The silence was deafening. The oppressive freedom and the desired bondage were equally attainable. The clock ticked to signify passage of time or perhaps at its whim, it was easy to determine which and everyone tried to not figure out what it was about but couldn’t remember what they were trying for in the last place.

The weather was sunny and rainy making the day a bright overcast one. The cloud cover was thin and the smell of dry earth preceding the rain was making him remember what it was to experience Petrichor, the despoiler of the sweet smell of the last moment before the rains. He decided to remain dry and went out in the rain. The deluge left him dry and giddy with sorrow.

Something was broken or something had been fixed. But he was not alright or perhaps he was alright again. The world was not so confusing and the meaning of life was clear as the sky on a rainy night. He could define what was wrong and do something about it. And he did do something or nothing about it. The world was chaos and order. The fires were cold and the ice was scathingly hot. Everything was alright and nothing was fine with the world.


This was heaven and hell, this was life and death, and this was nothing and everything. What was this again? He knew and did not know. He could fly and swim and he could fall and drown.

He tasted the air through his skin and touched the world with his eyes. Then the lights faded and turned bright. There was nothing left and everything was still remaining.

This was Life and this was death. Nobody dead or alive could figure out which.


By – Aseem Mahajan

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