Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧˚·̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥·̩̩̥͙✧·̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥˚·̩̩̥͙✧
Ira's life seemed to have a knack for veering off course from her desires. For as long as she knew, it had always been like that, with her heart whispering fervent longings, yet the orchestration of destiny chose divergent paths she'd rather not walk. At 10, her yearning for canvases and paints led to piano classes instead. At 16, dreaming of a future as a veterinarian had been pruned into administrative corridors by her father's insistence on civil services.
Or at 21, when she seized a moment to rebel, sneaking out for a party against her dad's wishes for the first time, her taste of newfound freedom swerved into a nightmare. In a desolate alley, her act of defiance met an unthinkable end because someone sought vengeance against her father, and in a twisted turn, revenge targeted her instead. That fateful night not only stole her chance at her inaugural drink but cruelly snatched away her very life.
It was a rather grim affair. Ira is sure to have nightmares about it for years to come.
Anyway, the point is, there's a pattern there if you observe. And patterns, Ira knew, were significant. Her dad and the entire collection of Sherlock Holmes novels taught her the value of spotting them, allowing insight into what others might overlook. One glance at her life story, and you could easily predict what a wonderful stroke of luck she had.
And the worst part?
It's almost like fate had a twisted sense of humor, deciding that Ira's journey hadn't seen enough tribulations. Because she didn't know whether it was some cosmic error or a deliberate twist of destiny, Nadira Baweja found herself catapulted into a dystopian realm called Khansaar, where she inhabited the life of a daughter under the thumb of an even more domineering father than she'd known.
God, does she need that drink now!
It was almost like a cosmic blunder of grand proportions━━a soul misplaced, a life upended. Instead of the expected transitions of the afterlife or a fresh start through reincarnation, she found herself awkwardly thrust into the body of a fucking adult amid bustling streets, like a puzzle piece jammed into the wrong picture.
Ira couldn't help but wonder if the man above there had shuffled her cards into a deck meant for a different game entirely. The absurdity of it all felt like being caught in the middle of a cosmic comedy sketch, one where the punchlines were dark, and the humor was as twisted as the circumstances she found herself in.
She would've wholly believed it to be so with all her heart if it hadn't been for him.
VARADHARAJA MANNAR
˚₊✩₊‧ ‧₊✩‧₊˚
If he hadn't been there that day, if he hadn't found her crouched next to a tea shop, hyperventilating, trapped in a panic attack, struggling to navigate the aftershocks of witnessing a shootout, and the absolute chaos erupted in broad daylight just as she opened her eyes after literally experiencing a stab through her heart, she couldn't believe where she would have been now. It felt like a prank to have found a steadying presence in such a vulnerable, pathetic moment amidst the pandemonium, offering her a hand amid the chaos after the shattered illusion of safety.
