The Government had just proposed the revocation of article 370 from the constitution, taking away the special status conferred to the state of Jammu and Kashmir. Even the left and the centre wing seemed to be on the side of this decision, although not without some apprehensions about the way it was taken. The majority of the nation was celebrating the decision. The people whom it heavily concerned were clueless.

"Do you want to go to the market?" Azad called up to ask his friend Akash. He wanted to get a book, some packs of Maggi and a perfect roll. More than three years of B.Tech. had made the latter two of those items their staple.

"What? The sun is out! At least wait till it's 7," said Akash.
"Really? You think this is sunny?"
"Umm yeah."
"I’m leaving now, you suit yourself."

Picking up a paper bag, Azad left for the local market. He put on his earphones and played his regular playlist starting with 'Ik Bagal' from Gangs of Wasseypur. The song somehow made him think about the simple nature of everyone's basic needs. And yet how difficult it is to procure them, leading to the morally black or grey decisions.

The market was a small one, a minimal park surrounded by shops and stores on three sides. It was a place where several students flocked to during the post-college hours. The local housing societies added to its crowd.

Azad went about getting the things he needed. The book he bought was about how humans are now supposed to evolve to God's level, with immortality being the general purpose of science.. Azad bought the book as it offered a viewpoint contradictory to his own pessimistic one. He thought the world was falling back into the traps of hatred, subjugation of the minorities and ideas of race supremacy.

As he was leaving the market, he saw a poster over a fruit-shake stall in the market. 'FREE SHAKE FOR ALL. CELEBRATING REVOCATION OF ARTICLE 370', the poster read.

Some happy faces were taking the freebie from the stall. Some were clicking pictures of the poster. Some were joining the queue for another round of the free deal, while some were simply sitting and judging the freeloaders.

"Bro, come to the market straight away! The shake-wala is handing out free mango shake to all", Azad called his friends instantly.

It usually took 10 minutes of walking to reach the market from Azad's society. That day, his friends were there in less than 5. They all had two glasses full with everyone eventually uploading an Insta story. They all left the market with a content smile.

---

"Bro, at least mix half a cigarette, I don't want it to be that blunt," Azad told Akash. "We are doing it after so long, let's do it properly," said Akash.

Azad gave in to this suggestion from Akash, his own greed overcoming any other counter-argument offered by his conscience.

---

"If I trace back my existence, I reach the primitive unicellular organism I evolved from. What it means is before that unicellular organism was born, I was nothing but lifeless matter. The same matter that I will be after my death, the same matter that makes up Mars and the core of the farthest of the stars. Does that mean I'm the universe itself?" asked Azad half an hour and several puffs later.
"Yup, that means you are Brahmasmi. Now could you please shut up?"

Lost in his train of thoughts, Azad didn't hear what Akash said. He was hallucinating through galaxies light-years away, looking at the pale blue dot from far and thinking about the inconsequentiality of it all.

Suddenly, when his mind was telling him that he himself is the centre of the multiverse, Azad felt a jolt in his stomach. This was followed by a painful contraction of the gut. "Not feeling well, I'm heading back to my room," said Azad.
"Whatever. Just don't die."

As he was scurrying towards his flat, his senses were coming back to him. He was now feeling nauseous. Once in, he headed straight to the washroom. Just the sight of the washbasin brought content from his stomach into his mouth and he puked. And he puked again. And 10 more times after that. He had never had a bout of vomit that excruciating. He puked till all he could vomit was clear water. He looked up in the mirror. His eyes were heavily sunken and the cheeks hollow. It was as if he had been close to decoding some existential reality but life didn't want anyone to find it out and interceded. It was as if he was close to being out of the simulation and the programming went haywire. It felt like something or someone had intervened. Feeling all weak now, Azad hit the bed immediately.

Throughout the tumultuous sleep, Azad kept dreaming about just one thing- the juice shop, the number of happy faces around it and the grim-faced shop owner inside it.

He woke up late the next day. Groggily, he checked his phone and saw a number of missed calls from home and a bazillion messages on WhatsApp. He picked up the phone and went to the washroom. He put up the toilet lid, sat down and clicked on the first notification on his phone.

The phone hit the ground with the distinctive sound of glass shattering. It was as if he was paralyzed. His ears had turned red and he was shivering like he was naked in January. Through his bloodshot eyes, he looked at the cracked screen and read again the headline- 'At Least 50 confirmed dead after consuming poisoned mango shake from a stall in Noida. The stall was owned by a Kashmiri'