Three days have passed since his father had passed away. After the boisterous mourning remain only silences. Without an utter, Nirmala kept the dinner plate in front of Abhay. For the first time, the mother didn’t put her playful scold to her drunken son. Alcohol was not trespassing inundated hearts. Abhay tried his best to look at the food but he could only see memories of his father forcibly making him eat. Pushing back the chair, lingering he started to head towards the drawer where he used to hide his cigarettes between the drawers. It was his father’s desk where not even his father could doubt about the secret storage of nicotine.