Cold metal of the doorknob was under his hold for a few minutes now. Ten? Fifteen? Or more? Sanskaar bore no answers to this regard.

One huge breath and he pushed the door open. The door that once led to his safe abode. His home. No longer home-- Sanskaar gulped.

Dim blue lamp was the only source of light despite the morning sun. Not a single ray had reached in; for years now. He glanced around.

Reminiscences acted like a film before Sanskaar's eyes. Every joy, every sorrow, every fall and every strength was settled in the nook and corner of this home.

Homes are made in people but when people leave; it is the place they lived that bears their memories. They loom even when the doors are locked.

Sanskaar looked around. Sealed rooms, used furniture and frames-- some of them on the wall. Last time, he broke one of them.

A lengthy crack ran across the frame and amidst all, the toddler himself behind had a huge grin as he held his grandparents' fingers.

He ran a subtle finger over it-- the picture caged behind the fragmented glass. Wasn't his life also the same?

Nearly ruined with piercing pieces that would not fall. Instead, they make bruises one after the other for him to bleed. He bleeds but he stays; caged.

Both the pictures had the same fate.

Rings of his phone gathered Sanskaar's attention. The call he awaited was here, he should leave. Sanskaar had no intentions of visiting home.

Maybe it was because of the dream? He turned and the dining table remained empty, dark in a corner. Too much of contrast to what he saw in his dreams.

Little things in life for others had become a far fetched reality for Sanskaar. People, lights even food-- they weren't the same anymore for he had none. 

Things have changed, people have gone and moved on. If anything that remained the same was this home and him- frozen in time.

Sanskaar sighed. The door to home was locked again to be abandoned. But was the home only abandoned or his own self too? Well, the answer was obvious.

~

Seated on the couch, Swara looked at her almost empty penthouse. A few unused cardboards littered across the floor and her almost packed suitcase.

The penthouse was her private space afterall the profession that demanded social interactions. Swara turned to the glass wall in the main hall.

Manhattan; below greeted her with its splendid view. Busy lanes, vibrant lights and a little away; times square was on a perfect picture to her vision.

With lights off, the city's glorious hues would still reach her and coloured her along. No matter how strong the origin was, when it reached her they were softened.

Just some gentle traces of it on her skin. Together- the city in full glory and she, a distant reflection of it glowed despite the pitch dark sky.

Somehow it is through darkness the colours attain it's full shine; not in the light people refers to stay. Darkness cannot be as bleak as they say.

Wasn't she an live experiment to them?

Swara had passed time just by watching the chaotic sight but all muted in sound. And sounds- well, she always had an alternative. Music.

Recorded piano notes in the background and Swara looking out- That's how Jatin found her. The combo was something he had become accustomed to.

"Last night huh?" Jatin passed a comment. Swara turned and stepped forward, the colours are gone but vibes stayed. With a soft grin she offered a seat; one last time.

"The fact still doesn't sink in me, Jatin. I've got to remind myself often to ensure it's all true." Swara leaned into the couch, dazing somewhere in no particular point.

"Will our flight tickets confirm that you aren't dreaming?" He showed their flight tickets, his and hers for a permanent transfer of their base.

Swara sighed. Still, all the happenings felt like a dream; the sorts she always imagined and waited. Now it was here- it continued to look like a far fetched dream.

"Maybe you've been away from home for a long time." Jatin reasoned. Swara missed home but she barely initiated to make visits. Reason? Unknown.

The last visit was Aditya's wedding- two weeks, two years ago and that was her biggest visit in comparison to all other years.

She couldn't last longer; too many memories. 

"I know what is missing." Jatin's serious tone made Swara look at him demanding answers, "Food!" The sudden cry almost got her taken aback.

"Your brain needs energy to stop thinking weirdly."  What did she even expect? - by the time Swara realised, Jatin managed to drag her half the way to the entrance.

He had to take the immediate step before she dead-pan refused him. It was their last night and Jatin wanted her happy rather than being all damped.

"Wait! Let me grab my wallet atleast." She tried to halt from being dragged, not that it affected him, "I shall gladly be your wallet tonight so stop trying."

Jatin's words came along with his signature flashy smirk. It was all clear- he would not give up. Swara sighed, the hand that tried to detangle herself surrendered.

Was there any use talking to a deaf foodie?

~

Sunday dining in Gagodia's became a wholesome affair. The entire family manages to gather to dine delicacies they prepare together.

Another funny school incident on Mia's narration, laughters bloomed on each other's face. The youngest was still their sunshine. 

"My head spins at the thought of assignments, tests, exams, special classes. Is there any way to skip high school?"

Mia mused aloud barely aware of all the eyes stuck to her. The pressure seemed so high and it already started to exhaust her with the continuous cycle.

"If school work is troublesome, college work would wreck your entire being." Shefali scowled at her daughter. She could be such a bratty daughter at times.

"Take a break then." Aditya suggested. A hand scooping a serving of lasagna on Mia's plate, "Should l?" Her doe eyes beamed in delight.

"Come to either of us if it's difficult. We can always sort it together." Pavithra looked up from her untouched plate to provide the needed assurance.

Mia did a thumbs up and started to dig in, moaning in satisfaction. Aditya pushed Pavithra's plate in a slight move as he replaced it with freshly sliced fruits.

Astonishment filled her gaze as she watched his actions. Small yet meaningful gesture for a secret they shared. The little smile curled up on his face acknowledged her adoration without seeing.

"And ignore your mom." Others were bewildered at Aditya's calm statement. Shefali was riddled up and Mia was ready for the upcoming show.

She wanted popcorn. Nevertheless her favourite lasagna made by Aditya bhai would very much suffice instead.

Sharmistha had to interfere with the 'fight' and ended up becoming a part of the chaos. Shekhar- a silent spectator but his lightened features did speak loud for him.

Reema returned with a jug of water, eyes filled with nothing but adoration for the happy family picture they make from afar.

And that's when her gaze shifted to a particular seat that remains for years.  Well, it was not a complete happy family picture.

Just not yet.

~

Cup O' Joe- a two storey cafe etched with thousands of footprints on each flooring. The walls would have heard tales of all sorts- some giggles of friends, dreams of lovers and heart wrench of lost people.

Sanskaar didn't have intentions to walk inside but when he reached, somehow his legs led him the way. Each part of the cafe brought live films in the past of what it once used to be.

He just had an extra share of stories engraved- The billing counter sure had cash and printed bills but never a day without his textbooks placed under the desk and hushed retelling of the learnt lessons.

The kitchen would speak the scrambling foot to prepare orders, smell of coffee and  whiff of jokes by others to keep them all entertained through hectic work.

Good old times. Sanskaar glanced at the empty main floor of the cafe.  Some memories leave nostalgia that makes one go through all the life again; no matter how hectic it was then.

And one such was-- his gaze shifted to the flight of stairs. Sanskaar didn't have to climb all the way to know where his eyes shall set first.

The third table by the large glass frame- theirs. How many days had he kept the reserved card just to save the seat for her from others.

His lips graced a soft smile at the reminiscence. From budding as strong best friends to blooming enough to have small dates-- the cafe saw it all.

And so did it witness their fall too. Sanskaar turned away; the dull ache reached out for him from somewhere or maybe the ache had always been present.

"Cup O' Joe is reaching the right person." Rudra, the cafe owner's presence made Sanskaar leap a few steps to reach the older man.

This man- he carried the same smile throughout the years, restricted exchanges but no one can deny the warmth. He was all the same-- just that he grew older.

People turning old is a life cycle for everyone. Yet, for Sanskaar seeing people age further brushes the dust on his buried anxiety from the past.

"I could have never rested in peace if I had handed over this place to someone else." Rudra's eyes wandered around the place, both his hands clutched Sanskaar's.

Selling the cafe was the hardest decision Rudra ever made in the past few years if it weren't for the circumstances, "It had to be you among all."

The smile spoke more of trust and confidence and Sanskaar was not sure if he was ever worthy of such things, "The cafe shall be forever opened to you."

"Would you treat me like a customer then?" The tease didn't go unnoticed, "The moment you enter, you become the original boss." Sanskaar now held the hands as Rudra laughed.

These hands not only paid him but the same hands often encouraged him to go further. Rudra had quite some recollections when Sanskaar came to inquire about the part-time.

Sanskaar was young but the desperation in his eyes made him accept no matter how hesitant he was to hire a school-going student.

Now, it was to the same boy he was handing over the cafe, "When I started this cafe, I was called a fool by others. Who would put all their savings in a building right after their wife's death? "

Rudra stepped forward with a hand on the wall, "In all the chaos, this cafe stood my sole comfort when no one did and made me the person I am today. My daughter needs me in France.

Anyways, good things come to an end but then, I don't want the stories to stop echoing from this place just because I want to stop." Sanskaar placed a hand on his shoulder.

"And the echoes would always be heard no matter how far you go." That was an assurance Sanskaar could provide. Afterall, he had his own story to preserve here.

Rudra signalled a young boy from outside to come in. The bunch of keys jiggled as it kept changing hands until Rudra placed them into Sanskaar's.

"Now it is up to you to direct these echoes. It is all yours."

After a small farewell of their own, Rudra walked out to join the young boy- his grandson in his early teens. The legal process was already done a few weeks back.

For one last time, Rudra's eyes gauged the entire sight of the cafe before his grandson led the way from the place.

The legal process was done earlier and officially Sanskaar owned the place. He did have savings; afterall he barely had any purpose to spend money other than the basic needs.

But what came as a surprise was the fd amount his grandparents started for him two decades ago. None of them spoke about it.

The bank called out for him. Sanskaar was neither in need of the amount nor did he wish to continue the savings. He earned enough to survive for his ownself.

That was when Cup O Joe's sale reached him and that moment, Sanskaar knew he had to invest it.

The memories and nostalgia kept him occupied for a few minutes before he turned off the power switch with a musing.

The place was too special to give up to someone else. But now that it became his, Sanskaar wasn't sure what to do with it.

~

Flight travels weren't new to Swara.

Either the concerts with the music group nor her own venture into world tours, it had been flights that connected the distance to reach her destination.

But this time, her destination was not for any musical concerts or any career based travels. It was just a simple desire to return back to her homeland, her people.

Five and fourty in the morning, Jatin and Swara reached Delhi airport with two respective tickets for each- for Jatin to Mumbai and herself to Shimla.

They had to split ways for their boardings but when Swara showed him the ticket, Jatin almost had a heart attack.

"You can't be serious!" All that he could mutter was such words, still bewildered on what just happened.

Bali topped his vacation list for years. He had the entire plan cracked just for exploration but Swara having a sniff of it was a pure surprise.

"That's a very deserving break. Have fun, Das!" On that, Swara was off from Jatin's still stunned sight. But then, he knew this was her.

Noticing small gestures and spreading happiness to others. Jatin would have stood admiring the lost lady hadn't been for the announcement to his flight.

After another hour of travel in the air, Swara stepped in the boundaries of her hometown. Blue skies, gold sun- it seemed to be a pleasant start for the day.

Everything seemed better except for her black cap that kept the view half on everything. Nevertheless, once she reaches home everything will be fine.

Home- Swara's lips softly curled up. Years ago, it was just a mere residence for her providing comfort and shelter to the body but never the heart.

Time did change things; just a little late in her case. All her people started to live for themselves first. That alone brought more joy to them and the more they shared, the more it increased.

Now it was her turn to intensify those smiles, much bigger and better. Swara boarded a taxi back home, notes of jazz being played on the radio.

"Madam, Should l turn off the radio?" The taxi driver asked. His hand, almost ready to switch off the radio.

"Let it be, Uncle. Do you like Jazz?" Swara was quite equipped with interest to know his take on music.

"I don't." But his hands moved to a dull photograph placed on the rear mirror, "She likes it a lot. Her morning never gets fulfilled without hearing this music."

The adoration in his tone spoke more and so did the lingering fingers on the dulled picture, "When so many things changed, some just remains the same."

Ignition of the car started and the car slowly picked up a smooth pace. It was the same route back home just then there were so many changes from the last time.

Few trees were removed, some shops neither gone or replaced, new buildings were present-- Some changes fit just right while some didn't.

Swara could only wonder what this change could do to her life. But for now, it was her hometown's nostalgia; her and her favourite music accompanying amidst all.