❝Live a life of Lies, die a death of Truth.❞
The one thing fate is good at is spinning dangerous turns and planting deathly bogs in the stream of life. When you are stuck in the eye of the storm, the truth can't set you free; but the lies can give y...
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July 31, 2017
This is crazy. I am crazy.
"Sir, your room number is 302. Ritesh will take your luggage to the room," the receptionist of Sharma Motel says.
"That won't be necessary. I don't have much luggage. Thank you." I grab the keys and take the stairs before she could say anything to me.
I'm staying in the same motel as the girl I saw in the car. Why? Because I am crazy. A valid excuse I gave myself before coming here is that I don't have any other place to be and there's nothing wrong about being in a motel which happens to be the same one the girl and her family chose.
Except that she could find out that I'm stalking her and report me to the police.
I shake my head as I reach the room and key in. A pungent smell hits me right away as I stifle a gag. Immediately reaching for my backpack, I get a can of deodorant out and spray it across the room. As the fog clears, I see a compact bed, an old wooden chair and a crooked door with no lock in the room. Sighing, I drop my bag on the chair and sit on the bed, waiting for the rigidity to hit me. But its soft covers surprise me. Not as bad as I thought.
An announcement so loud the whole motel can hear is shouted out. The restaurant tied up with the motel is announcing the beginning of the buffet along with some vile performance. My stomach grumbles right with the announcement. One thing I learned from this whole detour is how hungry I often feel. It's true, what they say. Luxuries are never felt until they're taken away from you.
As I open the door, I see a little boy run in the corridor and a girl running behind. As they run past me, I immediately feel it in my gut. She's that girl; the very same. Her hair is up in a bun and her white kurti blends with her skin texture like how frosting compliments a cake. I hear her laughter ricochet in the corridor as she chases the little boy and soon, she catches up to him. And I feel a grasp on my shoulder.
"What are you doing here, young man?"
My breathing quickens as I whisk around, making the hand fly off of me. The middle-aged man who drove the girl here stands before me. By the looks of it, he definitely recognizes me.
"Pardon, sir?" I ask, hoping my profuse sweat isn't too visible for him to judge.
"Yaar, you and your police mind, Vinodh! Leave the guy be!" A voice which is the texture of warm honey comes followed by a short, slightly chubby woman as she stands next to the man she addressed.
"Excuse him, he does this to quite a lot. You're the guy who told us our door was unlocked, right? Thank you so much!" She smiles as I realize how powerful her smile is. Those are the kinds that are so magnetic it pulls the smile from your lips without even your recognition of it.
