I live above everyone and when my time comes, I fall to save all the living races. They call me Rain and I watch over the tale of the sky and earth every day. Though they might seem mingled, they are not just like many relations in the living world. Sometimes, I become the reason for the birth of these relationships and other times, I hide their tears and sorrows. Irrespective of their interpretation, I mostly cherish them choosing to be a spectator and sometimes a narrator too. Cover Photo by Pankaj Tottada “Tara! Tara... wake up dear, it’s time for your dance class!” said Nirmala, switching off the alarm set by Tara. It has been a routine for Nirmala waking her daughter ever since her husband passed away. Tara woke up and got ready for her class. Observing the time, she packed breakfast in a hurry and dropped it into her bag. She took her bicycle keys and drove down the lane and stopped near a tree to give breakfast to an old man who lived there in a small hut. Just like every other day, when given food, the old man smiled and blessed her.

As the cold winds touched the Prince, he rode triumphantly on his horse followed by two soldiers. He knew, he had earned the ride, the one he waited for a fortnight and as he rode his horse, his light blue cape cut the cold wind with the warmth of his anxiousness. Listening to the thunder of galloping horses, subjects walked out into the street to witness nature’s will. On the street mentioned two weeks ago, Prince Indrajeet waited for Lakshmi and its master. Observing the Prince filled with pride in earning his ride, a few of his subjects were worried about Lakshmi. Illustration by Sonam Jha Their faces turned pale under the black clouds hiding the fierce burning ball behind it. The wind grew colder as Lakshmi finally approached them. On top of her was her companion Vishnu. Resting on his horse, Prince Indrajeet raised his hand holding the demanded coin that appeared to everyone like a white dot in a dark world. While it felt as if nature had to surrender to tyranny, Lakshmi burnt like a golden flame eradicating the darkness.

At dusk, after a three-hour discussion, Parikshit rushed ahead of an old man in his sixties carrying his bag. As they reached the green Hindustan Ambassador waiting for them near the entrance of the music school, the old man wearing a white dhoti and dark green angavastram entered the car after Parikshit placed his bag in the back seat and opened the door for him. As the old man, Hastar settled, he confessed, “I was worried if you would have issues with what I was planning to tell you about Diya. However, after our meeting, I’m relieved.” Cover Photo by Pankaj Tottada With a smile, Parikshit mentioned, “Trust me, sir. I will report nothing more than what you have informed me. Your institute will receive the best advertising through this interview.” Glancing at the young interviewer, Hastar mentioned, “It’s good business for your newspaper too,” as Parikshit nodded, he continued, “Convey Akashvani my best wishes and thank you!”

Naina found her seat and placed her cabin baggage before resting beside the window. It didn’t matter to her what the others on the plane were doing as she was lost in her thoughts about her grandmother’s condition. There was a part of her that wished she had built a more affectionate relationship with her much sooner but now, it was too late to nurture a bond. While she was lost in her thoughts, a little girl arrived holding her grandfather’s hand and sat beside Naina in the middle seat while her grandfather sat in the last seat. Cover Photo by Ravindra Patoju Looking at her, Naina smiled but the girl didn’t. Wondering what happened, Naina extended her hand before introducing herself, “Hello little one! My name is Naina.” She looked at her grandfather before cautiously shaking hands. A moment later, she faintly whispered, “My name is Kreeti.” Hoping to cheer her up, Naina offered, “Would you like to sit beside the window?”

Every Sunday evening, as soon as Raghav returned from his Lord’s bungalow to his hut, he and his little sister went for a walk. She was three years younger to him and was named Lakshmi. From their hut, they crossed the paddy fields, where Raghav worked occasionally, after which they walked past their Lord’s guest house. A mile away from this guest house, resided river Champavathi and the closer the siblings got, they noticed that the roads ended first and this was followed by the absence of thatched roofs. They always felt they have entered their mother’s abode which was the dominion of nature. Cover Photo by Pankaj Tottada The siblings always reached the bank before the moon woke up and turned the blazing sky into a black blanket as they loved to witness the change while the river sang. The river was Goddess Champavathi herself and was worshipped by their mother before fever took her and the goddess’s materialistic form was their father’s livelihood until he was shot by Lord Andrew.

Long ago, in the ancient Vindhya kingdom, there lived a devout priest of Goddess Kaali. His wife died while giving birth to a boy. The priest named him Bhadra. He decided not to marry again and the boy grew up under his father’s care. When Bhadra was a young boy, he went to Kaali’s temple along with his father. But he was scared at seeing her imposing idol. He ran away in fear and did not return to the temple. His father tried to assure him that Goddess Kaali is fearful but she is also gentle and protects her disciples. But Bhadra was not to be convinced. He asked his father many questions. Why is she so dark? Why are her eyes bloodshot? Why does she take out her tongue like that? Why does she wear a Garland of skulls? Thinking of her would give him the chills. His father hoped that his fear would pass but Bhadra grew up to be a timid young adult. The fear and the dislike of the Goddess only grew to be stronger. He was ridiculed and shunned by the people in his village. One day, his father had enough and he dragged his son to the temple. He narrated the story of the Goddess to his son. He told him how Kaali was a destroyer of evil and her fearful form was to strike fear in the hearts of her enemies. “There was an evil demon in ancient times called Rakhtabheej. He had a boon that he will be resurrected for each drop of his blood which falls to the ground. He ravaged kingdoms for wealth, killed virtuous people and committed many atrocities as he became invincible with his boon. Mother took the form of Kaali to destroy him. She fought and slew him but his blood touched the ground giving rise to an army of demons. Maa Kaali then killed each of them and drank their blood before it touched the ground. She, thus, became the destroyer of evil and protector of good”.

“My brother to my left, my brother to my right. Together we stand, together we fight” read a poster as I walked to the courtroom. It transported me back to the old days when this saying was our impetus chant. We were introduced as the brothers who were destined to defend our motherland and only death could send us back to her abode. In service, we were unaware when we bonded nor were we aware when we parted, but all that we knew was to defend each other until the end. When I look back, five years ago, the day I arrived at the Officers Training Academy I sat quietly at a bench waiting for my document verification. Although it had only been a few hours since my parents left, I was already feeling homesick. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and when I looked back, a guy with a lean figure smiled at me and asked me to make space for him. Little did I know that it wasn’t just the space on the bench but a large space in my life as well that Shyam would occupy. Since then, there wasn’t a day that passed by without talking to him. Cover Photo by Pankaj Tottada In the beginning, our family of thirty cadets fought as if there was no tomorrow. We competed in everything and held ranks of hate against each other. In time, with the cross country runs, the morning drills, the afternoon shooting practices, the evening basketball matches along with creative and unforgettable punishments, our trainers turned us into men and we turned from strangers to brothers.

Trigger Warning: Suicide Naina stood at the edge of the water tank and closed her eyes. Her thoughts took her back in time to when she was in school. In an old house, her aunt and cousin held young Naina before she was about to run away, not wanting to listen to them. As she looked at them with her eyes wide open, her eldest cousin said, “Your parents will always keep fighting because of your Zodiac sign! They are most unfortunate to have you.” Gawking at her, Naina’s aunt said in a sad voice, “My sister never had a peaceful life. Her husband made it even more complicated but this kid just made it worse. Look at her…” ​ Turning towards Naina, she cursed, “She is like a dirtbag breathing life. Even her fate is ugly.” They stared at her as Naina’s cousin suggested, “Let’s admit her in the boarding school that I’m working in mama. I will keep an eye on her and she can stay away from my uncle and aunt and that will offer them the little peace they are hoping for.” The mother looked at her daughter for a moment and nodded in agreement. There was silence and darkness for a moment until another memory popped up. Young Naina stood in a corridor, while a thin short woman stood beside her. Naina stared at her parents while they left the boarding school and the women beside Naina took her inside. The next memory started with a phone ring and young Naina ran towards the corridor hopefully. The attendee picked up the phone to say, “Hey Naina!” Feeling delighted that she finally got a phone call from her parents after many months, Naina rushed to the phone with a beaming smile before the attendee said, “Can you call Archana? Tell her parents had called.”

Trigger Warning: Sexual Assault “I have always wondered why plastic melts when you heat it… Mamma never tells me why, because she is always busy working and fighting with Papa. And why has Papa not come yet? He said he would buy me that pink choki today, without fail. He keeps asking me for the name of the choki when I have already told him so many times — the name is pink choki, Papa. But he still asks for the name. Why do Mamma and Papa only ask questions but never answer? Hmm! “Hey Ammu! what are you doing up this late, that too alone.” “Hi Topi Uncle, I am waiting for Papa. He said he would buy me pink choki today no matter what. But see, he hasn't come yet.” “It’s okay Ammu, go inside now. Aren’t you feeling cold?” “No Topi Uncle” “You will catch a cold, go inside. When your Papa arrives, he will meet you inside.” “No! Mamma will tell him I have fallen asleep and Papa will go back home.” “But your papa is stuck somewhere, he may not be able to make it today.”

In the darkest night, the master of the spirits drenched in blood & ash, draped in tiger skin beneath his torso, got down Nandi, the bull calf and marched towards his mother fulfilling his promise with the light cast by Chandra, the Moon God resting in his dreadlocks. Standing before the gigantic gateway, the destroyer turned towards his devoted Nandi to command him to wait for him. Observing the gateway guarded by the uncountable number of invisible Devas, Shiva, the master of death was almost about to strike his Trishula, the trident onto the floor but Vasuki, the king of snakes and his loyal companion around his neck hissed about the impending doom.  The destroyer and the incarnation of death just smiled before twirling his Trishula to play the damaru, a two-headed drum embedded onto the weapon before he leaned back and plunged his weapon into one of the black clouds creating a huge ball of exploding energy that revealed the Devas as the energy touched them. Leaving his Trishula, as the damaru continued playing, Shiva walked amongst the infinite number of Devas in their astral forms manifested out of the energy of Shakti as they paved the way before kneeling to the almighty. Turning towards Nandi, Shiva noticed that his companion was worried about him and just smiled.

Butterfly, an unwanted nickname… “Can I call you butterfly?” He looked at me for a mere second and laughed out loud “Who in the world gives such a nickname to a man?” he said. Maybe it’s true no one ever wants to call them an insect name. But he never knew that that animal is the one that would describe him more perfectly than anything in the world. Everyone notices its beauty

Her eyes Her eyes are horizontal raindrops Her eyes look at me like her heart pops Her eyes take me beyond the horizon