1 Tried to stand beside a shooting star

Little whispers of birds filled the balcony as I prepared for the day ahead. After breakfast, I made my way to school, oblivious to what awaited me.

That day marked the farewell ceremony, where we would bid goodbye to our school days and embark on our paths. Despite the festive atmosphere, I felt a sense of unease and tension regarding a matter that had kept me awake the previous night.

"Why? Haven't I made better decisions for you? Why do you always have to go against my choices?" My father's voice boomed through the house, yet it was a familiar occurrence. Arguments between my parents had become my father's recurring pastime. They had married 17 years ago, not out of obligation but because they claimed to love each other. Does love truly fade away with time?

Glancing at the wall clock, I realized I was running late. "God, I can't afford to be late for the farewell ceremony today." I grabbed my bag and hurried out.

As I sat on an empty bench near the ever-blooming fountain in the park, thoughts of him invaded my mind. "No, stop thinking about him. I indeed had feelings for him, but he never cared. And the worst part is that it was all a ploy to extort money from me." The more I dwelled on it, the more ashamed and disgusted I felt about my actions that day.

"Oh, Nire, I'm so sorry." My true friend, Divya, approached me. She had curly black hair and a slim face, her smile somewhat obscured by braces. Sitting beside me, she said, "I've warned you countless times that he's a jerk, but you never listened."

"I was blind. I couldn't see his flaws. I was deaf. I couldn't hear your voice," I admitted.

Earlier that morning, after the farewell program ended, I asked Anshu to accompany me to the school rooftop, unaware that others were following us. Anshu, living up to his name, excelled in academics, athletics, and looks.

"I've liked you from the moment I realized I was different," I confessed, avoiding eye contact, fearful that he would start hating me.

"What are you--" He abruptly grabbed my arms and pulled me closer. As I leaned in to kiss him, he suddenly pushed me away, causing me to stumble and fall.

"Finally, I have a secret about you," he taunted, waving his smart-phone. "I'm eager to see how your religious parents react when they discover their only child is gay."

"Please, don't do this," I pleaded.

"Why not?" He advanced closer, bending down to lift my chin. "Bring me 50,000 rupees by tomorrow, or else you know what I'll do," he threatened, before leaving me broken and frightened on the floor. Helpless and shattered, I turned to Divya.

"I don't have that kind of money," I uttered, standing up from the bench. "I should ask him for more time."

"Nire, he's blackmailing you. Don't become his victim," Divya warned.

"What else can I do? The school administration is against same-sex love. Do you think they'll support me?" I argued.

"Just tell your parents," Divya rose from her seat, exuding confidence. "It's better for them to hear it from their son than from others."

"You don't understand. You haven't witnessed their anger. They might even kill me," I lamented.

"You've lived your life with them. What harm could they do? Perhaps a slap or some harsh words, but eventually, they will accept you. Nire, this is your chance to be true to yourself."

She was right, after all, they are my parents. I said goodbye to her and made my way to my home. I feared that they get furious and shoot me in my head then again guns are illegal here. I thought to myself. 

I, Nire Roy, have brought shame upon my family. I didn't know the consequences of my actions would be like this. I reached for the door handle, but...

The door creaked open from the inside, revealing Anshu stepping out, wearing a wicked grin on his face. I couldn't comprehend why he was here. A surge of fear coursed through me as I cautiously entered my house. My dad and mum stood before me, their gazes filled with unmistakable disgust. Their piercing eyes seemed to penetrate deep into my soul, intensifying my apprehension and shame. 

"Get out of my house!" my father shouted the moment he spotted me entering, and he threw a vase in my direction. I quickly turned and saved myself.

"Get out of my house..."

I took a deep breath, gathering the strength to respond through the tears welling in my eyes. "Even a criminal is given a chance to prove his innocence. Won't you give me a chance, Papa?" My voice quivered with a mixture of desperation and vulnerability, seeking an ounce of understanding.

My father's eyes hardened, and he turned his gaze away from me, refusing to meet my pleading look. "You have brought shame upon us," he said, his voice laced with disappointment. "Nire, the path you have chosen is full of obstacles, and neither of us is going to support you."

A surge of courage surged within me, despite the heaviness in my heart. "Is it a sin to be gay?" I asked, my voice breaking slightly.

Silence hung in the air, the weight of my question echoing between us, begging for an honest answer that could bridge the growing chasm.

"No, it is a crime, and I don't accept criminals in my house."

My heart shattered into pieces; my father didn't accept me. Fuck you, Anshu! You ruined my life. I composed myself, wiped my tears, and tried to walk up to my room, but...

"No need to go any further," I was stopped on the stairs by my mum.

"For God's sake, leave this house," she said as she handed me a bag. "I can't believe I gave birth to someone like you."

I was speechless. It felt like the floor beneath me was trying to swallow me. My soul had left my body. I took my bag and walked. My mum called me someone like me; it stunned me.

I walked on. How much I loved them didn't matter that night. I guess my identity was the reason I was going to sleep in the Radhakrishna temple.

"I have no one, God. My mom and dad turned their faces away from me. The person I loved, they just discarded me like I meant nothing. You always say there's a reason behind every action. So tell me, what is today's reason?" My words trembled with a mix of anguish and frustration. The weight of a broken heart and the burden of being a victim seemed to justify my appeal to a higher power. "Why do I find myself attracted to guys? Why couldn't I be normal, like everyone else? You made me like this and no one is accepting me in your world"

"Then accept yourself," someone spoke to me. I turned to the source of the sound and saw an old woman. The old lady, her silver hair cascading in gentle waves, slowly shuffled down the narrow street. Each step was accompanied by the creaking of her worn-out shoes, a rhythmic echo of the years she had gracefully carried. Her face, weathered by time and marked with lines of wisdom, held a certain serenity that only age could bestow.

As she made her way, a delicate hand reached out, lightly tracing the texture of the ancient stone walls lining the path. Faded paint peered through the cracks, telling stories of long-forgotten memories, while patches of ivy embraced the surface, adding a touch of nature's beauty to the worn facades.

"Accept yourself, dear," she said as her hand touched my face like a caring mother does. "Today you might see that God has left you no choice but to keep faith in Him. You never see an elephant die due to hunger; He has given them tremendous memory. Likewise, find the gift that God has given you. Everyone will envy you if you become someone." Her words somehow made me aware that this was not the end. She hurriedly pulled out a locket and placed it in my hand, saying, "Keep it."

"No, I can't. It's yours," I protested, my voice trembling with uncertainty.

The old woman's eyes softened as she held my gaze. "It's not mine, and I am not giving it to you. You have to give it to someone who will need it in the future. Till then, wear it until your days are good," she insisted, her voice carrying a gentle determination.

I hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the locket in my hand. It held a sense of significance, an unknown story woven within its delicate design. With a mixture of gratitude and curiosity, I carefully clasped it around my neck, letting it rest against my chest.

Attempting to find the right words, I fumbled in my bag, searching for something to offer in exchange. "Thank you," I managed to utter, but as I looked up, ready to express my heartfelt appreciation, the old woman had vanished as if she were a fleeting apparition.

Confused yet touched by her presence, I stood there for a moment, the locket now a tangible reminder of our encounter. I marveled at the mysteries life had just unveiled before me, knowing that somehow, someday, the purpose of this gift would become clear.

"Nire," a familiar voice called out from behind. I turned around, and my eyes locked with Sankalpa's. I took a deep breath, finding solace in his presence. "I heard about you from Divya, so I went to your house, but..."

"My parents chased you away, didn't they?" I interrupted, a mix of pain and resignation in my voice.

Sankalpa's expression softened, his eyes filled with empathy. "Come stay with us," he insisted, his voice filled with genuine concern and support.