Chapter Two

I turned, startled by the unexpected touch. The man before me was middle-aged, with kind eyes crinkled at the corners and a pleasant smile that seemed to radiate warmth. Despite my inner turmoil, I felt an instant connection to this stranger.

"Why don't we sit down for a moment?" he suggested, gesturing to the bench. His voice was gentle but firm, leaving little room for argument.

Wordlessly, I nodded and allowed him to guide me back. As we settled onto the somewhat warm metal, he turned to face me, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"So," he began, his tone conversational, as if we were old friends catching up, "want to tell me why you're thinking of ending your life? I might turn out a better listener than your doctor... or at least cheaper."

I let out a bitter laugh, surprised by his directness. "I'm just... done," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can't figure out how to live anymore. Everything I touch turns to ash. I have no idea why I'm here. Existence is all just pain and suffering. I see no meaning, no purpose. Not just for me, but for existence itself. It's just all a myth. I see no reason to live. Why live at all?"

The man nodded thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving my face. "Let me ask you something," he said, leaning forward slightly. "Imagine you're trying to drive a car on a busy road. You're fine when it's open and empty, but as soon as things get tough, you can't manage. What do you do? Throw away the car?"

I blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected analogy. "I... I don't know."

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Of course not! You work on your driving skills. Because no matter how many cars you throw away, you're not going to magically learn to drive."

"Destroying the body, wouldn't teach you how to live, will it?"

Despite myself, I felt a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "So you're saying I need... to learn how to live?"

"Exactly!" He clapped his hands together, his enthusiasm infectious. "To truly live, you need to understand what life is about. You need to know why to live and how to live. And to do that, my friend, you need to answer three fundamental questions."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite my lingering despair. "And those are?"

He held up one finger. "Who am I?" A second finger joined the first. "What is this existence?" Finally, a third. "And what am I supposed to do?"

I felt a spark of something I hadn't experienced in a long time – curiosity. "That's... a lot to think about."

The man's eyes twinkled. "Indeed it is. But tell me, isn't it more interesting than just giving up?"

For the first time in what felt like ages, I found myself nodding in agreement. The platform no longer seemed like the edge of oblivion, but the beginning of something new and unexplored.

"I'm Somendra, by the way," the man said, extending his hand.

As I reached out to shake it, I felt a glimmer of hope - the first step on a journey I never expected, one that just might lead me back to life.