A long time ago, I would woke up with the taste of his dreams in my mouth. They say that if you are in perfect silence, you can hear the beating air in your ears. I could hear his voice beating in my mind as if I was dead. I lost myself with him without knowing it, and one day I panicked.  I could not find myself. I did not remember what it was before. But then, I did not care. I was in him, he was my house, my soul. I could have listened to him even though he was dead, but he died. He took my heart with him hot in his mouth, and I never saw him again. From time to time, I hear my heart beating in his mouth, then I know it's close. I believe in ghosts.

There are dense trees on both sides and we follow a narrow path through the leafy heart. It runs straight ahead and ends with an explosion of golden light. The sun sets. We have been told that the road falls beyond this point and on the other side is the river. But for me it seems like I'm walking towards the sun. It's hot, and Sita coughs next to me, her thick hand pounding her chest every time. Dew seeps into our skin as we sleep in the mud and leaves and the cold grips our bodies. Our bodies trembles with each breath of our lungs. We know it's more than just a health problem, but what can we do?

"The herbs do not work, Baini, I took both leaves and root, I do not know what else to do."

"We can take care of it, Didi, if comrade Ram does not let you go, I will stay with you, we can take care of the lights." I say it even if I do not want it. We do not like to wait here. We do not like to feel. I want to be in front of the line. I want to hear the victory in my ears. But, again, staying back would be a bigger sacrifice, a higher duty. If she coughed, the enemy would hear. I will not let them hear.