Sacrifice And Realisation (BOOK #1) ✔

Prologue (Two)

Prologue (Two)

The ancestral and magnificent Bundela mansion was located in the heart of the city Indore where the morning began with the melodious voice of a pretty fifty years old lady, Mrs. Durga Singh Bundela. She was the beautiful wife of the commissioner Virendra and the Bundela mansion harmonized daily with her prayers inside the home temple.

The sound of the prayers daily at the home temple disturbed the most dominant individual of the mansion and he moved out of his loo in a very bad mood. Picking up his socks, he rotated his eyes to check the time. To add more to his distress, the wall clock's battery was dead and he darted one of his shoes at the machine. In a matter of seconds, it collapsed on the floor and shattered into pieces.

"I hate things which stutter and here, the clock has completely stopped. It deserves to be thrown away," he groaned in his deep and high pitched voice, deadly enough to destroy anyone before him.

The owner of the intense voice was Vihaan Singh Bundela who was the Deputy Commissioner under the Indore Police. He had joined his new posting at the bureau of his father only a week ago. He had been previously serving in an another district of the state, later to be transferred to the home city again.

Vihaan Singh Bundela!

This one name was big enough for the illicit lawbreakers to tremble in fear and he had been more deleterious on the criminals than his own father. Bloodshot eyes, heightened temper, muscular body and enormous hatred for stuttering things, the twenty eight years old man was a living destroyer for the wrong doers. In short, he was devilishly handsome who could readily break the bones of the troublemakers without prior warning.

According to him, everything that stuttered was a criminal and the cause of trouble in every sense. The clock in his room that had stopped working was displaying wrong time for the day and he broke it into pieces. The criminals also stuttered during questionnaire session while speaking the truth and he despised this attitude. Similarly, he hated waiting or wasting time as it meant stagnating his work for the day.

Nobody had ever seen him smiling since he joined the police service. He was known to be one of the toughest cops in Madhya Pradesh police and had received a couple of bravery awards during the tenure of his service. He was the youngest to have received such great awards which had made his father eventually proud for him.

As he glided down the staircase to the gigantic hall of the mansion, he stole a glance at the home temple from the corner of his black eyes. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, "So mom is not ready with the breakfast. Her temple drama and prayers! How much I hate these in my life!"

Without even waiting for a second, he departed for his duty hurriedly. As soon as his mother saw him rushing out of the house in an empty stomach, she yelled behind him pulling her ownself alongwith the wheelchair, "Vihaan, please wait. You can't leave in empty stomach. I'm sorry that I got late with the morning prayers because I woke up late. I was unwell and..."

Durga was bound to fall off the wheelchair when Virendra rushed to his wife's help. "Durga, what are you doing? Whom are you narrating your reasons to? Do you think Vihaan will patiently listen to what you say?"

Settling herself on the wheelchair, Durga cried against her husband's palm. "When will he have the patience to listen to his own mother? When will he start believing in God again and reenter our home temple? When will he forgive me and speak to me again?"