Sun, having completed his due course slowly and steadily submerged with the horizon. Letting the moon take the stage. Nights have never been a safe time of day in secluded and seemingly abandoned places of Juhu for the reason that dark and jeopardous elements lurked around waiting with restraint to come across the right victim to strike.
But I knew every nook and corner of this place, nothing happens around here without escaping my notice. I am the King in the true purport of the word. And anyone who tries to defy me, meets the same fate. Death.
Today, two of my minions had to forgo their lives for the simple reason that they failed to execute my orders. That were to catch her.
Manjari, I never thought that she was the one who they thought could lead to my downfall. I am unparalleled King of Mumbai's underworld because I anticipate my foes even before they can think of their first step. It is never easy to construct a kingdom from grounds but having muscle and money could help come a long way and I had both courtesy to the anti social forces of Afghanistan.
It had not been easy to crack the High Commanding Officer of Mumbai Police Forces as it had been to bribe sub inspectors. If I wanted to establish my forces it was imperative that I sweeper away all the hurdles. While some were hypnotized by the force of money, many succumbed to death. The Commanding Officer new what was best for him and he chose to live off the money and drugs that I provided him. Thereafter it was all the more easier to get him to rattle the name of their mole.
And guess who they named Manjari. I guess they chose well an unsuspecting maiden, full score in looks and wit. She had been a good tool to coerce the men who posed strong with us men but were gullible as a butter to a warm body of a woman.
Lucky for her she escaped or else she would have suffered the same fate as the men today. But for how long can one abscond me, soon or later she will make a mistake until then I will wait in the shadows always ready to strike.
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Swayam POV
I took a step back from the window, now that the sun had settled and Moon emerged the traffic of Mumbai started accumulating on the St Louis convent Road, tarmac no more can be seen only the rear lights of innumerable cars can be made out.
I turned and took a seat on the coach with so much force that the sound emitted disturbed the quite that settled in the lounge after Shormishta left.
As soon as she left I was sucked into the cloudburst of memories. Spiralling down the stair case that led me to the closed door of my subconscious mind which contained dozens of glimpse of our time together within.
Each and every moment I spent with Manjari was happening all over again inside my head. Her sinuous laughter, her melting chocolate eyes into which every time I looked, I felt as if I was Alice, falling down the rabbit's hole, her graceful movements when she danced, her dress flaring as she took a turn always made me feel breathless.
She always looked at me with such carefree eyes that I forgot all my sorrows. She made me feel for I had been numb for far too long. She never judged me, like others did. Never had her eyes contained pity for me, but wonder. Not even the time when I first broke down in front of her.
I still remember the day as if it were only yesterday.
In the school I had won the gold medal for scoring highest marks in my standard, I was jubilant and had come running and jumping, calling every one of my friend to see my medal. It shone bright in the sunlight casting a glare in to my eyes at a little tilt. Having showed everyone I went inside my house shouting for my mother. Our house was quite big in comparison to other houses on our street. It had a huge garden which boasted of a swing. Inside the house there were 5 rooms. Each newly painted on the occasion of Diwali.
It had never happened that when I had called my mother and she hadn't given a response, even if she would be busy in work she would always acknowledge me and tell me where she was in the house. I called once again and on not getting a response I went in search for her. First I went to my room thinking she must be waiting for me there, but she wasn't there I searched the whole house, called out to her numerous times. In the end I went into the store room where we kept our old junk. It was a very small room and so much was stuffed in there that I felt claustrophobic every time I stepped in.
The door creaked as I opened the double doors. It was dark inside, the only source of light being the window on the far end of the wall. As I took a step inside I saw my mother lying on her stomach. It appeared as if she was searching for something under the table kept there. I slowly took steps towards her wanting to scare her by shouting at the last minute when I would be close to her and soon just did that. Every time I did that she would jump inches off the ground clutching her heart, but today there was no response from her. So I resorted to shake her. Still no reaction.
"mum, mum. Look I got a gold medal as I promised I would get you this year. Mum please see no. Mum!" I whimpered, scared. Still no response.
Finally, I decided to turn her over that is when I spotted it. The paper clutched tightly in her right hand. I peeled her finger from over it and smoothening the wrinkles that appeared because of her harsh grip I took the sheet and read it's content. As my eyes skimmed the withered paper my legs soon lost their ability to keep me upright. I sat down and clutched my head.
My father had abandoned us.
He left us. For money.
Nothing made sense except for the fact that he was gone.
That He left my mother and me here.
Never to come back. He threatened my mother to not to try and find him, saying she will lose me if she went to the police go lodge a missing person report.
The letter was written in such a cold and detached tone that I had trouble identifying the writer of the letter with my father, who till yesterday laughed played with me. The father who I could touch, hug, climb on top of. I could no longer enjoy such luxury in my life. All because he left us.
I bowed my head and placed it between my knees and cried. I cried for the father that I no longer had in my life. I cried for my mother who lost her husband, for whom she sacrificed her everything. Who loved him with all her heart. She gave him her faith, her trust, her love and with one piece of paper he destroyed it all. In the end I cried for my self. Grieving for the father I yearned for, I wished that he would come running the front door, dressed in his blue checked shirt and trousers, throw his hands up making his trademark move and shout " Just kidding" with a smile that would light up this store room and all of this would go away with our laughter.
Alas he didn't come, he didn't shout the magic words and I cried. I cried till my eyes were numb, my throat parched and my head throbbed.
YOU ARE READING
Starry Nights
General FictionSwayam's heart has been scarred. Badly. His days are spent moving forward and nights remembering about the past. But what will happen when his past is no longer contained to nights but also consumes his every waking moment when SHE comes back. Wil...
