cross road

Chapter 1

The lawyers were discussing the partnership split with Arav on the couch at the end of the cabin, while I found myself gazing at the sky through the long, transparent ceiling window. I tuned out their conversation, lost in thoughts about my family back home.

I come from a well-respected family deeply involved in politics. My father is a well-known political leader in Raksha Nagar. Although we're not natives of the town, he is highly regarded here. An engineer by training, he moved here for work but soon realized that life in a village differs greatly from that in the city. Whenever he had spare time, he dedicated himself to development projects in the town, earning the trust of the villagers.

His generosity soon spread to neighboring towns, where he met Gopal, a like-minded individual from a political background. While my father provided strategic insight, Gopal worked on the ground to uplift both communities. They played a significant role in my parents' marriage as well. Eventually, Gopal convinced my father to leave his job and enter politics alongside him.

For the past thirty years, they have contested elections in two different towns and have never lost a single election, a testament to their commitment to the community.

My elder brother Kunal and sister Diya all of us look up to my father. Diya will be turning eighteen in just a few days; she's the spoiled brat of the family, receiving endless attention from all the men around us. Our mother often worries that we're indulging her, but deep down, she enjoys the affection Diya receives—something she never experienced with her own siblings.

Kunal, like our father, has followed in his footsteps. After completing his studies, he began working alongside Dad. I wouldn't be surprised if he eventually ran for office in Raksha Nagar, just like our father. He married a wonderful woman named Arti, and they complement each other beautifully.

As for me, marriage isn't something I'm particularly interested in, but the happy unions of my brother, father, and Uncle Gopal do make me reconsider.

After completing my engineering, I decided to start a startup in Bangalore, which strained my relationship with my family. My father was deeply disappointed; he had expected me to follow in his footsteps like my brother did. Although he never outright opposed my move, he felt betrayed because I hadn't shared my entrepreneurial aspirations with him.

Whenever I had time away from college, I participated in the community activities he organized, whether it was encouraging families to enroll their children in school or initiatives aimed at reducing alcohol-related issues among youth. I was working on developing my leadership skills, and my father believed I was following his path. His plans for my future were shattered when I revealed my decision to start my own company.

When I broke the news about my move, it led to a tense argument at home. My mother, brother, and sister-in-law rallied to support me and eventually convinced my father. Kunal has always been my protector in these matters.

Five years later, my bond with my father still hasn't healed. We tolerate each other during our encounters, with my mother and brother acting as the glue that keeps us connected.

I teamed up with Atul and Arav to create our own civic website startup. While my relationship with Arav is akin to the close friendships I had with my childhood friends Mitul and Sneha, my connection with Atul remains strictly professional.

Aside from missing my family, I miss Mitul and Sneha the most. Mitul is the son of Uncle Gopal. After Gopal's marriage, it took them a long time to conceive, making Mitul something of a miracle child, born around the same time as me. We were inseparable as kids, spending so much time together due to the bond between our fathers; some even mistook us for twins.

However, our friendship became strained when I moved abroad for further studies. Mitul wanted us to complete our engineering together in Bangalore, but I chose a different path. Although he has never ended our friendship, it's been a rocky road since then.

We've shifted from being inseparable to barely keeping in touch. Like my brother, Mitul has followed in his father's footsteps into politics. In our case, Sneha is the common thread. We attended the same school, and she comes from a very humble background. In an effort to set an example, our parents sent us to public school, which is how we met Sneha.

Sneha has always kept her distance to avoid becoming the subject of gossip that could impact her education. It's disheartening to see that, despite our progress, deep-seated stigmas related to caste and gender still persist in society.

Mitul was deeply in love with Sneha, and that feeling still lingered. However, Sneha never reciprocated his feelings, even though I sensed that she cared for him more than anything. If I said he was her backbone, I wouldn't be wrong, but she held back because of her responsibilities to her family. Unlike us, she couldn't pursue a degree; she declined our offers to help and instead took a degree through an autonomous program to support her family after finishing school.

Aarav's voice broke through my thoughts as he called my name loudly. I had been leaning against the window, lost in reflection. With a sigh, I walked back to my desk and sat down.

"We've completed all the legal procedures to split our company," Aarav said, visibly relieved. "Each of us will get 33.33 percent, and you and I will continue as partners. We'll give 33.33 percent to Atul and move forward with our parts."

Atul, our other partner, had decided to part ways with us. From the beginning, our ideas had clashed, but we had stayed together out of respect for our college friendship and the strong mix of intelligence and marketing skills we brought to the table. Atul always carried a sense of superiority, which we overlooked at first, but now it had become unmanageable. Behind our backs, he made a deal with a client, and when we confronted him about it, he turned it into a dramatic scene. Aarav and I agreed it was best to separate from him, and although he was shocked by our decision, he eventually accepted it.

We were on the brink of something significant but faced a major setback. Still, Aarav and I were confident that we could rebuild this multimillion company to new heights with our experience.

P.S.: Very slow update.