The Divorce

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 59; the fifty-ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​IndiCreator. For Creators. By Creators.. Share Your #LockdownTales at indicreator.com

Home is where your heart is
When the heart breaks, home breaks.

It was a beautiful Sunday morning. Sanaya was busy making tea for her husband and herself. She poured the tea in two beautiful and delicate china cups. Put them in the tray with some biscuits and walked to the living room with the tray where her husband was watching TV. On the way, from the table, she picked up a mud-colored folder. She sat beside her husband, gave him one cup and the folder.

“What is this?” He inquired about the folder.
“Look for yourself,” She replied dryly.


When he looked into the file his eyes became wide.

“Divorce?” He was baffled beyond belief. “But why”?
“You don’t know?”

He looked all the more baffled.

“I know you are cheating on me.” She said with a sigh.
“What? What are you saying? No.”
“I saw you with her yesterday in the coffee shop around the corner from your office. I have seen you with her a few more times as well, in some restaurants and other places.”
“Yesterday? I was with my secretary. We were there for a meeting.”
“Just the two of you?”
“No, we were waiting for the clients.”
“So, you take her everywhere?”
“No. Only where she is needed officially.”
“So, it means everywhere.”
“You are making unnecessary assumptions.”
“You know I am right. Just sign the papers. I can’t be with you anymore.”


Later that night Lockdown was announced. Sanaya received a call from her lawyers saying they will have to wait till the lockdown ends. The courts are closed and will be only resumed after the lockdown.

“Looks like we are stuck together for some time.”

But her problems didn’t stop there. The next day, the owner’s association of her apartment community decided they will not allow anyone inside, not even the household support like maids and cleaners.

Sanaya had to get up at 5 in the morning to go on her jogging routine. It was one thing that gave her peace. Then, she would clean the dishes, clean the house, and cook. They both were working from home, so she had to cook both breakfast and lunch in the morning. Then they would eat together. After two days, her husband realized how hard it was for her to manage everything. So, he started to get up early as well. While Sanaya cleaned utensils, he cleaned the house. When she cooked, he helped her with choppings and other little things.

She started to enjoy their time together. When they were working in different rooms, she would look forward to their lunch breaks and the conversations that came with it. It started to feel like the time they fell in love after their first meeting in a marathon. They both were fitness lovers. They used to enjoy these marathons. That led them to more meetings and eventually, they fell in love with each other. They even bought the Samsung smartwatches together.

But after marriage, he was sucked up in corporate life and work. She kept enjoying her jogging routines but he was busy working and going around in corporate parties. In just one year, the distance between them grew and the next year became unbearable with their continuous fighting. They started to avoid each other and sometimes it is days before they see each other again.

Lockdown has brought them close together. Although he wasn’t back to jogging or any kind of work out, but he was always helping her with household work. They started talking again. It wasn’t like they were back in love again like before but at least they weren’t on each other’s throats.

But that happiness was short-lived. He fell ill, suffering with fever. She was scared for him, scared if he was down with the deadly COVID-19. They had him tested and thankfully he tested negative. But he was down with a viral fever that was severe. The doctor advised him to bed rest. So, now she was handling the household, her office work, and her husband as well. But the worry she felt for him made her more than willing to do anything necessary to make him comfortable. She was always around him, taking care of all his needs.

Five weeks hence, and things had fallen into a routine. They had fallen into an amicable arrangement. A week after his illness, with her care, he was feeling better. She was taking an important office call in the other room and he was thirsty. So, with a lot of effort, he got up and started walking towards the kitchen. It was then that he overheard her.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do us anymore.”
“I know things haven’t been good between me and him for quite some time now but the lockdown has brought us closer.”
“No. You don’t understand, there is no Us now. I am in love with him. Again.”
“Please. That was a mistake with you. I found comfort in you when things were rocky in my marriage. But now I want it to work. I don’t love you. I love him, my husband.”
“We will not be in touch anymore. Goodbye.”

When she opened the door, he was standing before her, tears rolling down his eyes. She was shocked.

“Listen, I can explain.”

He held his hand up.

“There is nothing to explain. You have been cheating on me the whole time and you pointed the fingers at me, making me the culprit. Why? To ease your own guilt or for finding a reason to blame me for the divorce. I am sorry I ever fell in love with you. For two years you proved yourself to be the worst wife anyone could have. You were never supportive, never there when I needed you to, always busy with yourself. Always avoiding when I wanted to talk about the problems I was facing. You were the kind of wife I would never wish on someone. But in the last two months, you were the best wife. You looked after me, you were a friend, a mother, a girlfriend, everything to me. A marriage works more on trust than on love. Even though I love you still, I can’t trust you anymore. You wanted a divorce, you will get one as soon as the court resume.”

With this, he walked away from her, never to look back.

Good to be back for #BlogATon59 with the #LockdownTales.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Show your support for the hastags #BlogATon59 & #LockdownTales. Participation Count: 23.

The Real Dream

                 Truth Or Imagination? I Will Never Know

It was getting late enough to be worried. I once again stepped into the balcony and looked down. Except for a drenched street dog that was lying down miserably near the gate, there was not a soul to be seen anywhere. Rain water had puddled under the lamp post. A breeze ruffled the mango tree in the courtyard and a few twigs fell down and broke. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Did I hear a soft knock at the door? Iran down. It must be him. I hurriedly went to open the door. Right then the lights decided to go out. It was pitch black. I lit the lantern and the entire cottage was drenched in the soft romantic light. I opened the door. There was no one outside. I peered a little more. The street dog was still there.

Must have been the winds. As I was about to close the door, wind gushed inside the cottage and I sniffed a smell. His perfume. But where was he? It was really late. He should be home hours before. I closed the door and turned to go back inside. After a few steps I heard another knock, a more persistent one. My heart jumped. It’s him. I ran to the door and opened it with a grin. But my smile faded as I saw the sheet of darkness spread before me. There was still no sign of him.


“Waiting for someone?”

I almost jumped out of my skin, my heart thudded so loudly inside my chest that I bet anyone in my proximity could hear it. I turned around and saw him. He was there, inside, freshly showered. He looked at my face and laughed aloud.

“Want some coffee?” He asked as if nothing had happened.

“How did you get inside?” I asked perplexed.

“What kind of question is that? I came in when you opened the door for me. I went in and bathed and you were still standing there at the door looking lost.”

“But I didn’t see you coming in the first time and neither on the second time.”

He brought two cups of hot steaming coffee to the table. He knows very well that I love coffee in this kind of weather.

“Baby You work yourself up too much.” He lovingly caressed my cheek. His hand felt cold. I shivered. The whole things was still creepy. We ate our dinner and he did most of the talking. And then we went to bed. He read his novel for sometime as usual and then slept off snoring softly. But sleep eluded me. Something was still nagging at the back of mind. Suddenly a thought struck me. I have heard and read many stories of the souls of loved ones coming back to say the final goodbye. I was scared.

Was he lying dead somewhere or deeply hurt about to die? Is this his soul? Has he come to say his goodbyes to me? I had no idea if the souls could make coffee or eat dinner. But I knew you can’t touch them. I looked at him. He was sleeping contently. I slipped towards him, put my hands around him and put my head on his shoulder. I could feel him alright, he was alive and he felt good. I smiled as peace and sleep took me in their arms.

I had no idea when the morning came. A stream of light from the window disturbed my sleep. I slowly opened my eyes, only to realise I was sleeping in the same position, only he was not there. I was alone in my queen size bed. I jumped. Was I dreaming last night? Wasn’t he here last night? I washed and combed and went downstairs. The smell of freshly brewing coffee hit my nostrils along with the aroma of immensely mouthwatering breakfast. He was there in the kitchen humming to a song on the radio. It was a sight to behold. Although this was an almost everyday sight, but today it looked different. May be because of the mental state I was in. He gave me a brilliant smile and signed me to sit down. In few minutes he brought me the lavish breakfast and two cups of coffee. We ate in a companionable silence, throwing smiles at each other every now and then.

My head thudded loudly. No, wait! It’s not my head. Although it feels heavy but isn’t pounding. It takes me a few minutes to realise it is the door. I slowly pull my head up from the table. My body felt stiff.

I slept on the table? The clock says it’s 6 in the morning. I was confused. I was having a lavish breakfast at 8 in the morning. How can it still be 6. I looked at the table. There was no trace of any breakfast ever. The kitchen looked untouched as well. Everything was as I remembered on the night of the storm. Was I dreaming? Someone pounded on the door with even more fierceness.

“Is someone there? Please open the door.”

I dragged myself to the door. My head still felt heavy like hell. I stood agape as the scene started to unfold before in front of my eyes. The police stood with their caps in their hands and on the ground, wrapped in the white sheet was him. My breath hitched in my throat, my heart stopped beating. Was I dreaming then or am I dreaming now? My head spinned.

But...but he was here this morning. This can’t be him. He can’t be dead. And I kept blabbering until I fainted. I woke up in a dimly lit room. It looked familiar. My head felt light. The place looked familiar. Our bedroom. Then it all started coming back to me. The police, him wrapped in white sheet. Tears started to flow shamelessly and I started to choke. Suddenly he was there beside me, offering water. I looked at him stunned. Relief flooded me and I hugged him tight.

“You are alive! You are alive! I cried.

He laughed “Of Course I am alive. What came over you suddenly?”

I looked at him stunned. I told him everything. He looked worried.

“You were drinking coffee one moment and then you looked lost, like you were dreaming. Suddenly you gave a loud cry and fainted on the table.”

I looked confused, couldn’t understand a thing. I got up from the bed slowly. I felt giddy and swayed a little. He held me tightly. I slowly went out of the room and down the stairs. On the table were still the unfinished breakfast and half drunk coffee. My head whirled. I looked at him, He gave me a sheepish grin.

“Am sorry, with you crying and fainting, I had no time to clear it.”

He pulled a chair, made me sit, handed me a glass of chilled water and began cleaning. I slowly sipped the chilled water, relishing its cold feel against my dry throat. I was lost somewhere far away. I had no idea how long I sat there. He brought me back with a soft kiss on my forehead. He was dressed.

“I have to go to office for sometime. Will you be fine? I will be back soon.”

I just nod my head, he touched my cheek lovingly and then drove off in his car. I just couldn’t take the stress anymore. I went to take a long cold shower. I sat there for I don’t know how long. Once I started feeling a little relaxed, I dried myself and went out. I took my tab and started to ask Google for the answers of my confusion.

Google said I could be Psychotic or Schizophrenic to be precise. They imagine things around them that are not really happening. For them everything they imagine is real. They cannot differentiate between the real and imaginary. Sounds familiar, like me. I don’t know what’s real and what’s imaginary. Have I turned Schizophrenic?

I called my best friend. I cried my heart out and told her everything that have been happening recently. She heard everything patiently, tried to calm me down and promised to be with me as soon as she can. When she came, she found the house as dark as a secret and as quiet as death. She called my names a few times and it was a few minutes before she could find the light in my room. I was sitting in a corner of the bed with the laptop open, tears flowing down my eyes. She came to me and hugged me tight. She tried to console me but I wasn’t listening. My mind was too far away to make anything of what she was saying.

It was sometime before he walked in and found my best friend talking while I just listened. He looked at both of us in confusion.

“What Happened?”

She just turned around the laptop towards him. One look at it and he understood everything. They both sat together, trying to make me understand that it’s just stress. A few incidences doesn’t make you Schizophrenic. It took them hours of relentless counselling but in the end I calmed down a little. But the feeling never left me. Sometimes when you think that you have a certain disease, you relate everything to it. I have no idea it was that or I was really turning into a schizophrenic but whenever I went out, I felt someone watching me. I even saw someone following me a few times. But they often turned out to be a harmless hawker or just a face in the crowd when I tried to figure them out. With each passing day I was going crazier than the day before and even more convinced that I was suffering from a devastating mental illness. I talked him to take me to a psychiatrist just for my satisfaction. With the day in and day out request, he agreed.

The sessions were harder than I thought. Going through them was one thing but reliving it was another level of pain. But with every sitting it became easier. Everyday I told the doctor about the unusual incidents that I experienced. After a few sittings, the doctor suggested for me to stay at the hospitals so that I could be under constant observation. But he declined rightout. After constant persuasion he reluctantly agreed. We were given a few days before I was supposed to be admitted in the hospital. My best friend and my husband they both were by my side continuously. They loved me, counselled me and reassured me. Then the day came, the day when my whole world was going to change, the day I was to be admitted in the hospital.

I felt scared, he was reluctant to leave my side. I was given the hospital dress to change into. I felt tremors inside me. This was going to be entirely new, completely different life from the one that I have always lived. While I was settling into my room, he was filling up the formalities. A few minutes later, he along with my best friend walked into my room. They both looked nervous. It was hard for them as well. They both have always loved me with all their hearts.

“It’s going to be fine.” I tried to assure them. They both just nodded their head.

“ I will be fine soon and will be out of here in no time. Don’t worry.”

“That’s not going to happen anytime soon honey.” He said. I looked at him in confusion while a smile played on his lips. I was bewildered when they kissed, my husband and my best friend.

“It has taken a lot to put to where you are now.” She said with a cruel smile.

Suddenly I understood. I cried like a banshee. Suddenly, the doctors, the nurses they all came rushing into my room. I tried to tell them I was framed, that my best friend and my husband have cheated me and that I wasn’t ill. But before I could I felt something pricking my arm and slowly my eyelids started becoming heavy. I was slipping into the blissful oblivion wishing it all to be a dream, hoping that when I wake up, I wake up in my bed, beside him. After all I was a schizophrenic, so this could be my imagination, right?

The Return of a Dream

She picked up 'Hamlet', her one-time favorite
she went through the line again and again
"To be, or not to be?"
She read again and again-
'TO BE' it is
She Decided

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 58; the fifty-eighth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Saravana Kumar Murugan, the editor of Shades Of Life book series.

“Swapnila, Swapnila.”

His strong voice roared in the house, echoing in her ears. She quickly wiped her hands with the kitchen towel and ran as fast as she could. She couldn’t afford to get him angry.

 “Yes,” she said panting.

 He looked at her with those giant like furious red eyes. She felt the heat and braced herself for the incoming assault. His palm waved in the air and fell across her cheek, leaving angry red fingermarks. The impact was so strong; she instantly hit the floor in a blink of the eye.

 “Is this how you press a shirt? There are creases every where. You will ruin my reputation some day. You useless lady. You are no good. I don’t know why I married you in the first place.” 

She stayed at the floor, not daring to look at him. The tears in her eyes were shining at the brink, threatening to fall. She held on to them and waited with breath held. He stomped and left. She breathed and relaxed a little.

Marriage with Vineet has been a disaster, more of a hell to her. Neither she nor her family had any clue about his temperament. He seemed cool, quiet, romantic and down to earth in the few meetings they had. But it took just a day before he unveiled his true self.

Swapnila almost had a heart attack when Vineet had hit her for the first time, the next morning of their marriage. And that was because the tea wasn’t the way he liked. She talked to her mom who advised her to stay put. She had no choice but to bear the pain. Every second he is around, she would feel the shiver of fear running down her spine.

She was lost in the thoughts with the cup of her favorite coffee getting cold in her hand. The eerie sound of her mobile ringing made her jump. She didn’t have to look for the caller’s name. She instantly received the call.

“Hello,” she said with a shaky voice.

“ I have a packed bag in my cupboard. My driver will be there to pick it up in an hour. I am going on the trip for a fortnight.”

“Okay.”

Although she said it in a low voice, she felt the butterflies in her stomach. She is going to have full fifteen days of freedom from this hell. She will be her queen, doing whatever she feels like. She couldn’t wait.

 After the driver picked up his luggage and she was sure he was not going to come back for another fifteen days, she began to live. She cooked her favorite food and enjoyed her favorite film with a tub of popcorn. She slept in complete bliss. She couldn’t remember when she had slept so peacefully last.

Next day, she went to her favorite place in the house, the library. She hadn’t been there in a long time. She looked at the cardboard boxes in the corner of the neatly set room. Her books have faced the similar rejection like her. She walked to them and began opening them one by one. The familiar smell filled her heart with the kind of content and happiness that she had not experienced in a very long time. The crates were full of fantasy fictions, romantics, and love stories. Looking at them she realized how far she has come from her fantasies, her dreams.

Among her treasures was her most prized possession, the Love Story by Eric Sehgal. She picked it up and cleared the dust from the cover. It has the word ‘Nirvaan’ signed across it in small and neat handwriting. She lovingly ran her fingers on the name. This was her first gift from her little brother. He had said that this is how he thinks her life would be, full of love and happiness. And when she was going through the book, she had dreamed of all those beautiful things in her life. And now it was a dream broken, piercing her heart and making it bleed. She had lost all her dreams and all her hopes of escaping this hell.

Her phone rang again, making her jump out of her dreams. She felt her heart racing. It wasn’t him. She picked up the call, still cautious.

“Hello”

“Is it Swapnila?”

“Yes, who is it?”

“Swapnila, this is Neha. You remember? We have been in the same school, same class, same bench,” “Neha Sinha.” 

She was surprised, and it showed in her voice. It had been ages since she had been in touch with her.

“How are you?” Neha asked.

“Good but how did you ever find me?”

“I have my sources. You vanished, just like that, from the face of the Earth.”

“I got married.”

Though she laughed at her joke, the mere mention of him or her marriage sends fear running down in her blood streams.

“Okay. I called to invite you on the get together of our batch. We are meeting in your city, and we expect you to come. No denial and excuses.”

She laughed at the familiar authoritative tone of her friend.

”I will.”

And with that, she was glad that Vineet was on his trip for another fourteen days.

 *********************************************************

 The party was great. She was feeling high after meeting her school friends and also a little tipsy after drink. In some other time, she would not have dared to do what she did today. She changed, turned off the lights and slipped under the sheets. She closed her eyes and saw Akshar’s face. She had not been able to get him off her mind. The whole school had known back then that he had a huge crush on her, so huge that he had even gotten her name tattooed on his wrist. When she and one of the friends went to drop the very drunk Akshar in his room, she noticed a fancy tattoo on his wrist, a little different from what it used to be. But those who had seen his previous tattoo could easily make out the initials of her name in it. She looked for a wedding ring and didn’t find any. Later she came to know that he had not married yet.

*******************************************************

The days turned close to the fortnight. It was the time for Vineet to come. After the party, she and Akshar somehow stayed in touched. Their conversations gradually getting longer, and later converting to texts as well when they couldn’t talk. Vineet returned, as so did the hell of her life. But somehow, she had started feeling a little peace along with the fear. She continued to stay in touch with Akshar. Her husband was too busy with himself to notice any change in her. Even she herself remained cautious of giving away anything. Now the slaps stung a little less than before and the pain began to ease out soon. With every passing day, she felt strong. With every passing day, her connection with Akshar grew strong and with every passing day, she felt ever more ready to move out of her hell. Akshar asked her to marry him, told her she had never been over her and was still waiting for her. Although she was ready to move out of her marriage and thanked Akshar for being her strength, yet she was not yet ready to get into another marriage. She had been deceived once and was not yet willing to get into another deceit. She wanted to be sure before she makes a move. Before Vineet could notice anything, Swapnila filed for a divorce finally. He pulled stunts, tried to scare her but she stayed strong, and Akshar stood firmly by her side. Vineet threatened to give her a long troubled fight. But she was ready. It was going to be a long battle ahead, even after divorce. After the law, it will be the society, but beyond that, there was a life, her life, waiting for her. And for that she was ready to fight any battle. This was the beginning of a new sunrise for her, the return of a dream, may be.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Show your support for the hastags #BlogATon58 & #Aativas50. Participation Count: 22.

Hold my Hand

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 57; the fifty-seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Madhu Vajpayee, the author of Seeking Redemption and Shades Publications, the publisher of Friendship- Bonds Beyond Time.

"Hold my hand", she stretched her arms to him. He looked at her in awe. She looked fairer, more radiant and even more beautiful than the last time he had seen her eight months back. That was when she left him and was back today, for him, to him. He stood transfixed, lost.

"Hold my hand", She insisted again. Still in trans, he held her hand. It felt a little cold against his palms. He was too lost to notice any further.

"You came back to me." He exclaimed in a happy sigh. "I knew you would."

"I had to. I had been in love with you for so long. It wasn't easy to let go."

"Then why did you leave me in the first place."

"I had no other option."

He wasn't bothered anymore about the past. He was just ecstatic that she was back in his life. He kept walking, hand in hands with her.

"Where are we going?" He chided with a childlike enthusiasm.

She looked at him lovingly and said, "to some place where we can be together forever."

That was all he ever wanted. He suddenly felt severe pain, as if he was hit by a huge vehicle. He fell down doubled in pain. Everything went blank. A few minutes later he felt relieved. The pain was gone. He opened her eyes and saw her standing at a distance, still smiling. He was relieved he wasn't dreaming about her.

"Hold my hand." She extended her arms again to him. He got up, feeling much lighter and held her hand.

"We will be together forever now." She smiled at him


What he didn't see was the crowd that gathered behind him looking at his body lying in the pool of blood and a truck standing at the distance opposite to them.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 21.

The Secret

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 56; the fifty-sixth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write.

There are no secrets
that time does not reveal
and no wounds
that it can not heal.

His deep blue eyes filled with tears that were ready to explode. His little fingers were tightly curled in the form of fist. His white skin was red with anger. Anybody could say he was trying hard not to cry.

"I am a big boy. I won't cry." With this he suddenly turned back and ran with all his might. He opened the door hastly and searched frantically for someone. He saw a silhouette in the kitchen and ran to it. He hugged the figure clad in saree on her legs and said,

"Momma, they teased me again. They bullied me and said the same things. But I did not cry today. I am a big boy." There was a touch of pride in his voice.

She bent down, hugged him and said with a quivering voice, "Yes my son, you are a big boy now. I am so proud of you."

His eyes gleamed with pride. He felt a little less hurt now.He doted her mother and she doted him back. He smiled, turned back and went into his room. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and wondered how long she will be able to hide the secret from him.

He has been quite independent in comparison to kids of his own age. He was just 7, he bathed on his own, got dressed on his own and even packed his own school bag. When he was ready, he looked at the photo frame on the table that carried the picture of his father. He looked at him sadly. He then took the photo frame, looked at it, looked at himself in the mirror and looked at him again, shrugged, kissed the frame good bye and ran out for his school.

*********

He is now 13 and had now grown up to be a handsome and intelligent young man. Now even he began to notice what the other kids used to tease him about. He doesn't resemble any of his parents. Though he hardly remember his father who had passed away when he was just 5. But from the pictures he knows he doesn't look even an inch like him and he definitely looked very different from his mother. He wanted to ask but never could bring out the question. He loved his mother very much and was afraid he would hurt her. He waited for the right time to know the secret of his looks.

********

He was now employed in a huge firm. He had been told his features are very similar to the owner of the firm. He, till now, hadn't had a chance to meet the ultimate man. His recruitment, trainings and everything else had been handled by his team of professionals. One fine morning when he came to office there was a big buzz. Everyone seemed charged up and busy. Whole office was running around.

"Whats with everyone today." He asked one of his colleagues.

"Boss is paying a visit today."

For some reasons he felt a shiver run down his spine. The man himself was going to be here. he wanted to make a good impression.

He knocked on the door jittery. 

"Come in." A firm authoritative voice said.

When he entered, he stood transfixed, shocked. it seemed like he was looking at an older himself. Apart from the color of eyes and the sharp nose, the person standing in front of him was an exact replica of his, almost.

"Devesh", the man dressed in crisp black business suit said in a tone of question. His voice felt like even he was just out of the shock of their resemblance.

"Yes sir." He said in a trembling tone.

"Come, sit. I have heard a ot about you and I have been wanting to see you for a long time."

Voice betrayed his throat. He could only manage shaking his head. Sensing his discomfort he offered him a glass of water. Devesh moved his head in gesture of no. 

"You remind me of young me. You just have a sharper nose and blue eyes. If I had a son, he would have looked exactly ike you."

"I guess so sir."

"Devesh, tell me about you and your family."

He then began to narrate his life, about his family, his mother, his father. His boss kept questioning him and he kept answering. 

"Sir, if you don't mind, may I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"You said if I had a son...I presume you don't have a son."

"I don't have a child. I am not married."

Devesh wanted to ask why but was afraid of getting too personal. After all it was his first meeting. Sensing his question he answered himself.

"I am not married. I loved a woman when I was much younger. She married someone else. So, that was the end of the story."

They talked a little more. By the time their conversation ended, they both had become fond of each other. 

After the meeting he was not able to concentrate on anything else. His head was spinning from all the information that his boss loved a woman who married someone else and he looked exactly like his boss's son would have looked. He felt sick with the connection this all was making. His heart wasn't ready to believe but his mind calculated that his mother had an affair and there are chances his boss was his father. 

Days passed, but he had no idea how to breach the subject with his mother. He decided to look for something, anything that could take him a step closer to the truth or give him enough confidence to question his mother. Everyday, when he had the chance he would go through his mother's things, hoping to find a letter or a picture of his biological father, but in vain. Day by day, when all his efforts were failing, he started feeling depressed. His mother tried to talk but he blindsided her with the excuse of workload. He now began to doubt his theory. He started believing that it was a sheer coincidence that he looked more like his boss than his parents.

One day when he was going through the things of his father, just hoping to find peace or a proof that would tell him that he was wrong, he found some papers that looked like medical reports. He quickly rummaged through it. But what he found made his heart skip beats. The report was dated before their parent's marriage and said that the man, his said father, lost his capacity of fathering a child in an accident. 

Devesh kept staring at the report. His heart sank. His worst fears have come true. His mother was coquette after all. She did cheat on her husband and her son along with the entire families of both. His fist closed. He was blinded by his anger. He had no idea what to do. He went out.

When he came home late night, he was drunk, he saw his mother was talking to someone over phone. He couldn't hear anything. He stomped to her, snatched the phone off her hand and said in a rude sarcastic tone'

"Been talking to another boyfriend haan?"

She looked at him in amusement and confusion.

"Devesh, you are drunk?"

"Yes, I am."

"But you never drink. Why, why did you drink? If you have a problem, if something is troubling you you can tell me." She tried to console him lovingly.

He pushed her away.

"You can cheat on your husband. And I can't even drink."

She was thoroughly confused now.

" There has to be a misunderstanding my child..."

"No", He shouted even before she could finish, "I know, your husband wasn't my father." And he threw those papers on his face.

She looked horrified. He walked unsteadily to his room. She went after him to talk but he banged the door on his face. She sat there and sobbed. The ring of the phone startled her. She picked it up.

"Hello."

"I have heard everything. The time has come to reveal the secret." Said the voice from the other end.

**********

Next morning when Devesh woke up, he had the mother of all hangovers. He had never touched alcohol in his entire life but last night that seemed be the only way out to him.As his head cleared, he remembered the incident from last night. He felt both angry and guilty. He opened the door and peeped outside to avoid his mother, who was to be seen nowhere. He went to kitchen to make a strong coffee for himself. It was then he saw someone in the kitchen, his grandmother.

"Grandma." He squealed with delight. He was very close to his grandmother. While his mother was busy mourning and trying to keep things together, it was his grandmother who took care of him. She used to pay them often visits, which reduced gradually. He was glad she was here. he needed someone to talk and bare his troubled soul to. 

She offered him coffee. He was surprised how did she know he came looking for coffee.

"How did you know?" 

"I know a lot of things."

His eyes widened in surprise. She smiled.

"I know what you did last night."

"How.."

"It was me on the phone."

He was even more surprised. he had no idea what to say.

"So, tell me everything from where it started."

He stared at the floor, took some time and began telling the story. Slowly, nervously he talked and his grandmother listened. When he was done she was quite for a while.

"So, you think she has cheated on your father."

"He wasn't my father."

"Biologically, no. But he was your father in every other way."

"So, you knew."

"Yes, How could I have not. He was my son."

"So you know mom cheated on him."

"No, she didn't."

He looked at hr in awe. He wanted to say something but nothing came out. His grandmother sighed and said.

"It's time you I tell you everything. I have known your mother since she was a little girl. I was her mother's best friend. She has always been sincere, honest and loyal kind. It happened when she was just 22. She was a beautiful girl and she was sincere and determined to make a career. She worked hard, going college and she took tuitions to earn some money to help her father. It was a late winter evening. It was long past the time since she was usually home. We were al worried. We tried looking for her everywhere but to no avail. It was past midnight and we were thinking over what to do next when she came home. She held the door and fell down. Her clothes were torn. There were nasty bleeding scars on her flesh. When we tried to pull her up and bring her inside. She jumped away screaming and terrified. It took us three hours to clean her up, apply ointments and take her to bed. The reason why you don't look like your mother and why she never told you about your father was because she herself don't know. She was gang raped that night any of them could have been your father."

He gasped in pain, in realization of what he has done.

"We never filed a report for obvious social reasons. Your mother was more like a corpse for a long time. She never said a word, she never ate or let anyone come near her. She always stared at the blank. One day she vomited furiously and fainted. Doctor confirmed our deepest fear. She was pregnant. With you. When she heard the news, for the first time in weeks we noticed the flash of life in her eyes. Unconsciously she covered her stomach with her hands as if shielding it from the world. She started eating. The pregnancy brought out the life in her. We wanted her to abort. After all it was a rape child. She had a long life ahead of her. With a child born of unwed mother and that too raped, all her chances of getting married was lost. But she fought everyone. She wanted to keep you. You were her child. She was even determined to spend her life in solitary, just to have you. By that time my son had been through a tremendous accident and he lost his ability of fathering a child. To save all the three lives, I decided to get them both married. They both knew about each other and respected the decision. They both swore to keep each other's secret, aong with me. And now, you know it."

A long silence followed. She gave him the time to absorb everything and he pondered over all the facts. it was so much for him.

"But I resemble my boss so much. What about that?" He asked his last doubt.

"Coincidence in the answer my child."

His head was much clearer now. Now that he had all his answers, he had no doubt what he was supposed to do next. With teary eyes and heavy heart he walked towards his mother's room.

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Trapped

Trapped

“Where are you going?”  She asked.

“None of your business.”  He replied rudely.

“I am your wife. I have the right to know.”

“That you are. So, don’t act like I am a criminal and you are my parole officer.”

“But…”

Before she could even complete her sentence, he looked at her with those deep black angry eyes and raised his index finger in front of his lips. He then stormed out of the front door. She was stunned by the way he behaved. She kept staring at the door hoping he would come back any time, say sorry and hug her with all the love he claimed he had for her. But this never happened.  She wasn't ready to believe that the loving man she had married could be so rude. She assumed he must be troubled with something. She decided she would talk; she would try to become his best friend. And when he came back it was past midnight and he was drunk.

“Is something troubling you?” She asked him. She was concerned about him after what she saw last night.

“What’s it with you haan? Why do you always have to ask questions? Can’t you just let me be?”  He snapped at her and this time more furiously than the last time.

Before she could say anything, he banged the bathroom door, took his shower, got ready and went out again. Tripti was unable to understand this change in his behaviour. She was a common girl from a small town but with huge beauty and big dreams.  All she ever aspired was to be a princess of a handsome, loving, rich prince. When she came to Mumbai, the city of dreams for her further studies, she was sure this city of dreams will make her dream turn to reality as well. Little did she know what destiny had in store for her. Her beautiful looks and stunning features gave her many rich admirers whom she never denied.  But her life went for a spin when one of her rich connoisseurs took her to Poison.

Mayank was a Casanova. He was undeniably handsome and a charmer. He was one rich spoiled brat who could charm any woman and have his way with them.  So, when he saw Tripti in Poison he knew he has to have her. He played his cards well but Tripti knew better than giving in so easily. She didn’t succumb to his sweet games. She wasn't acting coy but made a point that she wasn't available, at least not so easily. Her playing hard to get made him more determined about acquiring her.

Mayank did put in all his effort and Tripti finally fell in love with him and all his money but decided against surrendering to him before marriage. By know she was well aware of his visage. She knew if she gave in before marriage, she will be dumped like the street side garbage. But once married she was sure she could have a hold on him with all her sensuality and beauty. Every one she knew was against their marriage but she went against the world and married him for love, for money, for her dreams of becoming a princess.

She was taken aback and hurt with his constant changing behaviour. She, by now, knew that he was not the kind of man to be held on. Under his cool, charming demeanour lies a cruel demon and she have had few glimpses of that demon. She was not really ready about what was to come.

His behaviour went on from being rude to harsh and harsher. He never gave her even a glance; he never asked her anything and never replied to her questions. But whenever they made public appearance which wasn't often, he behaved like a perfect husband. She made herself used to his rude remarks and would never have bothered about talking to him until that one night when they went to one of his friend’s party. It has been ages since the last public appearance, so long that she had almost forgotten how it feels to be out in public and have the attention of her husband. He was perfect that night. He feigned his love in public, touched her like a husband would touch his wife, gave her several pecks on her cheeks, danced with her and dined with her. But as soon as they got in their BMW he was back being the stranger to her. That night she decided it was the time they talk and sort things out.

“Mayank, I need to talk to you.” She said as soon as they reached home.

“Not now.” He said irritably.

“When then? Listen we need to talk and talk now.” Her tone became demanding and stern.

“How dare you use that tone with me?”

“How dare you treat me like I am no one, Mayank?” She raised her voice.

“You bitch, dare you shout at me.”

“I will and I have all the rights to do that.”

That was enough to unleash the beast inside him. He pushed her hard. She fell hitting her head to the corner of the wall. He walked past her in cold blood, never looking back at her even once, let alone worrying about her pain. She felt drained. It took her all her might to get up and walk to her bedroom. From that day on it hardly took any reason for him to be violent with her. He would slap her for being in front of him and then would slap her for not being around him. He needed no reason for punishing her. She knew she must leave him or must make complain. But she knew no one will believe her. Their façade of being a perfect couple wouldn't let anyone believe that he could even raise his voice on her, let alone raising his hand. She had no option but to stay in the marriage and with him. . And she had nowhere else to go. Moreover she wasn't yet ready to leave all the luxuries she was now used to. So, she beared with him.

It wasn't easy, at least not as much as she thought. Mayank was getting more rude and violent day by day. And when she decided she could not bear it any more, she decided to give up. She needed to talk to him and she was hell scared of him. But she couldn't see any other way out. She slowly walked to him, her hands stiff on her side, her fist closed. She was ready for any assault.

“Mayank, I want a divorce.”

He stopped whatever he was doing and looked at her like she was a little girl who has made some unnecessary silly demand.

“Are you even listening Mayank? I said I want a divorce.”  Annoyed at his behavior she raised her voice.

He walked closer to her and said in slow menacing voice, “Shouting won’t make me give in to your whims.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means I am not divorcing you.” He said nonchalantly.

“What? But why? Not that you love me.”

“Well, you don’t love me either, then why did you marry me?”

She was shell shocked. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“Don’t think I didn't know.”  He said smiling as if he has caught her stealing.

“Then why did you marry me.”

He came closer to her, put his both palms on the wall on her each side and whispered in her ears, “Because sweetheart you wouldn't let me have you any other way.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and her heart raced because she feared his closeness. Every time he had been close to her, she had been bruised, either by his beatings or by his wild painful love making.

“Now that you have had me, why not divorce me?” She asked him in a challenging tone.

Her tone flared the anger inside him, he held her by her throat and said, “Divorce you and let you have half of my property? This is what you have always wanted, right? Listen it good, I am not going to let you have it.”

His grip tightened on her throat. Her hands automatically went over his hands in effort of loosening his grip.

 “Instead, I will kill you. That’s a better way of getting rid of you.” He said.

“You think you can get away with it?”

“Of course, my love. Everyone knows how much I love you. How could I ever kill you?”  He laughed like a real villain.

She gathered all her courage and pushed him hard. He wasn't ready for her such powerful reaction. He tumbled and she ran. But she couldn't run far. He caught her again on her way to main door, near the dining table. He gripped her by her throat again.

“You think you can escape pretty bitch..”

He kept on mumbling something but she wasn't listening. Her senses were giving away. She could see a dark spot in front of her eyes. She knew she would die soon and her hands searched fanatically for something, anything she could hit him with. Suddenly her fingers touched something long, sleek and hard. She instantly held it tightly, pulled it and hit him with it. He screamed in pain. He wailed like an animal as the knife made its way through his flesh. A lot of blood spurted.

She stood there watching in amazement. It took her some time to realize what just happened. She was relieved and panicked at the same time. She didn't know what to do, so she watched him die. When he stopped writhing, she sighed, walked in to her room, got dressed, wore her blue silk scarf, took her bag, took the knife, wrapped it carefully in her scarf and walked out of her house just like that.

An hour later,

She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf.

The Rain

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 55; the fifty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Rashmi Kumar, the author of Hooked, Lined and Single and Jyoti Arora, the author of Lemon Girl. .

Monsoon by Yann (Wikimedia Commons). Shared with GNU Free Documentation License CC Attribution-Share Alike.

The clouds roared with all their might, lightening lighted up the whole village. Tara left whatever she was doing and ran outside. She loved rain, she always have and never missed a chance of dancing in the rain. These few minutes had the power of washing away all her worries, loneliness and pain. Drenched, she feel rejuvenated and alive.  When she was satisfied, she went inside and changed, made herself some coffee and sat on the window. The musky smell of rain wet soil took her back in time when rain meant loud noises and games. This house was not always as quite as it is now. Tara reminisced about her childhood. In vacations every corner of the house was filled with children running, hiding, screaming. fighting, playing everywhere. Every now and then one passing by could hear a name being screamed in the house. Tara smiled at the thought of how notorious they used to be. They wished the vacations should just  keep going on while their elders wished otherwise. She has always loved the open front porch even as a child. She was always mesmerized by the way these rain drops danced on the floor. She remembered how each of them would go running to the porch for getting wet in the rain. They would scream and dance and soon the kids from neighborhood would join them. It felt like a fair. They would run all over the house collecting old newspapers. Their parents will keep screaming on them but they always gave them a deaf ear. She loved the sight of all those paper boats moving around here and there. As they grew old, the fun became lesser. The childhood was replaced by growing up. The boats and the screams were gone. Giggling replaced laughter. Vacations became shorter and shorter. And before long everything ended. Everyone of their sibling went out for studying and settled in come city or abroad. She did too but she always came back. She loved the house too much to abandon it. They had everything but time. Tara couldn't really remember when was the last time they had met. The house grew quite and lost its charm. After the grandparents death the house went awfully quite. And when her parents passed away the house become haunting. But she dared not leave it. People insisted, relatives insisted but she stayed back. 

She sighed, went back inside, washed her coffee cup and started what she had left doing.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 19. Image Credits: Monsoon by Yann (Wikimedia Commons). Shared with GNU Free Documentation License CC Attribution-Share Alike.

As long as Forever Lasts

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 54; the fifty-fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

“Happy mother’s day dad”

“Anant, mother’s day is for mothers and I am you father.” He tickled his son playfully.

He giggled.

“For me you are both my mom and my dad. So happy mother’s day.” He said seriously.

His eyes filled with tears, he was touched. He took the handmade card and bouquet of flowers.

At night Anant slide in beside him. He kept his work aside and hugged his son.

“Dad will you tell me that story again?” He said with a sheepish grin.

“Again?” He feigned annoyance.

“Yes dad, again.” They both laughed.

“Ok. Your mom and I were in college together but in different classes. We never met each other. One day in the market,  I was walking on the road and a scooty stopped right in between my legs. The lady’s face was covered with the hanky. Only her eyes were visible. Her big beautiful eyes.”

“That was mom, right?”

“Right. She said sorry and I was so lost in her eyes that I didn’t even move for what seemed like eternity. I didn't even realize she was gone until few minutes later. I kept thinking about her. I had no idea about who she was or where she lived. So, in hope of meeting her again I kept roaming around in the same market day after day but never got to see her again. It was our college fest when I saw her again. I recognized her from her eyes. I could never forget those expressive eyes. I never let her go then. I collected all my strength and complimented her on her performance and hence began our friendship. I knew I was love in with her, I knew she liked me but wasn’t sure if she loved me. But still I decided to propose her before it was too late. I asked her out for dinner. I bought flowers and a ring. I went down on my knees, told her I have always loved her and asked her if she would mind being my wife.”

“And what did she say?”

“She said forever my love, forever.”

“And you got married.” He clapped.

“Yes, and now it’s time for you to sleep.”

“Ok dadda, good night.”

“Goodnight son.” He kissed on his forehead, turned off the light and walked out of the room closing the doors behind.

He made himself some coffee and sat on the chair. A hand touched him on shoulders.

“Trisha.”

“Same story again brother?”

He nodded his head.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself? You know it’s not true.”

“I know but I can’t tell him the truth. This makes him happy and for a time being me too. After all these years of telling the same story, it has started sounding true to my own ears. False may be, but this story gives me hope and happiness.”

“As you think apt brother. I am just worried to see you like this. I am going to sleep. You don’t stay up too late.”

He nodded and bid her goodnight.

He took the picture of his wife and him that was sitting on the table. He lovingly moved fingers on her face. Then kept it back, took his coffee and went to terrace. He sat under the sky thinking of the first time he had met her.

He was in the entirely new city, looking for a job. He had rent a room to stay. His neighborhood was full of kids of all ages. He loved spending time with them in the evening, playing cricket and football with them. There was this one girl who sat quietly on the swing in her verandah and never said anything. She would only watch whatever was going on around her. Once while playing a kid kicked the football near her swing and stopped right under her feet. He went to pick the ball. She pulled up her feet to her chest and buried her face in between her knees scared. He was amused. He waited for a moment. She put her head up just enough to look at him. The way she looked at him, the look in her eyes got him spellbound. She looked at him like she was looking right into his soul. For the first time he felt his heart beating loud. It gave him flutters in his stomach. Never in his life had he felt so alive like he did now. He wanted to stay. He wanted to talk. But the calls from his kid friends made him leave reluctantly.

 Later after asking about her he found out that though she was grown up physically, she was still a child mentally. Everyone kept teasing her always; some would even tease her physically. So she always stayed at home, alone. His heart went out to her. He would deliberately throw balls near her just to look in to her big beautiful eyes. Something in the way she looked at him always pulled him to her. He had often felt the smiles in her eyes when he was around. He just couldn’t resist those soft relaxed look. Just her presence made his evenings livelier. He would go through the day dreaming of her eyes.

His job included travelling, sometimes days sometimes months. He often tried to resist his tours but this time he had to take a tour of a month and half. When he returned he didn’t see her for three days. He began getting restless. He tried to ask casually to the kids. They nonchalantly told him that one day she went somewhere and came back with bruises and her clothes torn. They haven’t seen her since. From his landlady’s gossip he came to know that she went off wandering a day after he went on tour. It is being said that she was raped yet no one knew who did, nobody saw anything. Chances are she might even be pregnant. He even heard that her mental condition wasn’t good.  They keep her locked and are planning to move away.

Something inside him broke. He felt restless and desperate. He knew what he wanted to do. He loved her and it’s about time he should make her his. It wasn’t an easy task. His parents were adamantly against it and rightly so. Her parents were skeptical but agreed. He knew his parents would never give in but he was never surer about anything in life than marrying this girl. And that he did. He took care of her like a child until Anant was born.  Her condition started to worsen. She would jump even at the slightest of sound and would calm only in his arms. It started getting bad to worse. She, now, is in hospital where doctors are hopeless about her. He could never get himself to tell this to his son. The story he keeps telling him not only keeps his son happy but also helps him escape the reality even if for a while. He knows his forever is coming to an end sooner than he want it to. Forevers are never really for-ever.

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Forgiven

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 53; the fifty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Soulmates: Love without ownership by Vinit K Bansal. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

courtesy Google images

Her memories of her father were of him being mostly away. She remembered how her father always made the excuse of being tired whenever she asked him to play with her. Her father gave her everything except his time. She remembers how her father always brought her chocolates. She hated her father and she hated chocolates.

For everyone else around her “growing up was a trap”, but for her “growing up was a relief”- relief that she doesn't have to see her father again. The fact that her every friend adored their father made her angrier. They would tell stories of their happy memories with their father and that would make her realize what she missed or she never had.

On her every birthday she would find a box of chocolates lying on the doorstep, each one different and expensive than before. She knew who keep them there year after year, her father.  Without even a second thought she always threw them away mumbling something about her father trying to lure her with expensive gifts. What she never noticed was that those expensive gifts were only chocolates.

One day her mother called her. She was only too happy to talk to her. Her mother was the only person she was close to. She loved her deeply.

“Hello mom.”

“Kate, how are you.”

“I am fine mom, but you sound distressed. Is everything alright?”

“No Kate. That’s what I have called you for.”

“What happened mom?”

Now even she was worried. The mere thought that something might have happened to her mom scared her to the soul.

“Kate, your father is suffering from cancer. He might not make it for long.”

She was stunned. She had never thought something like this might happen. But after a fraction of second she thought that it must be his father’s ploy to get her talk to him again. He had been trying for so long but nothing worked, so maybe he worked this out. She was in fact sure that this is the case. She was even angrier with her father for being so thoughtless about her mother. She was shaken thinking how her mother have been feeling now. She kept the thoughts to herself and didn't mouth it to her mother.

“Kate, you are there?”

“Yes mom. I am sorry to hear that.”

“I want you to talk to your father at least once. I want you to forgive him baby.”

“I will call him when I have time.”

“Thank you darling. I love you so much.”

“I love you too mom.”

She never called her father.

Days passed, weeks turned in to months. Her mother called her again, begging her to see her father one last time. She couldn't say no.  She reached the hospital where her father was admitted. She was shocked on what she saw. She had always remembered her father tall, strong and handsome.  The man on the bed was way to smaller and weaker. His face was wrinkled and his eyes were sunken. It was the way her mother was caring for the man that made her sure he was her father. His eyes gleamed when he saw her standing at the door. She felt guilty. She saw her father whispering something to her mother’s ear and then everyone left the room. She was alone with the man she hadn't seen and talked with for over a decade, the man she forgot was her father. He signaled her to come near. She obliged.

“Kate”, he whispered, “I was hoping you would come. I have so much to say to you.”  She saw his eyes were wet. “You know the day you were born I was the happiest man in the world. When I held you for the first time in my arms I was born again, as a father. I still remember that beautiful tiny face of yours. You looked at me with those shiny happy eyes and I knew that’s how I want to see your eyes- always gleaming with happiness. I gave you my every second I could. Whenever I was at home I let your mother have you only when you were to be fed. I always held you in my arms. I used to get thrilled each time you wrapped your tiny palm around my finger. We had nothing much but we felt like king and queen because we had you. You have always been my princess.” 

 He looked at her with those sunken teary eyes and something inside her shook.  “It was your third birthday. As usual we got you everything we could. We took you out and your eyes fell on a box of chocolate in the hands of one of your friends. You wanted it. We had no means to get you that box of chocolate or any other chocolate. They came pretty expensive then and I had a limited salary. You cried very hard. You kept crying all day and it killed me. I was ashamed of myself that I could not fulfill your one simple desire. I wondered how I was going to fulfill your other dreams and the dreams we had for you. Until that day I was content with my job and whatever I earned. You mother never complained and she ran the household efficiently with whatever I gave her. But that one box of chocolate made me realize it was not enough. I had to work hard, and I did. " 

Tears ran down her eyes, regret tore her soul apart. “Kate, I loved you then and I love you now. You are a part of me. I did not play with you, yes, but that doesn’t mean I never gave you my time. Before everything I did, every step I took there was only one thing I thought of, YOU. While you slept I sat beside you watching you dream. You would smile sometimes and I would wonder what are you dreaming of. You were always in my heart and on my mind before anything else.  It’s just that I never got to tell you. You are a part of my soul; I thought you would understand once you grow up. But we just grew apart. I am glad you came, else I would have died without letting you know how much I have loved you.”

She cried, hugged her father tight burying her face on his chest. She felt light now that all her hatred was washed away with her father’s love. She felt her father’s arm taking her in and she snuggled close wanting to feel the warmth she had missed in all these years. She felt her father’s arm slugging and slipping away. Her heart stopped. He died. She looked at his quite demeanor.  Her life flashed in front of her eyes. She cried hard. In one moment she found her father and lost him too.

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