II

It was the calm waters that Lalita was looking at as Aseem broke the news to her. She had anticipated this, had even played a part in engineering its inevitability. But she listened, nevertheless, with a pang in her heart, clutching tightly at the stunted grass, trying hard to keep composed.

Aseem, sensing her fears, laid his arm comfortingly over her shoulders. Nearing her, he could feel the mild waft of her perfume. He looked at her profile, with a worried frown on his face, trying to understand the turmoil behind that almost inscrutable facade. Almost ten years of togetherness, harsh experiences, and he still felt terrified of her. Not that it showed. Deep down somewhere, like all men from broken families, he knew that she was his only hope. And it scared him to think that perhaps, she knew it, and he sometimes dreaded her leaving him for a man with better prospects.

Section I

Although the river flows through the city, and despite ithe city's deriving its own essence from its existence, hardly anyone ever gives it a second look. Without fanfare, with an understanding, mischievous twinkle in its eye, it flows on. Giving generously from its own bounty, and accepting filth, it channels down far from its home, across plains, through mountains, to meet oblivion -- the unbounded sea.

And yet each drop drawn from its seemingly boundless spring forges its own existence, pulsates in the beings that themselves give the city its heartbeat.