Sitting near the window of her study, with a wall to wall bookcase at the backdrop, racks of which were filled with the distinct collectible titles, she was looking out casually. The relentless downpour was splattering the glass window with infinite threads of beady pearls. As if there was a huge rush to hit the ground, out of unknown compulsion, a kind of stampede, she felt. It had turned everything around into a scene of structured chaos as there was a pattern in the merciless lashing, if one noticed closely.

Just like her thoughts. Not ever letting lashing of her mind screen, not even once letting an inch of it go dry without the spell of new random thought, thoughts of life and beyond, of present and future, of achievements and failure, et al, all cascading down with a free fall in the bottomless pit of her thoughts, one after the other, undulating her mind.

The more her mind wandered, the more she shook, involuntarily. Her hands defying the norm of being steady, reflected every tremor felt in the boundless world of thoughts. One such thought however acquired the magnanimous proportion as it surfaced on the horizon of her memories.

There she stood with her arms stretched out, drenched from top to toe, bravely facing up, catching all the strings of raindrops in her wide-open mouth, as much as it could catch and hold. She had become one with the rain, whirling around, acquiring the zen-like status of the whirling Dervishes.

Lost in the rain-soaked memory and dwelling on the slippery threshold of the present, she tried lifting her arms. That very precise moment a bolt of lightning struck her as her shaking arm defied her wish. Wet memory was wiped away in a with a bolt of perilous Parkinson’s. She moved her tongue over the dry lips, gulping down a lump of sorrowful thought.

As she turned her gaze inside, the frail vapors were still leaving the bowl of hot soup kept near her on the table which she had barely finished as she had asked the nurse to stop feeding. There lay a book turned upside down with only a few pages for the end. She wanted to savor the soup, read the book all by herself.

‘It’s not to be’, she affirmed. Sighing, her gaze darted outside.

‘There’s life on the other side’, she thought as she watched a man walking down the street, all drenched, stomping his way through the ankle-deep muddy street water and giving a damn to the heavy downpour. With that thought, she leaned back and closed her eyes.


As he walked in the rain with his clothes dripping and cold making it felt to his bones, he wished to be home.

“Last job of the day and I will have enough”, he assured himself as he thought of his little angle waiting for her gift, a doll that sat pretty in the glass showcase of the toy shop near their shanty. Suddenly he stopped and looked around to confirm the address. There was a complaint about a chocked drainage in the area. There he was to perform his duty more out of compulsion than out of choice. As he looked around, beyond the fence, he saw a glass window. He felt a pinch in his heart as he caught sight of an elderly lady sitting pretty beside the window, un-fathomable number of books behind her, all dry, warm and cosy!

“There’s life on other side”, he thought for a moment and then bent down to open the manhole and immerse himself into the dark, dingy world that fetched his bread and butter.

Picture courtesy Pixabay
Explore previous stories at Stack of Stories


Simon · April 14, 2020 at 7:55 am

Amazed with your Writing! It’s a beautiful story with a beautiful thought ✨👌 Well written ✨✍️Have a beautiful day ✨💐🤗

Jai Samtani · April 14, 2020 at 9:56 am

Tear jerking read short but string impact 😔

    Anagha Yatin · April 14, 2020 at 10:35 am

    Thank you so much Jai for your feedback and continued support! It means a lot to me.

matheikal · April 14, 2020 at 10:03 am

Hope springs eternal in the human breast, as Alexander Pope put it beautifully.

Kikibee · April 14, 2020 at 10:23 am


Jyoti Jha · April 14, 2020 at 11:36 am

This is so intense! Was engrossed in the story. So very well written and heart-wrenching in its own way.

jaya1966 · April 14, 2020 at 12:27 pm

That is indeed a really touching tale. I really wonder how you churn out these beautiful tales non-stop everyday.

Pradeep · April 14, 2020 at 1:53 pm

That life on the other side that she saw was just one of the many. Because there are many hues to the lives in this world. The more we look around, the more discover.
Nicely written piece. 🙂

Durga Prasad Dash · April 14, 2020 at 2:08 pm

Such people play important roles in our life. But how often do we remember them?

soniadogra · April 14, 2020 at 2:32 pm

Yes life on the other side always fancy…Nice stream of consciousness.

jazzfeathers · April 14, 2020 at 3:19 pm

Loved it.

Swarnali Nath · April 14, 2020 at 5:33 pm

A heartfelt one Anagha. My paternal grandpa was a patient of Parkinson’s disease. You reminded me of my childhood days. Loved the style. You are an amazing storyteller.

alpanadeo · April 14, 2020 at 5:51 pm

Anagha..from where you come up with these pieces? Sometimes, we forget these important people in our daily life. This story was full of emotions. A perfect plot for a short films. Are you planning to connect these stories into an ebook?

Shilpa Garg · April 14, 2020 at 7:28 pm

Yes, the life on other side is always different from ours!
Yet another interesting and riveting story, Anagha!

purbajune · April 14, 2020 at 9:20 pm

Wow! What a brilliant tale.

Keith's Ramblings · April 14, 2020 at 10:13 pm

One story, two perspectives. Excellent Anagha, your writing is inspirational.

. L is for …

bloggeray · April 14, 2020 at 11:26 pm

It took me some time to gather what exactly was going on. The opening description is gorgeous.

The story brought memories of Jeffrey Archer’s short story, “The Grass Is Always Greener” to my mind. Beautiful, aching story. 🙂

CRD · April 15, 2020 at 12:14 am

Two different perspectives of life…lovely take Anagha. 🙂


Episode 10 in the series ‘Idiosyncrasies of a Covidiot”


Nisha · April 15, 2020 at 12:25 am

It takes sensitivity to look at life on the other side. I wish there were more people like these two in this world of self-obsessed people who are forever indulging in self pity.

TheDreamGirlWrites · April 15, 2020 at 2:15 am

The story captures the essence of The grass is greener on the other side!

L is for Liar,Liar

Ira Mishra · April 15, 2020 at 2:45 am

Felt a lump in my throat reading this story… Very heartrending to see both the lives each thinking it’s better on the other side…. Life can really be harsh and unfair… I wish everyone could realise that and be greatful to God for all the blessings esp those who are not on either side!!

Shreyas Joshi · April 15, 2020 at 5:14 am

Comparing and judging without analysing the situation is something the root to many problems in ones life. We tend to jump to conclusions without actually understanding the entire scenario and hence give rise to feelings of hatred and jealousy. ‘Never judge a book by it’s cover’ aptly sums up this phenomenal post for me . A clinical description of human mentality! Looking forward to the rest of your posts!

msjadeli · April 15, 2020 at 6:05 am

I love your story and how the reflections of the glass and their thoughts mirrored each others.

Shweta Suresh · April 17, 2020 at 7:48 pm

I loved the way you brought out the contasts! Beautifully witten. 🙂

Sonal Gawande · April 19, 2020 at 1:26 pm

Beautifully written…its veey relevant in today’s time to be thoughtful of people who are doing odd jobs

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