The beautiful sparrow :-
that flew away as a cuckoo
He is standing over the stairs of the gate of this general coach of the train, fastening his fist over both handrails, as those two steel bars and this few centimeter spreaded stair over which he had firmly mounteted himself as a rigid sculputure or something, were only things that kept him away from the final redemption, but he isn’t much concerned about him, he knows his time has not come untill now and he had bigger problems in his mind, the questions that made him wanderering for more than two years, taking every decision over the gut feelings, instinct, and intiutions instead of the logics and practical thinking, that led him to the never ending adventurous but full of sufferings, anguish and the agony but he regrets nothing as it supplied him enough thrill to supress his demons crawling over the mind, yeah he was the psychopath who craved thrill and killed him twice everyday so he could die peacefully in his death bed with peace and eternal satisfaction.
‘Please talk to me baby’, he gasped in desperation, he expected her to be there beneath those layers of the mysterious darkness , holding railing carefully by one hand while pulling out ‘five of hearts’ by his left hand, his errand boy, transcending the darkness with the intense gaze of those preplexed grieving eyes, outside, ignoring those troubling lights from various sources such as lamps, tubelights, roadlights, headlights from the vehicles and n more number of different types of illuminations crossing horizon of his eyesight.
There was nobody, out there, nothing even close to resembling to his niece, out there in the darkness, as she died last week. So was he mad or possesed or something? Or there was something that led him to do these stupidities?
It all began last summer when he got out of the Jail.