Creation

                     It was raining heavily; the wiper arm was pounding down the rain-water from my windshield. Blinking of the hotel’s display board in front of my car was nettling my mind. I started hearing them from everywhere, the voices. They continuously echoed in my head. They were asking me to to turn around my car and get inside her room. Another voice was saying not to go back and leave this thing here only. Don’t go back silly, don’t go back. I turn around my car and raced my car towards her apartment. Each step I was taking towards her flat was reminding me of all those moment we spend with each other. I started banging down the shut doors of her house. She came out and was stunned seeing me at her place at wrong time when she was with wrong person. As I saw Aditya coming out of the room, I took out the gun from my pocket and pointed on him. Neha started screaming, since it was thunder night, no neighbour came-out to help her. I was pointing gun at him, suddenly I felt vibration in my pockets. I again started hearing the voices, but these voice were singing, a bollywood song. Oh shit, I am dreaming. My mobile was ringing; I kept alarm on 10:00am to wake up earlier this morning. I took out the mobile from my pocket and turn down the alarm. I opened my eyes, first thing I saw was Casper, my dog, shaking his tail and looking at me with bend head as if he knows what I saw.

                It has been more than a month that I have not waked up this early in morning; all this month I was feeling lazy and my room was a big mess. I took some of the cereals and feeded my dog. Someone knock the door, Casper was still seating calmly and was eating his food. Seriously, hungry dog can never be loyal. I opened the door, but no one was there. I saw glimpse of shadow moving towards the staircase. I ajar the door and moved towards the staircase. I reached the terrace, there I saw a guy standing at a corner with cigarette in his hand. I thought he must be guy from another flat spending his lone time. I smiled at him and was about to move. Of a sudden, that guy waved his hand towards me and said, ‘Hey Rajiv, how are you?’ I was not able to recall his name, he look like a normal young guy. Mid-sized hair, small eyes and fair skin tone wearing white Lenin shirt and blue jeans. Sorry, I’m not able to recognize you, I said. He laughed out vigorously and said, “How can you forget me after stealing my story.” I was amazed, what he’s talking about? Which story? Who is this guy? I asked him to make it clear what he’s talking about. “My name is Chetan, you have written my story in your blog couple of months before. You revealed entire secret about my wife Vishaka’s personal life and her extra-marital affair. You bastard, you made me ashamed before entire society. I’m not able to face people; you ruined my entire impression on people.”

Oh boy! I was not aware that my blogs are too popular, that it can ruin life of other person. He was talking about my post titled as ‘Girl who played’, one of my favourite but was never appreciated until this moment. This guy was Chetan, whose wife in story betrays him for his ex-boyfriend. But, how can it be possible that I have written his real story. This is height of co-incidence that name of characters is same as of my post and same incidents happen to them as I have mentioned in my blog.  It’s not possible it was creation of my mind, fiction story; it has nothing to do with someone’s life. I contradicted his claims. I made myself clear I don’t know you and your personal life. Chetan reacted, “You have to compensate for all those losses you did in my life.”I laughed at him, any stranger accidently read my blog, will claim that I stole his story, have revealed his life story and made his life a living hell, now that stranger is asking for compensation. He got annoyed, pulled my collar and said, “Dude, you don’t know the pain you have given it to me, either compensate or I know many ways to make your life miserable. You are left with few hours.” He pushed me back and left. I pinched myself and confirmed that I’m not dreaming again. That sucker has destroyed my morning; I came down to my room and switched on the music. Cleaned the room and again continued reading Mario Puzo’s Godfather, which I left last night.

Next morning, I awoke early. The light of dawn made my bedroom bright. Far down at the foot of my bed was having an unfamiliar shape, something was kept beneath the blanket. I pull out the blanket and what I saw made me physically ill. My heart started bounding faster, sweat made my entire body wet. Within a moment, I vomited on the thick rug. Severed from its body, the white silky head of my Casper was stuck fast in a thick cake of blood.

Next to it, I saw letter kept between the pages of Godfather. ‘Even I can blow you, without any words of warning just like yours Don Corleone. Will meet you soon.Tc.’


story continues....