A rich spoiled boy from an affluent political family got attracted to a simple middle class girl. He tried to seduce her in vain. So he abducted her and forced himself on her. To make the situation worse his family pressurized her family to keep her...
You have to confess your guilts to someboday one day. That was the day when both father and son confessed their true feelings for each other for the first time. After ages all of their differences washes away with tears.
Shivam, still leaning on his chair and closing his eyes, tells his son frankly -
"I had been a big fool. So much fool that I thought she would come back to by receiving the news of your coming into her life. But that was not even her fault. By making a girl pregnant against her wish, you can't force her to be with you. In young age, a boy can make such mistake. I made that too. I forgot to understand that she was also a human being with her own dreams, own goals, own wishes and expectations from life. You just can't force yourself upon anybody. You have to touch her heart and her soul instead of her body. I know she hates me and will never forgive me for that. It is okay for me. I know I am damn rapist. I should not deserve any kind of mercy. But I dont expect the same fate for you, my son."
He stops talking for a moment. Ansh, his son, is still clutching his legs with teary eyes. For the first time in his life he comes to know that his father is not ignorant about his existence as he thought earlier, but he just wanted to be out of his sight in the fear that he will follow his footsteps. This man, sitting broken before him, is not at all hateful to him, rather forced by his own guilt feeling to keep himself out of his only child's touch. Now he truly understands why his father never attended any PT or parents-teachers meeting of his school. He simply did not want anyone to taunt his child for his own misdeeds. But how could he know that Saransh was already famous in his friend circle of the school as a "Bastard Child", "Son of a Rapist", "Illegitimate Son", "Dirty Fruit of his Prostitute Mother" etc etc. His father never came to any award ceremony where Saransh won an award, not becuse he disliked his son, but because he wanted to protect him from such humiliations. How big fool he himself was? In the crowd, when he never found his father, he always cursed his own luck and cried aloud? How much hateful he became to his own father since then with actually no reason? He loathed his father and he dreamt that one day when he would grow older he would much more worser than his father. As a young boy whenever he won a medal or an award, he always wanted to prove himself. But inspite of his dedication and hard work, everyone always suspected some foul game.
"He is a Raijada after all. He has to win every medal. His uncle bought it for him like other awards."
A young Saransh wanted to kick them hard who called his father a 'Rapist' and his mother a 'Prostitute', but how could he win over them? He sobbed hard every night and tried to reach for his father, who was, also like his son, fighting with his own inner demon. When he could not get his father's support, then being totally frustruted he decided to be strong like his uncle and started following his evil footprints. The result was prompt. Now nobody dares to look at Saransh or talk foul about him openly. But the urgent question is can this situstion be different if his father showed not such indifference to him in past? He does not know and neither wants to know. But today he feels very sorry for his father.
Shivam asks him - "How could you play in the hand of others?"
Saransh fails to understand the inner meaning of his question. He looks at his father wide eyed full with tears.
"Why you showed her the gun, Son?" Now his father clearly asks him in a simewhat choking voice.
"But.. But the pistol was empty. It had no bullets inside. I just tried to shake her up." He answers timidly with guilt feeling.
"And she shaked your determination instead. Ha.. Ha.. Ha.." Shivam lets out a small laugh before clutching his chest. His head leans on the left at the very next moment.
Ansh was shocked to see that. He clutches his father's shoulders tightly and tries to shake him up by loudly calling him.
"Dad... Dad.. Get up dad.. Get up."
Within just an hour Shivam has been swiftly shifted at the hospital. He is diagnosed with a serious heart problem and is adviced to have an Angioplasty. Satyam does not object to spend any money for his brother's treatment and within three days he is declared as out of danger.
In this three day Saransh can't sleep an ounce. His eyelids are heavy with sleeps but he decides to stay awake with his ailing father. He suppresses his tears when he notices his father on hospital bed. He hugs him tightly and whispers just one word in his ears - "Sorry".
His father runs his hands through his heads affectionately. He now knows that there is a slight chance of improvement for his beloved Anshu. But in the middle of this emotional drama, suddenly the door of the hospital bursts open aloud and a lady practically runs into the room.
"Oh sorry, I had got the bad news. So I come to check whether you are still alive or long gone." She signs upward dramatically with her index finger.
She is none other than Anuja herself. By clicking her toungue with "Tut tut" sounds for several times she snaps back once more -
"Oh mine, you are still alive. Then you definitely don't need my help. Tata."
With a flight she reaches to the door and before going out of the room utters in a cold hissing voice by slightly tilting her head at the right side -
"Dont worry, I will not let you live. And afraid not, I will not let you die either." (Sochiye mat, main apko jine nahi dungi; aur dariye mat, main apko marne bhi nahi dungi.)
She goes out of the room with a shrill laugh while Saransh stares hard at her in bewiderment and Shivam lets out a sigh. He knows who she is. And he also understands the meaning of her threat. His own guilt will follow him till his own dooms day. It was better to be hanged than this slow merciless hateful lonely death day by day.
"Dad, I hate her." His son tells him by making a disgusted face.
"Don't, son. She is innocent." He tells him with a small smile.
"How can you forgive her for this?" Saransh asks him once more. This time with more impatience.
"Its all my fault, son. All my fault." Shivam lowers his head more infront the fierce fighting spirit of Shivangi. His Shivangi is unique. He loved her but he now worships her as a goddess (Devi).
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