Contents on him: one used tissue and picture

The whistling of the blind man sitting next to the Clinic filled the air yet the big blue room in apartment 22 of the Castle Apartment was silent. Silence was a tell tale sign that something was wrong with Jonah. The room always echoed his laughter and commotion whether or not Alec was there; it was too quiet. If his parents would have really known him, then Baasim and Hamsa Tajmatan would have notice, maybe they would have even inquired the strange behavior. But his parents did not know him. 

The beautiful sun shined into his room, the plethora of texts began to accumulate, and Jonah began to mourn on this beautiful Saturday morning. This Saturday morning belonged to Raja, it would now always belong to the Indian girl with long curls and hazel eyes. He pulled and tugged for the box under his bed which remained unlabeled. As Jonah opened it, his eyes gazed over the new paper articles written in Hindi, the language he struggled to keep up but his parents only spoke. The images of a destroyed car and unknown family members crying on the articles could not be ignored, nor would they ever be. Love letters and silly pictures filled the rest of the box. But Jonah could't remember the beautiful times, he refused to take his eyes off of the new paper clippings while Bob Dylan filled his head. "It was then he felt alone and wished that he'd gone straight/and watched out for a simple twist of fate", he fought back the tears but failed. Raja's death was more than a simple twist of fate, it was a sudden burst of violence and depression that had changed everything. 

The first attack of the Indian terrorist group in New Delhi had taken his first love as their first victim exactly four years ago. After this, the attacks became regular and forced many to flee from New Delhi, including the Tajmatan family. 

Ordinary memories of the beautiful Indian with hazel eyes and long curls could not be simple. Nostalgia of her forced Jonah to understand that his love had become collateral damage in an effortless war of terrorism in Indian. And the realization that his parents had did not love  him when they tore him from the scene of the accident and Raja’s bloodied body and then from the country he loved.

This beautiful Saturday was spent in memory of Raja and New Delhi.