Sleep started to wear off; rather it was the morning light or faint voices that greeted him to reality. Sanskaar sat, a hand over his throbbing temples.

Headache from the last night had put him to sleep, beyond the usual timings. Beams of sun rays coloured his room bright. For reasons, the light blinded him.

He glanced at the window. Sanskaar had a vague recollection of drawing those thick curtains over the window before he slept.
These days, he dwelled more on darkness.

The laughter and murmurs outside, or precisely from the kitchen got his attention. Swara was here, he could tell. Asha would not share that kind of laughter with others.

She was here.

Three days down, since he lied. Sanskaar's hand placed more pressure over his temples. Swara reached out in her usual ways- texts and calls with no differences.

Now it was she who laughed. Sanskaar heard her, a door parted them; but he heard her.

Everything was the same; them, her-- but he wasn't. Because she trusted him and all he could do was to leave cracks upon that. Unwilling. Still, he did.

Vibration from his phone abruptly disrupted his musing. It was a call from NGO's - the very one he awaited to gain some helping hands on the prospect of funds.

Instantly, Sanskaar took Asha's file from the back of the book shelf and glanced at the reports. He had taken pictures of them but in case, he wanted to re - check if he sent all of them.

Sanskaar tugged the file back in haste. Asha and Swara were away yet, he could not stake the chances of them hearing. So he paced outdoors, too quick to be noticed.

But what went unaware was how a paper from the health file slipped off his grip, now on the floor unattended.

"Is he still sleeping?" Swara's head cranked to the kitchen's threshold that gave a limited view of the hall from the kitchen. Because if he wasn't then he could have come.

"Sunny had the worst headache last night." Asha sighed at the memory.

He often winced and kept himself away from light, by any means. Later, she gave a head massage that induced sleep.

"You don't see him sleep everyday."

That was true. Swara had never seen her dearest boyfriend slack upon his rising time despite how short of sleep he was.

"Anyways, can you call him for breakfast? I'll get the table set."  Asha asked as he closed the gas. The breakfast cooking was done, much earlier than expected with Swara's help.

"Dadi, let me help you with setting the table." Just as she picked up a dish, Asha took that away from her, "I can do it Swara. Go wake him up."

"But--"

"You came to see Sunny. Now that I give you a chance, you won't take it?" Asha's tease reddened Swara's face. Was she that obvious? - she wasn't sure. In a vail attempt of hiding the blush, she left.

Not to forget the giggles that followed behind. Swara strode; a hand gently pushed the door as she peeped in. Hoping to be greeted by a sleeping Sanskaar but what she saw was an empty mattress.

A frown adorned her face. The sheets over the bed were sprawled; neither she heard sounds from the washroom nor was he there in the balcony.

"Where did he go?" Swara looked around. Maybe, she should look outside if he wasn't here. She turned her heels and stepped forward- rather on something not the floor.

It was a paper. A neatly folded one. Swara got her hands on the paper. Just then, a hand snatched the paper and she turned beside to see Sanskaar.

"What are you doing?" He took a glimpse of the paper. One of the hospital's papers. God! She had not seen it, has she? Sanskaar looked at Swara.

"I came to call you and the paper--" Swara paused abruptly. When she had no bad intentions, why was she giving an explanation?

Silence that prevailed made Sanskaar understand what another blunder he had committed, "I'm sorry. I-- I was just--" his words fumbled.

The issue was not about the paper. It was about them. Him. For a second, the one who questioned seemed like someone else under the skin of the Sanskaar she knew.

"Are you hiding something?" Sanskaar's eyes darted a little. There was something in his throat, something that sucked away all the words.

"You--" Swara stepped forward. Her hand reached out to his face. He flinched slightly at the warmth she gave to him, "Stop burdening yourself Sanskaar."

"Stop becoming a person you aren't. Stop drifting away--" From me. Us.
She closed her eyes for a second. The pain she hid started to re-surface and stain her features.

"I'll wait for you to come around. Just like always." She knew; she knew something happened and she still hoped. Sanskaar felt his own heart adorn with another crack.

He stepped back. The distance she covered was back between them. Her hand was now in the air, not on him. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

Swara held back her tears. Because she didn't know what went wrong to be solved. Because she didn't know what she had to fight against.

That gave her only one option. To leave, for now. And Swara left his room. Sanskaar exhaled a staggered breath. He tugged the paper in a random book and stepped out. 

"What took you both so long? Come, have breakfast." Asha said. She managed to set all the dishes on the table and she was waiting for them.

"Dadi, you both should have your breakfast. I-- something came up. I should go." Swara could not stay back anymore. The more she does, the more this silence would kill her.

Asha gave a questionable look to Swara and then Sanskaar. He had not spoken a word, that was very odd of him, "Then you should."

Swara passed her usual bid adieu to Asha and was out in no time. Sanskaar followed her downstairs. She didn't have the heart to say bye.

Neither did Sanskaar. They stood together. It was only her aching eyes that spoke to him more, "You should go." He made a reminder.

She said nothing to that. But came with another, "Don't make me wait for too long." Swara emphasized instead and she left on her own.

Sanskaar almost stepped ahead and stopped. Minutes before she seemed happy. So happy and look at what he had done to her? Aditya called him Swara's happiness.

Only if he knew,  How wrong it was.

~

Swara had been stuck with a haywire of thoughts. All of them about him. She could not spot the reason of what or where it all went wrong.

Nothing major nor minor happened. And even if it did, Swara knew they could have sorted it out. Together. There was no way he could behave like that.

So distant

So far away from her; while he was right before her sight. Swara's support did not reach him- earlier, he stepped back. Sanskaar never did that before.

Or did he refuse to take her support? Tears brimmed, enough to blur her vision that she blinked it away. Swara didn't know the exact answer but whatever it was, it stung so bad.

She felt the alarm blare. Of things she had not dreamt; of things she hated going - a goodbye. She hoped it was not the case because she could wait for him.

But deep down, Swara already felt this wait might prolong for too long.

"Shona! Come let's play." Mia's exclaim distracted Swara from her misery. She pulled her hand to take her sister downstairs.

"Go play Mia. I'm not coming." She did not want to damp the little one's spirits with her somber mood.

"I told you, " Jay walked in, "Your sister will not come to play. Forget the chocolate you made a bet with." He teased further.

Mia batted her lashes and her lips jutted. Swara knew, a big drama was tagged along with all that innocent actions she pulled. She sighed.

"Stop! I am coming." Otherwise she had no choice. This little brat could throw a fit which she was not ready to console. It was her morning that was ruined. Swara didn't want to ruin Mia's.

"Choco is mine!" Mia threw her hands up and looked at Jay with a daring gaze, "As you wish, your highness." Jay bowed down and scooped her off the couch.

The room that seemed gloomy to Swara was now filled with laughters. Happier ones. She could not promisingly say the very happiness reflected on her.

Yet, Swara could try it for others.

~

Sanskaar and Asha had a wordless breakfast after Swara's departure. In a while, he too left to return back soon for lunch.

Home was silent. Oddly, even with her and her grandson who resided in it. But again it was the very morning that changed the equation.

This silence was heavy to shudder away;  like a calm before the storm. Asha tried to keep herself occupied with some little cleaning here and there.

She reached her grandson's room. As expected, everything was settled in its own places. Except for a book that was on the study and not the shelf.

Asha grabbed the book to place it in the shelf. But what she didn't expect was a folded paper to fall from the pages on her feet.

A paper between pages? She managed to take the paper and unfolded it. One sight of it and the paper was again back on the floor.

Asha crumbled down on the mattress. So he knew-- Sanskaar knew her health ailments and she thought he had forgotten to collect the reports or was ignorant.

The secret she had concealed under her for months was out-- and she had no idea about it. Tears slipped down her face, her gaze stilled over that paper;

Now fallen.

Four hours later Sanskaar returned home and that's how he found her. Seated on the bed, tear stricken face and eyes stilled somewhere.

He dashed to Asha and sat on his knees, "Dadi! You-- are you okay? Are you in pain?" Sanskaar's hands caressed all over her face and back to arms.

Asha's eyes teared up more. The panic her grandson was going through was such an unbearable sight for her, "Why didn't you ask me?"

He halted. Instead, Sanskaar followed the place where Asha seemed to stare. The paper. Ah! That damned paper he forgot to put on the place.

"Why didn't you ask me Sanskaar?" Asha enquired him again. He had several reasons but there was one thing that majored it all, "Because you wouldn't tell me."

She pressed her lashes down. More tears streamed on her face, "I am only a burden. Saving me would do nothing for you, my child."

"And do you know what it costs me if I lose you, dadi?" It was anger and tears that shimmered in his eyes, "I will become a nobody, again."

A nobody-- Another tear fell down. Her grandson who she cradled and fed with own hands would have no one to his side. Asha hated to admit, yet it was the truth.

"I will be ruined. I cannot survive if--" Sanskaar stopped. Either it was Asha's sobs nor his very own fear- he didn't know what it was.

Asha pulled him up to embrace him, "Shh" She cooed. Just like the same way when she came to know her the little Sanskaar had nasty scrapes on his knees because he was bullied and he refused to tell anyone.

It was a fresh memory. Even as a kid, despite all he went through her boy never complained. When she enquired, all he gave her and his grandfather was the best smile.

"Don't leave me." Sanskaar buried more into Asha. His hold over her tightened. Unsaid failures and troubles for weeks numbed him.

The weight only kept increasing and he couldn't reduce it. But now that Asha's warmth seeped through him, it all melted in a stream of tears.

"This cannot go on, Sanskaar. These hospital trips make me weary. Each time I get bed-ridden it is you who suffers the most." Asha caressed his hair.

"I can't see you like that." He withdrew from her embrace, "So do you want me to watch you wither? Do you think that makes it easier for me?" Sanskaar's tone faltered as he looked away.

"Sunny--" Asha called him but his head hung low. He refused to look at her, "Being at the hospital would limit me from being with you. Being in my home. That's not what I live for!

The least I could do for you is to stay beside you. Cook all that you love and watch you grow. Enough of all these tiring things you do for me."

Sanskaar said nothing. He stared at those old palms that held him, "The struggle is mine. I'll take care of it so," He got out of her grip and now, it was he who held hers, "If not for yourself, then it is for me."

"Fight for me." Because he was going to give it all. Everything in. Not that Sanskaar could ever doubt the worth of it. But if not for Asha's support, nothing would work.

"Am I asking for too much?" When Sanskaar looked at her with hopeful red eyes, Asha could not deny. Her boy seemed completely torn to accept the denial she wanted to offer.

It could be the least thing to do. Fight for him. Sanskaar wanted her to fight a battle. But he would never know,

It was a fight against a losing battle.

~

Sanskaar watched the dying sun that bled tints of red and orange and how all those colours blended with the strokes of the darker blue.

She-- Sanskaar turned. Asha had just gone to sleep after they ate lunch. The exhaustion managed to pull her for a very required rest.

The day turned out to be physically and emotionally worn-out for both of them. Not even for a second he expected things to pan out like that.

All of these had occupied that Sanskaar forgot what was happening outside. He didn't excuse his part-time owner for a leave.

He grabbed the phone. 15 Calls from his part-time owner. Sanskaar would be dead meat tomorrow, he should better get ready to hunt for another job.

Just as he swiped down the notification, an email caught his eyes. There was a tremble when he opened the mail from law school. It was the last mail from their side.

Last day to confirm his seat and pay the fees-- he ignored it all these days. And he would continue to do so. Sanskaar placed the mobile back on the table.

There were selective things that mattered so much to him. One of them was his ambition- law. A passion he grew under the wings of his grandfather.

And today, he let the last chance slip through his own fingers. The very own chance for which he worked so hard to gain.

It was right there and he let that go.

Sanskaar had been doing that a lot lately; letting go. So there drowned another ship he built for years and all he could was to stand. Watch it sink as his heart does.

This was how much he could do. Mourn. Because sinking ships cannot be retrieved to its original glory. Once gone; it is gone. He had very little time to mourn for what he lost.

Dreams that had started to decay. A part of him decayed along while the others bled. Sanskaar did not have tears anymore but there were screams in his throat and throb in his heart.

He was almost there-- almost touched happiness of what he dreamt and it was snatched away. Sanskaar should have become used to it.

To have dreams that he could only dream but never have. Because happiness was not his embrace and it was grief; grief of waves came to shatter and remind the reality.

Sanskaar stared at the sky. The sky no more coloured in shades. It was one colour- dark; mostly black. That's when he realised the colour does not exist where there is no light.

And his life had no light, so dreams cannot colour him too.