felis unlocked the door and made space in the garage. Now, you’d imagine that the little girl would have her personal boxes filled with books, toys or video games. To my astonishment, Amy Felis carried a box named keychains. I wondered why someone would store a bunch load of keychains and also because the one dangling from their car key was a complete eyesore that car companies provide. I reached out to her and cracked a joke that she could organize a yard sale for her keychains since she was such a hoarder. Amy said that she wouldn’t give them out even for diamonds. Those keychains were the souvenirs of her fondest memories or places she had visited. She either had bought them from the location or had attached a keyring to an object significant to that event. I asked her which places she could’ve had possibly visited; she was just 10. But she confuted my statement because the shell on one of them was from a beach in Honolulu, Hawaii where she went snorkeling. After listening to her adventures, she seemed the perfect epitome of that modern-day trend wanderlust. She joined my school, tuitions, piano lessons, summer camp so obviously she became my best friend and also because there weren’t many kids of our age in the neighbourhood. Our room windows faced each other, so we tried making those string and cup phones for having a confidential conversation at night about our business scheme for the next lemonade stand at the fundraiser. The idea was a fail, but we had fun doing it. Ames was great at math and playing the piano, but she sucked at sports. Running even 200m rendered her gasping. In camp, she almost fainted while playing dodgeball. That’s why she carried an inhaler in her fanny pack. However, she loved watching my soccer matches and used to yell from the stands “Young Chrisie Young has a leg faster than your horses!” When my team won, we’d have PB&J sandwich party (peanut butter & jelly) in her backyard. But when we lost, let’s just say that it wasn’t exactly a party for Ames. I was a sore loser and when she’d try to cheer me up, I’d whine “Would you be happy if you were humiliated in front 266

of the entire school?” She’d say “I don’t need a victory or a reason to be happy, I just need to breathe “I never understood that so I’d just nod. The summer when I was 12, I accompanied her on a trip to France where she added a miniature Eiffel Tower keychain to her collection. Whenever I picked one of her keychains, she used to slap it out of my hand and brandish her Swiss knife at me. She never ever used her keychains or attached them to her keys. Ames was a nutjob that way. No matter how crazy, clumsy and weird she was, I felt a connection to her. Her kindness, passionate spirit and the purity of her heart overpowered any idiocy of hers. By the age of 14, I was convinced that she was my soulmate. So, we decided to go as PB&J for Halloween. As agreed, I dressed as PB and waited for her at my porch. That wait never ended. She never showed up. I ran to her porch where I found a box of her keychains. It was labelled ‘for Chrisie’. However, there was one addition. A keyring attached to her inhaler with a note that read “Breathe for me”. By inquiring around the neighbourhood, I found out that her family had left for Nebraska last night as Mr. Felis got transferred. In my abandonment I felt like I was deceived due to my naivety. A person who was an inseparable part of my life for 6 years just vanished into thin air without a simple goodbye. They say time heals everything. I grew up, left for college, leaving the bits and pieces of my childhood in that empty house. Years later, when I was 22, I returned to see my childhood home on Thanksgiving before my parents sold it. I decided to enter Amy’s old house one last time. Seeing her porch stairs, room, and attic felt like a slideshow of memories. But especially her backyard. The fragrance of mud and grass was as fresh as the day she moved in. I stepped on an old withered file of the hospital downtown by the name of Amy Felis. I called the hospital and found out that she was a patient of pulmonary fibrosis. Amy died the night after we were supposed to meet. That day I felt something break inside me. It wasn’t my heart; it was my hope. All this time away from her I hoped to see her again someday in my life. It gave me consolation that it was a possibility. At that moment it hit me that I wouldn’t see her ever again or hear her play the piano or laugh with her or look into her eyes or hug her. I removed her inhaler from my coat pocket and buried it in the ground of her backyard. I promised to breathe and live a life epic enough for the two of us. I will represent her existence in the world of living. And when it’s over, she will reach my hand out and will meet me on the other side of the horizon. Two souls who lost each other on earth will be reunited one day. Love with infinite possibilities, no restrictions. It will be eternal and forever. Simran Asnani 267

KOUSANYA DHAR Kousanya Dhar is an intuitive, bright, young woman whose passion lies in creative pursuits. She recently received her high school diploma and is now looking forward to starting her journey in university. She is an avid reader of fiction. She has been writing short stories and composing poems since the age of five and has always aspired to become a successful, published author. She has also had her works published in magazines and anthologies. She has always had a deep passion for the English language and reading and hopes to inculcate a culture of reading amongst all. Following her passion, she has initiated a social organisation – “Shelf Awareness Drive” which is a book collection and donation drive to provide books and resources to those who cannot easily access it. As part of the initiative, she has also started a virtual book club. This young entrepreneur and budding writer hopes to use the power of written and spoken words to give back to society and help those in need. 268

INTANGIBLE They say love happens at first sight; they say love takes forever. When it ends, they say it takes months to get over. To find someone new. To feel alive again… Alive. Him and I, we started young - infatuation to affection. Only to leave me hanging, stuck in a whirlpool of devastation. Fear of the unknown bound us together, but we weren’t afraid. Not afraid of losing one another. “Till death do us apart”, he had vowed. But I won’t let go. Won’t let him rest in peace, won’t let him rest at all. Not until the spirits seize us apart; Wedging the interstice between the two worlds. The discordance between the living and… Dead. “I would die for you”, he had promised. He clung to his words, and I, to his soul – I made do with what I got. Death claimed him and yet he came for me. Our cacophony of heat and passion simmered into whispers – Chilling phantasm fingers entwined around me. 269

They say love dies when we do, they say it’s hard to move on, but we must do. But why let go when we can have it forever? They say love is intangible, incomprehensible. But who says the lover can’t be too? Kousanya Dhar 270

MOUSUMEE BARUAH Ms. Mousumee Baruah, a former editor, lecturer, now a freelance writer at Gurgaon. She is a Masters in English, specialist in Commonwealth literature from Fergusson College/ University of Pune. She has participated in many anthologies and also writes articles in newspapers. She has written many short stories in her mother tongue. She has won a couple of literary awards too, apart from many online contests. Her recent contribution is to the Anthology “Mom’s the Word” by The Impish lass publishing house and two more anthologies published by the Asian Literary Society. She will publish her solo collection of poetries shortly. She is an avid painter and her hobbies include traveling and cooking. 271

HOMEMAKER-DATING WITH DEATH Sukanya is different now... Her Facebook profile goes like this, \"Homemaker\"! \"Sukanya you are a delicious cook and your pickles are just awesome.\" \"And look at your home! no house help, neat and clean. Bhaskar is really lucky.\" And Sukanya is now quite habituated listening to the lavish appreciation showered on her by people. \"Ah! quite an achievement! Once you were appreciated for your writes, right\"! A woman in the mirror sometimes taunts her. Sukanya is the youngest daughter of her parents. Her parents raised their daughters, to become independent, as they do not have sons. For the three daughters, the kitchen was a no-entry zone. But that was the story of her maiden days! Why the woman in the mirror always fretted with her, she flunked to fathom. \"Oh, your mother, did not teach you how to chop veggies?’ With this another taunting line, a new journey begins for Sukanya.... All the credit that she is an excellent cook goes to the above taunting line. On the fourth day of her married life, she heard those lines from her new home. Not so savory for her obviously. 272

She was hurt not because she did not know how to chop veggies but was hurt because her mother was dragged into it. But Bhaskar cajoled her to ignore it as they would soon leave for his workplace Mumbai. While leaving for Mumbai, at the airport, she purchased a recipe book... Once she used to buy books of Margaret Mitchell, her favourite writer. And she also brought Sukumar with her. Silently and stealthily Sukumar accompanied her. She knew she would not easily get a job at new terrain... So, she would finish all the episodes with Sukumar .... When Bhaskar would be busy with his professional life, what would she do? She did not want to be a boring wife! Apart from cooking, cleaning she decided to finish her story with Sukumar. She shall try to revive it and if possible, give Sukumar a new life, a climax. After completing all her mundane household chores, she used to chat with Sukumar. But she realized gradually that if she worked in the kitchen or was busy in some other household chores, Bhashkar never demanded her attention. But the moment she would sit with her pen and Sukumar, Bhaskar used to demand her attention, including his various needs. One day Sukumar yelled at her. \"Let me die, part of you should also die with me forever....... Sukanya agreed. If she was busy with her household chores, her family thought she was doing something substantial, the moment she would pick up her pen and try to write, her family thought she was doing nothing. 273

This is the fate of many women after marriage. Many women give up their flourishing careers. And one part of her died with her protagonist Sukumar, she had fallen in love with. She started dating him. With a flight of fancy, they travelled around the world... Had breakfast at God's own country... Lunch on the land of the rising sun... Evenings were spent dancing with aboriginals of Australia. Together they read their favorite novels. But sometimes she weeps, as the lady in the mirror taunts her... “Your novel Sukumar has gone with the wind... Yes, she could not complete her novel Sukumar after marriage. Far away from cacophony... Together they paint the silent meadows with love, in surrealism. And she hums her own rhyming poem for Sukumar... \"When evening sky drapes a tint pinkish... Waves run to the shore to give a peck and kiss. The flock of Avian returns to their nest. To be with their kith and kin for rest. Let us dance on the sandy beach And melt in love with sublime bliss.\" Sukumar constantly inspired her to write. And persuaded her to update her C.V. at naukri.dot com. 274

And eventually, she got a job as a content writer working from home. Sukumar would advise her, “writing a novel now is difficult for you, but you could write poems. In life never quit, love your passion. Do not let your education go in vain. After she started working from home and writing poems, the woman in the mirror stopped taunting her. But for many, she remained a homemaker. Now, as time flows, with children and Bhaskar, she has become fragile, with few wrinkles But with Sukumar, she remains forever maiden, painting the silent verdant valley with love eternal. Mousumee Baruah 275

PRIYANKA SHARMA Priyanka Sharma is an Indian educator, a passionate poet and an avid learner. She did graduation and post-graduation in English and her interest in literature advanced after she completed her senior year at high school. Her passion for literature made her switch path from being a commerce student to a literature student. She is a conservationist and helps people heal by her words. A teacher by day and a writer by night, her sole motto in life is to spread positivity, love, happiness around and shape the upcoming generation in becoming an asset to nation and humanity. 276

IMMORTAL LOVE Picking the freshest roses and choosing six of them being the most \"deserving one's\" accompanied with the best memories of them being together; he leaves to greet his beloved with all the affection a soul can carry. This became a common ritual since the day his beloved died. Dressed up in a perfect attire with handpicked roses to his pilgrim (her crypt) religiously after her death was the sole thing that gave him some warmth in the cold war his life became in her absence. He tirelessly followed this regime twice or thrice a week. Loyal to her with each pound of flesh and the core of his soul, even when she left him for another person when alive and for another world after her death. His love for her never dented an inch, he never seemed to let it hinder the pure quality of love he had for her. He never failed to express his deep hearted desires for her and time and again proved that he loved her with all the love a person can acquire in heart and soul. Even after decades of her death, he kept her alive in his memories, his heart, each touch, and in each glance. He kept HER being the sole reason of him being alive. Di Maggio (an American baseball player) could never really forget his love Marilyn Monroe (famous American actress) even after decades of the latter's death, he kept reminiscing her angelic glory throughout his life, unaffected by the reality of her being absent from the real world - he never let her absence hinder the magnificent love he had for her; he kept her memories alive in every part of his very existence. He was so devoted to her that he never re - married throughout his life and his attachment for Marilyn Monroe grew leaps and bounds till the day he breathed his last. The tragic ending of their marriage didn't affect any of them much, as Maggio was one of the closest friends Marilyn had even during her last years. In the brief tenure of nine months of their marriage they fell in love with each other's soul and even after them being divorced Maggio did his wholehearted effort to restore Marilyn's confidence in him. 277

It is quoted that \"Marilyn loved Maggio to the end\" and Maggio too reciprocated all the love by sending six long stemmed roses to Marilyn’s crypt twice or thrice every week until the day he too passed away and even during his last breath he was reported saying, \"Now I will finally meet my Marilyn.\" All love does to a being is preaching each other's soul till they both unify for time and beyond. As, Love is the only thing that never LEAVES you even when it's GONE. Whatever the case may be, as it is said, \"True love never dies.” Their love for each other never faded and set an example for many to come that true love knows no boundaries and nothing can stop a lover because – “all he possesses is the power of LOVE - the greatest and the most powerful thing in the universe which can never be defeated if it’s true to the core.” Six long stemmed roses handpicked, Graciously woven all with love in a bouquet. Sent to the beloved's crypt each week twice thrice, Claiming all the love that in earthly time couldn't suffice. This happened for decades, till he also died. And at last his soul with his beloved unified. प्रिyanka Shमाा 278

RAVI RAGHUVANSH Ravi Raghuvansh, is an English educator for the past 10 years. He has worked in the topmost schools like Podar International School, Aditya Birla and Hill Spring. He masters the art of teaching Language and Literature to both the CAIE and the IB curriculum. He is a postgraduate in Literature from Alwar University, Rajasthan. Blessed with good orator skills and penmanship, he is not only a good athlete but also a Judo champion. He aspires to be a lifelong learner. He may be reached at [email protected] 279

LET’S MEET ONE MORE TIME! Let’s meet one more time, Where you come to see me at nine. Wear some pink and jewelry that rhyme. Hold my hand and make me sublime. Let’s meet one more time, Under some swaying trees with twinkling stars as chime. How many of us have died in this crime; Waiting and waiting till our graves turn shrine. For a moonlit white Jasmine divine, Why a sunflower will not bend at sunset and confine. For a coffin call will not come in springtime. For an apology which was never meant to be heard at sunshine. Lay here and spend some time. Let me hold you in this coffin of mine; To tell you all the things I adore. Despite world has turned from me away, I still beg you to stay. You will hurt, you will heal. Let’s meet one more time, like a seal in love with sea. Our waves will embrace the friction and cries. We will live once again as we dive. 280

Life was short to live, let’s meet one more time. As the sun is to moon so the night is to noon. Our world is too temporal as faith is to ethereal Your love is to my soul as our time is eternal. Ravi Raghuvanshi 281

POONAM KANWAL Poonam Kanwal, an MBA from Mumbai University, was a corporate marketing executive and brand manager with, Ogilvy and Mather, Colgate-Palmolive India limited, Parle Agro private limited, India before she ventured into entrepreneurship. She is currently the co-founder and investor with Bindassparty.com, A visiting faculty at NMIMS and MET. A recipient of Indira International Innovation Women Entrepreneurship award 2013 - for innovation in business and has been the First Runners up VPR Mrs. India Classic 2020 and Mrs. India Vivacious 2020 She has earned literary recognition at Asian Literary Society, having won 18 Certificates of Excellence and the Annual ASL Wordsmith award 2019 for excellence in English poetry writing. She has published in \" ASL 2019: A bilingual anthology of Poems\", digital, on the Asian Literary Society blog, been on the Appreciation list for the ALS's \"Indian Women's Achiever 2020”, for literature. She received the First prize for Stand-up poetry recitation at Impish Lass Publishing House, book launch event 15 August 2019. 282

DATING BEYOND THE GATES OF GOD Eclectic was our first official meet, over dinner one night, Addictive were his ways, honest and crisp his poise and grace, His measured words, darted bull’s eye into the dartboard of my heart, Left perturbed, under the spell of his charm, guilt ran down my spine… As I saw my loyalties, switch from work to the study of his personage, I pushed away the guilt, to live the moment and let spontaneity shine, Close we grew on virtual chats, but personal meets, were far and few, Our longing to meet brewed, but challenging times left us with no clue, Our past commitments, stood guard, reality struck, our dream didn’t last, Over time, with a heavy heart we had to part, A parting gift we exchanged, that stayed parceled in hope, Was a deep desire to romance and elope, I took to the sky, after death consumed my mortal hide, My soul’s new journey, had a new path, a vaporous spirit, all I was, A familiar scent, I sensed, close by and my loneliness flew, The repressed yearn that lived in me, lit, my spirits charged, What more could I have asked? But another chance........ To meet my lost love……death couldn’t do us apart, Impetuous like youth we rolled into each other, Kissed, curled and swirled together, like warps and weft, We knitted into each other’s spiritual walls, In whispers he expressed how dear I was, 283

Into a secluded corner of the vast skies we chose to get lodged, We caught up on our past, shared all that had been so far locked, Together we started our journey to the gates of God, Once inside, we played, laughed, danced and sang, Tip of his spirit penned romantic poems, on the blue pages of the sky’s wall, The freedom to choose, that life deprived, got gifted by death divine, We hid inside each other’s hug, tight and snug, No new life found us; no devil of rebirth stood to bribe… Our togetherness. Poonam Kanwal 284

SHARVARI SHANKAR Sharvari Shankar Poojary is a degree student who is interested in research and teaching. With studies she also loves to write poems and short stories based on moments she experienced and from some books which she has read. She has attempted to write a short story totally based on her imagination on how two love birds propose to each other after death, so let’s have a look on this imaginary story... 285

PROPOSE IN HEAVEN! Once upon a time, a girl sitting alone in her room thinking, “If I will get a chance to meet him again, I will surely tell him, why I ignored him at that time.” But soon her mother called her for work, and she gets busy into that, leaving her thoughts there. God was noticing everything, but he never created any moment for both of them to meet again. Years passed by, the girl and the boy both became busy in their own careers, marriage, children and all. Finally, during the last days of their life both were remembering each other, especially the girl was wishing hard to meet the boy once again in her life. But soon a day came, when God called the girl to heaven. “God, will you fulfill my last wish, I really want to meet him again!” exclaimed the girl with sadness. Nodding his head and smiling at her, he took her to a wonderland, where every boy or girl would want to date. It was a place in heaven where the roof and the floor both were made of clouds, inside which were laid tables and chairs and the surroundings of wonderland consisted of candles and white curtains, with a slow drizzle of rose petals, which enhanced the beauty of this wonderland. The girl was totally amazed with its beauty, but she was constantly thinking, when God would fulfill her wish. Understanding her feelings, God told her to sit on a chair and he disappeared from there. Soon he arrived with the boy, for whom the girl was waiting for so long. The girl became excited and happy on seeing the boy and she went near the entrance of that wonderland. But seeing the girl, the boy started ignoring her, so God told her to tell him the exact truth and he disappeared from there. Amazed with the words of god, the boy was interested to listen to her. The girl was waiting for the boy to start talking to her, but he didn’t, so she started, “I am a little confused as to how to express my feelings, but now I want to say something. I was having a crush on you right from the day I saw you for the first time, during our exams. I started having feelings for you as you were very handsome, 286

I thought you would easily get someone who is more stylish like you, but I was not knowing that you would be falling for me only. I was feeling funny and also little irritated with when you were kicking me on my legs, and the way you stared at me, from all that I came to know that you want to talk to me” At this point both the girl and the boy started laughing, they looked at each other. “I would have complained to sir, if there was any other boy in place of you, so that sir would remove him from the extra class but the boy was the one for whom I was having a crush at that time and soon it turned into love.” The boy stopped her in between and asked her, “Then why did you ignore me?” The girl continued, “Because of the promise, I had made to my parents that I will never go in the direction of love before I complete my studies and I would never make them feel low in the society by saying, I am already in love with someone.” The girl was in tears as she said this and the boy understood the pain, she had faced by ignoring him. Finally, the boy took a decision and holding her hands, he took her near a table. He knelt down on one knee for proposing her and said, “Will you be with me and marry me in our next birth?” She got surprised and with excitement, she said, “Yes, I will marry you!” The slow drizzle of petals grew into a downpour on both of them. At that time, God appeared in front of them and said, “So are you ready for your next birth?” Now I guess that my readers know what their reply would be and yes finally they had their next birth, forgetting their past memories, but remembering the promise of having a love marriage with each other, leading to a happy life So, finally this love story had a happy ending. Sharvari Shankar Poojary 287