Bigg Boss 19: Daily Discussion Thread - 10th Oct 2025
Bigg Boss 19 - Daily Discussion Topic - 11th Oct 2025 - WKV
COURSE TOGETHER 10.10
Deepika finally breaks her silence on exit from Spirit and Kalki
THALI KA BAINGAN 11.10
Yeh Rishta Kya Kehlata Hai Oct 11, 2025 Episode Discussion Thread
Masterminds-Pari n RV
Tum se Tum tak episodes - EDT #2
Rumour - Alia Bhatt In Kalki 2
Anupamaa 10 Oct 2025 Written Update & Daily Discussions Thread
Is Janhvi Kapoor a better actress than Aishwarya Rai ever was?
Kyunki episode Summary with pics : Oct 11
✦ Font-astic Voyage Contest Voting Round 2 | Invites ONLY ✦
Happy Birthday Amitabh Bachchan
Out now song - Rahein Na Rahein Hum - Thamma
Sakshi Tanwar to enter Kyunki
East or West, Farhana is da beshhhttt
Deepika appointed as India's first Mental Health Ambassador
V| November.
Author : Richa
Genre : Angst
Pairing : PriVeer
Summary/Synopsis: The Oberoi Princess and The Common Cop. Love versus vengeance. Guilt versus resentment. Who will win and who would be left standing out in the cold?
In one kiss, you'll know all I haven't said.'
Pablo Neruda.
Guilt was an evil mistress.
Priyanka Singh Oberoi could attest to the fact. She had, after all, spent the last two years being chained to it. She could, if you asked her, tell you about the feeling of being fastened to its invisible chains, could go into detail about the whips that it struck you with at unexpected times, had almost waxed poetic about the dichotomy of pain and relief. Because it was a relief. She deserved this, this carefully thought out punishment that was her life for the careless thoughtless act that she had committed. She had taken the cowards way out, had found freedom in her slavery. And wouldn't that just flip out her dad and Shivaay Bhaiya, the idea of an Oberoi being a slave to anything. They were an entitled lot, the Oberois. Many lifetimes ago, she had thought she was different. Life had proved her wrong. She was just as selfish and blue-blooded as the whole rotten lot of them.
It wasn't as if she hadn't tried to do the right thing. She had gone back to the scene of crime the next morning, after spending a sleepless night berating herself over her actions. When she had reached there, though, she had seen the red siren of the cop car blinking. The place had been swarming with cops and Priyanka had realised that she wasn't all that righteous, after all. She had seen her whole life flash before her eyes, and when push came to shove, she hadn't been ready to sacrifice her life for someone else. No matter that that someone was a victim of her thoughtless, entitled whims.
What Ifs had become a daily part of her life since then. What if she hadn't been stubborn about wanting to drive that day? What if she had not stopped Om Bhaiya from helping that lady? What if she had confessed everything to the cops the next morning? What if Om Bhaiya had been a better human than he was a brother? What if she wasn't such a coward? What If, What If, What If. They were good, these questions. They even made her feel guilty, but not enough. Nothing was enough. Not watching her brother sink into depression, taking the help of drugs to ease his pain. Not the possibility that she had killed someone. Not even the threat of her brother going to prison for her sins.
For her, ACP Ranveer Singh Randhawa wasn't an inspector, a human or a brother. For her, he was karma. And really, she had been waiting for it. Two years was too long of a time to passively wait for a punishment you knew was coming for you. She didn't have the courage to do the right thing. She wasn't a leader like Shivaay Bhaiya or her dad. Nor was she a second-in-command like Om Bhaiya or her Mom. Not always actively participating in the war but always there to watch your back when you need them. To cover your back, to stand up for what is right. She was nothing. Someone who had to be protected. Like all things in life, here also, she had waited for justice to come find her, to do her bidding. She had detested it at one point. This inherent need of the males of her family to behave like Papa Bear. But life had taught her, had shown her that she deserved it. Her family was right to keep her in a cage because look what had happened the one time that she had tried rebelling, had tried to do something spontaneous. Lady Macbeth had nothing on her when it came to seeing the red on your hands.
Their first meeting had been a dream come true. The full moon, the stars, the feel of his arms around her as he kept her from tripping over herself. He had broken her fast and she had an epiphany that this might be a sign of things to come. Self-preservation had made her run like the hounds of hell were behind her. The next morning had proved her right. It was like he was systematically going through all of the Oberois except the one who was the real culprit. Shivaay Bhaiya, Om Bhaiya, Shakti Uncle and Dad. He had even tried to go after Annika but hadn't Shivaay Bhaiya nipped that thought in the bud.
It was disgusting, this pull that she felt towards him. He was out to destroy her whole family and all she could wonder about was the colour of his eyes. All the times that he had pulled her to himself, caged her in his arms and she still didn't know the exact brown of his eyes. Was it whiskey brown? It was possible, because he was addictive like the alcohol. One couldn't be held responsible for what one did under his influence. Or maybe they were brown like the earth. This had a high probability as well. Wasn't he a manly man, completely connected to his roots? Didn't he use his hands, heck, his entire body to earn his living? He wasn't suave like her brothers, didn't build his body in the gym like Rudra Bhaiya. No. His athletic build was a result of chasing after criminals, may be the rigorous training that he had undergone in the police academy. She had a feeling she would never really find out. How could she? She never had the courage to look him in the eye. She was always a stuttering, bumbling baboon around him, even more so than normal.
She was well versed with Stockholm syndrome. She had done her research on it, had read books about it. She'd had do. After watching her parent's relationship for twenty-one years, she had known there was something inherently wrong with it. And all the Oberois seemed adamant on continuing the tradition. Shivaay Bhaiya and Annika. Om Bhaiya and Gauri. This, if nothing else, proved that she was a true Oberoi. Why else would she still feel this connection towards him even after he had come open about his true intentions? At first, she had been horrified. For his sister. To know that she had caused this, to see her lying on the bed and not moving, breathing through a tube as life passed her by. That feeling had only intensified when she had seen his nephew. A son who would probably never get to know his mother. Because of her. She had almost fallen down, her knees buckling down under too much pressure, the weight of her sins too much on her slight frame. Soon enough, though, selfishness had come creeping in. Snippets of what he had been saying had filtered in. Wedding. Vengeance. Pain. In that moment, she had been her mother. And she had vowed that she would never ever 'be that. She had run from there before he could see the terror on her face.
The retreat had changed it all. The fact that he had helped her, had saved her, was astounding. She, who was the reason for his sister being in a coma. She, who didn't even have the decency to apologize properly to him. He had proved that he was good, had proved that he was deserving of that uniform. He had performed his duty irrespective of his feelings towards her. Hadn't that made her feel two inches tall?
It had taken three months for her to build up her courage. She would do this. She would confess her feelings for him and apologize. She would fly his sister to the best neurosurgeon in the world so that she could have a fighting chance. They could both take care of his nephew until his sister was well enough. She would atone for her sins, would beg for forgiveness. For the first time in ever, Priyanka Singh Oberoi had felt optimistic. It had all gone to waste once he had heard what she was proposing.
Atonement?' he had scoffed. You call this your atonement, this flimsy excuse for an apology? Did you think that you would throw some money around, would use the Oberoi name and everything would be fine and dandy? That I would take you in my arms and twirl you around for finally owning up to your actions? My sister is lying there in that bed, not speaking, not moving, not opening her eyes. i have tried everything. I have asked nicely and I have asked angrily. I have cried and I have begged. But she doesn't get up. I see my nephew growing up without his mother. She is missing all the important moments in his life. The only memory he is going to have of her is of her laying on this bed, wasting away to nothing. And you think all of these things can be solved by using your family's influence?'
B-but Ranveer, I l-l-love you-u.'
What do you know about love, Priyanka? To love somebody means to respect somebody, to trust somebody, to sacrifice for somebody. And you? You cannot see beyond your selfish needs for a second. Even after you knew that you had hit somebody with your car, you didn't stop. You decided not to help. Do you realise that maybe if she had been taken to the hospital in time, she would not be here like this? Maybe they could have saved her, done something. But for you, saving yourself was more important than someone's life. Don't stand in front of me and talk about love, Miss Oberoi. You wouldn't know it even if it bit you on your behind.' Ranveer had sneered and left.
All of which had led to this moment, outside the jail. It had been a shit storm. Her family had raged and threatened and cried. They had warned of severe consequences. Chotti Maa had even blackmailed her using a knife and her wrist. But nothing had worked. She had remained undeterred. The time had come for her to pay for her crimes. She had gone to the police station after Ranveer had left that day, confessed her crime and waited for them to handcuff her. Instead the Commissioner had called her father. They didn't dare lay a hand of the Oberoi princess. Her father had stormed in, his face like thunder, demanding answers. Once he had got them, he wasn't pleased. He had told her that he would take care of everything, would sacrifice the last of his pennies for her. It had taken him two hours to comprehend that she wanted this, needed this. Even if it weren't for Ranveer's harsh words, this was where she had been headed. She was tired of the fear and the guilt and the shame.
She had asked just one thing of her family. To not come with her when they finally took her away. She would fall weak if she saw their faces, their eyes brimming with pain. She had expected that they wouldn't listen, would strong arm their way into every situation they thought she needed saving from. What she hadn't expected was seeing him. There he was, leaning against his Jeep, his glasses on his face hiding his eyes from her. She decided that if he took them off today, she would finally look into his eyes and see their colour. She wouldn't spend the next five years of her life wondering about them.
Ranveer, w-what are y-y-you doing her-re?'
Thank you.' He whispered. Two words. Who knew that these two words would contain the keys to her cage, the elixir to her life.
Finally, finally she was free.
She turned around to go but he caught her arm. Pulled her to him. Took of his shades. Amber. With flecks of gold. Ignored the outrageous ruckus that her family was creating. Looked at her for a bit. And then he leaned into her, his lips touching her. She gasped in surprise, giving him a chance to enter her mouth. He tasted like the rain. She gripped his arms, leaning on him to maintain her balance as her knees had given away. He supported her, tasting her lips like he wouldn't have a chance to do so for a long, long time. Which, he wouldn't. she didn't know how long they stayed like that. Slowly, slowly, he moved back, his lips coming in for one last peck before he stepped back.
Maybe, it was a kiss of forgiveness. Maybe, it was a kiss of acknowledgement. Maybe, it had been a kiss of longing. Or maybe it had been a promise. All she knew that it had meant something and that he had told her, in his own way that she would get the answer once she gets out. For today, for now, this was enough. More than enough.
She smiled.
End.
Author : twerping
Genre : Light humour/Angst
Pairing : RuMya
Summary/Synopsis: In which Rudra makes certain discoveries and Soumya learns to stop trusting first impressions. Set prior to the party to unite Shivay and Tia.
"Bhai, how much?" Rudra asked the rickshaw driver. The stone faced man nodded towards the meter. Rudra stepped out of the auto rickshaw after handing over a few bills.
Some may wonder what unfortunate turn of events would have caused the great Rudra Singh Oberoi to travel in a rickshaw through the streets of Mumbai. For them, it has to be explained that it was quite a few deeply disturbing discoveries that had led to this low point.
The first discovery that set off Rudra down this path of ignominy was the mysterious phone call. Ever since she had succeeded in throwing him out of his own room, Rudra's feelings about this chit of a girl had gone through many changes.
The tempestuousness of the early days of their acquaintance had mellowed down over time. Living under the same roof does that to you. Although Sumo was quite a difficult woman, one can't possibly argue and fight all the time. Neither could he hide the fact from his friends that 'Soumya' was someone he knew only too well. So after the first few days of open warfare,they had settled into an uncomfortable truce that had then quite surprisingly turned to an awkward friendship that neither was prepared for.
But that did not make Sumo any less difficult. Take for instance her decision to suddenly rip off all the posters of Franco Columbo and Sangram Chougule off his walls. He had got the one of Franco from his trip to Los Angeles. It had cost his driver a parking ticket and she had just tossed it away like last week's newspaper! She had let the ones of Ali remain though thankfully. Anyway, so he had wanted to salvage the poster of Columbo and had entered the room when she wasn't around. It was her fault really that she had left the phone on the bed. He most definitely wasn't trying to check her phone but what was one supposed to do when the phone started to ring?! He had picked it up and the display had flashed a photo of Sumo with some guy. It wasn't Rehaan and it wasn't any of the nerds from college with whom she wasted her time. Ankit, the name read. Before he could drop the phone or answer it, Sumo had charged into the room, snatched the phone from his hands and shouted at him to not snoop around her room! 'Her room'!! Rudra was too stunned to think of a scathing response to that and by the time he did, he was well out of the room and walking down the corridor. He had turned around but she was still standing there, hands folded and shooting glares in his direction that were totally uncalled for. Since that incident, Rudra's mind had focused on discovering who this mysterious Ankit fellow was.
The second discovery was that while Sumo never bothered to leave the room when Rehaan called her (and that idiot did call much too often to be considered anything other than clingy!), there were some phone calls that made her leave the room with a shuttered look on her face. After these calls, she would come back looking quite happy. Rudra had assumed these were from her mother but after the incident with the phone, he followed her out as many times as he could manage without arousing the suspicion of his nosy family. Some of these calls were indeed from her mother, clear by the way she addressed her. But at other times, the conversations appeared more cryptic and Rudra's curiosity was stoked even further. Things had come to a breaking point when Rudra heard her on the phone promising to meet this Ankit.
"It's an important day for me as well, Ankit!" Sumo had whispered into her phone.
From behind the pillar, Rudra had trembled with excitement. "Aha!" he had thought, "So the goody goody Sumo IS two-timing Rehaan!" His elation made him miss out on what Sumo was saying. But when he did pay attention once again what he heard had made him want to cast away all attempts to hide himself and make that self-righteous goody two-shows take back every single insult she had thrown at him for being a Casanova!
"You know I love you, Ankit. Never forget that. I am always there for you."
Rudra had withheld himself with great effort. He wanted to catch her red-handed. The impact of that would be just sufficient enough to stop her lecturing him at every turn. However he did not know that the opportunity to do so would present itself before him this soon and so had been caught unprepared.
It had been just another regular day at college. Professor Sharma had thrown him out of class for failing to answer when asked what topic they would be discussing that day. He had found Chuggy, his buddy, in the canteen. Chuggy, as was the norm had arrived late and instead of going to the class and being thrown out for being late,had headed straight for the canteen to fortify himself for the next period. Rudra found him there and began to explain that it was not possible to know what they would be discussing in class since they had not yet started discussing anything. Rudra was not someone whose complaints could be voiced in less than five minutes. Chuggy settled in to listen, armed with his usual plate of dosa when Rudra suddenly stopped. Sumo had walked in. It was still class hours. And unlike Rudra, Soumya Tendulkar did not get thrown out of classes. He would have called her over but she had briskly walked towards a table that was occupied by someone else. Looking in that direction, Rudra had nearly choked on his glass of water. It was the guy from the picture! It was Ankitl!! The next sequence of events happened so quickly that Rudra never got to confront Sumo or do any of the things he had planned to on catching her red-handed. She and Ankit had quickly walked out of the canteen. Rudra had managed to set his glass down and follow them outside. But it was only in time to see her clamber on a bike behind that slimy guy who was, on top of everything else, clad in a leather jacket! There was no time to run to the car park to get his car. He rushed out of the gates after them, flagged down the first rickshaw that came his way and thus it was that Rudra Singh Oberoi, son of Tej Singh Oberoi, travelled in an auto-rickshaw through the streets of Mumbai in full daylight.
*******
Soumya cast her eyes around the flat. The shelves full of books, the sofas, the paintings on the walls, the pictures on the tables...everything was as she remembered. The only thing missing was the person who had brought her here, her brother.
Ankit came and stood beside her, his arms around her shoulders,anticipating this reaction. She turned into the warmth he offered and allowed the tears to flow. In a world where everyone wanted to move on, forget the past, forget him... Ankit alone could feel something of what she lived with. She knew that he woke up to the same emptiness and maybe felt it even more at times. This apartment had been their world. It had been their home, their shelter from all the ugliness that lay outside. Every corner of the place was full of memories--moments of joy and pettiness. But mostly, this apartment had been their fortress, their little piece of heaven. But now with Bhaiya gone, the memories waited at every corner of this place, ready to attack the ones left behind.
Soumya allowed herself to be led towards the couch. This was her place always. Ever since Bhaiya had moved in with Ankit, she had visited them, telling her mother that she was going to meet her friends at the cinema. She had liked Ankit from the very first meeting. Curled up on that couch, she had watched her brother grade question papers, his glasses balanced precariously on his nose. Ankit would suddenly arrive bearing coffee or Chinese takeaway and they would sit around, laughing, chatting, gossiping. Those evenings were some of the best memories she had of Bhaiya. Helping her with her homework, lending her books that he had set aside for her, making her taste the latest disaster that he and Ankit had cooked up and peppering everything with questions about how things were going at home. But never mentioning Aai, never asking what excuse his siter had to concoct to be able to spend those precious few hours with him. If Aai had suspected anything, she hadn't let on and Soumya was thankful of that. Throwing Bhaiya out of the house was more than what her teenage self could deal with. Preventing her from meeting him ever again would have broken her. But such were the ironies of life. What Aai could not, Life could and did.
Being more than ten years older than her, Bhaiya had been working for over two years by the time Soumya turned sixteen. He must have met Ankit much earlier but he decided to finally come out over dinner one night. Aai did not even try to understand what she was hearing from her son. She had left the room after Shaurya, the son she was so proud of, had told her that he was tired of pretending to be something he was not. That he and his flatmates weren't actually flatmates. That he did not want to marry a girl. That he was in love. Soumya had sat with her mouth open, suddenly feeling like she didn't even know the guy who had started talking like a stranger. But then Bhaiya had turned to her with a look of despair she had seen so many times on his face when he had argued with Aai. She had run to him after that, hugged him and everything had become just like it always was, just as it should be. But then Aai had come back. They had eaten the rest of the dinner in silence. After dinner, Aai had asked her to leave the room. She hadn't dared protest. On hearing the sound of the front door closing, she had rushed out to see Aai clearing away the dishes. Bhaiya was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Bhaiya?" she had demanded, brows furrowed, hating Aai for reasons still unclear to her adolescent mind. He was supposed to be staying over that night and she had already made plans to make him do her History project. Aai had not answered. Soumya had rushed to the landline to call him. Aai had snatched the receiver from her hand and had slapped her. Since then Bhaiya was never mentioned again between them. There was a silence that Soumya had hoped would be broken one day. She would reason with Aai. She would bring Bhaiya back. She would make their family whole again.
After the accident that killed him, Ankit had called them up from the hospital. Soumya had answered the phone. She had rushed to Aai, shouting, not knowing what else to do. Aai had stood in that clean kitchen and stared at her, not moving. Unrelenting till the last. Soumya had not waited. She had rushed to the hospital, not knowing what to do or think. In that crowded hospital corridor, Ankit had looked with hollow eyes at her. And the silence had remained unbroken. Aai had not attended the funeral.
*******
Rudra looked at the building Sumo had disappeared into. Now how would he figure out which floor? He entered the building. The series of letter boxes met his eye. Wood chipped in places,paint peeling off, the mail boxes suited the building. The names were all unfamiliar. He walked out with growing frustration. So close to his goal and yet so far! Walking over to the opposite pavement, he eyed the many balconies.Just as he was about to give up, luck favoured him. On the third floor balcony he spotted Sumo. Beside her stood the slimy git. Sumo was chatting away happily. She could have just dumped Rehaan if she was so happy with this git! Weird woman! He did not take the lift, afraid of making a mistake about the floor and walked up the dimly lit stairs. This building would make for a good setting for a horror film, he thought with a shiver. Trust Sumo to come up with such a creepy place for a love nest.
There were two flats on each floor but through careful calculation Rudra picked the one that would face the road and therefore would be the one with the balcony. He marvelled at his own circumspection. Agent Rudy was in action. He confidently pressed the calling bell. It was some time before the door was opened. The git stood before him. Without waiting to be invited in, Rudra walked inside, pushing the git aside.
"Sumo!" he demanded, voice hardly disguising the glee coursing through his veins.
Soumya was standing at the balcony. Ankit had gone to find out who had rung the bell. Hearing her name shouted out in that familiar voice, she turned in horror to see Rudra standing in the middle of the living room, hands on hips, with a triumphant smile on his face.
"What are you doing here?!" she managed to gasp out.
"Catching you out, you Miss Hypocrite!" Rudra said, his face turning to give a cold smirk towards Ankit.
"Rudra, shouldn't you be in college?!" she countered, confusion written over her face.
"Well, so should you!" His smile widened but instead of looking guilty, Sumo narrowed her eyes.
"Something important came up..." she gritted out but Rudra cut her short. He wouldn't let her talk her way out of this one. Oh no!
"I can clearly see that," he said. Feeling very pleased with himself, Rudra walked over to the sofa with the air of the detective at the end of the novel waiting to unmask the murderer. As he sat down, he spotted the photograph on the side table and suddenly came to a confused halt. It was the picture of Ankit kissing a man.
Soumya had not in her wildest imagination thought that one day she would break the silence before someone like Rudra. And when she did start talking, it was the rage that spoke for her, but the more he listened, the less angry she felt until all that was left was her grief and the emptiness in her life that was once her Bhaiya.
*******
Later that evening...
Soumya studied the lamps they had placed along the balcony railing. This day was difficult to get through each year but today something had changed. She and Ankit had lost so much on this day three years ago. Having the world snatched away from you was not something one could recover from. But they had tried. Each year they had spent this day together, valiantly trying to forget the immense loss and remembering those moments of joy and laughter. It was worth the effort. Lighting lamps around the house, poring through the albums, cooking together. But it always remained a brave effort. Despite everything, they could never find peace. They had lost too much. But something had changed with Rudra there. His presence somehow made her feel less lonely, less insane. Ankit and herself were both sufferers of a pain that society wanted to forget, did everything to invalidate. But he hadn't. Soumya released a sigh. Rudra knew who she was now. He knew about Bhaiya, about her failure at a task she had never started on to begin with. He knew of those painful details her relatives discussed in low whispers, falling silent when she approached, never talking to her, never talking of him, never talking of what their family had lost the day Shaurya Tendulkar died in a car accident. And before them she had pretended that she did not care, that she did not live with this vast emptiness within her, that at those moments when the pain was the strongest, every smile was a physical torture. She had so become used to wearing the mask hiding her real self that she barely thought of it as a mask anymore. But when anger and grief had made her toss it away, he had stayed. She had thought he would run on hearing what she had to tell him. But he hadn't. Soumya was beginning to feel this guy standing at a distance from her was not what she had thought him to be.
"Come here, Rudra." Sumo's face was lit with the soft glow of the candles she and Ankit had placed along the balcony. He walked over to her. Ankit had gone inside for a bit. The feeble flames cast soft bubbles of light that pushed the darkness back. It was a drop of light in an ocean of darkness but it was there-- vulnerable yet not to be ignored, defiant, resilient. As the flame cast its flickering light on her face, Rudra watched her. Today had been a day of surprises but standing beside her, on the balcony, watching the dancing beads of light, he felt an irrational sense of comfort.
It was the way he had felt on that awful day at the hospital when she had appeared out of nowhere-- an angel of hope. Today he had discovered a darkness in her that she had hidden so well. And it had suddenly made her less of the antagonist she had become ever since her arrival at his college and in his home. The darkness that she hid behind a mask of effervescent joy had reminded him of the mask he wore himself. Not wearing his scars as a shield like Shivay Bhaiya nor like a badge like O, Rudra had been lonely behind his mask.
Playing the clown had made those silent halls of the Oberoi Mansion ring with laughter even if only for a short while. And so he had. Desperately, defiant in his solitude. But today he had found a fellow warrior. For the first time in his life, he had felt something inside him loosen. Not wanting to let go of the feeling that made him reach out and take her hand, Rudra drew her closer to himself. She didn't protest. Something had changed between them. Rudra wasn't surprised as he felt the pressure of her palm around his hand tighten for a moment before relaxing. She understood. At that moment, he saw once more that Angel he had met not long ago who had seemed to be the most perfect woman he had ever beheld. Only now he knew that this Angel was not the like the ones strewn across the garden of his home--made of marble and lifeless. Sumo was made of pools of such anger, such hurt, such grief and unfulfilled wishes that cold stone could never experience. He looked at her glowing face, her eyes reflecting the light from the candles. She felt his gaze and looked up at him. When Rudra leaned over and pressed a light kiss on her forehead, he thought he heard her catch her breath. Drawing back, he studied her face, now tinged with a faint blush, her eyes darkening in a way that sent tendrils of anticipation shooting through him, her lips,inviting him...
"Ahem..."
Rudra and Soumya released each other, their faces beet red.
"Sorry to barge in like this.." Ankit's eyes were twinkling with hidden amusement even as he wore an expression of mock shame on his face. Rudra snorted.
"Well, Somu, shall we do it like every year?" Ankit turned towards Soumya. Rudra observed, in his hand Ankit held a white Chinese lantern.
Sumo lifted the lantern without a word. Rudra watched them unfold the device, holding himself back, uncertain of his welcome. Suddenly, Sumo looked at him with a grin and said, "So, lazybum, will you deign to help us by lighting this thing?"
Rudra did.
The three of them stood on the balcony, watching the white ball of light float away through the dark sky. Perhaps as their eyes followed its obstinate journey through that vast darkness, in each heart rose a wish to push back the chains that threatened to capture their souls, binding them, drowning them in despair, light winning against darkness till time made it cease to matter.
*******
