What is right?

The dilemma of the depth of the question killed him. He had known what he had wanted all along and what he wished for most people weren't a big fan of. Most, in this pretext meant nearly 99% of the people. What was this that made this wish so profound? Why was he in such a dilemma! The questions haunted his own alter ego.

But amid all, what did he want? To be free. To be able to breathe freely without a conscious haunting in every step of the way. To be able to do whatever he wanted to do. To fly among the soft clouds that floated in the sky of a summer evening. He was second in a family of three children. But he has always been the eldest. How? A tragedy! A tragedy in which his brother left this so called beautiful world after enjoying the life in this world for a couple of days. Just a couple of days. How more terrible can God be? If he was born before his brother, he would have been devastated. But he was lucky? He was fortunate enough to escape that hardship.

All this while as he grew up, he was totally unaware of a heavenly soul and was the eldest in the family. He never had a thought, never had a mention, never knew that he was second. He never had to think deep even after he came to know, he wasn't at a liberty to feel remorse. But every one in a while he would imagine what if that kid was still around, what the world around him would be like. Above all, all he thought was that it would have been pleasant. 

Why? Why he wanted his brother to be alive? But first of all, he wondered whether the almighty God was fair? Eventually as time passed by, he started realizing his anger towards God for being so unfair to a kid who was still young, who didn't even put his legs on this world. He was as much angry as the circumstances that led to now. The loss of life at any point of time could scar anyone for life. Life is precious, and God understands this more than anyone. But, if only he did! He asked, rather shouted at God, cursed him, demeaned him and after failing to see any results started losing faith in him. No matter how much faith he lost, even when there was no faith left to lose, he still remembered him every once in a while, either it was to curse him or beg him. He concluded God to be a mean person with no conscious, no remorse. How could anyone tell otherwise! 

Now revisiting again, Why he wanted his brother to be alive? Why he hated God so much? Why, because that night God took away the wrong person. He wishes that if that day  had been any different, the world, his world would have been a different place. A peaceful place where he always wishes to be. A place where there is no sorrow. A place where there is no pain. A place where there is no hatred, no nothing. A place where he never existed, where he never existed!

The Apartment

Chapter III

The Apartment !

Chapter I : Prologue

Chapter II : "You have been served" 

______________________________

Mark kept his gaze on the envelop and gazed it for a moment to sink in the authenticity of the envelop and the inscription it had. The same kind of typewriter print. Is it from the suspect we are after?, Mark asked himself staring at the envelop. May be it could be something to get us off his back, mislead us into a goose chase. May be. Or he thinks himself to be an evil genius and probably showcasing his psychotic side by giving us clues or what he is upto. Is this a game to him? Is he trying to challenge us based on the way we might solve this game of his? The questions kept haunting Mark. But he wanted to be better sure than speculate. He wanted to judge the similarity in the print on the note and the envelop. He took the envelop and got into the elevator to the lawyer's apartment. When he reached the apartment, the police were just clearing out from the house as they have whatever they wanted. Mark asked for the evidence file in which the note was kept. It wasn't a big surprise, the print was same and could be concluded that it was the same typewriter print. It was their suspect's own envelop. 

So, what does this envelop have? As this was from the same suspect-killer, it should be legally turned into as evidence? But the suspect in question, he should rather be more interested in making an escape plan, may be leave the city, hide somewhere where no one could ever find him. But he is somewhere here, somewhere close and keeping an eye on what is happening. He has an ulterior motive and I have got to find it out, Mark spoke under his breath. Does his ulterior motive creating more crime scenes? The thought itself gave Mark a chill. This was a very sick game he was playing and he should be stopped before more dead bodies surface. The suspect has been a step ahead all this while and I have to catch up with him and take a step ahead of him and eventually catch him. But how? Mark felt the frustration building up and as a counter he hit the wall. He had a lot on his mind and the thoughts got jumbled. He hit the wall even harder to silence his rebellious mind. What he wasn't still certain of was how the killer did this and went away. He sat on the stairs that we beside the elevator and closed his eyes as he took three long deep breaths. The scenes started formulating in front of his, his version though.

The killer must have known this lawyer from somewhere. He has followed him for a week or so knowing what he did in his time and where he lived. But he chose the previous night to step up and execute his plan. Why? May be he thought it was time? He got into the apartment without tripping the security alarm. He knows his way around things. And this was a not a easy thing to crack either. So electronics, check. He probably entered the apartment from the front door itself. The balcony way is not out of the question but it is way too risky and not easy. But if he did, there would be definite clues and there were none. So, balcony, cross. He managed to dodge the security cameras in the floor and there was no log of anyone using the elevator beside the lawyer at that time, before and after. Was he inside the elevator? Impossible, the security camera in the elevator would have showed something. So the only left was the roof. How did he manage to get on the roof? Lets assume he did come from the roof. He entered the apartment from the front door and disabling the security before it went haywire, closed the door behind him. And then what? No footprints, no smudges, nothing! He was good at what he did and he clearly knew what he was getting into. He was careful not to touch anything and leave any evidence behind. Where did he hide? He had to hide somewhere not to get caught if the lawyer was to check his apartment. The bedroom? That would have made it quite difficult to make his way back into the living room. But how did he know that the lawyer would be in the living room? The safe place for him was the balcony. It was vast and lot of blind spots. And at that time even I wouldn't assume to be sitting there and waiting to kill me. The lawyer came to his apartment close to midnight. He was a little drunk, the aftermath of the party he had just attended. But he still had to take another glass of drink? Why? The photo of his wife misplaced on the table. He picked it up to mitigate the pain had to drink. He then sat on the chair facing the balcony and lit a cigar. He might has slipped into sleep as he was tired already. The intruder took that as a chance and entered the living room from the balcony. He woke him up. There was a slight struggle from the lawyer as a result of the shock and his reflex to save himself from that panic stood up to grab something. But the intruder was fast. A bullet pierced the lawyer and he fell down face down. The intruder left that note beside him and left the same way he came. From the roof? The roof ! 

Mark took the stairs and ran up to the roof. It was just any other ordinary roof. But it had gravel around the boundary of the building. He managed to find certain skid marks as if a hard landing which seemed to have been wiped down. He canvased the surroundings to find an adjacent apartment which could be used for a jump. May be the suspect used the adjacent building to enter this. Beside the skid marks he saw an adjacent apartment nearly ten feet apart. If he had come from that apartment, he had to had some help. It didn't much time to locate the hook which was used to hold the wire of sorts. There was traces of footprints. Mark took a picture of the partial footprint on his mobile. He did come from this way, but didn't leave from here. The security camera's from that apartment could give us more clues. And also, the mode of transportation after he left the apartment. There was a lot of possibilities. That is something to be looked into as well. I will have to inform Sam to canvas through the security footage of three blocks, anything that just could put someone in the time frame.

___________________________________

The rain was heavy that night. The nature must have been furious. Is was a simple apartment that any normal middle class guy would have, rented obviously. The city was expensive in itself and affording even a small apartment would mean that he was Rich. But he managed his expenses. The rain lashed through his helmet as he sped towards his apartment. He reached his apartment which was just at the verge of the city. He was completely drenched in rain. The cold water that bathed him calmed his thoughts. He had almost forgotten what he had done that night. He was at peace. He placed his overcoat to dry beside the window on the hanger. The apartment was small, had one bedroom, a small kitchen and a living room. It was sufficient for him and under his norms of payment. He stared across the living room onto a wall as he grabbed a beer from the mini fridge in the kitchen. He kept his eyes fixed at the wall as he walked towards it. The wall that he was staring at resembled what would be termed as a collage in layman terms but not the simple good looking collage. Oh, it was looking good alright, but only he could understand. It was the collage of photos, newspaper cuttings, files, reports, print outs, torn out pages, sticky notes, pins, different colored threads and whatnot. The whole office supply was improvised to create this roadmap. He stared at the picture of the lawyer at the bottom corner, took a red sketch and crossed it with two distinct lines across the edges of the photo and tied a red thread over the already existing yellow thread. The red thread had the origin just on the lawyer. He took a few steps back and looked at the wholeness of the collage and assured himself with a half smile that in time he will be able to reach the top of the pyramid. The smile faded on his face a moment later, finished his beer in a jiffy as he stared at the second picture. He went to his bedroom, sat on the bed with his laptop and started his research about the next guy in the list.

___________________________________

(To be Continued...)

P.S. : I am continuing the fictional story I started a while back. Hope this is not as awful as I fear it to be. Lets' see how this turns out to be. Gracias. 

Over a message.

The night sunk in the silence of the aftermath of a long drizzling day. The city had slept in its comfort. But there was one house where the midnight oil was still burning in its glory. He had to be in the office the next day early in the morning for a major release. So, what was the reason that he had to burn away the oil instead of a sound sleep. Was there a presentation that he had to give and he was just finishing it up or just prep-ing himself for that. That wasn't the reason either. Amid all this, he checked his watch only to find that it was too late and too little time to sleep. It was ten minutes to one. He picked up his mobile and pinged his friend "U awake?". There was 90 percent chance that the person he messaged would be awake at that time of the night. So, someone else was also burning the midnight oil in the other part of the city.

Gautham retired from the tiring day and decided to sleep early keeping a foresight that there was a major release at six in the morning the very next day. So, he cozied up in his bed only to realize that he was not able to sleep. He rolled over the bed a couple of times and tried all positions for sleeping on the bed. But he sat up realizing that the thoughts that invaded were too powerful to be suppressed. He grabbed his laptop that was on the side table of his bed and started browsing through the photos, her photos. It was quite difficult for him to get over her. He had known that they had been good friends for quite some time. But the day he was relocated to another part of the city was quite difficult for him to see her everyday, like he used to. But this night had been different. He just couldn't sleep. All the previous nights he had hoped that, he had just hoped to find her in his dreams. Occasionally, he did but that wasn't enough for him. Seeing his shyness and awkwardness of his, not to mention his desperation, Aryan advised him a couple of times to just man up and take the first punch, figuratively. It is difficult to let others know what could possibly be going in your mind unless shared. So, take the first step even if it is hard choice to make. But then again there are consequences. And that makes a person scared. Precisely, these so-called-consequences scared him to death, again figuratively. If expressing love is one difficult thing to do, then to deal with the consequences is another thing. But for a precious love, a little risk or a big risk shouldn't be an issue. That was what Aryan thought, that instead of repenting for the rest of the life for not telling his feelings, it would be better to just express and see on which side the coin lands on.

"Yeah. What's up?" asked Aryan after he received a ping from his friend at almost an hour past midnight. He was also burning the midnight oil, but he had no obligations for the night, not even for the day that followed. He was one mean insomniac, who spends his day in the night and also his night. He is a little screwed that way. After the exchange of a few messages and making plans to meet up the next day after his meeting in the office, it was not a complicated task to figure out at the first instance itself. It was her, again for his sleeplessness. Aryan never understood what was it that compelled this insomnia and that the reason for that was a chick! Oh, he knew alright, but never got the chance to experience. He had been sleepless for a lot other reasons, but a chick, never had the pleasure, he amuses himself over it. Only time could tell. So, there was an update regarding his one-sided love affair. He did man up and found his courage to tell his feelings but there was a catch. There always is one. So what was it this time? He was going to tell her over a message in Whatsapp! "Oh, god! Kill me now!" exclaimed Aryan in his mind after reading that message on his cell. In Gautham's defense, he didn't have the courage to say to her in person. And that is not all. There was another catch. 

"When are you going to propose?", Aryan asked feeling a little bit out of place what to reply. 

"I decided one thing. I'll not propose her. Instead, I'll just inform".

"Oh dear lord, Shoot me now! Just end my misery.", Aryan was getting high voltage shocks. 

The rest of the conversation didn't go as Aryan intended it to. He tried his best to keep him positive about the outcome even though the chances were one to thousand. All his inspiring-philosophies didn't actually work out. He has to be in Gautham's shoes to be able to understand. And the final shock of the night was when Gautham replied that he wasn't going to wait for her opinion. "God, O' dear Lord where are you? Why am I still breathing?", Aryan shouted in silence.

__________________________

Gautham would probably kill Aryan for sharing this. No doubt. Aryan is dead when Gautham gets wind of this. 

"You have been served"

Disclaimer : This following piece of fiction is a continuation of the first part Prologue, which I wrote a long time back. I have have had this feeling to continue this somehow. So, here it is.

Chapter 1 : Prologue

__________________________________

I check the time on my watch. The time was 2210 hours. I still had over an hour to set everything in place. I got on my bike, drove to the destination parked it a few blocks away beyond the eye of suspicion. I took care of the security cameras. I have been canvasing this neighborhood for the past few weeks now. I have to be careful. I have got a long list to deal with. If I get caught, the injustice would win, yet again. I need to set things straight when I can before it's too late. The security camera on his apartment floor have been running in continuous loop and the guard couldn't figure it out. Of course, I have timed it well. But, today better safe than sorry, I am going to disable them. I need them to know that somebody was here and altered everything here. His apartment looks well, RICH. I have had the layout but he did a pretty good job decorating. But, it is going to be such a waste. He won't be able to stay long enough. I had to be cautious not to misplace anything. Anything out of the context could put my plan in jeopardy. Luckily, I was able to find his revolver, a 9mm and a great choice. May be it was gifted by someone. It has an engraving JM, his name. I scanned around the house, the AC was on. It was never off. I assumed it was the cold weather filled with the aftermath of the rain. Oh, he has a beautiful scenery. The city looks beautiful in the night and from this height. The car, his car was headed towards the apartment. It is almost time.

It was so easy getting. A small jump from the adjoining building landed me on this apartment's rooftop. And I just had to get into the penthouse. I knew the security codes. Two days of surveillance was enough to decode his security code.  It was his wife death date and his daughter's birth date, something he could never forget. I got in from the main entrance as if it was my own apartment. As I realized he had taken the elevator directly to his floor, I hid in the balcony behind the door. He entered the apartment and didn't suspect a thing misplaces or the presence of an intruder, the possible killer. He had no idea of what his future would be and how short his life would become. He opened the balcony to let the fresh cold wind replace the air conditioned room. At that moment, my heart skipped a beat that I would be discovered and that my purpose will be served but in a lot messier way. But he didn't come out. Instead he lit a cigar. Probably his last cigar. I watched carefully from the tainted window of the balcony door beyond his purview of sight. He left the glass of scotch on the handle of his chair and the cigar smoke danced around his fingers. He had slept. It might have been a tiring day perhaps. I cautioned myself and briskly made myself into the room from the balcony. The curtains flew under the cold wraps of the wind. He was fast asleep. I wanted to wait for the cigar to burn his finger and then he would wake up to see me, his death. The longer I wait, the more clues I leave behind. I must hurry up. I nudge the glass on the chair handle and it slowly fell down. The fur carpet absorbed most of the noise but that was enough to bring this man into senses. He saw me with a frightened look which suddenly disappeared as he jumped up to the cupboard on the side to grab his revolver. Oh the revolver, one nice little piece. 

"Looking for this", I scoffed as he stumbled to look back at me. "I am just borrowing it for a little while. I promise to return back", my voice still mocked at his innocence. 

"What do you want?", he asked me as if I was here to rob him. Oh, I was here to rob him, but not just his money, but his life. 

"There is nothing in this world you could pay me off with. It is time you accepted, 

accepted your fate". 

"What the hell are you talking about? Why are you doing this?".

"Don't act so surprised. You knew that this was coming. Why else would get a revolver?".

"I have no idea what you are talking about?". 

"Oh, don't worry about it. It is all going to end tonight. You will have nothing but peace in the end. I can promise you that". 

"Who the hell are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

I placed a page in front of him. I wanted him to realize why he won't be able to see another day. As he picked up the paper, I could see the life go out of body. He knew what it was and he had known the consequences at that time. But he never expected to see it again until today. I lost his balance and in the moment of panic he jumped for the alarm button just at the edge of the cupboard. But he fell down with two shots in his chest. There was silence afterwards. I went out of the apartment from the front door through the service elevator, the one place the camera was old and wasn't functioning. As I got onto my bike, I switched of the remote access to the security cameras which gave the guard in the apartment that something was wrong. One camera wasn't working. He called the cops. I was long gone. Everything according to plan.

_______________________________

Mark reached his office later the next day just to be welcomed by storming press which were as agitated as he was. They needed answers and so did he. They had questions, and well, so did he. It was getting a little out of hand, all this new business with the killer with no answers in hand. Mark made an mental note to drop by the crime scene once the melodrama at the office was over. All this pressure was taking a toll on him. He had just completed an half year being sober and he couldn't start that again. Never. Again. He told himself. Instead he grabbed a coffee from the pantry, filled it in a take away cup and took a sip. He knew that this drama was going to continue as long as the mystery is solved. Just as he was about to get out of the Office to find out more about the lawyer who died the other night, he was called in by his chief. He inquired about his progress and mocked about his skill which wasn't helping them in recent past. He also lay down a deadline failing which he would be handing over the case to the State and then there would be nothing they could do. 

"Are you capable of solving this?", asked his chief with a disgruntled look as Mark was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday and his swollen eyes due to lack of sleep. What was he up to, thought the chief. But whatever his inquisitions were, he had the faith in him despite all the odds. He was good at what he did and there was no doubt about it. But was be becoming reckless? Has the past caught up with him? No. He brushed aside all those thoughts which could jeopardize his skill in the investigation. 

"Yes, I am well above my senses regarding this case. As a matter of fact, I was just heading back to the crime scene to find some clues. May be I could grab something that I might have missed yesterday."

"Yeah you do that. Meanwhile I have this press to deal with. They just don't believe I will be telling. They just keep hitting back with more questions. We have had no progress yet. So, please get me something. Powerful people are dropping down like used shell casings which is raising a few more questions from the superiors. They are scared, sure but they will be up our asses until this is solved. We need to end this. But you keep up your best and hope to see some results at the earliest."

"I always do my best and you know it."

"Yeah, I do. But don't flatter yourself. Just get me some good news".

Mark left the office with a coffee in hand. He reared his car in reverse setting it straight to go ahead to the crime scene. He reached the scene only to find the Yellow Do Not Cross police tape outside of the apartment. It was a penthouse, a luxury one indeed. He scanned the surroundings but started with the entrance. The door doesn't seem have been fiddled with nor any signs of forced entry. The killer might have been inside the apartment before the lawyer had even come. Did he have a duplicate key? If he had, he also had to know the security lock code to disable the alarm. What about the cameras in the doorway? That should help a little. He picked up the report of the observations by the forensic and skimmed through the details. Nothing useful, he told himself. The cameras have been disabled. As a matter of fact they have been working in loop for a couple of days before they were disabled the other night. That means the killer had an elaborated plan to get him. But what was the need for a stakeout? If he wanted to kill him, he might as well do it. Looks like he had an ulterior motive. If that is the case, what was it? The balcony door seems to be undisturbed, but that is not true. It was the only possible access to the penthouse. If he had made his way, it could be either from the roof or from the floor below. Mark looked for clues to find any clues that the killer might have left behind. He was very careful not to leave any. He looks like a professional hitman of sorts. Not even one shred of clue is left behind. How can this be possible?, thought Mark. A strand of hair or sweat or something should be here somewhere. What about the note? He went to the scene of the crime to find a chalk etched outline of the lawyer who was killed last night. Beside the outline of the body was a note in white paper on which it was printed 'FOR A BETTER SOCIETY'. It was printed and nothing more could be done except the kind of printer and paper. That won't be of any help. If it was hand written, may be the hand writing analysis or the use of words could have indicated the state of mind of the killer. State of mind! chuckled Mark. State of mind, my ass. He is a god damn psychopath and he needs to be put down. After scanning through the stuff, fridge, balcony and everything that could possibly be linked to the killer which was around in the apartment as it was clear that the killer had been waiting for him for a long time, he tried to recreate the scene in his mind. 

James McGumry was the name of the lawyer whose embodied outline lie in his apartment while his corpse is being investigated by the Forensic department back in the office. He looks like a rich wealthy person judging by the interior of his house which was possible designed by the best interior designed in the town. And also the Mercedes that was in the parking lot, a limited edition. Though it is practically impossible for a lawyer like himself to be owning such a priced possession. He drove his own car which meant that he wanted to be in control. Of course, he is an lawyer and the control over things comes with the territory. So, after a busy day at the court he drops by for the dinner party at the Mayor's house. He has a little too of Champagne but he feels he is in control and drives himself home after the party. It wasn't a long drive from the Mayor's house to his penthouse. As soon as he reached his home, he entered his house just like everyday, casually. He didn't suspect anything weird or anything out of place. If he had noticed something out of place, he would have known that something was wrong. This means that the killer was careful not to disturb anything in Lawyer's apartment. May be the lawyer was too drunk to notice, which could be a possibility. But living in solitude does give the person a sense of caution towards his surroundings. So, he would have known. He looked at his wife's photo on the beside where he kept his keys safely. He looked at it and put it face down as he took the glass from the minibar beside and poured a hard scotch into it as took a sip. He might have walked back to his chair facing the balcony. He sat there as he lit up a cigar and took a sip of the scotch. He might have been thinking about his deceased wife as he looked at the bokeh of city lights that shimmered in front of him from his pent house balcony. He dozed off into blissful sleep only to woken up by the the glass that fell on the velvety furry carpet. He might have seen the intruder in front of him and stood up to take action. The killer didn't shoot then, but he waited as the lawyer searched for his revolver in the side cabinet only to find nothing there. The intruder looked deep into his eyes and might have said something before putting two bullets in his chest, the sound of which subsided by the silencer on the gun. The intruder made his way out from the front door itself and stay unnoticed. The door had an automatic lock which could lock itself once the door is closed. But how did the intruder get inside in the first place? The balcony is the only possible explanation.

Mark wanted to examine the body and find whatever he could that the forensic experts might have missed. He made a mental note to check back once examining the body and could indicate any clues about the state of mind of the killer. He reached his car and as he threw the cigarette stubbed between his lips, stamped on it and looked up to open the door of his car. He found an envelop on the windshield of his car which had an inscription "YOU HAVE BEEN SERVED", the same typewriter handwriting found beside the outlined body of the lawyer in his apartment. This sent a shiver down his spine as he looked at it even before he opened it.

_______________________________________

P.S. : I am writing fiction after a very long time. Hope this is not as awful as I fear it to be. Lets' see how this turns out to be. Gracias. 

The Obvious fact

When two roads seem to cross paths, it gives the indication that everything that is happening is for a reason and that, it is the fate, or whatever it is termed. Sometimes even when the paths have seem to have crossed, they actually don't. They run along side each other to the destination that is yet unknown. But along the way there is this enchantment that binds the roads together. We call it love. What it is? I wish I knew. As a result, I would be babbling whatever I feel about it, until I have a first hand experience with it. But keeping my story aside, there are people always around me portraying that enchantment in their own way. I have been amazed with what that could to do to people and how the people get mesmerized in the enchantment.

So is one story of a guy I came across in my recent encounters who also happens to be an ex-colleague. He happens to be in deeply in that enchantment. He is yet to muster his courage to step up from his inhibitions and take a stand for himself and let himself be heard, if not to all at least the person who should. But that step is quite a difficult thing to do. I have always wondered why it could be that difficult. It just involves walking up to her and just say his heartfelt feelings and everything that is keeping him from sleep at nights and that the reason is none other than her. Right? How hard it could be? I realized that I was deeply wrong about this when I was asked for a presentation and you can't even imagine how bad it went. I killed it, literally. I had prepared for it and yet I just couldn't speak my mind. The question of my blog does put an end to all that assumptions that I might suck at presentations. But I did, and the yet bigger problem is I still do. I haven't yet come around this hurdle as I continue to dwell in the past experiences. Anyways, it is very difficult to speak your mind especially when it is all about the so called enchantment, is it not? There are consequences, of course. Of all the two possible outcomes, it is either living happily ever after with certain hurdles as expected. Or probably taking the help of alcohol to ease the pain, which I have never understood. They do say that there is a lot of fish in the sea. To which my own mind contemplates with a counter attack saying "She was my sea". Well, that left me rather speechless for a moment as I drowned in the depth of what it actually means. The problem wasn't the fear, but the fear of rejection. And it was precisely the reason for his holding back. I did encourage him to take a chance and let the quote fate unquote take its natural course. But then again, nerves get to us, as we all know. Cold feet. He was never prepared. He couldn't risk losing a friend over a proposal which if didn't turn out according to his plan.

He doesn't come often to meet us. Us as in the other group members who all work at the same place while he got a better opportunity and is working elsewhere. So, whenever he comes he makes sure that he meets everyone. By everyone, I mean he wants to make sure his crush(lets' call it that for the time being) is present that day else he won't. And in the process of confirming the presence of all the people of the group which is not divided into two due to some discrepancies, he stepped on the wrong stone. In his defense he wasn't aware of it as he did that. But, he did. And another reason for his coming unexpectedly was to mend that broken group. But after a few weeks of just observing, it was concluded that it wasn't in anybody's hands now. The only consequence of trying to fix would be that it would just do more damage than it already has. It has slipped through the hands. But nevertheless, life went on.

On a casual encounter, I was bombarded with questions by the girl in question in the previous paragraphs, which were more of a concern and to which I had no answers to. I actually did but what I had with me was more of a secret than of an answer. I couldn't just tell and hence, I had to waive off a concerned and equally quizzical look just to avoid suspicion. But I do feel that the cat is out of the bag and it not not far when she realizes what is happening and how dumb (read : foolishly) we people have been acting about it around her. May be she already does. But it is just a matter of time, if not yet. Because as I was being on the opposite side listening to the questions, I had a feeling that it might not have been clear what was happening with regards to the aforementioned friend of mine who is head over heels about this very person. The step on the stone that I mentioned earlier is the cause for all these questions. The only thought that I had was "Isn't it that obvious?". It is as clear as water and there was nothing more to it where I had to step in and offer an explanation why he did what he did. It was that obvious. But well, there are things which people choose not to believe in or don't want them to be true. And may be this was one of it.

I really hope there is a common ground they find and leave the past behind and start over may be. As for the obvious fact, there is too much at risk than floating freely among the clouds. And the common ground that I mentioned earlier accounts this also.