Four songs.

He wakes up to the music playing in his room. He lies on his back and stares blankly at the ceiling. Then again at the decrepit music system he refuses to throw out. It was a gift, and for him it was a machine of memories. The actual owner was a lady, a music lover herself. The majority kind, the ones that love to listen but can't sing even in their dreams. Maybe that is why she loved Mark. A singer that lived in black and white until he met her. When Mark died, she stopped listening to music. She decided to give away the music player altogether, an action that made one think that she didn't want any remnants of his existence. But then again she gave it to him, her nextdoor neighbour. One can't help but think that everytime he plays his music, she dances in her hallway with Mark's soul.

*You make me feel like, I've been locked out of heaven, for too long.* (Locked out of heaven- Bruno Mars)

He looks over to the naked woman sleeping next to him. He doesn't remember anything about yesterday. He was naked too. He sighs. If only he could find something meaningful in this life. He wonders whether if he changes the music to a more romantic one, things might hit a little different. His thoughts were disrupted by the rustling of sheets. She was awake and he was pretending to be asleep. She tip-toed around the room, wore her clothes and then he heard the scribbling of pen. He didn't let his curiosity get the better of him. The door slammed shut. He opened his eyes and walked over to the note she had left.

"Thanks for the night."

(Music drowns his room again) 

*You make me testify, uh!

And right there is where I wanna stay, uh!

'Cause your sex takes me to paradise

Yeah your sex ---* 

He turns off the music and gets dressed. On his way to work, he wished that all the words that were jammed into these songs were true. He played the same song again. It all seem crowded in his head. He was desperate for the story, to know whether humans felt like this. He didn't anyway.

........

He opens his door in a tired demeanor, waves a quick 'hi' to the owner, enters his room, throws away his bag, switches on the music system which crackles a little at first but then works fine like it was berating him for leaving it off for too long, he smiled a little at this thought. He was happy he reunited Mark's soul and his owner's. The music filled the room.

*Cherathukal thorum ninn theeyormayayi* (Cherathukal- Sithara)

He lies down on his bed, then turns to his side, crumbling up into a human ball. Within the next few lines of the song, he was crying like a child that was lost in a park. The song helped him sleep. Every whisper of wind, rustling of leaves, and shuffling of feet he felt outside made him feel like he was home. Finally, he was home. He had fathomed a special kind of hate for songs that promised the feeling of a mellowness. Here, he was breaking and the words were promising him that it would drain him of his bad memories. And it did. Maybe this was better. Repetitive words, tender words, sincere words, lack of physical attachment. He fell asleep while the song played on into all the corners of his doubtful heart.

*Njan varam ninn aakashamayi*

A message pops up on his screen from his doctor. "Please come by tomorrow. The results are out."

___________________________________________

"You should be happy ! It's negative. You are not sick.", The doctor patted him on his shoulder with a wide smile. He smiles with effort. "Thank you doctor.", He said.

He walked out of the door with a grim face. He really wished it had been positive. He wished god had made results positive and negative based on the person's will to live. And he surely didn't want to spend another day in this world. He sits down on a bench in the beautiful green lawn around the hospital. He was a unique man. He had planned his whole life around death. A person to grow old with before he dies but he felt he was betrayed when he saw her small body floating up in the river when he was just 15. A job before he dies. A place to cry before he dies. A day when he could experience how it would feel like to not be orphan before he dies. He stares into the surrounding with blank eyes, crushing the result with his hands, releasing his anger at his fate. He pulls out his phone and earphones, turns on the music. And suddenly everything talked with music, the couple arguing near the entrance, the flock of birds on the tree, the children playing in the park with their robes, and even the footsteps of a cheeky child walking upto him.

"Can I listen too?", the boy exclaims enthusiastically. 

He is surprised, aware of the fact that he was actually being talked to. He removes his earphones and asks "What? How can I help you?".

"Me me. I want to listen.",the boy said.

He looks clearly confused of the boy's request. He was suddenly conscious about his playlist and starts checking through his phone for a decent song.

"Henry, come inside! Don't disturb other people.", a bald woman in robe shouts from a distance, coughing a little after. 

"Yes mom.", The boy shouts back. "Sorry, I have to go back. But next time, okay? Promise me.", the boy said holding out his hand. 

Ram looks back and forth a bit confused. "Promise.",he said after finally finding his voice and places his hand on top of the boy's.

The boy rushes to the bald woman jumping cheerfully. 

Bald. Bald heads. He despised it. They used to say that his mother died of cancer with a bald head. He doesn't remember them both. But stories about his mother found him through the walls of his orphanage. And in its entirety, that was all it was, stories. He left them tucked inside the cracks on the wall, not even asking for a photograph. He was a unique guy, they used to say. A guy they didn't know anything about. A guy who refused to give a face and name to a person he didn't know. He used to think to himself as to why he was so cruel to people who didn't get a chance to love him. Chance, he hated that word. And that was all mom and dad was to him. Chances to love.

He walks to the bus stand and notes down in his mind. Play Shaayad by Taba Chake for the boy.

___________________________

He reaches home and notices that the door of his neighbour's closed. He puts the key in and opens his door. He had placed himself in a chair, laid his head back with his eyes closed. He was startled from his plunge into the passivity of his life by the knock on the door. Hesitant knocks. He opens the door and finds the owner fidgeting with her keys.

After letting her in and making her comfortable in the balcony with a cup of coffee, he himself occupies a chair next to hers. As they take slow sips from the coffee, Ram could feel the owner gathering up the courage to ask him something. 

"Do you want the music system back? It's okay. You can ask. I don't mind.",he said to break the silence.

"Oh no dear. It's just I wanted to ask you for something. Can you play 'can't help falling in love' for me now?", She asked, rushing to take another sip to avoid the embarassment she'd face if he rejected the favour she had put forward.

"Oh. Of course. Wait a minute.", He said and went to the room, brings out the music system to the balcony and played the song.

*Wise men say only fools rush in..* (Can't help falling in love - Elvis Presley)

"Wise men are the real fools.", She exclaimes. Ram couldn't help notice the new spirit that had replaced the old Belle the moment the music rised to the rims of her coffee cup.

"Fools maybe, but their hearts aren't broken.", Ram mutters.

Belle looks at Ram with such jolt, maybe it was just because of the length of the sentence he spurted out or it could actually be because of the meaning. Ram tries to defend himself when he notices the shift in the air.

"I didn't mean---", he started.

"Oh dear, you are right. I miss that man to my very bones. And not a day goes by when I don't consider being with him again. But silly me, how can I think of such a horrific thought? He lives here, in my very broken heart. And there he'll live, soothing all my pain and sufferings.", She said. Ram smiled. 

He could suddenly feel a tug at his heart, he takes another sip of coffee, the tug is still there. He remembers her smile, her giggles, her tug at the sleeve of his shirt he could never fold up whenever they went to do something naughty. She was an orphan too but she was his everything. If only he had went with her to the river, he wouldn't be sitting here with the sleeves all folded up. To tell her that she never had to tug at his sleeves, to promise her that she would never have to ask him twice, that he will always be there by her side. He was ready to gladly mistake the tug at his heart for her small hands pulling at his sleeves. Maybe he desparately wanted to feel her presence after all.

*Take my hand, take my whole life too.*

He places the cup on the table and rolls out his sleeves.

______________________________

Days and months passed before Ram finally decides to meet the boy again. He carefully picks out his jeans and a t-shirt. A thought that the boy would have forgotten him by now is gnawing at the back of his mind, but he was a unique man that cared about promises. 

He reaches the hospital and sits on the same bench from that day. How foolish of him to think that the boy would come rushing out after seeing him through a window, but nevertheless he thought like that for twenty minutes or so. A doctor passes by and asks him if he needs anything, he explains that he is just visiting. The doctor ensures that he'll help find the person. So Ram goes with him. He never really liked hospitals. He preferred meeting the boy outside, but he can't just wait skeptically. 

He realised he didn't know anything about the boy, other than the fact he liked to listen to music and make promises. After a lot of description, the nurse understood who he was talking about. "Sir, the boy lost his mother a month ago. We had no choice but to hand him over to the social services. He had no kin.", She said.

"Oh. Is there anyway I can find him?", He asks again, amazed at how his voice was pleading. He can't seem to remember the last time he really pleaded for something. "I could call up the social services and ask about him. I don't know if they will be willing to give away details.", She said kindly.

"Please try. I'll wait right here.", Ram said.

.....

He stares at the gate of the orphanage for sometime before finally gathering up the courage to go in. A place he dreaded. A place with memories of people who had chances and who tugged at his sleeves. Memories that flew alive when his feet touched the premises of similar soil.

He talked to the authorities inside and they showed him the boy. The boy looked like a doll that had been washed way too many times, his colours all dim and eyes all empty. Ram sat next to the sand castle he was making. He looked over at Ram and then went back to the castle. 

"Do you want to hear a song?", Ram asks.

He looks up, a glint of life simmers in his eyes.

"Is it you? Is it really you? You look different with the beard and all.", The boy answers.

Ram smiles. He takes out his phone and earphones. He places one in the boy's ear and one in his own. 

"Which song should I play?", He asks.

"Anything. Any song.", The boy replies, smiling. Ram could feel his heart softening. 

He plays Shaayad. The music fills their ears, the empty ones without the earphones awake to the world, to keep them grounded, to tell them both it wasn't a dream. 

*Jaane yeh raaste le jaate hain kahan pata na* (Shaayad - Taba Chake)

The boy giggles and looks at Ram. Ram smiles back. 

*Gir pade jo toh girne do, hausle toote nahi*

They both listen to it keenly. The boy's head find a place on his shoulder and he lets it be. Ram wanted to know whether the boy was crying, but then the song ended. 

Cherathukal started playing. And this time, he could clearly hear the boy sobbing. Ram holds the boy in his hands, removes the earphone from his own ear and places it in the boy's empty ear. He decided the boy wanted to be alone in his world right now, he wished for his hands to be his link to the big world now, to help him drown away from the cruel clutches of life, for a few minutes untill the song ends. This was the only way he knew how and the boy let it all out, so comfortable in the arms of a man who came back for him.

And there he was, a unique man who had strange wishes and who kept promises, embracing a boy who ensures him that he will be given a chance. A chance to love.