"Happy Birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Alisha! Happy Birthday to you!" the whole crowd sang, but out of doubt the mother's voice was the loudest.

The birthday girl, Alisha Stacey just looked here and there, as if searching among the crowd someone she longed the presence of. Her brother, who stood beside her, gave a tap on her shoulder, "Cut the cake, Sissy"

The mother smiled gently, "Haha, Alisha will wait for her dad first, right?"

The little 4 year old, now turning five, couldn't wait for her dad to come back and cut the cake with her. 

The phone rang with a sudden thud. 

Alisha expected it to be her dad but her brother, Cyrus shouted before she could even react, "DAD"

It was not quite a cheerful shout that a father may look up to but it was quite a terrifying one, it felt as if he'd his heart in his mouth.

Through the crowd, the mother battled her way to the phone and picked it up.

A few seconds later, her eyes widened, "YES! He's my husband! What about him?" she asked with concern in her eyes.

The phone dropped from her hands. She dropped to the floor. Getting back up in a few seconds, she mumbled to herself, "Money, money, we need lots of money" and started searching here and there, then the lockers and drawers, and after a few good minutes she spoke again, "No, hospital! We need to go to the hospital, yes hospital.. hospital" she kept talking to herself leaving the whole crowd including the children, Alisha and Cyrus.

It was her father, Alisha Stacey's father, the father of the girl with long hair. Yes it was her father, the father who had met with an accident while hurrying to reach home on her daughter's birthday. The father whom Alisha waited for to cut the cake with on her 5th birthday. The five year old child who didn't quite know what death was. 

A tragedy, of the man who died on his daughter's birthday. Or maybe, a tragedy of the girl whose father died on her birthday.

The cold wind blew her breath way as she stared at the lifeless body before setting it to fire*. 

Will dad not wake up again? Ever again? But dad was not a great sleeper. Maybe dad was too tired. So dad, can I sleep too? I know, sleeping will not bring me to you but maybe my dreams will. Who knows, I might be able to see you again. So, tell me dad, should I sleep for eternity too? 

*It is a religional faith of the most populated tribe in India to burn the bodies of dead people by their eldest son back in the days when this story was set. Nowadays, even girls may do the work but at that time, it was unusual to see a girl performing someone's funeral rites.

The people who love darkness, have once been betrayed by light.