Shyam That winter on the top floor of a hotel in the beautiful valley of Panchgani, Shyam decided he was born for happiness. Sanskriti was pregnant. Shyam’s around her, the stood watching the hills and the off-peak silence around them. The sun was painting hues of orange and yellow in the sky. Their hands clubbed together, they stood dreaming of the promising future. Shyam could almost see their simple life arrive here, to a holiday time in the beautiful valley. Sanskriti Six years from that day, Sanskriti watched the lonely stars twinkling in space from the balcony of their house in Pune. She could still visualize the ecstasy on Shyam’s face when he had said that aloud. His voice kept ringing in her head, magnified as they now spoke only in monosyllables. Sanskriti walked to the railing and looked down at the empty streets. It was deserted save for the lone motorcycles zooming on the shinny streets. She looked at her watch. It was 3am. The night was starry and cool. She loved to w
That, which has a beginning has an end. That, which is limitless and infinite is without a beginning and without an end.