The Window Pain

By Himmank Gupta

Engulfed by the darkness of the room, two cracked eyes used to stare out from the corner of the window, behind the curtains, of a monstrous house; quiet, dirty and with a characteristic smell. He used to fix his gaze on those small children playing like the nodding flowers. The man had burned those nodding flowers a several times in his eyes with the fire of rage as life seemed unfair to him and his daughter which had choked his daughter to death 20 years ago due to outbreak of an epidemic. However, the fire was doused by the reflection of his daughter among those children which drenched his eyes with tears.

But today was different. No one peeped out of the window. No fire was raised and doused. The other day the house started stinking with nauseating smell. Investigations were laid down and the house was no more stamped monstrous.

The door was break opened and life rushed out from the room. The dead man lounged in his armchair embracing his 10yrs old mummified daughter and on the side, table lied a vial and papers with a note read as:

“I was a father. I wish I could give a 100 years to my daughter but here are 100 for yours.”

By Himmank Gupta