This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 11; the eleventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
He sat next to Malini, listening to an unclear rant. Vyasan always dreamt of this moment. He recognised every word she spat out, yet never understood what she was on about. He thought about the hidden truth. None of Vyasan’s friends had even known anything about him but for the mere facts of the worldly living. He refrained everyone from knowing him, he trusted nobody. But no one knew of his intent. He never expressed this. Vyasan always told self that he was his judge, jury and executioner.
He heard a familiar voice calling out to Malini. He recognised that disdained smile. He couldn’t figure out the name. He stood up, momentarily leaving Malini’s side, to greet. He then knew it. No one will see him again. He was mere smoke of memory. He turned to see Malini with a photo of him garlanded. A wind blew, Malini dropped the photograph shattering the glass, he was being sucked away from Malini to be hidden.