Author: Santosh Jha

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to keep the questions alive, as answers would come later. I want to tell him, now I have all the answers.”

“Melissa, you cannot call him. He is not available on his Indian number. In fact, his leaves were suddenly cancelled and he had to come back to resume his classes in the college. That is why, I had to fabricate the story about Acharya’s illness. He is fine and in his Rishikesh ashram. Shiv is not with him. He arrived a day before you here and right now, he is probably sleeping in the guest room in the basement.”

“Melissa jumps on the bed with joy. She hugs her dad. He is too happy for his empress. Melissa rushes downstairs but stops before the door of the guest room. She gathers herself, waits to calm her breathe and suddenly feels a bit shy. Slowly, she moves and pushes the doors. It is open. She moves in to find Shiv sleeping on the bed. She carefully and slowly sneaks into his blanket. She inches close to him to ensure he remains sleeping. She feels his breath on her face. He looks so beautiful. She gently kisses him on his lips. Shiv can no more feign his sleep. He opens his eyes smiling at her. She cannot face his eyes. She buries her face in his chest. He pulls her close to him.

After a while, Shiv realizes, he has to complete something, which he had left unaccomplished.

“Melissa; once there was a princess, who kissed a frog and he turned into a prince. The prince then proposed to the princess. Now that you have kissed me, it is my turn to propose. Will you marry me?”

“No!”

“Why?”

“Dad has told me everything. I made you my husband 22 years back and look how long we have been married. It is time I think ahead and look for babies. This all happened because of you Shiv. You are such a bad husband. Had you reminded me of our marriage earlier, I would have graduated from a wife to a mother by now!”

Shiv is happy that she is happy. He does not need to say sorry to her; she would not accept.

The singularities of life have elemental eccentricities of happening and un-happening; almost as weird and randomized as love. The elements of one’s own life and that of the equally precarious milieus are both patterned as well as un-patterned. The juxtaposition of symmetrical possibilities amid the larger probabilistic asymmetry of arbitrary milieus engender such beautiful marvels of life-living experiences, which people can accept only in one way – the destiny! The true and lasting relationship can happen only between similar and generic elements. Destinies shape this way. What destiny has in store for all of us shall be decided not by factors outside in our near and far milieus, rather by what we finally accepts as something, which is our own internal positioning of consciousness. The moment, we accept, love happens and destiny is signed in.

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Accept My Gratitude

Writing something is a daunting task as there is always a lurking apprehension of it not being in utility for some readers. I however feel at ease, because of my faith in magnanimity of readers. I am happily sure; you shall forgive if my efforts could not be up to your expectations. Thank you so much for being with me and allowing me to share with you. Big thanks for your precious input in my charity, as all proceeds from my book sales go to charitable initiatives. Wish you an empowered life; with the prosperity of the consciousness.

About The Author

People say, what conspire to make you what you finally become are always behind the veil of intangibility. Someone called it ‘Intangible-Affectors’. Inquisitiveness was the soil, I was born with and the seeds, these intangible-affectors planted in me made me somewhat analytical. My long stint in media, in different capacities as journalist, as brand professional and strategic planning, conspired too! However, I must say it with all innocence at my behest that the chief conspirators of my making have been the loads of beautiful and multi-dimensional people, who traversed along me, in my life journey so far. The mutuality and innocence of love and compassion always prevailed and magically worked as the catalyst in my learning and most importantly, unlearning from these people. Unconsciously, these amazing people also worked out to be the live theatres of my experiments with my life’s scripts. I, sharing with you as a writer, is essentially my very modest way to express my gratitude for all of them. In my stupidities is my innocence of love for all my beautifully worthy conspirators!

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