He was lying in his bed. In a curious manner to say the least. All of his paraphernalia lay scattered throughout his study. It wouldn’t make a difference to the untrained eye as all of his books looked identical. They were thick and had varying permutations of alphabets,( the only common string….”EE”) inscribed on them. The environment had an air of uneasiness about it.

It all started when he was in the eleventh grade.

His father was adamant that he would opt for the medical stream. So, with a grim face and a motionless mind he accepted whatever came his way without question(Such a fool) and began to attend his coaching classes for some “MAIN” thing. But the funny thing is, nobody even cared to ask what the actual “MAIN” thing in his life was.

Time passed and so did his examinations, but the outcomes weren’t favorable.

Soon, he was standing at the threshold of his board examinations which came to a “dead” end  as well.
On the morning of his biology exam, he lay asleep on his bed. The pages of Veer Bala Rastogi where life expectancy was  discussed was kept open.  A big green question mark(like that of the riddler) was drawn beside the header.

I think he wanted to become a percussionist. Sadly, he had no one but him to listen to his tunes( and danced to others).

But here he is , “my body” asleep forever.

And I am his “soul”.