Weird and Wonderful

Chapter 1

So this was the book I wrote five years ago and self-published without being aware that just because I could daydream about all crazy scenarios, it doesn't mean I'm a good writer. I still am not a good writer, but at least I know it now ☺️ So this book is deeply flawed but it's just like the first crush for me because I dreamed of writing this one when I was seventeen. So please let me know if I should post rest of the chapters or save you all the trouble of reading this not so well written book?

Present Year

It was 7 p.m. when Swasti returned to her room from college. The darkness inside her room was a stark contrast from the beautiful red sky outside adorned with majestic golden streaks. Swasti switched on the light which imparted a fake brightness to the dark room. Man-made technology, even at its zenith, can never attain the glory of nature- it was a truth that she had learnt from her experience of twenty-five years in this world.

Swasti was an Assistant Professor of Physics at a private engineering college in Ghaziabad. Her pay package, though not hefty, was decent enough to pay her bills. It was a small room with an attached kitchen and washroom. The cream-coloured walls were bare, with not even a single photograph on them. The room was unorganized with novels and unwashed clothes lying on the bed. Swasti threw her bag on the couch and slumped at the edge of the bed. It was a hectic day at college, not because of workload, but because of some over smart students who considered it their sacred duty to test the knowledge of their teacher by asking her questions out of context. But Swasti had nothing to worry about it. She knew that no one could beat her in Physics so easily. What bothered her was the attitude of the students. If they were curious about the subject, she would be very glad to solve their queries. But the fact that they wanted to test her knowledge and later make fun of her was a bit unsettling for her. To distract her mind, she switched on the television. But when she saw that face on the television screen, her hands quickly reached the remote to change the channel.

She heard the host say, “Sir, please…it’s your fans’ request. Please sing a song for them.”

“These fools have nothing else to do,” she mumbled, with her hands on the TV remote.

Like sand slipping through fingers
Your memories are fading away
I am lost in the dark forest of sorrows
Witnessing my feelings decay
Swasti clutched the remote. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. It could not be happening…It was not possible. The song was still not over.
But I can’t let my love die
However dark may be the life’s sky
I’ll always hold on to your memories
Forever, forever, forever

Swasti was perplexed. It was the same song listening to which Swasti’s heart fluttered during her teenage years. Undoubtedly, it was the Memories. No, she would not let herself be destroyed again. She was grown-up now. She could control herself. She would live a perfectly normal life. Just then her cell phone started ringing. Irritated, she threw her cell phone on the floor. She was pacing frantically across her room. Why he chose to sing Swasti’s favourite song? Why did he…? Was he…? No, that was impossible. She was just making up things in her mind. Swasti tried to console herself but the things which were happening were not normal. She should do something about it. There is an old saying that when your fear starts killing you, confront it. So with trembling hands, she typed an E-mail to Saarthak Sharma.

Saarthak was tired after the talk show but he was happy. He sang for his fans for the first time. He loved to bring smile on his fans’ faces who loved him so much. He used to get advice that a famous writer like him should have some attitude. He should keep some distance from his fans. But what was the point of being famous if one couldn’t relieve people from their stress and sorrow for a little time? It was said that he was too friendly to be a celebrity. But he never paid attention to these things. After a long time, he felt joy playing in his heart like a fearless child. But he had the right to feel so. After all, he sang his childhood favourite song. He was surprised that he still remembered the lyrics. It was the song which gave him joy during the dark times; still he had never listened to it again in his adult life. But that evening when his fans requested him to sing, the only song that came to his mind was the Memories.

As he entered his mansion, a deep voice echoed in the hall, “How are you, Saarthak?”

“Me…I…I am all r-right, Papa”, Saarthak said. He fixed his eyes on the floor as a tall, imposing person who was his father, stood before him. Saarthak had inherited his height from him, but his features were completely opposite to that of his father. He was a lean man of twenty-five. His had a face that could make a girl fumble and blush. But the most striking feature were his moss-green eyes.

“You still stammer in front of me,” Saarthak’s father said, stroking his hand on his hair, “You know. I am so proud of you.” Saarthak looked at his father. These were the words that he was longing to hear since his childhood but now, when his father finally spoke them, he felt like he was being hit with a belt again.

Swasti called her mother. Thankfully, the cell phone was not broken.

“Hello, Mummy?”

“Swasti. How are you? I was waiting for your call. Were you busy?”

“Mummy, I have sent an E-mail to Saarthak Sharma.”

A long pause followed.  Then Swasti heard her mother’s voice, “Swasti, this is crazy. You know it is not truth. You still want to go through all that again.”

“I’ll suffer more if I don’t know what the truth is. Please, Mummy. Let me do it this time,” Swasti said in a determined voice.

“OK. But remember that I and Papa love you more than anything in this world. We can’t see you suffer like that again.”

“Bye, Mummy and sorry.”

After dining with his father, Saarthak came back to his room. He closed the door. He lay on his king-sized bed with lights on. Still he knew that this could not save him from the ghosts of his past. After an hour, Saarthak realized that someone was choking him. Although he knew that it was just a hallucination, still he was not able to breathe. He tried to calm himself but all his efforts were futile. His trembling hands clutched the bed sheet. His screams were sufficient to wake everyone inside the house if his room was not soundproof. “Leave me alone. Don’t do it again,” he was screaming. This was the routine of every night. He didn’t know when sleep fairy came to relieve him from his misery.

When Saarthak woke up, he was grateful to see 6:00 am on the clock. He thanked god for each morning because he never knew when he would end up slitting his wrist or hanging himself at night. Each night revealed a new horror to him. He thought that the sun and daylight were the best creations of god until his secretary phoned him to say, “We have received a new mail, Sir. I think you should see it.”

The anime song I imagined would be like this: