Published in StoryStar 2014 A man is a very sophisticated creature of God. So was Ruhul Quds, a farmer in Tehran. His cogitations are like fire. A fire which is constantly burning in the cold frame of the mind. The worms who earlier used to play with the wires of the mind have now become ashes. He was always there watching me, lambasting my every move. He used to say, life is tough and it is too tough when your moves are ludicrous. To me I find him as a naked mortal. I considered him as a soul who has hurled away everything in the pursuit of pure love. A trice of affection that is all he needs. Sometimes it makes me to reckon as though I am his broken heart, or the vengeance that he never got the chance to take, or as always it is my own pipe dream. That night asphyxiated in the darkness o