Euta laghu: (kam chhaina ke garne?) “Aren’t you afraid?” She asked. I did not utter a word but my eyes must have told the story with a three-worded question “afraid of what?” “You will go to hell.” Well, I was already in heaven with her a few times already. And to be on the point, I, no longer, cared to go there with her anymore. The excitement of trip was converting to a routine, the route was getting increasingly easier, and the partner was always the same, who loved to tell the stories where I was the lead, and sang the song where I was the hero. I had had enough. It was time for me to move on. Since then, (earlier) been to heaven many times with so many others, and later, been to hell too with quite a few. Now, it has been a while since I thought of visiting those high and low places I was so proficiently boast about. It has been three months since my daughter is pregnant, and the guy is yet to surface since she told him about how they were awarded for being so passionate lovers to each other. I just knew this a few days back. All I am thinking about these days is to whether destroy or worship the guy when and if he surfaces. I cannot take it anymore. What kind of father am I, if I cannot defend my own daughter? I took the plane without saying anything to anybody. When I reached the guy’s house, his mother had many more questions to ask. She was not done then, obviously. “You were not afraid then, are you now?” She roared. I gazed at tangent, and kept on doing so.