Samir looked outside the dilapidated window. It was barren everywhere. More so, inside the room filled with empty eyes and emptier hearts. Samir stood out from his peers, sporting a rosy glow that sparkled underneath his weather-beaten face. A song was dying to escape from his lips, but he curtailed himself mindful of the somber mood around him.
“Aren’t you feeling lonely, Samir?” Gulshan said in a gruff tone. His sunken eyes spoke of sleepless days and nights, and the bruises on his shoulders stung sharp in his voice.
He nodded his head defiantly as he clutched hard his side pant pocket. There was a strange sense of peace, and contentment in Samir’s demeanour. The men wondered and looked at him in suspicion. The smile that danced upon in the glint of Samir’s eyes and lay hanging at the deepest corners of his mouth didn’t escape any of them. They knew Samir was an extraordinary leader, but this was incomprehensible.
As death hung in the balance, fear gripped their souls, whipping them by the second like the eight arms of an octopus. Samir curled himself into a ball, drawing his long legs closer to his chest. Samit appeared entangled in the arms of someone. Someone dear… intimate!
Reading the group, Samir finally spoke,
“If today I breathed my last, then I’d die a happy man!”
He turned his back and hummed a faint lullaby to sleep.