I was telling the Cinderella story to my three year old daughter .As I began to tell her the story, she looked at me and said ,” Dad, tell some other story. Mom told me this yesterday night. The only thing that is unsettling is that  her mother is in coma in the local hospital after she met  with an accident yesterday morning and our daughter  has  not been  informed about this yet !!

My son was holding me tight, tears rolled down his cheeks as he repeatedly  kissed my forehead. I wanted to hug him back, but as they say dead men don’t react!

”Dad, life is good, there’s no pressure from mom to excel in exams, no one asks these days why I started doing drugs  after joining college, no one to bother me with question about how I developed HIV. Life is good.” – I found this letter written by my son today  morning  below my pillowcase. Today is my son’s 1st  death anniversary .He committed suicide a year back.

I don’t enjoy eating dinner alone .So I ask my ex wife to visit me for dinner whenever she can .But she always makes me promise to see her off to her grave, post dinner!

It was a humid summer afternoon in Calcutta. Came back from work and had to climb all the stairs up to my 4th floor apartment as the lift was not working. I opened the  main door tired and fatigued,   wiped the tiny bit of sweat  accumulated on my forehead while entering the hall way.My throat was all thirsty ,so I reached out for the fridge  to take out a bottle of  water.A hand came out of the fridge to offer me the bottle of water as soon as I opened the fridge door.It was not my hand.