The feelings he kept buried in his heart

He was the most beautiful person that Ravi had ever met, sure the Netherworld and all the realms he had visited were filled with various kinds of beauty, earth-shattering, heaven-defying beauty but never had anyone graced his eyes the way Arlen did.

He seemed to glow every day, the more he knew, the more beautiful was.

He was the kindest and warmest person Ravi knew. It was as if his soul itself was a small ball of fire, radiating the kind of warmth that one would crave after coming from a winter storm.

Ravi's life was a winter storm or perhaps that is not an apt description. Perhaps his life was more like a blank canvas or a still well, whatever it was, whatever shape it took, there was no sun in it. No light. No warmth until Arlen.

So many nights Ravi clutched a wine jar and many mornings greeted him passed out on the roof. He really did not care if the sky fell on him and crushed him to pieces nor if the house sinks down and buries in the soil.