He paid frequent visits to the grave of his dreams. He sobbed silently there, and then returned to 'his' world wearing a plastic smile. I often see him  doing this. He tried to make terms with practicality and tried to live a happy life. But little did he know that it was in vain. He had already died long back with his dreams. That day when he turned 48, he did something really weird. He kicked off his bike and disappeared into the thin air. They say he had turned 'weird'. And today when I visit the graveyard, I see one of the graves dug up as if someone had tried to take out something. I dare to peep into it and what I see - a bundle of plastic smiles! He had really turned 'weird'.

He again pulled out her hair clip and said, 
 he closely examined the document. It was a divorce paper. He angrily grabbed a pen nearby and exploded, "It won't take me even a moment to sign this shit". He signed the paper and threw it on her face. He was right. It hardly took a moment. But the moment was very long for her. In just one moment the journey of compromises of three years flashed before her eyes. She took the paper and the hair clip. She tied her hair high into a bun. The tattoo on her neck read: 'some birds can't be caged'.

It