Amber had become a regular at The Jamie’s.

She sat in her usual spot, right beside the window, with her usual latte and chocolate cupcake. She had recently taken to writing. Every morning before the clock hit eight, Amber was at the café with her journal. She took the seat beside the window and kept looking at the passersby as she sipped her latte. What struck odd about Amber was that she always wore a white scarf around her neck. The scarf was pearly white in color just like her the colur of snow.  Anyone who would have seen Amber, would know that she was sad, that she longed for someone.

The waiters did try to cheer her up by writing her little notes and sketching some cartoon characters on them. She would smile when she read them but the smile was wiped off when she looked at her white scarf.

On one Sunday, as Amber entered the café, to her dismay she found that someone had taken her seat. She quickly, without wasting a second went up to the girl to ask her to take another seat. As she approached the girl, she heard whimpering and sobbing. Amber backed up a little. She felt hesitant to ask the girl why she was crying, thinking that it was too much work and she’d rather sit somewhere else to write her journal. As Amber was about to leave, the girl tucked at her dress, whispering,” Please, please…. Can you talk to me for a while?” Without saying much, Amber quietly sat down. The girl slowly lifted up her face to meet Amber’s eyes. With just one look, Amber knew what was wrong. She gently pressed on the girls hand and said that he wasn’t worth it. It is alright. The girl was taken aback. She had a perplexed look on her face. Her tears dried up and she sat upright and asked Amber how did she know that she was dumped without her even saying a word to Amber.

There was a sudden change in the atmosphere, instead of heartbreak and sadness there was curiosity occupying the space between the two girls.

Amber was now looking at the window as she began to narrate the story to the girl. She said,” Before you, he was with me. We dated for two years, we were happy together until things started to change; he started to change. There were lot of fights and crying involved. I was made to feel like trash, like I was the reason for all this, like I was the problem. I did believe that I had become the problem. I was dumped on Christmas Eve. The time when people all around the world wish each other ‘Happy New Year’, I was asked to get lost.  He said that he couldn’t handle things anymore that I was irritating and it was just too much for him. Things got so out of hand that I had forgotten who I was. I have cried on countless nights and begged for him to come back saying that it will better next time. None of that happened. I was lost, directionless, and helpless. I started coming to this café, this seat where you are sitting right now is where it had all happened. Just recently, I saw him go out with you. I watched you two share ice cream together, click pictures, have fun.” All this while Amber clutched on to her scarf as she spoke.

“He dumped me today saying that I was not good enough for him, that I was irritating and too much work.” , said the girl , as she began to sob uncontrollably.

Amber saw herself in that girl. She too, was like this about a year ago. The two girls bonded really fast and talked for hours about relationships, cats, food and how unicorns did exist just like the mermaids.

The sun had set, the mood shifted from gloomy to gleeful. The girls giggled and laughed as they stared at the empty latte cups.

Amber looked up to her and held her hand and said,” he is not worth it. Trust me. You’ll be fine, just give it some time.”

As she said this, she look off the white scarf, place it on the table, gave one last look to the girl, smiled at her and left.










I wonder what he might be doing right now.

Is he staring in the mirror, checking out himself or is he playing with his hair?
Is he thinking of me, like I am right now?
Is he also looking at the moon, and staring at twinkling stars while I think of him?
Umm.. no, I guess he might be with his friends or he might be working.
I wonder if he knows how often I think of him, how I’ve made him my secret obsession.
He once asked me what love is. I said, it’s something you can’t define and love makes you do things for others to make them happy. Back then this was the only understanding of this word I had.

Now, as the time has passed, I can better define love.

Love is… It’s him.

Love is what I feel when his lips purse into a cheeky smile.

Love is what I feel when he brags about his hair, all the time, how he loves them, how the hairdresser loves his locks and how all the people keep mentioning how gorgeous his locks are.

Love is what I feel when he holds his head high while he speaks of the girls that hit on him and how he almost never gives into the temptations.. how the seductresses are all around him, but he has the mighty power to hold himself back and not fall prey to those perfectly toned calves and gluttons, those beautiful looking, faces with sharp and pointy noses and those, with hair of the colour, the bright red blame has. He lovingly calls him, his ‘Ginger-heads’ which almost always cracks me up.

Love is what I feel when, he tries to make me laugh during a serious talk and how it mostly backfires at him. How, he quietly takes the blame for it, making that cute puppy face while he says, ” Hey, it was getting dark so I thought I’d cheer you up a little.. I’m sorry.”
(That puppy face and sweet voice, it’s a combination of cuteness, also my weakness. I always give into it.)

Love is what I feel when he stops for a moment and just stares at me.. There’s just silence that speaks for what he feels.
He famously calls it the “Awkward Silence”.
Does he know that I appreciate them a lot?

Love is what I feel when he gifts me something and then waits for days to see me in it, like a kid who eagerly waits for his Christmas presents. Oh, how his eyes light up and lips shape into a big smile as he watches me twirl in the dress.

Love is what I feel when after a long wait, I get to listen to his voice through the cell phone. What a blissful sound it is! Relaxing and reassuring..

Love is what I feel when he understands the subtle things.. when he gets me and puts me first.

Love is his warmth which I carefully keep locked up, safely in my heart. His warmth , that helps me shut my eyes on dark, cold days.

This is what love is for me, It’s him.

As the years pass, will my love for him fade away, or will it stay the same? I think, it will just grow deeper and deeper..

Will we end up together? I don’t know.
I guess some answers are best left to this universe and it’s workings.

All I want to say is that I have finally found my forever in him..


 Those warm hugs that comforted me when I cried over your shoulder.

Those cheerful eyes that radiated happiness to all who peeped into them.

That cheesy , dorky smile that assured me that everything is gonna be alright now that you’re  there with me.

That scent, so strong that it made my head swoon.

Those fingers that fit perfectly with mine.

That feeling of belongingness when I stood right beside you.

Just everything about you…….


“Michelle, darling please  get rid of that white shirt. It’s been months already baby.”

“Yes, mother.” , I  said as I held his white shirt in my hands, feeling its softness against my cheeks, sniffing it’s scent for the last time, finally tossing it into the recycle bin.


I let go of him today but his memories, I still cherish them.





“So Cinderella finally met her ‘Prince Charming’ and they lived happily ever after.”

“That’s it mommy?”

“Yes,  sweetie. Now go to bed. Mommy has work to do. Good night sweetheart. Sleep tight.”

Samantha gently kissed her daughter’s forehead, tucked her in, turned off the lights and tiptoed out of the room with the story book in her hand.

“Oh no, no, no, no…. Not again! Crap!” , she exclaimed as she looked at her watch. She darted into the bathroom midway picking up her red heels.  As she began to fix her soft brown locks, she began thinking of which look she wanted to go for today. But firstly it was important to conceal all the bruises and the hickeys. She carefully dabbed some liquid on her face and arms to conceal the purple spots and the blue-black ones. “A girl’s body shouldn’t have any scares”, she softly spoke to herself.

As Samantha began to transform into Cinnamon, she stared at the picture of a couple she had put up on her bathroom mirror; a cut out from the Elle magazine, and thought to herself that maybe someday she could too have a handsome guy right beside her to make her happy. “ Maybe I am just another Cinderella waiting for her prince charming. Just one more day in this hell…. “, she said to herself as she did her eyes. Her phone buzzed. It was Cindy from work.

Samantha  smeared the darkest tint of red on her lips finishing up her makeup,  stole a  quick glance of herself in the mirror; Cinnamon was ready.

She checked on her daughter, looked around the house, took the keys and left.

After an hour or so, she reached her work place where she met Cindy. They exchanged their usual ‘hellos’ and complimented each other on how great they looked tonight as they stood in the freezing, dark, alleys hollering at men who came; hoping that out of all the guys they sleep with today, maybe one will be their Prince Charming.  






Just like every other day, Brittany was on her way to the cliff, her usual spot since a month. It was a ten minute hike from the outskirts of the town. Britt enjoyed the hike, the cool breeze but her favourite was the sound of the ocean. She studied the waves very carefully as she sat there talking to her grandmother. The ocean reflected her mood. At times it was aggressive, at times calm, and just blissful to look at. Britt had recently lost her grandmother. “The pain will go away after some time. It will be fine.” Those words resonated in her head everyday as she passed by the houses of the neighbors. But Britt knew that the pain wasn’t getting any less as each day passed by. Every morning was a struggle to live; it was almost difficult for her to get out of the bed to reach for a glass of water. Britt’s grandmother always took her to the cliff, as the sun began to set and they talked about how life was or how James, Britt’s classmate always bullied her.
Recently even James had become awfully quiet. It was probably because of how sad Brittany looked all the time. He said that it wasn’t any fun pestering her because she wouldn’t react to anything that he did.
It was a beautiful and chilly autumn evening. Britt left her house to go to the cliff. As she was climbing , she heard someone crying, she quickly reached the top and to her shock, it was James. He sat there with his knees to his chest ,his eyes all red and puffy, crying as loud as he could. Britt slowly went upto him and asked him what was wrong. To her surprise, James pulled her in a hug, his embrace so tight that Britt thought she was sure to break a bone or two. There they sat, in the evening sun, talking to each other, pouring their hearts out to each other. James’s parents were going to take a divorce and it seemed that it was too much for him to handle. They talked for hours until finally it was too dark and both started for home, holding hands and secretly thankful to each other. Britt knew that day that she wasn’t alone. James squeezed her hand, reassuring her that he will always be by her side. All feel pain; few come forward to talk about it.
That day, two suicides were prevented. At times talking is a good solution.


“Today will be different.” , Jake said to himself as he stood  in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection.

Jake was all okay, happy and a bright young boy until the tenth grade. After that something just wasn’t right. His behavior changed. Jake wasn’t all smiles anymore. He used to lock himself up in his room for days together. Food wasn’t his first love anymore, especially after being diagnosed with an eating disorder. Diana couldn’t understand what was going wrong  with her son. She took him for short weekend trips to cheer him up, tried to confront him about his problems, she also made Jake join a self-help group thinking that maybe he’d be able to open up and address his problems with people his own age. But nothing worked. All of Diana’s attempts were fruitless. Until one night when it all came to light. She now knew what was troubling her son so much.

“No! I am not going to hide anymore. I won’t take this anymore. I am what I am and I won’t change even an inch of it. Let them make fun of me as much as they want. Today I will go up to Shane and tell him to stop what he has been doing. He can’t do this to me. It’s enough now. Today I must speak up or else I might do ‘it’ again.” , Jake said to himself as he got ready for school.

Jake had a  brief  history of clinical depression. He had cut himself many times. His trips to the hospital for the failed suicide attempts had been too much for Diana. That day she made him sit in front of her and asked him to tell her what was going on. Jake told her how he was being bullied at school.  A group of boys abused him at school. They also created several memes and videos about him and got them to go viral on various social media sites. And all of this just because he was different. Because he conducted himself differently than others.

” Mummy does so much for me. She’s also been through a lot. She has helped me change two schools and we have already moved twice since Papa died. I can’t burden her  like this anymore. I must be strong. I can do this. I can. Today will be different.”, Jake spoke with a voice filled with courage and strength but his eyes spoke of a different emotion altogether. He fell to the floor with tears flooding his eyes. He couldn’t stop the memories of his father from rushing into his brain. He missed him a lot. It had just been six months since he had lost his father to a tragic accident.

“Jake, honey, are you ready? You’ll be late. Jake? Are you even listening to me? Jake? Common, hurry up already.”, Diana said as she climbed up the stairs to Jake’s room hastily. When she saw Jake on the floor, she couldn’t help crying. She ran to embrace him in her arms.

“Jake, I know how difficult it has been for you. You’ve gone through a lot. But don’t worry. I have all the paperwork done. Today will be your last day at this school. Tomorrow we’ll be moving out of this town. I am sure that you’ll like the new place. I have taken care of everything. We will begin with the medical procedures and the surgery as soon as you feel ready. Honey, please don’t cry. I can’t see you like this. I want you to know that you are not alone in this. I am there for you. I don’t care what the world says. I want you to know that your Mummy is here for you and that we’ll fight all of this together. I love you Jake. I love you so much.” , having said that Diana hugged him even tighter than before.

Jake faced his mother and wiping her tears began speaking to her politely while looking into her eyes, “Mummy, it’s not Jake, remember? We talked about this that night. It’s Jennifer. I’m Jennifer, Ma. Jennifer.”

“Oh, yes. Jennifer. I’m sorry. Jennifer, I love you.”


If we all learn to accept people for who they are then I believe that for each of those people, there will be a ‘today’ that will be different. Transgender, homosexual or bisexual, they’re still humans. Humans who deserve love, respect and most of all, acceptance.

#lgbt #love



                                                                                                                              – P.C.CAST




                           “I love you, I always will. You’ll always be my forever.”

Aashu is my definition of true love. You know how they talk about love at first sight, well, I fell  for Aashu the day I first saw  him. At the tender age of seventeen, I came to realize and believe that true love exists and it isn’t some romance novel cliché described by hopeless romantics. With Aashu things were always simple. It was as if the word ‘complicated’ wasn’t a part of his life. You’ll ask me what I loved the most about him, well, I loved everything about him. His ‘ not a single fuck given’ attitude, his stupidity, how his lips curved up in a smile when he saw me; I loved all of him. But I was too scared to tell him that. What if our friendship, this special bond that we had, got shattered? What if he decided to not to talk to me ever again? No, I couldn’t risk our friendship over my silly feelings. And I never told him how I felt for him.

After high school ended, we were at the crossroads in our lives. He decided to go to America and I stayed back in India. Time flew soon. It was the 2nd of October, I was anxiously  waiting at the airport for him. I had tried to look my best that day. I looked quite different from my high school days. Now I didn’t have short boyish hair. Instead I had long brown hair that framed my face, petite body and a Brazilian model like complexion. I almost yelled “Aashu” out of excitement and nervousness both but what I saw next broke my heart into a million pieces. A girl was walking with him, clutching him tightly, as if she was sending the message of “He’s mine” to all the other girls that were staring at him. Every two to three seconds she looked at her ring finger with sparkly eyes and planted a kiss on his cheeks. What could’ve I done? We exchange pleasantries and promised to see each other again as an excuse to get to know all that was going on in our lives.

One night, Aashu called me up and before I could even ask him what had happened, he began sobbing uncontrollably over the phone, I panicked. Just within a few minutes I came to know that she had left him for some millionaire of the West. That day we talked for two long hours and in the end he did feel a bit better. I had this strong urge overpowering me, I wanted to scream my lungs out and tell him that, “Aashu, I love you! Please be mine forever!” but I just couldn’t tell him. Life went on. Aashu remarried. He did called me up to invite me for his wedding reception but I denied giving an excuse. How could I possibly go to his wedding reception? I couldn’t muster up the courage to watch the guy I love get married to someone else, again. That was the last time I heard from him. I had almost forgotten about Aashu until this morning when a strange  looking letter arrived at my place.

With trembling fingers and teary eyed, Aashima opened the letter and began reading it.

” Dear Aashima,

God dammit!!! I love you!! I don’t know how should I say this to you. I am just too scared to lose you as a friend. I had fallen for you the day I first saw you but didn’t have the courage to say it. But I really , really love you Aashima!! I love you, I always will. You’ll always be my forever Aashima.

Love, Aashu”

With this a seventy -eight year old widow, Aashima began weeping hysterically. Couldn’t speak a word more at the eulogy of the only guy she had loved the most in her life. Everyone at the church was overwhelmed with emotions and broke into tears.

In the end, I guess we all regret the chances that we never took.


It was Valentine’s Day. I was sitting on my bed when she came in
my room and gently placed a rose in my hands, wishing me a very happy Valenyine’s Day. I couldn’t help but feel bashful. I just hoped that she hadn’t seen me blush. The aroma of that rose filled my room d309bd29b127436d7daea14d477b1eb2almost immediately. I felt as if it was the most scented flower in this world. With its scent so strong and powerful, I could hardly smell anything else in the room. The silkiness of the petals wouldn’t let my fingers stay on them. While I was busy with my rose, she began to narrate a story about the Valentine’s Day. She talked about how rose is the most beautiful flower in the world and that it is a symbol of love.I couldn’t help but wonder how strange the world was. How can just one flower be the most beautiful in this world? Why is rose the symbol of love? Out of all the flowers in this world, how can humans see beauty in just one of them? Are they that stupid!
It’s strange how easliy we have objectified beauty in our world. Quite often the people who come to visit me, ask me about her. Well, almost ninety percent of the time I am at a loss of words to describe her.

For me, she is my rose. A symbol of love and a person who radiates beauty. Whenever she is with me, everything around me turns beautiful, just like magic. I can sense the baeuty in the smell of fresh air, sound of the swaying trees, chirping of the birds and the melody of her voice even when she scolds me. Her touch feels like sunshine on a gloomy rainy day and warmth in the winters. Everything about her is beautiful.

If only I could see the colour of her eyes and the glow on her face when she smiles. All I see is darkness everyhwere but in HER, I find my LIGHT.