He sneaked into the house with a bottle in his hands. He had a red saare in his hands. He made his way into a large room.
It was filled with paintings of his wife, his Preesha, his oxygen. Every sleepless night he used to paint her portraits. He started by reminiscing their sweet moments and ended with heartbreak. He carried her letter everywhere to remind him the of the pain.
A large empty wall had tally marks on it. Je counted each day he had spent without her. Her clothes, her jewelry, everything which belonged to her was in that room including her Rudra.
It has been a year but he hasn't got any lead on his Preesha. He used his power and money but nothing worked.
He placed the saare besides him and remembered when she first wore it for him. He smiled remembering their dance that night, how he teased her and how she was blushing. But it soon faded away.
He took out his canvas and started painting. The room was dark with a small lamp in a corner just like his life. Life...? Did he really have one? No. Preesha was everything to him, without her he is mere skeleton.
Every corner of the room screamed Preesha. His love for her was visible in his art. Some paintings had strokes of blood on them. It was his blood. When alcohol couldn't help him forget the pain he would hurt himself. He would end up crying for her and caressing her paintings which left the marks on them.
He was living for his daughter now. He did concerts in different cities to secure her future and also to look for his Preesha. He always carried her note with him in which read "All the best Rudraksh Khurana. I'll always be with you."
He finished his painting and laid down thinking of her. He had a smile on his face but his eyes were devoid of any emotions. He had a cut on his arm due to the broken bottle but that didn't bother him. He slept there keeping the saare close to his heart.
Based on what her husband had told she was meant to hate Rudraksh Khurana but Preesha's heart was unable to accept. Her life seem happy on outside but inside she felt incomplete.
Like many days she again had a dream. It was him, Rudra. He was singing for her while she was sitting on his lap. They looked happy together.
She woke up with a severe headache. She couldn't get him out of her mind. She hated the tricks her mind was playing. There was a discomfort and restlessness in her. She always felt something familiar when she heard his name.
She broke the table lamp in frustration. She wanted to meet him, to get the answers about the strange connection she felt. Whenever she tried to hate him she felt an ache in her heart. Her inner consciousness always told her she had to apologize to him. But for what ? She had no answer.
What her husband told always conflicted with the dreams she had. Without telling her husband she had started taking sleeping pills but little did she know that they were taking her away from her Rudra.
Even in this fake world lies, Rudra still stayed with her. He was always on her mind. She always felt him shouting her name, calling her. But why? She had no answer
