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The Smile that Killed me

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  I’m not someone who gets excited when I see a plane in the sky or feels a rush of hormones when I meet a beautiful girl. My life changed completely the day I met her for the first time. It felt as though my soul had left my body, gone for a cleansing, and then returned to me—lighter, calmer, more human. People often say that when you meet the right person, your entire life transforms. That’s exactly what happened when I encountered her—this little girl, all alone on the outskirts of Kashmir. She was just six years old. And I was holding a gun. Did I kill her parents? I’m not sure. God, I hope not. All I know is that she was a victim in a land occupied by Pakistan. I was supposed to either shoot her or walk away and let one of the soldiers I called my mates put a bullet through her head. But something within me changed that day. What emerged from that moment wasn’t the soldier I had been trained to be, but the man I used to be. What emerged was my humanity. She was barely six year...
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"Everything around here is so dark," I muttered as I stepped off the Mega Bus. It's strange when someone you haven't spoken to in ages calls you out of the blue and asks to visit, but it was even weirder when I agreed to see him. As a self-professed loner, I found solace in my own company. So, when a text from Rajesh, a long-lost friend from my college days, interrupted my solitary musings, it was a welcome surprise. His message, 'Can you come to Middlesbrough, mate? Something here might interest you,' piqued my curiosity, and I agreed to the unexpected visit. When I got no response from Rajesh after texting him, a sense of unease began to grow within me. Despite that feeling, I made up my mind to go see him. It seemed unusual for him to suddenly call me and ask me to come over, and when I tried to call him back, his phone was switched off. This heightened my fear that something might be wrong. Convincing my mother to allow me to return to a place filled with ...
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“When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I’ve got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly. She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn’t love her anymore. I just pitied her! With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years...
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