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Friday Fiction: Maya

The music played in the mind of Omi. He wandered aimlessly in the night and hearing birds chirping from a distance. A feeble smile stroke his lip. The memories of the times spent with the best friend, the girl he crushed on and the blank calls made in the wee hours. The times that slipped is a powerful healer as he faced his destiny. The unexpected defeats and longing for miracles. It soothed his heart as he looked back at the wondrous times that seemed too good to be true. It felt like waking up from a beautiful dream composed of heavenly bliss.

He chucked his last cigarette and the smoke curled in the air. Last night, the dream dawned upon Omi that all is not lost. Perhaps, it’s a sign of the extraordinary times that will unfurl. The depression that he fought with and how he wanted his life to get back to normal. It wasn’t helping him. He was hanging with a tiny thread of hope. Omi lay in the hospital and the last pinch of blood was sucked from his body. He fainted. It’s all Maya, he told himself. She is the illusion that life is made of. He passed out.

The angel unfurled in front of him. His Maya is near perfect, svelte and bore no human flaw. Omi would breathe his last in peace. On his bedside, the shiny iPhone was decked under the white pillow and he held it with his finger. The tall nurse walked past him and gently place his head on the right position on the pillow and winked at him. She was his Maya. Omi made an effort and fumbled with his hand to click her picture. I can now die in peace, he reasoned with his illogical, stubborn and obsessed mind. He sold his kidney for the super expensive iPhone to capture her gaze. It was his biggest illusion, only if what love can do to faint hearted like Omi. He passed away into heavenly bliss during the night.






Work-in-progress, seeker and bundle of contradictions. Stubborn and Refusal to grow up and constantly in search of myself, I blurt it out on my space. Drop in and share some love. Indian by choice.

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