One Fine Sunday

 “Wake up dear its 10. How much are you going to sleep? Even kumbhakaran would have got complex if he would be alive now” mom was yelling from kitchen. It was not enough of cessation my sugar sleep that evil member of my family took charge to exasperate me by playing stupid basshunter’s song vociferously.

 “Stopover that non sense else I’ll smash your that music player you monster” I shouted at my younger brother by wrapping my head snugly by my super soft pillow. He did unerringly what he shouldn’t have done. He dragged my bed sheet and commenced exhorting “Di get up now, else I’ll have to call dad then he’ll see you better”. This was contravention of limits; he blackmailed me! I had to rouse nonetheless to retort him.

A Bitter Confession!!

I loved Ritika a lot and couldn’t risk losing her; this was my only chance to get her back forever. That’s why I did not tell her or involve her in any way. Not even the smallest hint. I made my plans alone and with perfect care. An “accident” so coolly and meticulously designed. Precisely at 04:40 in the afternoon, the ghastly accident would occur. And then my phone would ring – to convey the “bad” news. And suddenly I would be a free man.

Free, Liberated from shackles. Released from bondage. Then all I had to do was to keep cool, maintain a solemn façade, and wait for Ritika to return from Germany. Then after the customary condolence period was over, Ritika would propose to marry me – an act of chivalry, of sympathy, or even “self-sacrifice”. First I would demur, then “reluctantly” succumb to the pressure from my friends and relatives, and accept - just for my children’s sake. There would be nods of approval all around. And soon I and Ritika would be Husband and Wife.