He came out. It was a cloudy eve, birds were flying back to their nests, a strong wind was blowing barbarously, and the black serpents had engulfed the sky which after a while would start leaking. It was now thundering. A lonely bird was flying against the direction of prevailing wind, stumbling, and some dark plastics were trying to accompany it. Shyam went inside, it was terribly dark inside, the load-shedding had busted the switches off. He dived on the bed and took a deep breath. The mosquitoes were singing jovially, some had already started the feast; he was too lethargic to wipe them away. Instead, he let them suck. His stomach was empty. He was in no mood to cook today.
   “Shyam,” someone called him out from the door.
   “Come in,” he said tediously as he was certain who it was.
   “Why is the room so dark?” he said. “Now don’t say you even lack money to buy candles,” he added and sat behind him on the bed with a creak.
   Oh, sir, I’ll pay you the next week/month. I’ve applied for…..post and the salary is very reasonable. As soon as I get some advance, I’ll pay you, he used to say. But, today, he did not want to show any of those false pretenses to the heavy old man nagging him for his three months’ rent since last four months.
   “Shyam,” the landlord said patting him at his shoulder.
   “Oh, sir,” he got up lazily and rubbed his eyes, then spoke nothing.
   “Are you alright?”
   “Hmm,” he nodded tentatively.
   The landlord peered at the boy’s face and said,   “You look bilious, don’t you eat properly? And what is this?” he said looking around the dark room, “come with me, I’ve some spare candles. Have you cooked already?”
   The abnormal sympathy of the hoarse and stern man amazed Shyam a bit. Now, he felt like hugging him tight and sobbing loud on his shoulder, “I am sorry sir; I’ve not been able to be a good tenant.” That was all he could say.
   “It’s always there, but you need to take care of yourself. Look, how you’ve emaciated,” he said stroking him now. “You dine with me tonight. You aren’t going to cook,” and went away.
   But appetite was far away, perhaps he wanted to drink. But the teetotaler landlord was not sympathetic enough to let him do so. Indeed, something else was more dreadful now, more than his room being vilely dark or that he had not yet cooked or paid his rent for months or he had emaciated or his career was doomed. She had left him. He could probably never get her back again. He had planned to marry her and live a prosperous conjugal life with their kids whose names he had already thought of. Haplessly, everything had been shattered in a snap. Now he could probably never see her again nor meet her or talk to her or make her feel shy with his romanticisms. He was no more with her and she was gone.
   It was torrentially raining now. He went out again and stood on the balcony, the downpour assaulted him and after a while he was soaked sheer. But it was pleasant. And now he wanted to cry out loud, something inside him wanted to come out and fly to her. But he had to stay, sobbing in her memories till they faded away like an old photograph.