When Anant was 16, his father torched himself in his home office. He never found out what made his father do that. “ Do you know how burning flesh smells?” he asked while laying beside me and tracing circles on my hand . “No and I hope I never get to.” I met Anant in college ; he was a loner like me. I wouldn’t call him handsome, but there was something appealing about his personality . Passing by boys dorm room to collect my notes from one of my classmate I heard ‘Marvin Gaye Let’s Get it on’ coming from Room 13, when I peaked through the window , I saw Anant siting in dark and playing with a lighter, it ...