The most special and exciting aspect of his good time was meeting Miss Vanchana Nath, daughter of the inexplicably wealthy Naths who owned half of the shopping complexes in the state and much more.
“You have to do it. Or else you and your family will be in ruins. Never shake hands with someone without knowing what it does- serves or kills.” These words of Virat bhai kept resonating in Samyak’s mind. He had only a few hours to execute his order. He was feeling helpless. How could he…how could he even think about it? That oh-so-hopelessly-cute girl had recently become an important part of his life. He tried very hard to sleep, but his mind drifted off to the day when he had met Virat bhai for the first time. Don’t know why, but in both reality and fiction, while facing acute crisis, people tend to remember their past joys which actually add to their pain by magnifying the terrible feeling of “why!!”
A month back, a bearded, broad shouldered, fat and dark middle aged man had come to his house to meet him. Perfect for the role of a villain in a typical Bollywood action flick, Samyak mumbled to himself and smirked. He was taking out all his certificates to photocopy them and submit in his college. He was from a hand-to-mouth family but had regal looks. After passing his higher secondary exam in Science stream without any private lesson or coaching but with a distinction, he had become the hero of his town.
Fathers inspired their sons to be like him and mothers wanted their daughters to get a husband like him. “Sorry, but I can’t recognize you”, Samyak said with a puzzled expression, “But please be comfortable” he said and instantly regretted his words looking at the old torn sofa. “How can you not know him? He is Virat bhai. The best man in our town. He wants you to do a small work for him. Don’t worry boy, you will be paid in return”, the lean and thin man positioned near the fat man spoke in an animated way and sat down, smiling. He seemed to be bhai’s chela. Virat bhai smacked the little man’s head and said, “You rascal, first give him the sweets. And Samyak, my son, congratulations on your result. You are everyone’s pride. Come here”. Virat bhai’s sugary words somehow did not go well with his rowdy appearance.
Villains master the art of smooth-talking and fast-talking, Samyak said to himself. He was taken aback when he caught sight of some bundles of 1000 notes above the packet of sweets. Bhai answered his bewildered gaze, “This is the advance” and grinned, exposing his paan smeared teeth. “But for what? What have I got to do, sir?” Samyak was getting desperate to know. “A new family has recently shifted into the bungalow in your locality.” “The Naths?” “Yes, yes. If you know them, you ought to know their little girl too. Just approach her parents….” “Approach her parents? Is not she too young, sir?” “Arre no Samyak. Ask them if you can be her babysitter.
Coming back from college, you will take her out and play with her every evening. Both Mr. and Mrs. Nath are busy whole day. They must be relieved if a boy like you wishes to give their daughter time.” Samyak readily agreed, and shook hands with Virat bhai. He was in absolute need of money, and any source that could satiate his need was heartily welcome.
Back to reality, Samyak looked at his hands, those hands who had shamelessly accepted so much money from a total stranger, only because it helped him pay his college and tuition fees and also buy his parents’ medicines. He even opened a bank account and was saving for his elder sister’s marriage. He could gather enough courage to talk to the unbelievably beautiful girl whom he met almost every day during his grocery shopping only after he bought a cell phone and could ask for her no., which obviously came from bhai’s money. His studies were also going fabulous and he never let his professors have any grudge against him. He was on cloud 9 for first few days and had deep felt gratitude in his heart for Virat bhai, who was like God for him!
The most special and exciting aspect of his good time was meeting Miss Vanchana Nath, daughter of the inexplicably wealthy Naths who owned half of the shopping complexes in the state and much more. The first time he walked into their palace, he was really nervous but equally dumbstruck too. He felt his senses going numb ogling at the royal look of the bungalow.
As expected by bhai, the Naths were more than happy to have Samyak as their child’s babysitter. Vanchana got bored after returning from school every day, given her parents were back after 9. For how long would she watch Dora and SpongeBob? And how could the fifty-year-old maids in the house dive into the innocent and creative world of a five-year-old? Samyak had an uncanny love for kids and he truly enjoyed the time with Vanu, more than Vanu did.
His transformation from the dark circled guy with pimples all over his face to the dreamy eyed guy with radiant skin was going to drive back. This guy deserves happiness, even Almighty thought that. But he was destined for something else. Dawn is preceded by dusk and succeeded also by dusk.
Being immensely nostalgic, he recalled the day when he had lengthened his babysitting period and taken Vanu to the priciest ice cream parlor in town. “Sam dada, please call up dad and ask him to pay my bill”, he was astonished seeing the level of understanding in the girl at such an age. She had even shared her favorite black forest flavor with him. If ever Vanu refused her parents’ gifts, they knew that Samyak would be their savior. She never disagreed with what her dearest and only bro told her. He wiped off all the tears from his face and tried in vain to divert his mind from Vanu. Her words “I love you Sam dada” and the kiss on his cheek thereafter were a must have before they parted every day. He adored her, she admired him.
But the turn of events had messed up everything. He banged his fist hard on his table and felt like ending his life. The tick-tock of the wall clock grabbed hold of his attention. He looked at it and yelled, “Damn, I am late. Vanu will be waiting for me.” He changed into a blue shirt and suddenly Virat bhai’s words came back to his mind. He called up Mr. Nath’s one of servants and spoke, “Jai da, please get Vanchana ready. I wish to take her to the Museum today…” he could not complete his sentence and disconnected the call. He was having a feeling of lifelessness and utterly forgot that he had exams from the next day.
Everything that took place that evening was dreadful. An endearing teeny-weeny girl with big black eyes screaming for attention was lying in a pool of blood in the forested area near the City Museum. He ran out of the place as bhai’s gang took away her dead body to throw away in the outskirts. Only then did he realize the agonizing pain in his back head, the exact place where he had hit Vanu. He was paralyzed with the unbearable pain. On top of that, one half of his soul died when he struck Vanu with the humongous boulder.
The other half rejoiced imagining his family’s gaiety, provided bhai’s promise of 10 lakh for this murder. Their economic condition would make headway and for sure, Virat bhai would keep supporting his expenses. After all he agreed to put a full stop to half of his soul and half of his brain. He behaved hysterically, laughing and wailing at the same time. It is difficult to accept tremendous gain and loss at one go. His loss was burdensome, but his head pain was overpowering any other kind of thought.
Whole night, Samyak kept wandering in the streets insanely. Many lovebirds came to light in the night abused him and many businessmen returning home who offered to drop him were greeted with his vulgar language. Irritated by continuous buzzing of his cell phone, he tried to switch it off but stumbled and it fell into the drain. He flashed a really wicked smile.
Sensing that sun was about to show its face, he began walking through the middle of the road. Like a shot, as if fate’s reflex action, a speeding truck was seen swiftly coming towards Samyak. He was immersed in his head pain too much to even notice his favorite Shah Rukh Khan, what was a damn truck? In the wish-washy light of daybreak, the truck driver failed to notice anyone on the road and struck Samyak on his head, exactly where it was aching.
The moment blood started dripping from his head, he felt free of all kinds of pain. His pain got evaporated and left his body. He felt thankful to the driver and looked at him with outright indebtedness. A new dawn was arriving but actually it was dusk in disguise. Dawn and dusk had met, signing the deal for a lifelong camaraderie.
— Learning&Creativity (@LearnNCreate) June 26, 2014
We are editorially independent, not funded, supported or influenced by investors or agencies. We try to keep our content easily readable in an undisturbed interface, not swamped by advertisements and pop-ups. Our mission is to provide a platform you can call your own creative outlet and everyone from renowned authors and critics to budding bloggers, artists, teen writers and kids love to build their own space here and share with the world.
When readers like you contribute, big or small, it goes directly into funding our initiative. Your support helps us to keep striving towards making our content better. And yes, we need to build on this year after year. Support LnC-Silhouette with a little amount - and it only takes a minute. Thank you
Got a poem, story, musing or painting you would like to share with the world? Send your creative writings and expressions to email@example.com
Learning and Creativity publishes articles, stories, poems, reviews, and other literary works, artworks, photographs and other publishable material contributed by writers, artists and photographers as a friendly gesture. The opinions shared by the writers, artists and photographers are their personal opinion and does not reflect the opinion of Learning and Creativity- emagazine. Images used in the posts (not including those from Learning and Creativity's own photo archives) have been procured from the contributors themselves, public forums, social networking sites, publicity releases, free photo sites such as Pixabay, Pexels, Morguefile, etc and Wikimedia Creative Commons. Please inform us if any of the images used here are copyrighted, we will pull those images down.