Unfated

Chapter 2

Hello, my lovelies! Hope you're liking the intro. Here's a clue regarding my narrative technique.

1) Only the protagonist's (Naina's) P-O-V would be written in the first person.
2) While describing other characters, I will use the third person observational P-O-V in ITALICS.

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The water droplets ran down the bare body of Rudra, washing off the stains of blood lacing his skin.

3 people in last five days. Nowadays, he has stopped counting days. He barely remembers the dates and days, if not for the phone in his pocket.

It has been 5 days out of home. Night, Morning, Afternoon.... he was needed at any time, anywhere. After all, he was the right hand of MLA Vikrant Manchandani and the elections were just few weeks away.

Manchandani needs to win. He has to. And Rudra had promised him the same. For that, he will do anything that he needs to; no matter ethical or unethical.

Patting himself dry, Rudra wrapped the towel around his waste.

He got out of the newly re-constructed bathroom of his 2 room+kitchen house.

His mother had kept the fresh clothes on his bed, eventhough she avoided talking to her only soon.

Rudra smiled.

He put on the shirt and trousers, looking at the cracked mirror placed on the wall.

The mirror needs to be fixed. His mother never tells him about her needs. She never did.

Running his fingers on his damp hair, Rudra made his way to the kitchen to see the only person that mattered to him in the whole world.

'Amma!' he called, a childish strain in his naturally deep voice.

Vaidehi was busy chopping the carrots that Veena had brought from the market this morning. No matter how angry she was, she never failed to prepare her son's favourite Khichdi, every time he is home.

'Amma! Still angry?' Rudra hugged his mother from behind.

'Leave me Rudra. I don't want to talk to you.' she said, getting out of his grip and walking off to find the spices.

'Hmm....' Rudra lifted the lid of the pan. 'Is that moong dal? Smells awesome...' he sniffed the aroma.

Vaidehi found the ginger and chillies and returned to the kitchen counter.

'You're making Khichdi for me, aren't you, Amma?' Rudra asked, smiling.

Vaidehi decided to hold her anger and face her son. 'How long, Rudra? How long shall this continue?' she burst on her son.

Rudra looked away, avoiding the gaze of his mother.

'Amma, I told you before and I'm telling you again.' His voice lowered. 'I have my reason to do what I'm doing.'

'And what will that do to us, Rudra?' Vaidehi held her son's arms.

Rudra looked at the teary eyes of his beloved mother. He has seen these tears a lot. Right from his childhood, those eyes have felt nothing but the warm tears. Tears of neglect, tears of pain, tears of dejection, tears of poverty, tears of humiliation and what not.

He wanted to wipe every tear off her eyes.

Rudra lifted his hands and wiped his mother's eyes with his fingers.

'Amma, you know I can't see tears in your eyes.' he said.

Vaidehi looked down sobbing. 'If you don't want me to cry, why don't you stop this Rudra? I can stand my son being like this. My son Rudra cannot be a terror to the society. He cannot take lives. He cannot be the person whose photo hung at every police station.' Vaidehi said looking down.

Rudra could feel his mother's pain.

'Amma...Amma...look at me..' Rudra lifted her head. 'The people I kill and the people scared of me aren't saints either. And, whatever I'm doing...it's for Manchandani.' he explained. 'He had his hand on me when I lost everything, when we lost everything. I  have to do this for him.' Rudra said.

Vaidehi pushed his hands away. 'Rudra...you, me...we both know what kind of a man Vikrant Manchandani is! He's worse than a beast!' Vaidehi expressed her frustration.

'A beast who played a Messiah for me when the cruel society discarded me, when they put a young, innocent teenager in jail. When they mercilessly took the life of Ritesh mama in bright daylight.' Rudra's blood boiled with strong determination in every word.

'Amma, can you forget those days?' Rudra asked, emotionally.

Vaidehi stood still reminiscing the past. Her fate. Her son....the train whistling from far as she looked down the tracks, hoping to finish two lives at once.

Her vision blurred as the loud sound of the express neared. She decided to jump but surprisingly felt a pull on her wrist and sudden jerk making her fall on her knees at the platform.

'You're crazy? Who does that?' the middle-aged Ticket Collector Ritesh Rathod asked surprised.

Vaidehi couldn't say anything. Tears and tears... she had nothing else with her. But, that day she found a brother. Ritesh Rathod was a widower who lived alone in his small two-roomed house.

Seeing Vaidehi's plight, he didn't hesitate once to bring her home. He called her his younger sister and cared for her throughout her pregnancy. Rudraksh was born.

Rudra never knew who his father was. It was his Ritesh mama who gave him the last name Rathod. As a child, Rudra was so fond of Ritesh mama and Ritesh felt Rudra was someone who could fulfill all the dreams that he couldn't. Despite people cooking bizarre stories about him and Vaidehi, Ritesh Rathod never hesitated. He saw a bright future for Rudra. He was the best student of his school and Ritesh was so proud of him.

Vaidehi was happy. She never thought life would give her such happiness. How can fate be so nice to her? Her inhibitions were soon to be met with the biggest blow of her life.

14th February, 2013. The day everything changed.

'Amma..!' Rudra placed his hand on his mother's shoulder. Vaidehi looked at him with sad eyes. Rudra shook his head and wiped her eyes.

'Rudra..' she spoke. 'Can't we just leave Saratganj forever?' she asked, helplessly. 'I just cannot bear these people...'

Rudra frowned. 'People! Did someone tell you something? Wasn't Veena with you?' he asked getting a little restless.

Vaidehi shook her head. 'It's not that, Rudra. Nobody said anything to me. They never do. People in this colony..they are scared, Rudra. They...'

'.... and they should be.' Rudra said fiercely remembering the past. This is our new life, Amma.. the best one.' he said.

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