A cycle of falling in love, marrying, and falling out again leads to love.
Because love is the endgame.
__________
The Chauhan's are one of the most influential families in India. Having spread their ties to Healthcare, manufacturing, social service...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The entertainment industry was full of glamour, glitter, and gold but most of all, it was a world of deception. There was no face unveiled. Each one was in itself a vizard, a camouflage to hide what they were within from those who stared at their exteriors.
There was no day when the individuals who stepped in with a blank canvas left untainted. They were painted with colors of greed, disguised self-interest, and manipulation. They were left tainted, ruined, and scarred. Masking their faces to hide secrets was their only way out. Each person who worked within this industry was fake, from the cast staging to being someone they weren't to the crew who hid behind the camera and helped them fool the world.
There were no saints.
Each one of them was hiding more than the other. This world was no black hole, but a snake island. There was a possibility one could survive a black hole but never a poison. This place harbored not just a plethora of deadly reptiles but they stored large bushes which hid unworldly scourges.
There could be anecdotes to poison but what about evils?
There was no way out.
You get stuck in here, you gotta develop iron skin and a beautiful mask to live and liberate. Either you face snakes or become one of them. There was no surviving here. No alternative. No exit and most importantly, no breather.
People quote 'Consistency leads to one's success.' None realized, before everything, consistency leads you away from death.
In the case of the glamour industry, consistency leads you to withhold and suppress others.
"Is the coffee to your liking?"
Uttara watched the woman who occupied the seat opposite her. In her age of early sixties, she sat dressed to the nines at 4 at night or should say, an hour before the sun would rise and the city would be awake to start a new day while she was here, still watching the night prolong.
"You did not make me come here for only a cup of coffee. Have you Mrs. Sinha?" Uttara assessed her with indifference. Her face is masked with the calmness that seems to work its charm.
Weren't masks pretty little things hiding so much behind them?
A tangible mask worked well but an intangible mask rocked. It played with your opponent's brain.
Avantika Sahay let her lips tip at her need to get to the point. "I did peg you to be smart, Uttara. I knew my son wouldn't marry just anyone."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Mrs. Sinha. I never married your son." Uttara smiled her most pretty one at her host while she played with the spoon in her cup. "For, my husband is no son of a bitch."
"How dare you?" Avantika's mask cracked and she could see right through the Botox exterior she had built on her face.
"I dare very easily." She pipped taking a sip holding eye contact with her husband's bad memories. "You see, I dared to sit in that car sent by you and let your driver bring me here. I do dare unlike you who hide yourself behind your puppets."
