Years passed on and Jyoti experienced in firsthand what parenthood was really like. Vrindavani gave birth to a healthy mature boy; they named him Joy as his birth gave them immense joy. But what Vrinda and Jyoti did not realize was the fact that they were going to be trapped into a cruel game of destiny and fate. Jyotirmoy and Vrindavani worked round the clock in their respective offices to get Joy the best of everything, thus sacrificing things for themselves as well. Jyotirmoy was beginning to comprehend, rather decode what his parents went through as the years passed on.
After all, life itself on this planet is the result of overcoming innumerable obstacles and initial bumps and look where we are now. A reader can help shape and mold a writer's future, or better, a reader can help "write" a brighter future for a writer.
“How much does this assault rifle cost?” “Well, we're having a heavy discount this season. Only one-third of your soul and a half of your conscience and you're ready to go.”
Shramana broke down into uncontrollable tears, and did not stop no matter how much Arijit told her to. From the looks of it, she definitely was going through a breakdown. That is when little Nirbhay got down from his chair and hugged his mother. Surprisingly enough, Shramana consoled herself restricting her tears as much as she could. It was no surprise that Sarla, Shramana’s mother did not survive the accident and Shramana attributed herself for the death of her mother.
“No”, was all she could reply. She could not think of anything else than this, dancing to the folklore has been her passion and everything in her life till this date meant this thing. Be it risky as it was, but she was clearly against transition. For her, the nascent had no meaning. Bhagyashree therefore knowingly kicked the opportunity away. In addition, who would look after her mother when she was gone?
They were almost on the verge of completing six months of living together coupled with being in a relationship and on one such fateful night, she was en-route to her mother’s place when halfway through her journey she realized, she’d forgotten an important gift she purchased for her mother weeks ago. On reaching the apartment where they both resided, she found it was locked from the inside. Margaret called an umpteen number of times before her knock took the form of banging, suddenly the door swung open and there ‘her Ben’ stood, stark naked with a particular dominatrix at his feet begging for mercy. Clad in the symbolic latex, she was badly bleeding from her nose and mouth, terrified of the suddenness of events.
Margaret gasped putting her right hand on her mouth and looked at Ben, ‘her Ben’.
I blame destiny for bringing us together, I blame fate for making our paths cross, I blame providence for it did not keep me ready with any contingency plan. You left me, I had no other choice but to forget your existence and time is a great ally to have in times like these. I was flanked from all sides by you, not by any of your skills or good looks or anything that people get attracted to you by. I was flanked by the whole of ‘you’; caught off guard.