Free echapter from novel "Once Again Beautiful And Pure'

 

Thank you for you interest in the free chapter from the novel ‘Once Again Beautiful and Pure’ by Bharani Kumar Buyakar.

 

Here is your free chapter.

 

 

Loyalty

 

Give us the strength of heart

By which we can win over ourselves

Before winning over others

 

It was back in 1998, a time when the air was filled with the chant of morning prayers from nearby schools. I stood by one of these schools, basking in the warmth of the bright, sunny day. My supervisor, with a friendly pat on my back, reminded me, "You've got 30 more houses to visit."

 

With a nod and a smile, I went on my rounds, armed with a container of mosquito repellent. Entering each home, I checked their water storage systems, ensuring they were free from pests, and added repellents as needed. My supervisor and I made quite the team, completing our tasks in record time while sharing stories of our community and our lives.

 

Those were simpler times, when we believed anything was possible. Despite the challenges I faced in my upbringing—losing my father early, struggling through multiple attempts to pass my matriculation exams, and relying on my mother's meager pension and rent—earning a salary of Rs 2000/- felt like reaching the top of success.

 

My distant uncle, whom I affectionately called Baba, always emphasized the importance of education. When I couldn't excel academically but managed to secure this job, he was proud of me. His advice echoed in my ears—to hold onto this job, save diligently, and build a life from it. I followed his advice for many years.

 

As for my mother, she was both an angel and a schemer, striving to save every penny for our family. Nevertheless, when I think of her now, along with some minor incidents of horrors of my past, I also remember the loving days we three - I, my mother, and my sister had together. They waited for my return to have dinner, no matter how late I would have been. We used to watch silly comedy serials on TV and laugh together. Those were the innocent, burdenless days of independence - when you never relied on anyone outside your family for happiness. A day's cycle would go like wake up, eat, work, eat, laugh, sleep. This was the state for some years.

 

As time passed, life started to change. While I was working in the entomology department, I often chatted playfully with girls my age. But it was one special encounter that really caught my attention. Among all the joking around about their shy smiles and subtle hints, one person stood out. She stole my heart, and before I knew it, I was falling in love.

 

I was in love.

 

Smitha: 

 

I still vividly recall the first moment I saw Smitha. At first, she mistook my glance for something else, shooting me a look of disdain, assuming I was following her. But that changed when she noticed my act of kindness, helping an elderly gentleman cross the street. Her smile lit up the entire day, and from then on, every interaction with her felt like a treasure.

 

Our conversations, no matter how simple, transformed ordinary days into extraordinary experiences. Even the darkest nights seemed to glow in her presence, turning mundane moments into magical memories. I'll never forget the joy of sharing a humble meal with her, feeling like we owned the world with just a few coins in our pockets. And the thought of not talking for even a few days during holidays made me restless.

 

Smitha's simplicity was her charm and positive demeanour. Despite our similar humble backgrounds, her radiant smile and optimistic outlook never failed to captivate me. In the midst of life's struggles, she was a ray of hope and happiness.

****

 

As our love story unfolded, a troubling headline caught my eye one rainy morning: Dengue cases on the rise, one life lost. The news sent a chill down our spines, especially for those of us working tirelessly in the department. All the workers were summoned to the municipality office. 

 

The screeching tyres halted the car in front of our office. The local Corporator, Ayyub Khan, got down. He stormed into our office, looked at us angrily, and started shouting.

 

"You sons of bi**hes, what have you been doing? Why is the Dengue spreading? Do you know how bad it is for your department? "

 

One of the workers said in a meek voice, "Sir, it's the rainy season. We are doing everything according to our plan. People should also take some measures. …"

 

By the time the worker had finished his words, the Corporator slapped him hard on his cheeks. 

 

"You mo**f**kers, don't talk back to me. Do what you can and stop from getting this spread further. Or I will dismiss your department immediately."

 

Saying this, he left. 

 

This incident created a stir at the office. The entire team was upset. We were not upset about getting reprimanded by the boss, but we were upset with how he hurled abuses at us. Some of us wanted to quit our jobs immediately, but only then did we realize how 'poor' we were.

 

After this incident, Kishore, one of my colleagues, a good friend, and I were having tea in a small hotel. I remember Kishore cussing his life, 'What is this life? Anyone can come and sneer at us and threaten to fire from the job. It is always better to be born into a wealthy family or be associated with a rich family.' These lines had a particular impact on me subconsciously. 

****

 

When I arrived home the next evening, an unusual silence hung in the air, thick with mystery. Confused by the atmosphere, I turned to my sister for answers. It was then that she revealed our maternal uncle, Manik, had paid us a visit. Known for his cunning ways and knack for manipulation, Manik always had an agenda behind his interactions. Little did I know, this visit would have a drastic impact on my life.

 

He met my mother with a proposal to get his last daughter married to me. My mother, who was reluctant to this proposal initially, thought about it for a while after some convincing points from my uncle, Manik. His convincing points were: 1) Your son's income is less, and marrying my daughter will give him some piece of my land and significant security for their future. 2) They have known each other since childhood. You also know my daughter from childhood. What else do you want?

 

We were having dinner at night, and the silence took the form of words from my mother. 'I don't have anyone except you two and my brother. Today, my brother came up with a proposal. He wants you and his daughter Malini to get married. He searched a lot and, in the end, found that you both would be a great match. As it will give you financial security and a great life, he wants you two to get married at any cost.' 

 

I broke my silence after some time. 'What's the hurry for marriage? And how can you say that Malini is suitable for me? She is from a village, and I was born and raised in a city. Our ways are very different. It won't work out between us.'

 

My mother said, 'It's not like that. She is your uncle's daughter—a correct match for you. If we say no, your uncle said he'd never meet me again. Please don't be the reason for that.'

 

To avoid the topic, I just concluded with 'Let's see."

 

With a mind full of thoughts, I slept. I woke up with a fresh feeling as if no such discussion ever happened. My schedule resumed as usual. I went to meet Smitha. I couldn't speak to her clearly because of the debate at home. She sensed I wasn't talking freely and asked for the reason. I said, 'Nothing's like that; everything's good.' The thought of losing her was frightening. 

 

No one knew about Smitha and our relationship except for a few of my colleagues.

 

After a week, my uncle, Manik, came home again. This time, I was also at home. He asked, 'What happened, sister? What happened, son? What did you guys think?'

 

Mother said, 'I already tried explaining it to Anand, but he won't listen.'

 

Uncle asked, 'Don't you like my daughter, Anand? Isn't she good?'

 

I explained with mustering some courage and patience, 'It's not like that. We are both born and raised in different ways; our thought processes are different. So, it won't work out between us. Please understand, uncle.' 

 

Uncle persuaded with some stress in his tone, 'Why won't it work between you? Do you think you are from a rich family? Don't forget that you hardly earn just two thousand per month for your living. Both of your futures will be good if you guys marry.' 

 

I couldn't retaliate with the same energy as him, so I said softly, 'Leave it, uncle; it won't work out between us.'

 

He finally ended the conversation with a threat, 'Take time and think properly about it. If you disagree, there won't be any relation left between your mother and me.' 

 

Mother started to cry, saying, 'Don't do like that, son, don't be the reason for the separation between us. Please don't be a reason for separation between us.' 

 

I shouted at her, 'Mom, stop it. I am saying I don't like Malini. It won't work between us. Why are you guys forcing me?'

 

The uncle left, giving an ultimatum of ten to fifteen days to decide between the wedding and losing the relationship. 

 

The very premise of emotional blackmail is: If you don't agree to my demands, I will harm myself, which will, in turn, harm you too. I was subject to this pure emotional blackmail. When I think of those days now, I can understand how pressurizing these kinds of incidents can be for the youth. The surprising thing is that the aged, who only think logically, never understand the emotional pain and the lifelong impacts the young go through because of this blackmail. 

 

I was very confused, though the problem was simple: Smitha or Malini?

 

The following day, there was one more death related to Dengue in the city. The Corporator came again and took us by a whirl of verbal abuse and threats of firing. I felt like he knew only this kind of brute motivation. Once again, it was a very demotivating episode for us. 

 

The crises at home and the office made my thinking very unclear. And in those times, friends try to give some sane advice, which might actually be brutal. My friend Kishore and I were having tea at a small hotel.

 

He looked at me and asked, 'What happened, Anand? Don't overthink about it. This is all part and parcel of life. Just listen to it and leave it.'

 

I said, 'It's not only about the office.'

 

Kishore asked, 'What's the problem at home?'

 

I told about the thing that was tormenting me, 'My uncle wants to get his daughter married to me. He threatened that he would never meet my mother if I disagreed. And my mother is going crazy at home.'

 

Kishore asked, 'Do you mean the uncle who lives in the village and has some land to his name?'

 

I nodded a yes. 

 

Kishore said, 'Then where is the problem? You should marry her.'

 

I said, 'The problem is I met a girl, Smitha. I have known her for some time. We have fallen in love with each other. She is a great person; I don't want to miss her.'

 

Kishore explained things from his point of view. 'You look at our lives. Is this called life? There is no respect for our job; the earnings are so low. Who would like to stay in this mess forever? You are getting a visa to get out of it. Love is not for the poor. You should agree with your mother and uncle.' 

 

I said, 'I don't like Malini. I am in love with Smitha.'

 

Kishore asked, 'What's love? You are feeling good talking to a young girl. That's it. During their youth, everyone feels good talking to a person of the opposite sex who is attractive. And they name that feel-good feeling as love. Blinded by this feeling, they forget to think about the future. Anyway, the decision is yours.'

 

This was the most pessimistic advice he gave as a friend. He almost erased the feeling of love from the world and my mind for a few minutes. 

 

After that, though I met Smitha, I wasn't paying attention to her. I couldn't share any of these things with her, fearing what she might think or how she might react. 

 

I made a plan to escape this mess. I didn't return home for two days, thinking that it would make my mother understand how badly I didn't want this marriage to happen. I was staying at a friend's place. And on the third day, my sister called me at my office. She scolded me badly saying that the mother's health was not good and that she was suffering from pain in her chest. Though my mother was in the hospital, I didn't know how much of this pain episode was true. I returned to her. Life was turning tragic with each passing day. The emotional blackmail continued.

 

When I met her in the hospital, my mother started to cry, 'Why are you doing this? I am getting pain in the chest? I think I am going to die. Why are you not listening to me?' I couldn't say anything. 

 

Manik uncle's phone calls continued to inquire about my decision. Elders think controlling a youth is akin to putting reins on a bull. Both resist initially, but we can control them for life once it is done. 

 

After a few days, I met my educated uncle, Baba, who always guided me during difficult times. I explained everything to him. He thought for a while and asked, 'What's the girl's caste?'

 

When I told him it was different from ours, he said, 'Kulam paadaalu tala meeda… Caste's footwear should always be over our head.' This was his point of view. It was as if the entire universe was turning against me. But I persuaded him by telling him how important Smitha was to me and my lack of interest in marrying Malini. 

 

He finally agreed to help me by speaking to my mother and maternal uncle. He also promised that he wouldn't say anything about Smitha immediately. I was relieved, thinking that this is what differentiates the educated from the uneducated. The educated always listen, understand, and even change opinions based on reasoning; the uneducated always rant about what they want. 

 

The next few days were a bit relieving as Baba took the pain to explain things to my mother and crazy maternal uncle. They had massive respect for Baba, as he was working as a high school principal. My mother couldn't refuse anything he said. My maternal uncle asked us all to come home to discuss it once before calling it off. Baba and I thought discussions brought things to a fair agreement. We agreed to that discussion. 

 

My mother, sister, Baba, and a few more relatives and I booked a jeep to travel to the village. I was excited at the thought that all of this would end soon. 

 

After reaching and settling down in the front room of Manik uncle's home, Malini served us some tea and snacks. That was a plan by Manik uncle so that everyone could get a good look at her. All the members of Manik uncle's family behaved very well. Baba, Manik uncle, and my mother had a general talk and slowly approached the primary discussion. Baba was good at convincing them by telling them why it was not good. He gave reasons like unhealthy kids born due to consanguineous marriage with some examples where it really happened. Also, marriage should be based on two people's mutual likes and respect; we can't force it, and it won't be good in the long future. They also received his talk respectfully, occasionally making the discussion funny and lighter. And finally, the meeting came to an end. We started to leave. 

 

Our giant four-wheeler, Tavera, slowly moved out of the narrow lane in front of my Uncle's house in his village. After driving for one or two streets, I realized I had forgotten my wallet in my uncle's house, one of the worst things that could happen to a prospective groom! As it would be a problem to turn the vehicle and go all the way to my uncle's home, I said I would bring it as I was not afraid of my Uncle anymore; this was stupid courage. I couldn't take anyone with me as all the elderly people just came to be spectators; they were full of useless relatives listening to the music in the vehicle except Baba. 

 

I walked into the home again. Manik uncle was still there. I took my wallet. I was about to leave. He asked me to wait for a moment and sit with him. As things were clear, I didn't feel anything wrong sitting with him. 

 

His talk was very sweet this time. 'You see, son, how happy this gathering was. Did you see how happy your mother was? That's the power of good and healthy relationships. I really don't know even now why you refuse to marry my daughter. 'Is she not good?' he asked.

 

I said, 'There is nothing like that. Malini is good, but we are not a good match for each other.'

 

He asked, 'If she is good, why are you rejecting her?' He continued his persuasion, 'I will give you my daughter. I will give you a good amount of money as a dowry. Tell me how much you want. Two lakhs or three lakhs? I will also write a small piece of land in your name.'

 

I said, 'It's not like that uncle.'

 

He continued, 'Wealthless life is a respectless life. Why do you want to live in difficulty when I am offering you a shortcut to happiness?'

 

I thought about the cussing Kishor, 'You look at our lives. Is this called life? There is no respect for our job; the earnings are so low. Who would like to stay in this mess forever? You are getting a visa to get out of it. Love is not for the poor. You should agree with your mother and uncle.'

 

I felt Kishore and my Uncle were both correct, and I was acting foolishly by rejecting this proposal. My uncle almost hypnotized me under the spell of persuasion. 

 

Uncle Manik continued, 'I don't want you to miss a grand opportunity. As your uncle, I want you to be happy, secure, and financially strong. Just say yes to this. Things will change amazingly for good. ' 

 

I couldn't say anything this time. Greed is a powerful hypnotizer, and this time, my uncle had me engulfed in it. 

 

'Don't think about anything else. I will take care of everything. Just say yes', Manik uncle almost convinced me. 

 

I didn't say anything. The question in my mind was no more 'Smitha or Malini?'; it got changed to 'Smitha or Money?'. A firm NO got hidden somewhere deep inside me and didn't erupt out. It just stayed there. Neither a strong YES came, but silence is treated as half acceptance. Manik uncle was quick to approve my silence as a yes. He called the Jeep full of my people back, saying this news. He sent his sons to buy a new saree for my would-be. 

 

In a few minutes, the atmosphere in the home changed to all smiles, laughter, and celebration. The newly ignited greed inside me let everything happen. It hid its motive of quick money deep inside me and painted it with a superficial layer of thoughts such as 'look at all the happy faces, do you want to make them suffer again?', 'You know Malini from childhood. What's her mistake in this?', 'Smitha will understand my situation and will forgive me.'

 

So I got betrothed to Malini. Baba said nothing about my decision; I thought he left it up to me. He must have felt that I had realized the importance of family and relatives and changed my mind. 

 

From here, things moved quite quickly. The wedding date was also fixed, just a month away. 

 

We returned home. Being betrothed was a big thing in those days, especially for the girl's family. Everyone in the community, like friends and relatives, knew that Malini and I got engaged. Moving back will shatter her family's name. I understood that I had reached a point of not moving back. 

 

The only thing left was telling Smitha about my decision. One of the most difficult things is breaking someone's heart by telling a bitter truth they thought would never happen. I was scared to face Smitha. But I mustered the courage to meet her and tell things as they were so I could at least give her a fair send-off. She had no role in any of these things. Only the innocent become the scapegoats. 

 

After a couple of days, I met Smitha. We were sitting in the bakery, our regular spot. By looking at me, she could sense that I was disturbed. She asked me what was bothering me. She wasn't worried much because she trusted me so much that I wouldn't do anything stupid with her. 

 

Tension hung heavy in the air, then I broke the suffocating silence, 'My mother has been emotionally blackmailing me by saying that she would hurt herself if I don't marry her brother's daughter. This has been going on for months now. I tried to explain to her as much as possible, but she won't listen. Recently, she was admitted to the hospital due to pain in her chest. I don't know what to do. Life has been like hell for me.'

 

Smitha's eyes widened in shock, fear etching lines of worry across her face. 'Anand, I am really sorry for your mother. But this came as a surprise for me. Why haven't you told me about it all these days? Do you want me to speak to her and explain… and explain how much we love each other?'

 

'She is stubborn. She won't listen to anyone. She is being blackmailed by her brother that if this marriage doesn't happen, their relationship will come to an end, and they will never speak to each other. It went into a huge fight, and finally, all my family, extended family, and relatives have been pressing me to accept it. It has gone too far now.' I said.

 

'Do you like your uncle's daughter?' Smitha asked straightly, her face about to turn to tears.

 

'She is a good person as far as I know. But I don't like her.', I said. 

 

'Then, if you don't like her, why don't you say no to her and explain patiently to everyone.' She said with tears in her eyes.

 

'I have been doing that. But things are not coming to an end; they are repeating in the same pattern. My mother's health is deteriorating each day because of this stressful situation. I am worried that if something happens to her for real, I will feel guilty for the rest of my life.' I said.

 

Smitha was silent for a few moments. 

 

Then she asked, 'What do you want to do? What will make you happy? What do you want me to do to keep you happy?'

 

I was silent for some time. 

 

'Things have gone too far. My entire family wants me to get married to Malini. They are already speaking about the dates. I am worried about my mother.' I felt like my greed was making me talk in an automatic mode. 

 

'Still, it doesn't answer my question. Tell me, what do you want to do now?' Smitha asked with a bit of stress. 

 

'I am not sure. You tell me, Smitha, what should I do in this situation after things come to a point where there is no turning back?' I said, greed was also making me diplomatic. 

 

'I don't know. I am not sure about any of these things. But I know one thing for sure. I want you to always be happy. If you have to leave me for that, I am okay with it. I will handle it myself. I will be sad for some days, but I will be okay later,' she cried. 

 

'I don't want you to worry anymore because I am here to understand your situation. Your mother's health is really important. You go ahead and marry Malini, that’s her name, right? But make sure that you are always happy.', Smitha said; I think love made her talk. Only the people who love can make sacrifices without any selfishness. 

 

I was silent. I didn't say anything to comfort her, which was a message that I was helpless. 

 

'So, is this our last meeting?' she asked with tears in her eyes.

 

I was silently looking at her. We almost forgot that we were in the small bakery, the same bakery where we had met for the first time, and we had some delicious food with the little money we had, and we felt on top of the world.

 

She got up, kissed my cheek, and said, 'Be happy, Anand.' She walked away crying, never to be seen again. 

 

I sat for some time. I felt like a killer who had just killed the heart of an honest lover. 

 

I met Kishore and talked about everything. He was sad and happy, too, and he thought I made a wise decision. 

 

I could come out of Smitha's thoughts in a couple of days. I felt a little relieved as things were clear. 

 

Soon, the wedding happened. I married Malini. The same Malini who is your mother, dear Neil. 

 

I tried my best to mingle with Malini. But there was some kind of barrier between us. We never appreciated each other. We never liked each other. She used to say sharply, 'Why did you marry me if you didn't like me?' I never told her about Smitha. Somehow, the life I had chosen was going on. 

 

Slowly, there were a few more add-ons. To my surprise, Malini could not mingle with her aunt, my mother. They had arguments over every small thing. My sister had problems with both my wife and mother. Somehow, the equation among all three was not correct. I was at the centre of an incomplete triangle; they were the three vertices that would never meet. 

 

I was young and foolish then. After letting a breakup tear me apart, it was the family's turn. I didn't understand how much all this was shattering my peace of life. I was unable to control anyone in the family; I was unable to control myself, too. 

 

I would shout for every slight reason. My wife and my mother would do the same. My sister will keep quiet. She will watch everything and do something that will make us all shout at each other again. It went on in circles. 

 

All these impacted my work, too. I was always late and not focusing on my work. I told Kishore about these things. He said, 'You have seen only the first month; there is much more to see, my friend. This is common in everyone's life. Get used to it.' I felt like kicking him for all the advice he had given. 

 

Malini was missing something in me and my family. We could never understand what it was. For the most minor things, she would call her father and brothers and tell them we were not treating her well. They would come often to talk about it. Sometimes, my brothers-in-law held my collar and threatened to beat me. It all looked so bad to me.

 

I almost hated my life every day.

 

Sometimes, I thought about Smitha. Would things have been the same if she were in Malini's place? She always kept me at the centre of her universe and planned things. Did I let the blessing slip away only to embrace a curse? I was really disturbed.

 

The hell continued. 

 

During our discussions regarding Malini's proposal from my uncle, Baba used to say, 'It's a bitter truth. When a man and a woman stay in a single room for two or three months, they will eventually have children in a year, whether they love each other or not.' His saying was right. Malini gave birth to you. We became parents almost in a year. Looking at you was the most joyful moment of my life. Your innocent and cute smiles gave me a new energy. However, this energy was soon dissipated by the negative energies at home. 

After a couple of days, with the arrival of one particular bad news, the hell turned into absolute hell.

 

One evening, I met Kishore. Kishore looked dull, too. I told him about how my life would have been if Smitha had been there. This time, he understood my words to some extent. He didn't have any more vague answers. This time, he looked serious. I asked him what it was. 

 

He handed over a letter to me. 'Smitha's sister gave this letter to me to hand over to you. Smitha is dead', he said. 

 

I couldn't understand any of it. I felt like some big bell was ringing in my ears. 'What are you talking about?' I demanded. 

 

'Please read the letter,' he said sadly and walked away. 

 

It was an evening. I was standing near a bus stop. I opened the letter. It read something like this. 

 

Hi Anand,

 

I hope you are happy. I am not angry at you at all. You are a good person. I understand your situation. The quarrels at your home and the struggles in your life made you take this decision. And I respect your decision. You should always be happy.

 

The best experience of my life is meeting you. All our meetings reside in my mind like beautiful memories. 

 

But there is a small problem at my end. I can't imagine anyone in your place, and I can't connect to anyone anymore like I did with you.

 

You can live without me, but for me, every second without you or without your thoughts is just lifelessness. So, I have taken this decision to end my life – a life that doesn't exist anymore.

 

I am writing this letter not to make you feel guilty but to say that you are in no way responsible for it. 

 

I just want you to stay happy with whatever life you have chosen in your life. 

 

Lots of love, 

Smitha

 

I was totally lost by the end of the letter. It was such deeply shocking news that it immediately shattered me internally. I was unable to feel myself. The mind, possessed by love while in a relationship with Smitha, was filled with greed while marrying Malini. Now, the same mind was filled with deep guilt. Only guilt was more powerful and destructive.   And it was severely hurting me. 

 

In such pain, I couldn't find any meaning in my life, and I didn't understand how to deal with it. I just walked a long way—almost two days—and had nothing. I sat near temples, thinking sadly but not coming to any conclusions. 

 

Kishore kept an eye on me, but he didn't disturb me. He thought grieving could slowly subside the pain caused by the grief. When my family members called, he managed them by saying I am with friends and colleagues.

 

Finally, I sat near a temple for one whole night. The night slowly transformed into a day when the stars said goodbye. It made little difference. Everything was the same; only light came and went, and came again. This morning, slowly, I heard the prayers from a school. 

 

   

Give us the strength of heart

By which we can win over ourselves

Before winning over others

 

People say that we listen to the music of a song when we are happy, and we pay attention to the lyrics when we are sad. I was listening to the lyrics of the song. I was thinking about its deeper meaning. I desperately needed strength of heart to live. I was lost in thoughts, and I was asking God to give me more strength. I used to hear the same song with a feeling of independence before meeting Smitha. I used to enjoy the song's rhythm and music then. I thought of regaining that fresh feeling again, but the thought of Smitha's end was still hurting me. I didn't understand how to rise again.

 

Trying to comfort my heavy heart, I helped move my footsteps towards home. When I reached home, I saw my mother, then Malini, then my sister. As I went further, I saw you; you were trying to crawl and stand with the support of a wall.

 

In those darkest times, I felt like you were the only source radiating life at me. You smiled at me. I felt like a new life sprang out of me. I hugged you immediately. I held you like that for some time and cried my heart out. I let the tears melt the guilt in my heart. I felt like the power that can absolve my sins was hidden only in your smile. You hugged me warmly in your tender arms. Might be the pure hearts forgive and cleanse the hearts of the sinners in no time. You were emanating new life into me. That day, I was alive because of you. That day, I was born again fresh. Things finally became clear again.

****

 

I contemplated for a few days about what went wrong in my life. I understood that I let go of Smitha, who loved me for the greed of money. The very foundation of my new life with Malini was wrong. Smitha loved me; she was loyal to me. Loyalty will not let you breathe without the person you love the most.

 

The past cannot be changed. But I thought I couldn't live by blaming myself forever. So I made my bitter experience into a lesson called 'Loyalty.'

Loving someone means being loyal to someone. It means that one will always be there for that person by keeping one's self-interests aside. I was not loyal to Smitha as I was working on my selfish interests of money, whereas Smitha was loyal to me; she always thought of my happiness and comfort, though it was hurting her. Selfless love is loyalty, the greatest thing anyone can possess for the ones they love.  

 

Neelakantha, when you were less than a year old, I firmly resolved in my heart that you are the guiding compass in my life, and you are my destination, too. My sole ambition was to look after you wholeheartedly, love you, and not give up on that love for anything else. To keep you happy, I will do anything; I will even move the mountains, which I did eventually. To give the best of the things to you was my goal. You gave clarity to my life and redefined it. I decided to always love and always be loyal to you.

_________________________________

 

As I flipped through my father's book, memories flooded back, making me feel like a kid again. Even though I'm all grown up now, reading about his life was like going on an exciting adventure back in time.

 

Learning about Smitha, Dad's first love, was eye-opening. It showed me that he had faced his fair share of challenges. I couldn't help but admire how he had dealt with them and come out stronger.

 

Realizing that Dad cared deeply for me filled me with warmth. It reminded me of the special connection we shared, even though he wasn't always around.

 

Thinking back to my childhood, I remembered Dad as my hero. Those memories are still so vivid and colorful, like beautiful paintings waiting to be hung on a wall. His love and sacrifices have shaped my life, but I still wonder why he left.

 

While reflecting on Dad's words, thoughts of Emma and our baby-to-be crossed my mind. I reached out to her for our decision about aborting, but her response left me feeling uncertain, just like I was.

 

Despite feeling lonely at times, Dad's stories breathed new life into me. With a newfound energy, I turned the page, eager to find the glimmer of ‘Hope’ that lay ahead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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