This is post is originally from “Nadip’s Blog”. This short story reflects the different trials and pains the people of this world suffer. It is a great and beautiful read.

Nabadip's Blog

It was past midnight.
The streets of Calcutta bore a deserted look. In a corner of Central Avenue a child cried alone in a basket originally meant for fruits. A car passing by screeched to halt on spotting the basket.Ayon and Rhea were returning from another of those meaningless parties they went to in an attempt to mask their sadness. Their first child was stillborn. A year later they still could not bring themselves to try again. The room they had decorated for the happiness of their lives lay uncared for in their home. How happy they had been in those nine months-planning,debating on names,even fighting over the school the child should go to.They had settled for Rahul if it was a boy and Raina if it was a girl.They never got around to deciding the school…
Not many lights were on in the houses nearby.They looked at each other…

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