He is a child yet to be born. Perhaps he preferred to remain unborn. In a world where people worry about death, why does he ensconce himself to a corner where he shall see a darkness that is beyond death? Or is it the sky he does not want to see? He is 29 and yet he remains unborn.

And I see her, with her infectious smile. Her heart is filled with unsung songs and suppressed pain, but a smile is almost always etched on her lips. She is there for him, to save him from the darkness where he wants to hide.

For two years, Aayana has been living with him. In his lonely house away from the world where the sun does not shine, deep down inside the valley far from the town. In these two years, he has not stepped outside the door and has not spoken to anybody except her, very few words with her too. He had stabbed a man. The man lived to tell the tale. But our boy, here, he could never come to terms with what he had done. Walls. He had surrounded himself with walls.

Aayana found him a week after the incident, lifeless yet calm, starving yet satisfied. Aayana decided to be with him. No matter his continuous insistence, she does not agree to leave him there. He never asks why and she never says it. My little girl Aayana, with a pure soul without any desire, wants nothing in return. Loving makes people stronger and she loves so fiercely that she might be the strongest.

***

"I have forgotten the past because beside me is a beautiful present and I have not thought of the future because my present is so precious. Every day, when I go to work my heart weighs so heavy; to step outside the house, away from him. Each day I look behind with a hope that he is watching me walking and he will wave at me with a smile. But I know he never will but still I look behind. Sometimes at work I imagine him not being home when I return. The mere thought plunges through my head like a knife, leaving me restless, unable to think. And every time I see him when I am home my heart fills with all the pleasure in the world. Once the day is over and it's time to go back home, I feel like running as fast as I can, like a child running to her mother’s lap.

He will be in the same position as I had left him, in his study table reading his book. I will smile at him. On days I bring him a new book, he tries to say something but only gives me a half smile. I have always been weak in making conversation with anyone and with him it is harder. Sometimes I try to talk, tell him about my day. He listens to me, whatever I say, with interest. I feel nervous talking to him. When I stutter because of the nervousness, he smiles sometimes. He usually remains silent and that silence makes his presence sweeter. This tiny house, away from the world, is bigger than the world because it is where my heart is happy.

Sometimes in his sleep he calls out my name and whispers a sentence, the same sentence every time:

"Aayana please, don't take me outside; don't take me to the light. The light with the darkness is even darker than darkness itself."

He struggles in his sleep when he says these words. It worries me. He never speaks about what’s bothering him. I just try to assure him that I will never make him go outside. I want to hug him to assure him that I will always protect and take care of him. But he does not let me. He doesn’t like these things.

***

It was a beautiful spring day. The day’s sunlight was fading away and a cool breeze was blowing. I had had a tiring day, but the evening was beautiful. When I got home, there he was at the door waiting for me, with a light in his eyes. It was the first time I saw him waiting for me.

The same day, as evening settled, he came to my room. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, tried to speak but could not.

"Please speak. What is it?"

He turned towards me and then turned around. He sat down on the chair and bowed his head down. After some silence, he spoke.

"Will you take me to the bank of the river? I want to see the sky."

"Okay. We'll go tomorrow morning. Will it be fine?"

"Now?"

"Okay."

We walked along the narrow path under the moonlight. He seemed frightened. I held his hand, and for the first time he did not seem concerned but my whole body was trembling. My heart was pounding. Every sound I heard felt like music; the cricket chirping, swirling of the breeze, rippling flow of the river, everything. We sat beside the river, staring at the moon and the stars and the flowing river. I wrapped my shawl around me and him, covered with warmth and love. We sat there until the stars started to fade away. I rested my head on his shoulders, wishing time would freeze.”