Roshani Chokshi

For Aman, whom I would wear out iron shoes for, and for Niv, whose friendship is the rarest form of magic

Myths are but lies breathed through silver.

But oh, my love, you lied.

I have never understood this preoccupation with the rich and famous and how they spend their existence.

Some individuals are like portals, the knowing of them makes the world a far vaster place. In Indigo’s presence my world widened. Brightened.

“Reality is what you make of your surroundings. And the world outside my own cannot touch me.”

And only then did I realize she’d drawn blood.

make peace with the lightless space between what you cannot believe is a truth and what you know must be a lie.

I may have entered her world that day, but soon she became all of mine.

Indigo was so much like the fairy tales she loved that I suspected she was one. It didn’t matter how many times I touched her, fucked her, held her. She was a phantasm to me, proof of the impossible and thus a talisman against the absence that had haunted my adult life.