When you can tell your story without getting hurt, you realize that you are healed.
"Dad, let me carry it for you.", he said, taking the bag from his father's hand.
The old hands were relieved, but the heart felt heavier, as his son walked him through the gates of old age home.
Make up plastered. Red lipstick smeared. Ready for her 'night shift'.
Ignoring his rapacious stare, she faked her smile.
"How may I help you, sir?" Asked the air hostess.
She stepped out with her black eyeliner, blue mascara, red lipstick, peach concealer, pink blush and beige foundation.
"Don't you dare put any colors on my face.", she strictly told the children who wanted to play Holi.
Sitting at the corner table, she observed people heavily eating dinner.
"What would you like to have, M'aam?"
"A friend."
"HIV", said the doctor.
"Stay away", said his friends.
As his friends tears were gobbled up by a four legged playmate, he earned a fury friend that day.
"We will travel the world"' he had promised her. A year and a heartbreak later, she looked into the mirror and finally learned what ruins look like.
"After a long drought, the rain finally fell on dead farmer's land."
