|The secrets we take to grave|✔︎

2|Gaurav's blogpost #1 |

Song for the chapter- Older by Sasha Alex Sloan

Author's note: I have never preferred adding photographs in chapters (no offense to the ones who add them) but in order to induce the feel of a real blog and since wattpad allows the feature to, I might be adding photographs here and there on the blog entries

https://www.gauravbanerjeesharma.blogpost.com

TO SPEAK.

(For all those voices which haven't felt heard)

Title: A house is not a home.

I don't know what I am writing or how did I even get started at this but long ago, the person who used to matter to me the most,validated me that I possess some hand in writing.

My bhai.

So here I give a shot at writing blogs, mumbling about anything and everything.

My name is Gaurav Sharma. Well born and previously known as Gaurav Banerjee.

Like my name, my whole identity is misleading and my the reason of my existence vague. I don't know where do I belong to.

I was not born at the posh mansion of the Sharmas'. I just acquired the title and the spillovers when my mother remarried one of the richest men in the Andaman.

As for the man I called Baba, I don't have really much fond recollections of him to hold on to.

The shouts.

The cries.

The curses and some remnants of the broken crockeries.

It is all but a blur.

I had been thirteen when that man passed away. Cardiac arrest it was.

I did not have much memory of him to hold on to for tears except some hazy visions of him making me ride on his back and him bringing toys for me when I was in the kindergarten. Both of which stopped as soon as I turned ten.

I was happy nevertheless. I was happy that I wouldn't see my mother weeping in the dark anymore.  But I wasn't very pleased when she re-married the very next month and told me that we are shifting to a bigger house. I knew that man, he came to meet Maa at Baba's absence. 

I was not fond of him. But the only times, I have seen Maa smiling were those around him. She worked for him as an receptionist at the Greenwood resort. Before Baba forbade  her going out formally. But he was gone for good and we were free.

I took my bunny toy with me which was Baba's last gift on my 10th birthday. Well, I already had trouble sleeping alone. I didn't want to feel lonelier in the new big house.Atleast I would have someone to hug as I fall asleep.

I was skeptical about shifting to a new house. Seeing the same later, I shuddered. It was too big for me then. Now it stands as a glistening abode of even greater mass and luxury. Straight extracted from the books of mythology.

My new father. The man I called and considered as Baba now and the man my own Baba had compelled maa to fall in love with, kneeled in front of me and whispered.

"You are my son, Gaurav and I wouldn't spare anything to make your ends meet"

Maa was happy. I was looking down, fidgeting my fingers.

"All the baggage of these trauma that you have been carrying hitherto..You can drop it right here"

I would say his words did touch my craving yet wounded heart and I wanted to be the best son for him as well
But Maa wanted all the more. She wanted me to fit in, which I tried to and hell I still am.

Unlike me she blended in so beautifully with the riches like she was born with the innate talent of fitting in.

She tried to overlook the fact that her husband's fatherly love was and it still is tilted a little in the direction of his elder son from his first wife.

My bhai. The fifteen year old who is actually the biological product of Baba. He lost his mother who on the grounds of suicide.

He has always been the epitome of perfection. So well mannered and soft spoken, so tact in masking his emotions as he sees his new mother and her son.
The guy who literally puppeted his father's business with the help of his maternal grandfather at the age of fifteen while his father was at the rock bottom. The guy everyone in the world now knows as the most beloved author of the nation.

My step brother still carries his mother's legacy alongwith his. He shifted to Port Blair at his granndfather's residence after his matriculation for education and some lookouts at the head office of his father.

I had started idolising him. Bhai, I called him.

He was dear to me and my mother the most. I did feel estranged initially by his show of genuinity since he lost his mother just three months ago and when the two most unwelcoming guests stepped in, he was the most excited one.

I vividly remember the re-assuring look on his face when I had a bad dream, one night. It was the time he was here at Rangat and did not object at all when he saw me sleeping at his old room. He, rather, asked if he could sleep alongside.

He patted my back. "You can tell me if something is bothering you Gaurav. Families don't shy away from each other. Especially when a brother is a brother's only secret keeper"

That wasn't only words. He visited Rangat every weekend and slept with me. When I asked him if I was the only thing that kept him coming.

"You are one of the reasons" He would say, laughing out heartedly. "You wouldn't believe the second reason is a girl who I don't even know the name of"

I wanted to tell him that I wasn't a romantic person. An abusive relationship in front of my eyes drained my faith in love. But he tells me, his parents were not in love as well and this made him search for love all the more desperately.  He did believe he would meet her again and have a romance like that written in the books.

Slowly and steadily, he was injecting me with some degree of his romanticism. So much so that seven years later, I would fall in love with the same girl.

PS- Everyone here except me and my girl,are born with a silver spoon so their names would not be mentioned here.

Hello everyone,

What do you think about Gaurav?

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