20th July

One of the books Priyasha bought from the fair was something she didn't expect she'd find there.

Books had always been a way to slip away from the turmoil of reality to somewhere that wouldn't attempt to break her. As far as her love for books was concerned, she'd inherited that by watching her father, Kaushik.

Kaushik's taste in books was always a little unconventional. He used to read books related to philosophy, psychology or nonfiction. When Priyasha was in her early teens, he had gifted her the very first book, Who Will Cry When You Die? by the talented author Robin Sharma, which certainly was an odd choice for any thirteen or fourteen years old, but she enjoyed reading the book, as well applied some of its lessons in her own life. In one of its chapters titled 'See Your Troubles as Blessings' he had quoted Rainer Maria Rilke, "...have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves ... Perhaps you'll gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day." To which she'd clung with the remnants of her belief after her nightmare took place.

Not only that, after reading the book itself, she had developed the habit of reading books. Kaushik's influence also had worked behind that.

Besides, her emotional state was a mess that wouldn't have allowed her to participate in any social life at that certain phase of her life. The years that could have been the best years of her life, became the worst that she had to cower away from meeting new people and make acquaintances. All she did during those days was sitting in a corner of her room, hours after hours, reading a lot of books or learning new skills from the internet. That's how it went on until she received the offer letter from DevonBolt.

One of the books she'd bought from the fair was Bhagavad Gita as it is. Reading through it she had to pause at a certain page which was one of the core messages from the holy book.

The Blessed Lord said: O Partha, when a man gives up all varieties of sense desire which arise from mental concoction, and when his mind finds satisfaction in the self alone, then he is said to be in pure transcendental consciousness. (BG as it is 2.55)

One who is not disturbed in spite of the threefold miseries, who is not elated when there is happiness, and who is free from attachment, fear and anger, is called a sage of steady mind. (BG as it is 2.56)

After reading which, her eyes welled up unable to hold back anymore. Teardrops fell freely as she remembered her humiliation of last night. She forced herself to turn away her focus. But failing awfully, her mind darted toward him repeatedly.

A stranger freaking slapped her.

And worse, Abhiraj kissed her, without her consent.

Not that there was any reason for her to give consent. But it happened so absurdly. Moreover, he didn't even explain shit to her. Why did he do that? Why would he do that?

After their argument at the parking lot, she had to run away from him. She couldn't stand it. It was already miserable for her to live with a frightful past, and perhaps her future as well. In addition to that, Abhiraj Roy showed up to ruin her present.

Last night when she ran away, Abhiraj didn't chase her immediately. But undoubtedly, he had been following from a distance. Apart from the main road of Newtown area, most of the roads that led to further inside the residential region, remained deserted after eight in the evening. So, it saved her the embarrassment due to the freely falling tears from public exposure.

She had run along the street all the way down till her legs gave out and she stood, shivering, exhausted, broken, head hung low, hands covering her face trying desperately to stop her tears. That was when Abhiraj appeared from behind her.

It didn't bother her anymore to shed tears in front of him. Because she knew. She knew he didn't value any of them and which was enough for her to flare up the hatred toward him.

When Abhiraj cleared his throat prompting a conversation with her, a part of her wanted to cry louder, maybe even smack his face again, but she didn't. Instead, she quietly said, "We aren't good, Abhiraj. Don't bother asking."

He refrained himself from talking thereafter.

Since then, he hadn't spoken to her and she was actually relieved for that.

She felt so helpless that even after all of it, she still had to come and live in the same apartment as him. Because she didn't have any place to go, and worse, she couldn't even tell this to anyone. What would she tell anyway? She was tenderly kissed by a man because he was proving something to his fiancé. Did that even make any sense?

It was today morning when Neha called to inform that she found a convenient job for her. Priyasha neither felt happy nor sad about the news. Should she? Considering the awful situation, she was stuck in? However, she agreed on the telephonic interview. It was necessary for the job obviously. Fortunately, the company was providing accommodation too. As crazy and impossibly favorable as it sounds, it had solved half of her difficulties.

Later the same night, Vikash called her which was actually beyond her expectations. She could never hope for a call from Vikash after the way he talked to her last time. Hence, when he called, Priyasha predicted bad news.

Vikash certainly had bad news for her, not one but two. He informed her about the gradually worsening health of Kaushik, and that later this week he would go through the operation, thereafter the course of EBR therapy. Doctors wanted to do all the procedures without delay, otherwise it might start to expand.

Understanding the severity, Priyasha assured him the monetary support, which he denied of course and warned her instead. Her heart wavered for a moment learning the disastrous news. The burden of the current situation was already burning her inside out. But, now that the news revealed, it affected her mind, and its fear.

The reason of her nightmare might return soon, and this news made her blood run cold.

Sometime in past

His hand came crashing down, making a stinging contact with her cheek while she was randomly hitting him with her free hand, trying to free herself from his grasp. As soon as the slap landed, she trembled in fear, losing her stability on the ground. She stumbled back and the cruel person decided that exact moment to let go of her caught hand. She toppled backwards and fell down on the ground of the empty club room and hit her bottom hard. He laughed out loud hideously. Priyasha cowered away and whined, "Please let me go. I should reach home by now."

He strode toward the open window at his left and said, "You must have been present at home at this time of night. You should not roam around the streets alone during night. Why were you outside?" He asked, trying to feign his concern, but it appeared even more intimidating.

She stammered, "I- we had a party- freshers party at college."

He closed the window and turned around. "Aahaan, a party, must be a lot of boys in there! Did you make friends? Boyfriend?"

She felt sick. Her dress was torn at places a long ago while he dragged her into this godforsaken place forcefully. Suddenly the room became colder and she shivered predicting something gruesome that was about to happen. She had lost her bag on the way here and the phone inside it. No one would know or even expect her to be here. She was doomed and would be ruined soon. Her inside quivered apprehending her ill-fate.

"If you haven't, I'm here for you. Right?" He said pacing back and forth in front of her. "What should I call you sweetheart? Mmm, let me think ... Bubbles? Yes... she's my favorite cartoon character and you're my favorite too. Then I must call you Bubbles. Right, Bubbles?" He stopped in his tracks right in front of her and looked down. A dirty smirk crossed his face, making his scar look more stretched and intimidating.

Her stomach dropped watching the devil. She lowered her eyes and mumbled, "Please let me go. We-we can talk later, when you're- when you're more sober." She knew he was drunk. She had a whip of alcoholic scent when he held her closer to his filthy body.

He took a step toward her and paused. "Talk?" He laughed. "You never have talked to me, Bubbles, never once. For all these years, all I wanted you to talk to me. But you never did. So, talking... no, we won't be doing any talking if I let you go tonight. I know that." He paused then hunched down. "Have you ever liked me? Including my scar? My longing toward you? Have you ever? No! You only thought about my reputation. Of course, I'm no good, I accept that. But did you ever consider talking me out of this mess? No!"

She looked up at him. "What are you talking about? How could I have possibly known what's inside your mind?" She mumbled, "Then, there's your gang. They don't look very friendly, and neither do You. All I could think of you is, a bunch of mean, violent people who are threats to society. Because that is the truth. That's what you are."

"Yes!" He yelled out. "Yes, that's what I am. A reckless bastard. That's what I was supposed to be. Since the beginning, Vishwa trained me to be a machine made of flesh and blood. I also had some wish. I also wanted to live a life as I want. But no fucking one gave me a chance. But," he paused, then turned toward her. "You could have. I was ready to do anything for you. But all you gave me was hatred." His eyes narrowed as he said that.

She watched him in horror. What was he saying? What did he mean by that?

He continued, "You avoided me in every way possible and- and," He sucked in a difficult breath. "You even slapped me in front of my friends and flew to the police station to lodge a complaint against me. How could you do that? I am the most feared person in this area...and you..." he trailed off.

"What did you expect me to do then? You were stalking me around like crazy... you even hurt me. It wasn't a kiss... it was torture. A filthy torture only a crazy criminal like you can commit." She found her voice rising with each passing moment. The courage she had feared she had lost, was still somewhere inside her.

He sighed. "Criminal, yes, that I am certainly. But crazy..." He looked down at her intently, "You may call me crazy, Bubbles. Yes, I am crazy, but crazy in love with you. A love that justifies my name. Call me by my name, Priyasha. Say my name."

When she didn't respond to him, his appearance turned evil again. The side of him everyone feared, it emerged as quickly as it had disappeared.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

He slowly rounded her. "Believe me, you left me no other choice. I know, you'll never agree marrying me, but I have wanted you since I first saw you. You're my obsession. I can do anything for you." He put down his loaded gun on the carrom board, the property of the club, his club. "Anything. Even," He slowly started unbuttoning his shirt, her eyes went wide by his action. She trembled and dragged herself back from him. "I can kill anyone who'll ever lay hands on you... even a single touch isn't allowed."

"No!" She watched him shrug off the shirt as his vest came into view, hugging his muscled chest. He put down the shirt and folded his arms, eyes focused on her.

"What do you want?" She felt the cold wall behind her back. She had hit the dead end of the room. Which meant, there was no way back now, no space left to hide from him.

He tsked, shaking his head slowly. "I just want you. I want to make you mine. That's all I want, really. Since the very first day I laid eyes on you, I have wanted you and today, I have decided to make you mine. If not emotionally, then physically, and every way possible. I'll carve my claim on you, everywhere on your skin and guess what, I have a favorite spot too."

She shook her head violently. "No! No... stay away from me. Please don't do this to me. Please, please let me go!"

He proceeded toward her in a slow pace. "Let you go? Mmm... on one condition."

She watched him in horror, unable to understand what exactly was his condition.

He stopped two feet away from her and sneered, "I want to hear my name from your pretty little mouth, which I already have made mine. Say my name, Priyasha."

The front of her dress was soaking due to her never-ending tears. She cowered away but there was no space left. She closed her eyes and wished hopelessly for the wall to absorb her in it. But when she opened her eyes again, everything was same as before.

"Say my name Priyasha, I don't have all the night. I would have loved to spend the whole night with you, but they'll come looking for you soon and... well, leave that. C'mon, say my name."

She dragged her knees close to her chest and shuddered under his sadistic intention.

Eventually, he lost his collected temper, and finally broke the silence of the room by yelling the words, "Priyasha, what's my name?"

That's how she forced the most hateful word in her life out of her mouth. It twisted her stomach in spite because it'd remind her of her nightmare for a long time to come. "Romeo!"

~~~

Priyasha gasped awake in the middle of the night. Her hair matted on her forehead and her nightdress clung to her torso, both due to excessive sweating. She continuously panted remembering the cursed night. Gulping, she realized her throat had gone dry. Her left bosom ached. Would the ache ever leave? Reaching for the water bottle, Priyasha winced remembering it one more time.

The words rang in her ears. You'll always be mine.

The bottle was empty. She sighed and dragged herself out of the bed and went to the kitchen. It was fifteen minutes past three. Abhiraj must be asleep right now. She suddenly felt suffocated. Was she fooling herself by expecting a better life? Was it even possible? She felt the urge of needing fresh air. Although it was a scarcity of fresh air in this season of the monsoon, she decided to go to the terrace.

As she walked upstairs, the thought dawned on her.

Obsession is the cruelest form of emotion. When you're obsessed with someone, you don't care about their feelings at all. All you think is about your needs and your desires. Obsession can ultimately ruin your life. In a way obsession is actually a replica of madness toward the materialistic needs. Most people suffer from the madness of obsession because their minds are stolen by illusions. If a person feels a strong attachment toward another person, all their mind is focused only on how to achieve possession over them. It's like they want to own them instead of loving them. They don't care about the consequences. Materialistic energy is intense. That's why humans are always and only focused on working and achieving the materialistic possession. Almost all of us tend to deprive the most important possession that we already have. Our souls.

The air outside felt even more humid and immobile. As soon as she entered the terrace, she noticed the halogen was already lit. The beautiful fragrance hit her nostrils, which for some reason smelled less appealing today. It could be the absence of Jai. The plants were missing him as much as she was. She went to the edge of the terrace and leaned onto it looking far off. The deserted local park was giving out a melancholic vibe. She hugged herself close but immediately got startled by a sudden ruffling sound. She spun around quickly and located Abhiraj at the far end corner of the terrace. He hadn't yet noticed her and was intently shuffling through the stuffs inside a packing box.

A lot of unsaid feelings and explanations hung in the air mutual to them. She felt an insane urge to demand the answers from him right away. It wasn't any more about the choices she had. It was now her need to know everything that involved him and his absurd actions. It was about the difficult and questionable thoughts she was developing for him, and it didn't feel normal. In fact, it was frightening her.

Finally, he closed the lid of the box and stood up. Turning around, he stopped dead noticing her presence. She watched him curiously as his cautious gaze settled on her. What was wrong? Why was he looking... nervous?

He took a quick glance at the box then walked toward her in slow and collected strides. But his body language was telling some other story. His shoulders were tensed, and he looked like he was going through a state of unrest. Stopping a foot away from her, he focused on her fully.

She eyed him, tight-lipped as both of them fell in a burdensome silence. Their eyes locked. She wouldn't lie, his eyes were the most dangerous weapon he had. Those night-sky-like-eyes and their sharp stare. She would never understand how the hell did she find galaxies in them. They take her breath away every time they focused their entire attention on her. He held her gaze for a few seconds before turning to the other side and gazed at the opening, far off. She looked past him and glanced at the packing box.

He must have noticed that and explained himself quickly than it was actually needed. "Some old stuff, I don't need anymore."

She didn't say anything in return, instead resumed her position and hugged herself. The weather had started getting chilly. It might be raining somewhere as a burst of cold wind blew past.

"What are you doing up here?"

"Something similar as you." She knew he was staring at her but she didn't show any disapproval. Terrible it was to confess, and she'd hate herself to eternity to confess the same, but she actually relished the way he looked at her. No one had ever looked at her like that.

He sighed audibly. "Look, I- I have things to tell you, but I don't know how to start. And then, you're never in a good mood or we end up in a mess every time." He scowled. "How am I supposed to explain everything to you?"

"Even if you do, will it make any difference?" She calmly asked.

"Certainly. Yes," he firmly answered.

She looked at him. He wasn't lying, his eyes couldn't lie.

~~~

With some people, you find it impossible to ignore the connection. Your intuition will keep poking you until you focus your attention on the obvious truth. In fact, in every step you take in your life, your intuition genuinely wants you to see between the lines.

When you meet a certain someone and all the positive warmth starts flowing between you two, then you shouldn't entirely give in to the black cloak of doubt and uncertainty. Despite that same person being deceptive towards you, if you feel unafraid to confront their deception, then your intuition isn't betraying you. But to the contrary, your intuition is asking you to take the risk.

These kinds of people, however, are is very rare. They might give you world at times, but can leave you torn apart at others. If that person wide opens your old scars while you can sense future potential in them, you must get prepared. You are about to fall in a deep trouble. Because, once they sense your truest feelings toward them, they won't possibly settle down for someone else. These people are known as old souls, and they truly know how not to ever give up on their loved ones.

~~~

"Then, you have my time until it snatches me away."

His eyes focused on her. He was visibly struggling to pinpoint the start of the conversation.

They were stuck in an uncomfortable silence but it never dwindled their willingness to stay eye to eye. It was awkward and frustrating but erupted an unusual tranquility between them. They stood there holding each other's gaze for a few seconds until she exhaled, averted her gaze and said, "I want you to do one thing."

He didn't respond, and she figured it symbolized his consent.

"Vrinda Aunty needs to know the truth." She looked at the direction of the nursery. "And I want you to do it. Not Jai, not Aslam, not anyone but you. Do you agree?" She shifted her attention on him. His intense stare looked unnerving and yearning at the same time. It was complicated. Something... that might make her forgive him.

He ran a hand through his hair which was already messy and said, "All you want from me is that? No explanations?"

"I want all of it, but first I want you to take this one responsibility by yourself."

"That'd be done." He looked down burying his hands in the pockets, his pale green t-shirt was hugging his torso and she found it difficult to look at him for longer. She turned her head toward the opening, overlooking the locality.

"I want answers."

"I know. Ask me." He started pacing along the edges, away from her.

"Why are you involved with Permabell? Why did you let them go through the torture if they were actually working for you? Why did you break up with Zinnia because of... me?" It sounded awful to her own ears, but she stopped herself from losing her composure this time and asked him one last question after a small pause, "Why did you kiss me?"

He stopped moving for a second at her last question, then turned around and walked back, more slowly. "Only these? I thought you have a list of questions."

She glared at him and saw him smirking. "I have. I'm saving them for later."

"Really? How much time do we have then?"

She frowned. She might be moving to Hyderabad next week. But he didn't know that. Did he?

"I-" she cleared her throat. "We have tonight. Utilize this night first." And instantly regretted her awful choice of words.

"Okay, as you wish." He shrugged, then stopped a foot away from her leaning on the edge against his back. "For the first question, I told you beforehand, someone had to do it. Now, for the second question, I'll answer that tomorrow."

She scrunched together her eyebrows. "What's special in tomorrow?"

"You'll know. And Zinnia, well she is- was my fiancé. It was, in fact, a business deal. Her father's a rival to Permabell and as far as I was concerned that time, I wanted to save Permabell anyhow. Zinnia likes me since then and her father wanted to see his daughter happy at any cost. I didn't think much because it was my least priority. Her father's proposal seemed convenient, so I accepted that. Now... things are different." He watched her closely.

She felt self-conscious suddenly. The piercing-look in his eyes can literally kill her. Not literally... but metaphorically? Definitely.

"I had already decided to tell her about it, and the dinner plan was actually a plan I made for the revelation. But things afterwards turned out ugly. Women's ego is dangerous when it comes to their love and family. Don't they just go by, 'everything's fair in love and war'?" he chuckled lightly.

She scoffed. "Awful joke."

He held up both of his hands. "Apologies. I agree, I'm bad at making jokes. I just wanted to make you laugh."

"You aren't succeeding and this isn't helping."

He frowned and went back to being normal from his terrible animated self.

She stopped her urge to smile as he did so before saying, "Don't pretend what you are not, that makes the situation even worse."

"I'll remember that and be more careful with you," he muttered quietly.

She nodded, then fixed her stare at him, he was looking at the ground.

She prompted again. "And?"

He didn't look up, but said quietly, "I had to do that, so that she'd get the indication."

"And which is what?" She whisper-asked, half wanting, half fearing the revelation.

"Priyasha!" He suddenly straightened up startling her. "We'll talk tomorrow." And by saying that he was gone. She stood there dumbstruck and continued watching his back long after he was gone. She wanted to scream at him for not completely answering her questions. He's pathetic. She cursed him mentally with some colorful words until her eyes landed on the packing-box he was dealing with a few minutes back.

She bit her lower lip considering the possibilities. She glanced at the exit then back at the packing box. Curiosity coiled inside her and after weighing her choices, she settled for it.

Her inside fired up the inquisitiveness she had long subdued. Although, she knew he'd probably dislike the idea of her touching his belongings, it'd give her some light nonetheless. It might also bring up something he was hiding. There were many chances of her getting answers. She pondered on the consequences then glanced at the exit one more time. He wouldn't be coming back anytime soon. Would he? No. One of the corners of her mouth curled up as she strode toward the box. It was an ordinary wooden packing box, those kinds that come with wholesale fruits or kitchen tools. She sat down before it on her knees and carefully opened the lid.

She didn't expect then, her curiosity would unfold an unexpected, untold, painful story.

She found some old ruined photographs, mostly destroyed by rain water and scorching heat, some rolled up paper rolls- ruined, pile of old newspapers that had gotten hard sticking with each other, and a one-eyed teddy bear- torn at several places. A leather purse, that was still in fair condition, a zipped medical file and a small diary, whose scripts were mostly gone. She opened the file first and found some x-ray reports, hospital bills and doctor's prescriptions. The ink was mostly gone, yet fortunately she found the patient's name. Kirti Roy. She tried one more time scanning through the pages to find out... she had leukemia. Her heart skipped a beat. Was it his mother? His mother died of leukemia? She picked up the leather purse and opened it, a rusty and blackened silver chain, a then-fancy, broken but framed mirror and a photograph, that was still recognizable was inside it. The photograph was of a boy chasing after his mother. Priyasha brought the photograph closer to her eyes. She was laughing, and she was very beautiful. The mother was wearing a pink lehenga and his son was holding its dupatta in his hand and he looked so happy. Priyasha sat down folding her legs and set that aside. A postcard torn in four pieces was too inside the purse. It looked comparatively new. She placed them side by side and read. It didn't hold the writer's name.

But it read only one line,

Abhi,

I need your assistance. Come back.

Your Father

Priyasha sat back surprised. What kind of father write a one liner letter to his son? He could have just called him instead. And there wasn't any explanation for which he needed his son's assistance. Did it run down the bloodline? She scoffed. Priyasha put them back inside the purse, then went for the diary.

His diary. Because the very first page held his name, though the ink was mostly smudged, but due to the giant childish fonts it was still recognizable. She turned the pages. Mostly ruined, and the ink was smudged due to sun and water. But she stopped at a page that was still readable.

Date: 22nd July

Maa, where are you? I thought you'd be the first person to wish me on my 9th birthday. I am alone here. Father has sent me here. I don't like it here, no one loves me. All of them tease me and take away my things from me. They sometimes beat me. Maa, I don't want to be here. Please take me home.

Your Abhiraj.

She frowned; he was at an orphanage, at nine? Even though his father was out there? She turned over the pages again until a readable page appeared.

Date: 10th August

Maa, Jitu pushed me from back and I fell over stone chips. I cut my elbow because of that. There was so much blood. I was afraid. Sister Maria washed it. It's still hurting. But you never came back.

Oh, it's hurting too much. I can't write more.

Abhiraj.

Priyasha felt her throat ache. What the hell? Why was he at an orphanage even though he had a father? She knew exactly what it was like to be in an orphanage and she was lucky enough to have her foster parents with her. No one deserved the hatred orphanage kids face. Perhaps there are still some good organizations that looked after the kids well, but the ratio is very less. She still remembered some of the horrible memories from her orphanage, and she'd like it very much to forget each of them. She turned over the pages sighing in despondence.

Date: 23rd October

Maa, today there was a fight, between me and Jitu. I hit him and broke his left arm. Sister Maria slapped me but I don't care.

Abhi.

Priyasha winced at that and continued till the last.

Date: 31st December

Maa, I told you to come and take me home. But you never came. You've forgotten me. Fine, I'll forget you too.

Roy.

He was a lonely kid and became furious and dangerous over time. Her eyes burned suddenly. She didn't realize when had tears gathered there and they rolled down her cheeks. What the hell was wrong with her? Tears. That too for someone as deceiving as Abhiraj. That was so unlikely her.

This man had been suffering alone all his childhood and teenage years and as time went by, his frustration turned into cold-heartedness. He became the emotionless businessman who dealt with dangerous people. She needed to stop it. But, why would she?

Because, someone has to.

She winced internally, quoting him.

She knew what pain did to people. It changed people. She had changed. She had suffered and she couldn't let others suffer for someone else's inexpressible pain.

She took the photograph of him as a child with his mother and put all the other stuff inside the box. Then she stood up, glanced down one more time at the box, and mumbled, "Because, someone has to."

As she proceeded toward the exit, it was almost the break of dawn. A new day. A new hope.