Three lives, three souls, three hearts.
Shehnaaz, Sana and Sidharth entangled to each other like vines.
Raindrops or rainstorm, sunshine or fog, completely different yet similar, three people who are destined to a single stop, a heart that will get...
A heart doesn't turn cold unless it's been treated with coldness for a while.
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SIDHARTH
Let's think about where things actually went wrong or was it actually wrong? What if it was just an illusion created by me to trap myself or maybe it was nothing.
It feels so heavy, the lump keeps forming, keeps drowning. I don't even know whether I feel like crying or not? It just feels so heavy, the heart and the mind. The soul also feels like being collapsed on the shore upside down, the winds mixed with the salty waves crashing your wounds, breaking your bones. It feels all chilly but then there is this rage. Unwanted one. That comes sometimes and then disappears. And then there is this sudden urge to shake yourself, your existence so much so that you wake up and realise that this world isn't a hologram, it's all real. I'm real and my existence is real.
What about our deeds? Do they matter? And what about the afterlife? Does it happen?
The world is so hazy, a chaos of pits. The life is so bleak, your decisions so volatile, your feelings never able to recognize. Does your life even matter?
And if tomorrow you won't be here, what's the point of being here today? What's the point of ruining more lives?
You say I am scared, I say that too. You say I need help I say that too. You say you love me but then you also say that I shouldn't have been who I am. That I could have been better than ever. And you still say that you love me. You say you want me to never object you but also say to have a point of view and then accept me to love you, while I am choking choking inside.
"Sidharth, what the hell are you doing?", Shehnaaz snatches the knife from my hands, shaking me hard.
What have I been doing? Did I know? What have I been doing in these 23 years of my life, what was I supposed to do? That is the problem, I had done nothing and neither did I have any conclusion.
"Sidharth", she whispered throwing the knife somewhere in the corner and circling her hands around my shoulder.
"Why?", she spoke again softly, the fright in her eyes dissolving.
I looked at her. Another marrionate waiting to be destroyed. She was constantly rubbing her palms on my hand, it wasn't until she dragged me to the swing I realised that I had been shivering with fright.
I felt so weak. She was so small, trying to calm my nerves so big.
"Natasha died. I am a murderer." I began sobbing. "It's all been my fault. I made her do this."
