Akash steps out of the washroom. He has taken a bath, as made evident by his wet hair. He has a small over over his shoulders to absorb the excess droplets of water from his hair. His  bedroom glows in the warm yellow ceiling light. It shines directly over a single bed which has its head to the wall. Diagonally opposite the bed is a wardrobe with a full length mirror attached to it. Next to the wardrobe is the door to the washroom.

Akash looks at himself in the mirror for a while before opening the wardrobe. The wardrobe is an epitome of neatness. In one section, there are jackets neatly folded and stacked. In another section, lie his jeans and some track pants. In another, there are shirts and t-shirts. He opens a drawer on the left of the wardrobe. There are two wallets in it- one in a good condition, and one tattered. Akash picks up the old tattered wallet. Just then, a keychain dangles down.

The keychain is a circular frame and has what might seem like somebody's picture. Time has caused the picture to fade, and the only thing visible are the silhouettes of two faces- one of a man and the other of a woman. It is attached to an old bag in the section above. He pushes the keychain back in place.

Akash opens the wallet which reveals a driving license with his name. Akash Kant.

***

The next morning, Akash steps out of the house. He emerges to find mounds of snow in the yard, much more than what he had anticipated. He wades through the snow which comes up to his knees. He has some difficulty walking, but goes ahead nevertheless. He is heavily clad in woolen clothes which are of little to no help in this weather. He pulls his jacket closer while making his way to the storeroom. Once he reaches there, he clears the ice off the knob. He takes out a key from his pocket, inserts it in the keyhole and after some struggle, manages to open the door.

He steps into the storeroom and reaches for the switchboard to his right. The bulb flickers to life and a yellow glow is cast over the place. The storeroom is a rather tidy place. Hanging on the wall opposite the door are eleven axes with their handles in wooden tubes. Hammers, pickaxes, shovels and other tools are arranged against the same wall in a line according to their sizes. To the right are logs of wood of all sizes, stacked up.

Akash picks up the biggest shovel and leaves the storeroom, leaving the light on and door open. He begins clearing the snow in a calculated manner. He possesses the experience of the man who has done this numerous times, and his actions seem more natural. He does not stop even for a moments- he goes where his muscle memory takes him. Beginning with the gravel path and then moving to the remaining yard, he takes lesser than the anticipated time to clear all the snow. Satisfied, he manages a small smile, which disappears as quickly as it came. Smiles are a rare commodity for Akash, better hidden than shown.

***

Prithvi, in all probability, is having the bumpiest ride of his life. He is in a jeep which is taking him to Kailash Lodge. The road, already bumpy, is covered in snow, making the ascension all the more difficult. The driver looks a bit irritated with the conditions his jeep is being subject to, but does not openly portray it. He keeps driving, scowling every time a tire passes over a rock which he could have seen if not for the snow. Prithvi is oblivious to the driver's mood. He has just one concern, the fulfilment of which is his top priority.

The jeep finally comes to a halt where the road ends- Kailash Lodge. Prithvi steps out and pays the driver. No sooner does he take out his suitcase and backpack than the driver makes a U-turn and heads down for an equally bumpy ride. Prithvi stands in his place for a while, staring at the jeep until it disappears.

He goes round the lodge to reach the gate. He looks at the signboard. Kailash Lodge. He manages a smirk before pushing the gate open. The gate makes a creaky sound and leaves a mark on the snow as it is opened. Prithvi steps inside and shuts the gate behind him. He scans his surroundings. Utter isolation. Prithvi finds nothing that can help him call this place a place of solitude. Isolation rings in his ears. The yard is clear despite the heavy snow. He sees the familiar in the unfamiliar.

For a moment, he places his palm on his chest as something in his causes him unfathomable pain. He sniffs, trying to blink away the tears slowly forming on his eyelashes. His discovery is not to be in vain. His discovery must bear fruit.

***

Akash is in the kitchen, making tea for himself. A tea pan is on the stove, water already boiling in it. He adds tea leaves, sugar and spices to it. He grates some ginger and waits for the flavors to infuse in the water. The water changes color gradually, taking on a dark brown tone. Akash waits, tapping his fingers. He does hear the gate creak open, but waits. After a while, the doorbell rings. Akash lowers the flame and heads out of the kitchen.

He opens the door and freezes in his spot. In front of him is the last face he would want to see on the planet. Blood drains out of his face and he breaks into a cold sweat. His body hasn't reacted  this way in a long time, and thus the sudden flux in his homeostasis causes him more concern.

Prithvi, on the other hand, heaves a sigh of relief. He steps forward and embraces Akash. His happiness is short lived for he finds Akash's body stiffening in his embrace. Prithvi takes a step back, but continues holding Akash by his shoulders. "Akash..." Prithvi's voice breaks. He sighs, suppressing his outburst of emotions.

Akash nods. "Akash. Akash." He says his name in the most monotonous way, making it appear a distant title that is not his to claim.

"It took me... it took me so many years to find you. Why would you hide here? Why would you continue hiding here? You should have..."

Akash chortles. "You told me to hide. That's what I have been doing all along."

Prithvi's smile fades away. Akash frees himself and heads back to the kitchen, leaving Prithvi standing by the door.

Back in the kitchen, Akash looks at the boiling water. He takes a jug and pours some more water into the pan. He adds all the ingredients from before, the only difference being that the previous calm has now been replaced by anger, evident from the way he places the jars back in their place. Engrossed in his actions and thoughts, Akash fails to realize that Prithvi is now standing at the entrance of the kitchen.

Leaning against the frame, Prithvi observes Akash. The person standing in front of him is his brother- once familiar, but now a stranger. Prithvi's finds his assumption misplaced; he had expected to find the same Akash, but the person standing in front of him is nothing more than a shadow of his former self. The face has matured, but is now sullen. The boy-- once full of life-- is now a man devoid of the desire to live.

Prithvi walks into the kitchen and washes his hands in the sink. He dries them on a cloth hanging next to it. He sneaks another glance at Akash who is doing everything in his power to avoid meeting his eye.

At the far end of the kitchen, on the wall with the window is a small table with a bench each on either side. There is enough space to seat 4 adults. Prithvi sits on one of the benches. His elbows on the table, he props his hands up and resets his chin on them.

Akash adds milk to the boiling water. His hands rest on the counter as he stares at the milk slowly gaining color. His face too, has regained some color. He bites his lower lip in, stopping only when he finds it bleeding. Unable to hold back his curiosity, Akash speaks, keeping his eyes glued on the tea. "Why are you here?"

"To meet you." Prithvi answers, his eyes in turn fixed on Akash.

"What's your rank?"

"A.C.P, Dehradun Police."

Akash balls his fist upon hearing this. "Are you here alone?"

"I am."

"Have some tea and leave. No need to shoot yourself in the foot..." Akash's voice trails off. 

Prithvi gets up from the bench. He comes and stands next to Akash, but leans against the counter to be able to see his brother. "How did you hide so well that it took me all these years to find you? It took me so much time and effort to find you. If not for me..."

"So what?" Akash hisses. "What if not for you? What are you trying to prove here? You aren't doing me any favor by having found me. I didn't even ask for it."

"Akash!" Prithvi yells. "You should have tried returning. No, you should have returned. How long do you plan on staying hidden here? How long?"

"It's not like I didn't try. I tried. I cried. I begged to be taken back. But Papa. Papa said no. He didn't want me around anymore. I was dead to him. To you."

Prithvi's expression changes. A wave of disbelief takes over him.

***

11 years ago

A 21 year old Akash dragged himself through the bustling market street with a heavy suitcase in his hands and perhaps an equally heavy backpack. His face was stained with tears, and even though he tried his best to hold them back, they came out in short bursts. He kept wiping his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his jacket, but it was to no avail. His face was also flushed red- a combination of crying and climbing the steep roads.

He scanned the crowd around him, seeking a familiar face, but all he could see were strangers passing weird looks at his disturbed state. He knew he looked disheveled, and it could not be helped. He spotted a phone booth some distance away. He hastened and reached it. Once inside, warmth flooded over. After a long time, he was away from the cold enough to freeze a living person with prolonger exposure. He put some coins into the phone and dialed a number. As the phone rang, Akash's anticipation and anxiety rose. He clutched the phone tighter. Finally, the ringing stopped and someone answered.

Akash cared little for anything else. He spoke immediately. "Papa, it's me, Akash. I want to return." He waited for his father Amit to say something from the other end. There was a long pause, which increased his anxiety. Akash did his best trying to hold back his tears.

Akash had guessed Amit's state of being in that moment. He must be in the living room. He must be wearing his standard white kurta and pajama with a knitted sweater.

What Akash could not have guessed was the fact that his father felt like a defeated man in that moment. Amit sighed into the phone. "Akash, don't return home. No matter what, just don't return."

Akash was bewildered. He could not bring himself to register what he had just heard. "Don't say that. I- I won't be able to live that way. Where would I go?"

"I don't know." Amit paused and gulped, trying to hold back his tears. "Just don't return." He was getting teary. He clutched the receiver tighter with his shivering hand to stop it from falling.

Akash began sobbing into the phone. He had lost all control. He sniffed and gulped as he tried speaking. "Don't do that to me, please. Don't..." An idea struck Akash, and there came a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He had to try it. "Prithvi. Where's he? Let me speak to Prithvi. I must speak to him. Give him the phone. Please."

"He isn't around. He has started working. Let him live his life. That's my only request. I cannot allow you to destroy his life as well. Please. Leave us alone." Amit said.

"Papa, no..." Akash pleaded. "Please let me speak to Prithvi. Prithvi knows everything. Give me a chance to explain myself, huh? I can explain every single thing to you. You would understand. You must. You are..."

"Akash," Amit interrupted. He grabbed the phone tighter as tears streamed down his face. "Don't. You will never speak to Prithvi or me. You are dead to us. Remember that. Don't ever show up here. Never." Unwilling to listen to any other argument, Amit slammed the phone down.

Akash heard a long beep on his end. The sound went on for an eternity, as the world around him spun violently. The people outside carried on with their lives, unaware of the turmoil in Akash's life. But who was he to them anyways? Just a stranger. The people had enough of their own worries to concern themselves with someone they were seeing for the first, and in all probability, the last time. 

Akash put the phone down and remained in the phone booth for a while to compose himself. Once he was done sobbing and blaming himself and the world, with a bitterness that consumed the entirety of his being, he stepped out with his suitcase. He had lost, and he took that defeat.

***

Akash and Prithvi stare into each other's eyes. The tea boils and overflows. Akash quickly turns off the stove, still looking at Prithvi. Akash then breaks the eye contact and grabs a strainer. He strains some tea in a mug and hands the mug to Prithvi. There is nothing left for Akash. As always.

Prithvi steps back with the mug and observes Akash as he cleans the countertop. Once done, Akash looks at Prithvi squarely. "Leave once you are done drinking the tea."

"And if I refuse?" Prithvi asks, raising his eyebrow.

Akash shakes his head, lets out an exasperated sigh, and leaves the kitchen.