THE REALM OF LOVE

A NOVEL…

MD. TAHA ALAM

 This novel is dedicated to someone special, whom my imagination has named as
Afreen, though this is not her actual name, but in the realm of my fancies she is
recognised only as my beautiful ‘Afreen’.

Dear Afreen,
The night I remember, I whirled you through the waltz, and my face brushed
against the warm fragrance of your hair. Though it was just a moment, but that moment
immersed me into the profound Ocean of Love and my heart surged above into the
firmament of blooming Love. A sensation of frivolity blended with incredulity streamed
through every channel of my veins and it felt like a wondrous delusion. My love for you
is immeasurable, and so I dedicate my most precious treasure to you…

No one, my Love, not even poets can imagine how much a heart can hold…

MD. TAHA ALAM

Then wear the golden hat, if that will move her,
If you can bounce high, bounce for her too,
Till she cries “oh! Lover, gold-hatted, high bouncing, lover,
I must have you”
-- THOMAS PARKE DE INVILLIERS

AUTHOR’S NOTES
 The Realm of Love is the wild passionate story of intense and almost severe love amid
Diana Roosevelt and Richard Smith. The character of Diana Roosevelt has been portrayed as a charismatic
and affluent model of England and a significant personality in the world of glamour. However, her personal
life is not embellished with the glitters of similar frivolity and lacks the colours of blitheness. But with the
introduction of the dashing central character, Richard Smith, an ordinary struggling author whose life is
itself solitary, brings back all the faded colours of Diana’s life and eventually, both the forlorn souls fall in
Love.
The novel has been written from the perspective of Richard Smith, who is deeply riveted into
the Ocean of Love, almost demonically and is willing to overstep any bounds of anguish to attain his love.
Circumstances has been induced in the novel, where Richard has to take severe decisions to conquer his
Love and spend his life with his beloved and he surpasses the limits of Conscience and commits an
iniquitous deed for his Desires. But tears are what is written in his fate and his eventual destiny is his own
doom…
This novel has a tragic ending which displays malignity of a human heart and the savagery of
this brutal world. The story is sated with betrayal and despair that’ll trickle a drop of tear as one flips over
the last page of the novel.
I have endeavoured to render sensation and weave an aura of profound Romanticism and also
exhibit the agony of remorse. My novel exhibits the power and influence of Mammon and the chaotic
ending of handling the emotion of Love with deep intensity. The action of the story is raving and
unremittingly violent, but the accomplished handling of a complex structure, the evocative description of a
passionate lover’s life and the poetic grandeur of vision combine to make this novel a masterpiece of my
creations…
MD. TAHA ALAM

Chapter I

That was the day when my life took a queer turn...

 I was sitting beside the window, pretty well disgusted with life. Long hours of
writing swelled my eyes and I was in a yearn of getting some sleep after the completion of the chapter
my novel was stuck upon. For a little while, I decided to halt my work and capped my pen. My break
was intended to be short, however it did not turn out so. Wretched and tired, I held the cup of coffee
kept beside, and sipped some of it, then leaned back on the chair and closed my eyes, with a notion to
provide a little peace to my nerves. I rubbed my eyes and slowly opened it. I caught the sight of the
outer world, then leaned forward and peeped out through the window and noticed that it was the Break
of Dawn. A sudden surge of admiration flowed through my emotions and I forgot my apprehensions;
for the morning was so soothing that replenished within me a new soul.
The sleeping city was what I could see concealed under the shrouds of morning –
the fog. The blue overcast sky shimmering with the golden rays of the new born sun and the fleecy
clouds settled at the horizon. The chirps of the birds struck my ears as music, and I parted apart the
panes to let the cool soft breeze, whistle through the window. I waved my hand across my hair and
then drew it out and felt the hazy moist air.
I was genuinely pacified and this appeasing beauty impinged within me a sense of
rejuvenation and a sudden urge ignited within me to break free from this confinement and enjoy its
alluring marvel to the fullest. And I found no reason to restrain myself to saunter out and breathe in,
the air of such scenic dawn. Looking out of the window, I pictured myself driving ecstatically, in my
roofless car, bewitched by the ravishing equanimity and peacefulness stirred in every phase of air that
shears across me.
And unable to repress my urge, I relinquished before my enticement and quitted my
seat and abandoned my work. Putting on the overcoat and clutching the key beneath my palm, I set
out for an undecided journey, completely oblivious of the queer game that the fate was to play with
me...
With the twist of the key, my journey commenced and I began to steer my way in my
roofless car through the uninhabited streets and avenues, inhaling the cool moist air of the endearing
morning, crossing through the music of the little creatures and the rustle of the leaves. The wheezing
breeze blowing against me, fluttering my hair and the pacific serenity all around gladdened me to the
very essence.
Crossing through the foggy lanes and whistling a meaningless note, I fleeted my
time away blithely in solitude and continued to drive until the clouds went pale and the dullness of the
rosy Sun morphed to little bright and gained some altitude, until the twitters of the birds lessened and
the blue sky turned grey. Until the obscurity of the fog decreased a trifle and until, my eyes caught the
sight of the only cafeteria that was open.
I, being a coffee addict, could not restrain this temptation of enjoying a cup of coffee
in the splendours of such a placid morning. And with such notion, I jerked my car before the cafeteria.
The place was shabby and quite desolate. However, little did it matter and clicking the door open, I
stepped out. I checked my pockets, and fortunate I was that I had enough cash to fulfil my desire. And
so, I ambled in the cafeteria and held a table amongst the many vacant ones. I wonder, I was the first
customer for the day, as the place was so isolated, that I could see not even a single soul wandering
around. But suddenly, I was appalled by a croaky male voice.
“mai’ ah’ help ya, suh’”
I turned aside in consternation. He was a shabby old man, maybe the owner of the cafeteria or the
assistant. Well, it hardly matters. I looked up at him and commenced “well! Yes” I said rubbing my
palms “I would like to have a cup of coffee. A strong one. Less sugar”
“st’rang, less sugah’, right” he repeated “just a minute”
Bidding me to wait, while the coffee was being prepared he vanished away, leaving me
alone, adoring the beauty of the nature. I desperately wish for such days, it soothes my frantic soul and
renders me an intrinsic pleasure that touches the chord of my bosom, when I can spend time with me
and my solitude. Queer it is, isn’t it? The inexplicable nature of humans, where at times, solitude
stifles us to death, while sometimes lets us breathe the air of sovereignty.
Days like such, lets me obliterate all my apprehensions and anxieties out from my mind
and lands me in a world away from all sorts of pines and fraught and dilemmas and illusions,
away…away from the vicious side of life, and closer to my own self. In a world, where resides only
calmness and serenity. Though shortly, but it does.
And with such beauteous thoughts, I accepted the coffee brought to me and began
sipping, when my eyes caught the sight of a grand black car, concealed somewhat under the obscurity
of the fog. But I could distinguish, that there sat a capital fellow inside; for the grandeur of the car was
the tongue of the owner’s capital. The car drove past me and out of my sight. I wonder what urgency
would have struck the owner’s psyche that awakened him at this point of time. Maybe the fellow
might be having a similar state of mind as I do. Maybe, like me, he too was an admirer of nature’s
beauty. Maybe our thoughts and opinions match, regarding such dawns. Maybe, who knows, what fate
brings when…
I was about to finish the coffee, only a bit of it was left. And at that instance, little was I
aware, that the coming moments would change the course of my life, forever…
I put down the coffee cup and placed the money on the table, and was ready to leave for
an unforeseen journey, when again the grunt of a car struck my ears. I looked around and everywhere,
and to my amazement, it was the same car that drove past me a couple of minutes ago. But this time, I
could see no such haste. Rather, it moved slowly and finally jerked before the cafeteria, beside my car.
I wondered, what on earth would have brought them here? Maybe the immortal lust of coffee, or just
to seek peace.
 Soon, the door clicked open, and the chauffeur stepped out. The glasses of the back
seat slid down and I could discern that there sat a lady inside. The chauffeur gently opened the door
for her. The lady stepped out; a lean figure emerged out of the fog, heading towards the cafeteria. She
was wearing a long overcoat and a muffler, rounding her neck. Her thin slender arms were concealed
under velvety white gloves, and a petite lady-like boots were striking the ground, as to make a hollow
noise. Her face was not distinct, but as she sauntered close, my eyes caught the sight of her angelic
features. By Jove! She was beautiful, my emotion bursted out when her sharp, perfect face met my
eyes. The beatific being held a seat pretty close to mine. And my pretension of flippancy followed.
But how was I supposed to command my eyes to halt the stare, when her long mahogany hair were
fluttering backwards, enlivening my senses. How much I wished I could dissolve in her lustrous skin,
to adore its beauty till eternity. How much I wished I could swim in her deep blue eyes, filled with
elysian serenity. How charismatic it appeared when her petite nose inflated with air and swelled her
bosom, when her thick lips, glistening as though kissed the water, twitched. Her slithering perfect
eyebrows raised a flight, and I continued to gaze at such an adorable piece of art, until my eyes
recognized her face. She was Diana Roosevelt, the top model of England, who has also appeared in
certain movies. I wondered the notion behind the presence of an uptown girl at such a downtown
place. Perhaps, she was an admirer of coffee, just like me. However I could discern from her
countenance, that she was not jovial, rather, a sullen remorse was what reigned over her visage.
Despite of my trials to conceal my elation and pretend rather relaxed, I could not notice any such
expression of hers, which were addressed to me. Rather, she appeared quite riveted in her own
thoughts.
London is scarce of such exulting beauties (I thought). I saw her eyes, noticing me,
but soon were diverted with the presence of that old man who placed the cup upon her table and
vanished away somewhere in the cafeteria, without taking much notice of her. She sipped some
volume, little by little and this continued until my conjecture morphed to belief. And I became certain
that there was something that was bothering her, upto an immeasurable extent.
She seemed agitated, which was pretty apparent, as she took off her gloves and rested
her head on her long slender fingers. She then lifted her head up and chewed her lips and her eyes
appeared watery, as though she was on the verge of bursting into tears. She then, suddenly rested her
head upon the table and her whole body began shuddering. It was evident that she was weeping
bitterly. I stared at her and made no efforts for consolation until it became excruciating for me to
tolerate this poignant prospect. And a gentleman spirit ignited within me and I gathered the courage to
walk close to her and stand beside her. With intense audacity, I caught her by her shoulder and asked
“may I help you, madam?”
Diana looked up at me. Her nose was red and her cheeks went rosy. Drops of tears
were trickling down ceaselessly from her watery deep blue eyes. She got up at once and whispered in
a broken subtle voice “leave me alone”. Squeezing her way aside me, she ran back to her car, wiping
her tears, leaving behind a melancholy heart, which was now, a victim of the unblemished poise which
exuded from this paradigm of beauty.

………………..…………………….

Chapter II

I had been reading it for long, reading the personal diary of Diana Roosevelt. In the
morning, I remember, she walked away, leaving behind this diary. Maybe, a purposed gesture, or just
an accident; I remained ignorant. However, it was not an amusing experience, to flip over the pages
and discern each dark secret, embedded in her life, for her life was not as I expected it to be. It was
such that dispirited me, after its revelation - ‘desolate’ the perfect word that suits what I had read.
Never had I even conjectured such a dismal truth, of a being like her. It was lamentable, the condition
of her heart, which, I suppose, was wailing with earnest tears.
I shut the diary and caught my chin and began to ruminate the causes of those tears
bursting out of her beautiful eyes, which I suppose was probably because of a man named Henry
Earnshaw, to whom her father had intended her to marry. Though I was not certain, but I could make
it out, for she expressed all contemptuous thoughts about the fellow. A certain sense of sullen morose
descended over my countenance and over my psyche. I would have never guessed, such a solitary
heart of a celebrity like Diana, until my fate got me this diary, which unveiled the tragic life,
concealed beneath the jovial glittering face. A weeping heart buried under the glistening skin, and a
desolate soul, masked beneath the charming features. Yes, she was an epitome of beauty, but I doubt,
the world has returned her, her desired beauty – peace.
I began to feel as if I knew her. The diary whispered to me her thoughts and feelings
and the miserable phases of life that has sheared across her in recent times. She was no acquaintance
of mine; still, I felt intense compassion, regarding her woeful condition. What was it, I remained
oblivious, but I was aware, that it was the beginning of a new, ‘anonymous’ relationship.
I sulked, then rubbed my eyes, and looked out. Night had fallen and a thin mist
pressed against the panes. The wind seemed calm and my intention of returning her the diary
weakened a trifle. It was my idleness, of course, that restrained me to forward my steps out of my
house and slay my indolence at a cosy night like such. However, I blamed my idleness to the weather,
which was perfect, but made unfeasible by my indolence. But then I was provoked by my conscience,
and I began to consider it against my scruples, not to return her possession. And so, wearing my
overcoat, I set out to analyse the weather.
It was rather misty and the wind was not as calm as I conjectured it to be. Icicles
were blowing along with the wind, which seemed pretty harsh. Though journeying through the streets
would not be impossible, but my temperament did not at all favour travelling at this point of time.
However my conscience did not allow me to rest either, and there stood a dilemma between the two,
amongst which, after thinking analytically, I favoured my temperament and sauntered back to my
house to enjoy the cosy night.
And how better could have I made its use rather than crouching beneath the blanket
and enjoying a novel, with the flavours of coffee. I suppose that the dozes of literature are the best
companion in solitude, it relieves one’s senses. Literature stands prior in my choice of subjects and
this is the reason I chose my career as writing. I sometimes imagine myself as a literary figure, then
wonder, will this imagination ever morph to reality. Maybe it does, who knows, I’ll be the Fitzgerald
of the coming age. After all, nobody has ever discerned the inscrutable providence.
And with such exulting thoughts, I continued reading. And I read for long, for
almost a couple of hours, probably. It stretched longer than usual and I had even skipped the dinner.
However I was not hungry and had no such notion of dining now. All I required was a little sleep. And
so, tired with the long hours of reading, I yawned and kept the novel beside and switched off the light
and cringed beneath the blanket. Though it took me quite long to get dissolved in the land of dreams,
but I did, quite sooner than usual days. Indistinct dream were coming and as usual, nothing sweet or
special. However, not a morsel do I remember, but would be pleased to continue in this state, until the
dawn appears. But my yearn was not fulfilled, for my senses awakened much before the dawn.
It was almost an hour past midnight, and I was lying awake upon my bed, anxious
by the pattering of rain, assailing upon the panes. The pitter-patters were exceptionally vigorous and
stood as a brutal foe of my sleep. I turned aside, and observed out from the window and murmured
‘damn!’ It was raining vehemently and there was no way it would stop before an hour or so or maybe
more. And unequipped before the nature’s potency, I perceived ‘endurance’ as the only route that I
could pursue. I was irritated to the core, by this unabstainable vicious brute. And with such notion, I
crouched back in my blanket, when suddenly I felt as if I heard someone’s splashing footsteps outside.
I wondered who might be outside at a point of time, which does not at all favour a soul wandering
along this remote street, until it actually is a soul. However little did it matter to me and ignoring it to
the wildest of all possibilities, I tried to close my eyes, when suddenly, I was alarmed by a hard knock
at my door. I threw off the blanket and hastily put on the gown, pretty anxious, for I had no such
acquaintance that is as close to me, as to knock my door at such a queer moment. Indeed, it was the
queerest knock I would have had for… as far as I could recall back. And walking up to the door, I
clicked it open.
A red-faced little fellow stood in front of me. His dressing reminded me of the navy
or military…something of that sort. His hat was completely wet and uniform was totally soaked by
rain. The face seemed familiar; however, I could not properly recall who he actually was. And so, in a
hesitant tone I asked “how may I help you?”
The man seemed anxious and quite in a hurry and hastily insisted “first let me in, please”
Looking at the vigour of the rain, I invited him and asked him to have a seat, undecidedly. The man
reclined himself on the chair and so did I. And thus the conversation began.
“Well! Sir” he commenced “I had no intention to disturb your sleep; actually the matter was such that
I had to come”
I nodded.
“Ah! Its okay” I said politely “please proceed”
“If you remember, sir” he said “today in the morning at the cafeteria…” he insinuated, when I
suddenly recognised his face and his uniform, which was not of navy or army, but of a chauffeur. The
man was the chauffeur of Diana Roosevelt.
“Oh! Well!” I exclaimed “you’re Ms. Roosevelt’s chauffeur, right?”
A sudden spark of relief encountered his face, as if I had helped him escape the explanation.
“You’ve got a remarkable memory, sir” he complemented
“Oh! Thank you” I said “by the way, what brought you here?”
“Well! Sir, I shall be very polite” he continued “my madam thinks that, in the morning, she had left
her diary on the table, and wished to know, whether you have picked it up or not.”
He spoke the last sentence with a sudden haste. However, I was a little vexed by the choice of his
words, but the art of conversation, that I suppose, he had mastered, melted me a trifle. But then I was
afraid, I began to consider it as a loss of opportunity to meet Diana, if I rendered him the diary, and so,
I replied that I did not have any such diary of which he was talking about.
“Are you sure, sir?” he asked, with a surly remorse, distinct over his face.
“Of Course” I replied “by the way, how did you come to know my address?”
The chauffeur gave a wry smile and said “what do you think took me so long?”
I shot back a smile, when he asked my phone number. I relented upon it, without much fuss and
escorted him to the door and bidding each other adieu, we departed. I looked down at the diary, lying
upon the table beside, and a certain sense of guilt, flushed within me. I did not know the notion behind
my lie, but I was certain that I should recover this disgraceful act of mine, by returning her the diary
tomorrow, no matter what sort of impression I impinge upon her, of myself. And that night, I slept
with a blundered feeling, and my sleep was intense, up to an extent that not even the fervent rain could
cause any difference to its intensity.
The next morning, I got up quite hastily, for it took me quite long to awake. Well! I
doubt upon it, for it was only an hour past my usual time, which I suppose is pretty less than what I
should have taken, as the night was quite a harassing one. Since last night, I was determined upon the
vow that I had taken, yester night, to return her the diary, and the determination was so, that it even
haunted in my dreams, maybe, I do not quite remember it, anyways, I had a feeling. I could not deny
that I was a little nervous and tense, regarding, mostly to face her. And this edginess was rather more
evident, after the incidence that took place last night. I suppose, she, Diana was anxious for her diary,
maybe insecure, or just a mere emotional bonding with it. Well! Nobody can ever decipher the
inscrutable heart of women and if anyone does, he would bring triumph trophy to the centuries of
labour in men’s world. Anyway, I was guilty of not retuning her, her possession, despite of her trials
to send the chauffeur at my place and I suppose, the best cure of this guilt, will be apology. Maybe it
melts her heart, or maybe she’s not so anxious about it, as I am conjecturing her to be. Well!
Probabilities are numerous, but my duties are not, and according to me, it was my duty to return her
what she desired. I would have rejoiced, really rejoiced, provided my guilt let me breathe, for I began
to consider it as a sinful act of lying, for a mere urge of conversation with the lady herself - Diana.
What would it bring to me, pleasure, nay, disgrace? Maybe.
This queer apprehension, did not even allow me to consume my breakfast properly.
Indeed the juice, coffee and stale toasts, seemed to be a whole lot of food. I wonder what outcome my
decision will bring. Probably, she does not like this gesture of deceit or maybe she takes it in an
offhand way. Shall I return it or shall I not? I remained perplexed. However I perceived it better to
return it to her for I had no interest in creating further troubles, in her already troubled life. The
moment I recall the tears in her beautiful eyes, I feel intense compassion for the poor soul and
consider it as a blasphemy to further harass her. And with this I took my final decision, which
favoured my gentleman spirit. But little was I aware that the approaching moments would dangle me
of my intention.
It was then, when I was munching the stale buttered toast, half-heartedly, and
completely dissolved in the strife of the variance of several ideas and notions, combating within my
brain. So much dissolved, that my body felt immune of the extremity of coldness around me.
Suddenly, my meditation awakened from its intense concentration, by the ring of the telephone. I was
alarmed, for I do not at all appreciate to receive calls at morning and my acquaintance are aware of it.
Though, sometimes, what’s intended is not certain. And so, I hastily picked up the call.
“Hello” I said “Richard here”
There was no reply on the other end of the phone.
“Hello” I said again “Richard here”
“Whoever you are” an unscrupulous male voice barked “I am not interested in introduction”
“Excuse me” I said, in an indignant tone “do I know you?”
“No you don’t” he said “and neither do I”
“Then I suppose, we should hang the phone” I said, considering my wit stronger than his frustration
“don’t you think so?”
“Ah! So the little boy is playing tricks upon me” the voice said, crisply “do you have any idea to
whom are you talking?”
“Well!” I scratched my head, quite bewildered “you’ve not yet revealed”
“Soon you will” the man said “this is Diana’s butler, you understand, Diana Roosevelt’s”
A sudden chill ran down my spine and I began to stammer. Stammer, for the fault was mine.
“Hello, Sir” I stuttered.
“What ‘hello’” he exclaimed “it’s a serious business”
I thought I was being foolish. After all, he was a butler, just a mere butler.
“Look, sir” I said, pretending to be casual “I have no rivalry with you, if you have, then it’s your
problem”
“What! You are saying this to me” he exclaimed “I should have said this to you, you’ve stolen
madam’s diary haven’t you?”
I was aware that I was caught of my deed, and so, I found it futile to lie anymore.
“Mind your words, butler” I said, resentfully “I have not ‘stolen’ it, I have just ‘preserved’ it, do you
find any difference between the meanings”
“Well! If that is so” the butler replied “then why did you deny returning it to the chauffeur?”
“The chauffeur had seen it on the table” he added “but it was his scruples that he did not embarrass
you at that moment”
I was a little mortified; however, I generated a wise excuse to abstain my embarrassment.
“I was afraid” I said “that he might not be what he introduced himself to be. And I suppose, you are
well aware of the corruption that prevails in London these days, are you not?”
There was silence for a little while, on the other end. And I comprehended, that now, it was my turn to
bark at him.
“Alright” he said, slowly “come with the diary to our mansion. I hope you’re aware of it”
I was well aware of it.
“So, Mr. Butler” I said, grudgingly “did you get a lesson, of not yelling at people without having a full
account of the matter?”
“Alright, I am sorry” he said calmly.
“You should be” saying this, I hung the phone with a triumphant feeling stirred within my veins, as
though I had made him taste dirt.
I was indeed light-hearted, for the justification of my deed was undeniably astute.
However, it was the time for me to get started with the dressing up of mine. And without a minute
more that went wasted, I made haste to approach for the bath. There was no leisure that resided in my
actions, and so, after a quick bath followed the shaving and hair dressing and other such stuffs, until I
put on my branded cream coloured suit, which I was gifted by one of my friends last year. And
applying a whole bottle of perfume, almost, I was ready to present myself to my endearing host -
Diana. And by this time, I was not nervous. Holding the diary under my arm, and swinging the car’s
key with my finger, I made my way out to my driveway, where stood my friend, proudly inviting me
to board in - my car.
It was not a fine experience on the streets, for the streets were damp by the rain of
last night and the traffic was rather a fiend, preventing me to rejoice for the coming moments, that I
suppose will be lovely as I would meet the lady about whom I know so much, more than anyone. I
was aware of each and every tragedy and festivity that she has experienced in recent times. And I was
glad that I would meet her, and if possible discern her heart. I was glad… glad indeed.
Though it took me quite long, but I finally reached my destination - Diana’s
mansion. Jerking my car before it, I stepped out and looked up at the mansion, which appeared not a
morsel less than a grand château. Looking around, I sauntered ahead and stood before the entrance.
The gardening was magnificent. Utterly wonderful… soothing greenery and trees standing around the
lawn, whose grasses were cut in a perfect measure and a beautiful garden, with all wonderful varieties
of flowers dancing on the rhythm of the breeze. I wonder what a beatific experience it would be, to
enjoy an overcast morning in such a wondrous milieu. I kept gazing in, standing at the entrance, until I
caught the sight of two watchmen, two jocular watchmen, one plump and the other thin, who were
absorbed in their own little frolics.
“What’s the matter dude?” asked the plump, with his temples, clenching.
“I am here to meet Ms. Roosevelt” I said
“Well! That’s obvious” added the thin “but not just anybody can go in”
“I have been called” I said stubbornly “believe it”
“Everyone says so” the plump said
“And we don’t listen to everyone” added the thin, giggling for moment at his extremely low wit.
“Look sir” I said “I have to return her diary…let me in”
“Then give the diary…or whatever to us” the thin said “we’ll pass it on to Madam Diana”
“But…sir, please let me in” I insisted “I am as harmless as a little child”
The plump began to open his mouth, when the telephone at the reception, beside, rang.
“Pick it up” the thin ordered the plump. The plump held the receiver and stuck it to his ear.
“Yes, madam” he said. Pause. “Yah! He is a handsome young man” he said, with his eyes addressing
me. Pause. “…okay, yes about some diary or stuff…okay…okay, sure”
The plump put down the receiver and said “you’re a lucky fellow, you can go in”. The thin joined him
by nodding, as if it was on their mercy that I was allowed in. And looking at them with indignant eyes,
I made my way ahead to the door. Yes, I was a little tensed, but I made no delay in ringing the bell. I
waited for a response until I heard the footsteps reaching close. The door clicked open.
 Diana stood in front of me. She was dressed in a black dress, stretching up to her
knees and her hair sparked a shiny mahogany flash. Her metal earrings were clinking and a rich aroma
of perfume stirred in the air around. I was dazed by her looks. She seemed no less than a ‘seraph’, an
angel which I think she certainly is. When I looked deep into her eyes, I acknowledged that what I had
discerned her as, she genuinely is – calm, serene and placid.
For a little while, our eyes did the talking and nothing did we utter - an inexplicable
gesture, when suddenly, Diana’s lips parted apart to whisper “Come in”. I was not aware of such a
welcome, that I’ll be allowed in but I was, and made no strange behaviour, just quietly sauntered in,
holding loose Diana’s diary.
The interior was filled with artistic taste and its elegance was worth adoring. It was
evident that Diana had a very high aesthetic sense, which was reflected by the antique stylised lamps
and statues decorated elegantly on the glass holders and the beautiful paintings and other works of art
hung upon the walls, which gave a classique touch to the house. I silently followed the path laid by
Diana’s black sandals and reclined on the squishy couch, when gestured by Diana. Diana too sat in
front of me and I placed the diary upon the table and moved back, resting my back against the couch. I
made no sound until Diana broke the silence.
“I am sorry to bother you” she said “I hope its okay with you”
“Ah! Its no problem for me” I said, politely with a rather extreme expression of eyebrows “I am rather
glad to have it returned to you”
“So kind of you” Diana said, with utter sincerity.
It was then when I realized that she had an Irish lilt in her voice, which was so pleasant to hear.
“So, what’s your name?” she asked. I noticed her bird-in-flight eyebrows, when she lifted those.
“Richard” I said “Richard Smith”
Diana nodded, smiling.
Within a moment, our solitary conversation was interrupted by one of the butler, whose face
resembled, that to a Frenchman, he brought us tea in a silver-plated saucer. I shifted the diary a little
and the butler gently placed the tray on the glass table and went away. I looked at his cheek as he went
away, for a small bit of lather was sticking on his chin, which quite annoyed me, however, I did not
made it notice to him and off he went, away from the living room.
Diana held the cup, without adding the sugar and gestured me to have it too. I smiled pleasantly and
added a cube in my coffee and began sipping.
“Are you a coffee addict?” I asked, uncertain about that one.
“Well! Yes” she replied “you could say so”
“But why?” she added with an inquisitive animation of eyes.
“Just…because I am one” I shrugged
Diana nodded, sipping the coffee.
“What do you do Richard?” she asked
“I am writer” I said “I write romance”
Diana beamed a smile, clearly impressed.
“That’s very good” she complemented
I nodded and a few silent moments followed.
“So, Mr. Smith” Diana said “did you read my diary?”
There was a certain impishness that reflected upon her visage, when she asked this to me. However, I
tried to play safe and answered directly “no”
“Oh! Really” Diana exclaimed, playfully “are you sure?”
My lips broke a smile and my countenance confessed the truth.
“I knew it” Diana said, amused “its okay”
“Well! I could not restrain myself” I shrugged “you know”
Diana broke into laughter and said “it’s okay, if I were you; I would have done the same” she paused
“after all we’re humans”
I nodded, experiencing an incomprehensible pleasure.
“Now, that you are aware of my life” Diana continued “I think we should be friends, don’t you think
so?”
She spoke with such cordiality, which made me quite hysterical and I burst out at once “yes, we
should be friends…friends indeed”
I finished my coffee earlier and waited for Diana to complete. The same butler held
the tray back and vanished somewhere in the house. Diana leaned forward a little and picked up the
diary, then said “I think I have to leave for a friend’s house”.
I instantly got up and said “Sure, I too am getting late”
Diana escorted to the door and opened it for me. We shook hands deliberately, when Diana said,
“I hope we meet again”
We exchanged smiles. “Maybe we will” I said.
“I am sure we would, someday” Diana muttered, her eyes twinkling.
“How can you be so sure?” I asked.
“I have a feeling” she said, narrowing her brows.
I nodded silently and we bid each other adieu. The door closed behind me and I
went my own way with a swirl of emotions, which I bore within my heart, floating with the melody of
an incomprehensible tune.

……….……………………………………
 Chapter III

Several days would have passed by, since I had last met her. And the grandeur of
those memories began to fade away from my mind. Maybe she would have forgotten me, just as I had
let those moments perish, considering it to be a phase of time. Neither were there any means of
reconciliation, and so I let go my life the way it was going. Maybe our acquaintance chose its
destination as the very beginning. Maybe her words ‘I am sure we would meet someday’ flowed with
the stream of futility. And it was probably evident, for I could foresee no other such meetings of ours.
But little was I aware that foresights are not always true…
 Apprehended I was, for the final draft of my novel was intended to be completed by
this month, but now when I analysed it, I found that it would take another few months to be
completed. A couple of more chapters were to be written. It was a sheer outcome of the idleness that I
had been pursuing for last couple of weeks, which now had burdened me a great deal. Moreover, my
college was reopening within a week or so and I had several literature journals pending. I even had to
write an article for the Weekly Magazine before the date passes off; else they would snatch back the
monthly writing contract from me. Why was I indolent when the circumstance preferred my diligence;
I know not, and could only wish that I had been a little industrious so that I could breathe the air of
freedom, at least at this point of time. However, I was not determined to complete all my works, only
a part of it was intended. It would take ages for the completion of all the journals, and I preferred
detention far better than killing my sleep. This major apprehension did not even allowed me to stroll
the complete course of my daily walk and I decided to return back. Moreover, the night was pretty
frosty which made me feel quite uneasy and I did not perceive it wise to further proceed with my walk
and so, I decided that I should return.
On returning back, I noticed a beggar standing hunched before my house. A skinny
old beggar, looking up at me with his gleaming eyes, as though yearning something from me. I said
nothing and squeezed my way aside him to the house, when suddenly, he knocked his stick on the
ground. I turned back in an instant. The old beggar shivering in cold looked up at me in his hunched
state. Clouds of vapour were bursting out of his mouth and his eyes met mine. I looked full into his
eyes and observed his destitution and vulnerability. My heart melted and I spontaneously fished out a
handful of coins from my long coat and handed it to his rough hands. His eyes shimmered as though
blessing me. And kissing my hand, he went away, while I returned to my house, elated with a certain
sense of bliss that descended upon my heart. I wondered whether it would do me any good.
Clicking the door open, I pushed it apart and sauntered in. I switched on the lights
and sprightly headed to the refrigerator, as I was desperate out of hunger. I was aware that there were
no eatables inside, but still I ransacked the kitchen in search of some food. Finally, I decided to order
something, as I was too lazy to prepare my own food. But then, I preferred it better to drive to the
restaurant, where I usually used to seek refuge when I was assailed by such circumstances. I had not
even had my lunch and so, I considered it as a wise plan. And without much thinking, I ambled out
and locked the door and walked up to the driveway and boarded in my car.
I reclined myself on the seat and began snaking through the bustling city, enjoying
the music from the stereo. Driving has its own pleasure (I thought) and when it is accompanied by
good music, its splendour is further bloomed and even the frosty whether seems beautiful, when it
blows across the face. And I was in a similar state, enjoying the enlivening moments to the fullest. I
love to look aside at the frozen footpaths and pedestrians floundering with a smile on their face and
the children throwing snow balls at each other. Winter is indeed a good season, yes it is. And it’s
always a pleasure to drive in this season, it makes one realize the beauty that resides concealed behind
the crestfallen appearance of what we call as ‘solitude’. However, this pleasure soon met its
destination as I jerked my car in the parking lot before the restaurant.
I stepped out of the car and moved in through the entrance of the restaurant and
reclined myself on the corner table. From there, I could clearly view the Hotel Imperial, standing just
opposite the restaurant. The Hotel’s grandeur was majestic and its elegance reflects upon its royal
design. Here the driveway was only built for Rolls Royce and Limousines bearing embellished
factions of men and women and even solitary souls. I could only wish I had the capability to stand
amongst those celebrated people. But for now, I had to content myself with this restaurant. I sulked.
Soon the waiter arrived, and I placed my order of a Veg. Burger and a cup of coffee.
Though my appetite demanded much more but I was pretty apprehensive and concerned for my
health, as I began to consider myself a bit plump. Though others did not agree upon it, but who knows
one’s body better than oneself. And so, I regarded it rather wise to take care of my physique.
Meanwhile, I observed the activities taking place before my eyes. The street opposite was bursting
with cars and mobs; mobs of capital people. I wished I could attain the same pleasure as they do,
walking proudly amongst their own kind. I sensed the footsteps of the waiter beside, and turned aside.
The moment I snatched away my eyes from the street, a loud breakage of some sort was heard. I
turned aside, consternated.
A grand black car, standing before the Hotel Imperial, moments before was now
smashed by another car, whose headlight and front portion was crushed. The black car was completely
distorted and remained unfeasible now, with not even a morsel of chance that it could be driven again
on the streets of London. I pity the owner.
There was a great hubbub on the street and the flame of whispers spread all along
and everywhere and the place of incidence was filled with shrill expressions and voices of the wealthy
fillies and men. Some of the people in the restaurant ran away to join the clamour. But I had no such
notion of turning a pitiable incidence into a source of entertainment. And so, I remained there,
averting my attention from the incidence, though I did not began eating as it was a moment that did
not favour it at all. I was rather concerned that whether someone was injured or not, I pray not, for I
could see the chauffeurs standing apprehended with sullen rue on their face. Despite of my endeavours
to tear apart my eyes from the chaos, I was unable, for I suppose there ignited a controversy between
two chauffeurs, but I was not certain, for I could not have a clear view, as there congregated several
people. But suddenly, my eyes caught the sight of one of the chauffeurs, and I suppose, he was
Diana’s chauffeur. Though I was not sure, but his physique and somewhat visible face was matching
his. And it was then, when it struck my mind that the car which was ruthlessly crashed resembled to
that of Diana. And a sudden urge of inquisition kindled within me, so strong, even more than my
hunger, when suddenly, my eyes caught a glimpse of sight that morphed my suspicion to belief.
 It was Diana, embellished heavily in a fur coat. She was coming out of the Hotel
entrance, walking hastily with a conspicuous apprehension all over her countenance. Instantly, I got
up and stabbed the money on the table and flee away to the driveway, where my car was parked.
Boarding in the car I darted my way to the place of incidence and halted my car before it. I stepped
out and made my way, tearing apart the crowd to analyse the situation.
It was indeed Diana’s car that remained dormant as a victim and Diana’s chauffeur
in a futile struggle to consent Diana that he would turn everything alright. While Diana stood frantic
with a certain mixture of rage and anxiety descended upon her face. She remained insensible of my
presence and I made no efforts to display my prominence, until I heard her whisper ‘now how will I
return?’ frowning at the chauffeur, upon which, the chauffeur suggested a name that I scarcely
remember, who was ready to drop her home. I looked aside. A bald, middle-aged man stood proudly
in a black suit as a victor amongst the many handsome and wealthy contenders of such an opportunity.
I saw Diana saunter close to the man and say “Oh! Mr.Bennet, it’s so kind of you”. The man shot back
a smile and said “it’s a pleasure Ms. Roosevelt; please allow me to drop you home”. I was burning
inside and it seemed to me as a loss of opportunity to let her get away with the man. And so, unable to
bear the temptation I suddenly blurted.
“Ms. Roosevelt” I called out. Each one in the mob turned their face towards me. And irrespective of
any of those eyes, I walked forward and close to Diana and said “would you please allow me to escort
you home”. There was silence all around and Diana seemed bewildered. Everyone around, including
the man, looked at me with indignant eyes. But little did it bother me, for I was in a whirl of madness
at that moment and nothing seemed to abstain me of my intention. Everyone was awaiting Diana’s
reply and my heart was on my mouth. After a short pause, Diana nodded and broke the silence.
“I would love to” she said with a gentle grin and I held her hand and showed her the way to my car. I
opened the door for her to step in and walking the other way, I held the driving seat and off we went,
while the others kept gazing at us, speechless at the fortuitous episode. What an extremity of pride and
conceit flushed within me as if I had triumphed my way amongst those many affluent fellows,
standing flabbergasted at my victory.
And after a silent moment of speechlessness as we drove across and ahead, Diana
slowly whispered with a serene smile on her face, “I told you, we’ll meet someday”. I turned. I did not
speak for a little while and neither did she expect an answer. We still lingered upon what had
happened a distance before, but then, I again broke the silence.
“It’s all a matter of fate”
Diana nodded with a placid composure reflecting upon her face. We were aware that we were
concealing our excitement beneath the veil of our calm visage, but that pretension had its own
pleasure, and the pleasure was such that extinguished the burning hunger I had been enduring for so
long.
 I noticed Diana smiling in herself. No, the smile was not a purposed gesture; it was
an unrestrained reflection of the internal bliss which she was undergoing beneath her heart. And
somehow, I managed to utter with earnest admiration “What’s that pretty smile for”.
Diana narrowed her brows and said “hmm…maybe…nay, leave it” saying this she buried her face
under her palms and giggled jerkily. I made no further inquisitions, for I was satiated with that naïve
giggles of hers, which expressed it all - her euphoria.
How peaceful but ecstatic moments we shared together, filled with the air of
romanticism. Moments, worth remembrance, moments that wrote my destiny…
And with such little talks, but bursting with eloquence of emotions, we continued
the drive, until the melancholy moment of departure arrived, when I could foresee her mansion from a
distance. I looked aside at the face of Diana, and noticed a certain sense of anxiety and timidity over
her visage. I was aware that this was due to the approaching moments of departure, but this was not
the only emotion that I noticed. There lingered a certain impatience clearly gleaming in her eyes as
though in a yearn of telling something to me. But I didn’t ask, with a notion that it would make her
feel uneasy. And continued driving until her mansion arrived and I jerked my car before it. I made no
haste and slowly whispered “So, it was nice meeting you”.
Diana glanced up at me, uncertainly and said “So with you”. I awaited her to get down, though not
really, but I did. It was evident that Diana genuinely adored my company, which I was able to
construe by her unwillingness to depart. We filled a silent moment with inexplicable sighs and
expressions, when Diana suddenly uttered “do we have to depart now?”
I could clearly notice the utter expectation of my refusal, upon her face.
“Can we not keep on driving until I am satiated” she added “to a place filled with solitude”
I made a hesitant face, quite bewildered by her naïve request. I looked at the watch but did not utter,
leaving my uncertainty to reflect upon my countenance. I was unable to decide, but Diana made my
work easy. She inclined close to me and her hand crawled towards mine and held them softly. My
heart was pounding faster than ever but I did not express so. And clutching my hand, Diana whispered
“please”. I failed to deny that request and the only word that I uttered was “sure”. A placid smile
overtook her lips and her knitted eyebrows sundered apart and I twisted the key of my car. Thus
commenced the unforeseen journey.
We drove past the streets and avenues, blissful with silent but expressive moments,
which we shared. The city was crossing past my eyes, but was I aware of it? I doubt. I was sunk
beneath delirium of rapture, the author of which sat beside me, whose presence was what kept me
driving. Moments were passing by and I remained oblivious of those. Despite of the long driving, I
was not wretched, and where resides the question of that? After all, I was bewitched by the celestial
being sitting beside an arms distance. Even I remained unaware that I was driving. My arms and legs
rested upon the mercy of my fate, while my mind remained absorbed in the sweet little innuendoes
and introductions that we expressed to each other, regarding our tastes and likings. And most of all,
the romantic music that seemed to fill the air with little pink bubbles of heart. Ah! I was spell-bound,
spell-bound by the charisma that resided in her presence, and I could clearly notice that similar were
her feelings buried beneath her heart. What was the reason behind the inexplicable smiles of ours at
each other’s sight remained a mystery, a mystery which I preferred to remain unfolded.
This was indeed the moment when certain letters began to emerge to name this
‘anonymous’ relationship.
We were on the highway, the solitary highway, where only a couple of vehicles
came to our sight. This was a decision of mine to satisfy her urge of solitude. And by that time, we
somewhat loosened the knots of pretension, which the circumstance bore. Either I was an introvert or
she was, or maybe we both were; I know not. And possessed no quest for this knowledge, for those
quiet moments may seem emotionless, but little does its form matter. Its only contentment that matters
and those moments were indeed contenting. And who knows it better than we do, that what volubility
and vivacity those silent moments concealed beneath the veneer of reticence.
Suddenly, in the midst of the highway, while I was driving, I heard Diana say
something, something that I could not comprehend, whereupon, I asked “Did you say something”
Diana opened her jaws and left it opened for a little while, then scratched her forehead and said
“well!” She paused “I was wondering if you were tired of driving”
“Ah! No, not at all” I replied politely “why?”
“No…just wonderin’…you know” she shrugged
It was quite difficult to decipher her psyche and so I let it go the way it was going.
And with a short grin, I paused, and looked at her, then again stabbed my eyes to the highway. I was
wondering, how subtle and delicate her features were and what a refined speech she had. And I almost
blurted. Yes, I did blurt, blurt with utter sincerity and ease, with a charm that seduces.
“You know Diana” I said “that’s the most beautiful pair of eyes I would have ever seen in my life”
Diana widened her eyes and smiled coyly, then said with earnest modesty flickering upon her face.
“That was cute, thank you”
I did not know why I said it, but I did and I meant it. That was the very first bold statement that I had
made throughout the journey. I saw Diana smiling, as if she was able to decipher the flame of
exhilaration beneath my calm face. I know not from where this boldness appeared in my expressions
and I made no efforts to conceal those.
“You’re indeed a beautiful piece of art” I said “really, I am not just saying all these”
Diana lifted up her eyebrow with a certain incredulity stirred in her expression.
“Oh! My” she exclaimed “you’re a maestro at flattering”
I spontaneously answered “and you’re a maestro at being flattered”
We laughed in chorus, which soon died out but the smile didn’t.
“We have come a long way” I said “don’t you think so?”
“Oh! Yes” Diana replied “are you tired?”
I knitted my brows, as though I was perplexed and said “how can I be tired when I am with Diana
Roosevelt…Diana Roosevelt”
“Oh! Come on” she said “now, don’t embarrass me”
I nodded silently, grinning
“Well! Richard” Diana said, it was the first time she addressed me by my name “I was wondering if
you could allow me to drive your car”
I turned aside and asked “why do you want to drive the car?”
“B’coz…I would love to do so” she replied, shrugging uncertainly.
“Do you know how to drive?” I asked
“Of course I know” she exclaimed
“Alright then” I said “there you go”
I jerked my car at the side of the road and we hastily changed our seats. And thus, the journey was on
the fate of hers.
My apprehension was futile, for Diana knew how to drive. But I could clearly
discern that she was not an experienced driver. However, little did it matter as the highway was rather
barren. Diana and I in solitude - how queer but resplendent with elation. We did adore each other’s
company. Yes we did, which were evident by each word and expression of ours which were
unfathomable, yet we earned frolics out of those. And with our heart drenched in profound pleasure,
we continued the drive, when Diana took a right turn and we entered a line of avenue. I wondered the
notion behind this act of hers, but then, let it slip down my mind and again merged in the similar
romanticism, which the circumstance bore since the journey commenced and still not quenched our
desires. But little was I aware of the evil conspiracy between our fate and the approaching moments…
We were frivolous at that moment, chanted by each other’s presence and the
adoration that our eyes expressed of each other, while our demeanour conversed, immersed us into the
delirium of what we know as ‘enchantment’. Yes, we were enchanted by each other and at that
particular moment, the enchantment was on its zenith. I remember, Diana and I were behaving pretty
casual at that moment, when I said something that I scarcely remember which set both of us into flame
of laughter. Diana was laughing, repeating some sort of word over and over again and I was
accompanying her of her laughter. But at that moment we did not have even the slightest idea that we
were closing to our own doom, that the reckless driving has set the car off our track. And for a
moment when we realized that our car was certain to strike the devious tree trunk, our laughing
countenance froze to death and our hearts pumped out. Diana covered her face with her palm and
produced a loud shriek. I could never forget it, the shriek still echoes in my ears.
The moment was over, but not its repercussions. The tree creaked and bent halfway
down. The front portion of my car was smashed badly. My arm and head were bleeding, I didn’t know
how but they were. After a moment, when I regained my senses, I turned aside and glanced at Diana.
Her head was resting against the steering, unconscious. I was consternated to the core; I drew her back
to the seat and parted apart the hair covering her face. Blood oozed out of her forehead, and somewhat
from her scalp, dripping down to her eyelids and side of her nose to her lips. I checked her breaths.
She was breathing. I shuddered her shoulders and cried her name, but not a word did she utter. And
for the first time in my life, I shed the tears of horror, profound horror.
However, I managed to pull Diana on my side, and squeezed my way to the driving
seat. The car grunted for a while, but then with a jerk, it began moving. I drove it backwards and slid it
back to the road and began driving at a speed that scarcely would have a man experienced. The only
intention in my mind was to reach the Parkland Hospital as fast as I could. I remember not a glimpse
between the while, for it was not my brain that led the path, it was my instinct and soon, I was outside
the entrance of the Hospital. Stepping down I held Diana and rested her upon my shoulder and ran up
to the entrance.
The ever awake place was full of chatters and footsteps of several people. The
cacophony seemed unbearable at that moment, when my eyes were in the search of anyone who could
aid me of this dreadful circumstance. Very soon, I was attended by a dozen of nurses who came
running at my sight with a stretcher. We rested Diana’s back against the stretcher and carried her to
the elevator. The elevator stopped at the seventh floor and we got out. The doctors and the nurses
seemed panicked but were consoling me with their austere countenance that she had met a minor
injury which would cure in a day or two. However, nothing seemed minor at that moment, when I was
tormented by my own angst. My arms and legs were shivering with nerviness, and scarcely was I able
to understand any of the word that the doctors said. Diana was taken to the operation theatre and I
filled the form. I was indeed excruciating to view this circumstance eloquent with terror.
Anxiety was at its utmost level, when I was moving frantically outside the operation
theatre awaiting the doctor’s response. It was a couple of hours past midnight that the doctor came out
and informed me that everything was proper and Diana had been sent to her ward. I asked the doctor
whether the injury was rather critical or not, whereupon the doctor shrugged and said “it was a very,
very minor injury” he paused “just a few stitches, that’s it”. The extent of relief that overtook my face
was remarkable.
And with this, I was escorted to the ward where Diana was lying upon the bed, with
a bandage rounding her forehead, and her eyes closed. I slowly stepped inside and reclined myself on
the chair beside and thus, passed the whole night.
That night, I realized that the letters had finally emerged to name this relationship
which I regarded as ‘anonymous’ sometime before. That it was the time to give it its name, the name
of an emotion under the seizure of which, my heart now pounded, to honour it by the name of - ‘Love’
 ………………………............

Chapter IV

The next morning, I was awake. Awake at an absurd time, when the whole London
was dozed in sleep, when the city appeared purple under the deep blue sky, which was illuminated a
trifle, just by the little shimmers of golden, that rested upon the horizon, which indicated that the
clouds were on the verge of giving birth to a new Sun. It was so early that even the twitters of the
birds lost its existence and the city seemed concealed under the obscurity of fog. Not a motion here,
not a sound there, only silence, complete silence…
And in the midst of such tranquil milieu, I sat on the chair, leaning on the all over
the table, penning down the words on a cheap quality paper, in a yearn of composing some striking
sentences for my novel. I munched a bite of sandwich kept beside on the plate, which made me
acquiesce upon the fact that the food of the hospital is rightly christened as ‘disgusting’. However, I
managed to devour some more and immersed back to work.
It was pleasant, Pleasant indeed to write in such calm environment, where the
serenity makes the emotion flow from the heart to the pen, which twists and turns it in a fashion that
morphs the emotions into words, and the piece of paper upon which these words are scribbled, turns to
a mirror of all those emotions. And thus, the emotion no more remains concealed. The veil rips off its
face – a phenomenon called writing.
I waved my fingers across my hair and looked beside at Diana. She was fidgeting
and murmuring something in sleep and her naïveté broke a smile on my tired countenance. I looked
down and smiled in myself, then closed my eyes and a flash of the last night encountered my vision. I
opened my eyes instantly and heaved a sigh, thinking about my queer fate that landed both of us in a
hospital. I kept wondering whether to adore it or blame it. But no answer could I perceive. And
battling with my own queries, I gave up.
I had been writing for long and was quite tired. And so, placing the pen over the
paper, I left it there and looked beside to the window. Droplets of mist were resting against the panes,
which rendered me a smudged view of the city outside. However, I could discern that the sun was
about to rise, or rather was half-risen and the purple cloak was somewhat disappearing from the sky,
being replaced by the rays of golden impinging a trifle impact on the city, which was on its way
morphing from blue to grey.
I remember, I had caught the sight of a bookshop, late yester night, while I was
waiting for Diana outside the operation theatre. However, I was not certain upon it, for I was drenched
in the demented frenzy of anxiety at that moment and hardly had a mind to ponder over a mere
bookshop. But then, I remember, I had sensed its presence, yes I did. I thought I could spare some
time in the bookshop (if there was one) rather than munching the disgusting sandwich. Moreover,
Diana was also asleep, and I had no means to aid her in anyway, now.
I rose up from the chair and sauntered slowly and quietly, trying to make the least
noise that I could, for I was afraid that my footsteps would raise Diana out of her sleep. However,
nothing of that sort happened and I soundly walked towards the door. I could sense that Diana was
still asleep, though I did not look back. I carefully opened the door, but was bitterly apprehended by
the loud ‘creak’ that followed and I clenched my eyelids. Suddenly I heard a whisper “Thanks a lot,
Richard”
I left the door to its destiny and turned back. It was Diana, glancing at me with her
sedate deep blue eyes and the skin of her neck, a little curled. She had an impish grin on her face, so
pretty, so exhilarating, that compelled me to return back a pleasant smile.
“Did I disturb you, Diana?” I asked leaning towards the bed.
Diana smiled, then shook her head and slowly whispered “not at all”
I decided that I should rather accompany Diana, than surveying the bookstore, for I did not perceive it
gentle at all to leave a patient alone in a solitary ward. And so, I walked back and reclined on the chair
beside Diana’s bed.
“So, where were you going?” Diana asked
I looked down at her, adoring her lovely features that bloomed further in white hospital dress,
resembling to her to an angel from heaven. My angelic sweet princess.
A cold blush flushed on her rosy cheeks and she failed to snatch her eyes away from
mine. We shared and incomprehensible moment, a moment filled with silent ecstasy, which spoke a
lot…without words. It was eloquent, eloquent up to an extent, which unveiled the condition of her
heart, which was pounding beneath…, for me.
Diana said nothing and neither did I. She was not insensible of what remained
buried in our heart, just was uncertain to bring it upon her tongue. And this dilemma was evident, for I
could clearly peep through the windows of her soul - her eyes, which revealed the genuine intense
emotion of love that she possessed for me, underneath the cloak of her pretension, which itself used to
betray her at times when our demeanour conversed, which sprouted out her concealed feelings
addressed to me, like a bird freed from its cage and a shy sweet rosiness that used to lighten up her
face was remarkable evidence of her failure to disguise her own emotions, beneath the shams of
charade.
The unfathomable stealth of glimpses of each other and the exchange of pleasant
smiles upon each other’s sights, at a moment that hardly beseeched its essence, spoke the words which
we both were in an endeavour to hide. What moments of pleasure they were when the giggles of
Diana used to echo along the walls of the little ward and a measure of elation I used to derive to
persuade Diana to devour her meals despite of her denials and protests against the hospital’s food.
Those were indeed the moments that would never fade away from my memories. I was grateful,
grateful for being rendered some valuable treasuries of reminiscences that would revive me up in the
moments of distress. Memories that would lighten me jovial, when dull, silent remorse is what
remains descended upon my heart. Memories that would stand as a testimony of my life to be worth
called ‘life’. Indeed those moments were priceless…moments of blooming love. And thus passed the
invaluable time, until the dusk appeared.
 I was sitting silently on the couch, absorbed in writing. Blue rays of the dusk were
flooding the ward, penetrating through the windows. Diana was sitting up on the bed, dangling her
long tender feet downwards. Reticence was set up all along the ward, reticence free from boredom.
Diana munched the sandwich of the afternoon meal, and then suddenly broke the silence.
“Richard” she said “may I ask you a question”
I capped the pen and left it down on the table and said “sure”
“Alright” she said. I could see her legs dangle with a greater vigour. “Where were you going, in the
morning?”
I smiled and put the pen in my mouth.
“Why?” I asked
“Just asking” she muttered, shrugging “your actions were sneaky”
“I was on my way to the bookshop” I said flippantly “I suppose there is one downstairs”
“Ah! Okay” she said, with a certain ease that overtook her visage.
“Why? What did you think?” I asked crisply, with a slight mixture of suspicion in my voice.
“Nay, nothing” she said sullenly, looking down to her hands.
Her demeanour conspired to me what she bore in her heart and I read it, I truly did.
“How can you think about that, Diana?” I spoke with utter seriousness “do you think I can I leave you
in such a state; it’ll be a blasphemy for me. Do you hear that?”
Diana glanced up at me with fresh tears glittering in her eyes and slowly whispered “I am sorry”
I felt intense compassion for her, at her solitary heart which was wounded by the
indigence of its desire. And I instantly got up and walked close to Diana who was weeping
breathlessly, looking down at her hand.
“What happened?” I asked politely
Diana looked up at me, and breathed “you’re the most beautiful person I had ever met”
Tears began to pool down her cheeks, I remained silent as she looked down and wept again. Her tears
brought a lump down my throat. I felt like holding Diana in the circle of my arm and sop up her tears
and grieve beneath my chest. But all I could do was to wave my hand above her head and console her
impecunious heart. I knelt down and held her tender hands. I whispered to her “you too are the purest
human present on this ingenuine world. You need not worry; I am there with you …always”
Diana pursed her lips and swung her arms around me and wept on my shoulder. I
too hugged her and let her shed the ocean of grief concealed beneath her heart, until she was satiated. I
wiped her warm tears by my thumb and suggested her to revive up; when she gave me a pleasant
smile and said that she just needed some solitude. I agreed upon it and fulfilled this yearn of hers and
moved out of the ward, pondering over this indecipherable emotion that was swirling within me.
Whether to laugh or to weep; I remained oblivious.
The next moment, I was in the bookshop, treading across the divergent assort of
novels and novellas and stories and politics arranged according to their genres. But I could sense
nothing. The éclat aura that prevailed all around, with the connoisseurs of art and literature did not
render any bounds of sentience to my nerves. The tender melody that wailed in the air failed to
invigorate my senses. I could not perceive anything around me, except the incantation of those
ravishing moments and emotions which kept whirling within my heart, rendering it pounces of
felicity. For a moment, I felt as if this subtle bond of ours was of centuries ago, and we were destined
to flow with this stream of solace. As if our liaison was a forethought of the deities and we were mere
puppets of our destiny, the destiny which is scented with the fragrance of such placidity of emotions.
Or maybe, it was a mere flight of our hearts in the firmament of blooming Love….
I moved out of the bookshop, unable to repress my urge of Diana’s company. And
on returning back, while I was on the way to the ward, I sensed some faint voices coming from within.
I walked close to it and heard Diana shouting bitterly. I felt the presence of someone else too who
spoke in a very soft and gentle manner. A sudden curious gust of passion incited within me and I
clicked the door open.
A grave silence followed as I stepped in. Diana glanced up at me with her eyes
glimmering with tears and her countenance cerise with anguish and resentment. A round faced
polished young fellow in a three-piece, holding his black suit in his arms stood abreast the door
constantly looking at me indignantly with his eyebrows raised with vanity. He had a perfect side
parted greasy hair and a thin line of moustache below his nose. The fellow emanated a sort of
fragrance that resembled the smell of a tropical fruit probably. Behind him was a bald old man, maybe
his butler. He had an angel-like face with a wily shade blended upon his visage. And did not raised his
eyes from the ground.
“Is he the fellow?” the young man asked, indignantly with his temples clenching.
Diana nodded silently wiping her tears.
“You were with this chap the whole day” he yelled at her “Impossible”
Fresh tears pooled down Diana’s eyes and she glanced up at me, as though apologising.
“It was he who saved me” she screamed “not you, it was Richard”
“Aha! I see” he said with a perverse mirth in his voice “so the little fellow’s got his name, interesting,
huh!”
“Enough Henry” Diana yelled with her eyes bloodshot with rage “dare not address him in this
manner”
It was then, when it struck my mind, that he was the same Henry Earnshaw, regarding whom Diana
had expressed her profound malignity in her diary. And now, after comprehending this malefic devil,
even I witnessed his shenanigan.
“So now you’re taking his side” he said with a shrewd smirk “My! My! The flame is on both the
sides”
“Shut up your blabbering” Diana shouted at him resentfully.
“Behave yourself, You SLUT!” he commanded with his eyes popping out with intense rage.
Diana shuddered and again broke to tears and began sobbing. I saw the butler lean over the man and
whisper something inaudible. The man nodded and addressing me, he said “hey you” and fished out
his wallet and handed me a bunch of 50 pound bills and said “thank you very much, you may leave
now”
An inestimable extent of frenzy descended over my sanity and a whirl of fury
scuttled through my veins. My heart was pounding with the rhythm of delirium, as though my chest
would explode out of ire. And with intense temerity, I threw the money on his face and
stepped out slamming the door behind them, bearing within my heart a fervent flare of
furore...

……………………………………………………

Chapter V
 I had completed writing my novel. Indeed a great experience. The whole day I had
been rejoicing and celebrating this occasion with me and my solitude. Celebrating with romantic
music, with driving, with my own little feast and the exult of being a writer. The thought of writing a
new novel touches the chord of my bosom and a flurried sensation of delight passes all through my
veins. A new novel – a new world which I’ll frame. However, I remained unaware of what my coming
novel would be like, its story, its theme, its characters, how will I introduce them, how will I make
them converse, who’ll be the central character, whether it’ll be a boy or a girl and many other such
questions that remained revolving in my mind. And as many questions, the more delighted I get. But
for now, I had to rest, rest until an experience influences my mind and my heart begins to pound
anxiously to write a complete novel based upon it. But now, I am not emphasizing my mind over that,
just enjoying, enjoying the sweet fruit of my deed – peace of mind.
A couple of days later, I had sent the query letters to a number of publications and
for a long time, I received no reply, until one overcast morning when I was setting out for a walk, as it
was a lovely morning and I am a passionate admirer of the beauty of nature. I locked the door despite
there was no essence of it and set out amongst the gloomy haze, which enveloped my eyesight far and
wide. Fishing my hands inside my overcoat’s pockets, I sauntered down the wet path of the street. I
walked for long, almost an hour and while returning I thought that I should check my mailbox. The
morning was beautiful that day and so was my fate. There was a letter in the mailbox addressed to me,
sent by a New York Publishing agency. I tore the envelope and threw it in the trash beside and
unfolded the letter. It read:

Dear Author, Richard Smith,

This is to inform you, that your submission of sample
chapters and the summary of your novel has been surveyed
and we have taken it in our consideration.
We’ve found that your writing style is capable of
catching the interest of the general mass and shall sell
successfully. All we demand you now, is your complete man-
uscript.
We shall read your manuscript and after analyzing
we’ll inform you whether your novel is publishable or not.

Thanking You,

Nadia Crimsworth
(Editor-in-Chief)
 I was barmy out of ecstasy and the same day I went to post office and sent my
complete manuscript to the Publishing agency. And after a couple of weeks of anxiety, the reply
finally arrived.
It was a dull evening, when I was returning back after meeting an old friend of mine
who had recently been shifted in my neighbourhood. He had lately bought a new car, a good one with
convenient features and a somewhat classy look. It was for the exposure of his car that he had called
me, and the whole conversation of ours revolved around that car of his. I was literally bugged up,
talking about the same old car and adoring its magnificence (only if it possessed some). I somehow
managed to figure out some excuse and made my way out from that place of boredom. I wished I
could show him my car, which was far more attractive than his, but only if my car was not in repair. I
remember that day, when my car crashed with the tree trunk which completely ravaged its front
portion and since that day I had not sat in my car. With this thought, the thought of Diana came to my
mind and I recalled those beautiful moments of our togetherness, moments that we shared with each
other. Our silent expressions and bursting emotions…worth remembrance. The same divine sensation
passed all through me.
The dismal blue rays of the dusk had filled the street with its glumness. The sun was
setting on the other end, with its eyelids heavy with sleep. The birds were settled in their nests and in
such dull milieu, I had been walking along the forlorn street, shearing across the winter mist, with
clouds of vapours which sprouted out of my nose as I breathed. My day had been a dreary one,
following the same old routine, since the completion of my novel. My hopes have begun to fade and
was on the verge of turning to despair. There was no reply as yet. Maybe the Publishing agency has
lost its interest in my manuscript, but still, I used to check my mailbox daily…just to find
disappointment.
And so, that day while I was on my way back I thought that I should check my
mailbox. And so I did, bearing least expectations in my heart, which turned out to be useful as it was
only despondency that I got. The mailbox was empty as ever and as expected, I returned back with my
hand bearing nothing and my heart destitute of its desire. I walked back to the house and fished out the
key from the pocket and unlocked the door. The moment I stepped in, I felt something under my feet.
I instantly removed my feet and there lay an envelope concealed under the darkness of the house. I
wondered why the postman had slid it under the door rather than in my mailbox. I stooped down and
picked it up and to my amazement, the envelope was addressed to me sent by the same Publishing
agency. I prayed for a good news and tore the envelope. The letter read:

Dear Author, Richard Smith,

Congratulations! The submission of your complete
 manuscript has been accepted. And you’ll be a published
author very soon.
The story of your novel is found to be interesting
and the publication will start its work as soon as possible.
Probably, your novel will hit the market by late this winter
and your payments will be done very soon.
May your writing sell successfully after its release and
you flourish further as a writer. Good Luck.

With best wishes,

Nadia Crimsworth
(Editor-in-Chief)

It was an incredible moment for me. My eyes could not believe what it had just
witnessed. The moment felt like an illusion, but it was not, it was indeed the truth. I was floating with
melody of rapture, flying in the seventh heaven and resting on the cloud nine of my fate. Eventually,
my triumph, my success had beckoned me and I felt as if I was on the path of glory and riches. What
an emotion of revel flushed beneath my chest, as though I had the conquest of the whole world resting
under my palms. As though I had emerged as a victor of the battle I had been battling my entire life. A
glorious moment of incredulity and its splendid magnificence that made me proud of being myself ---
of being of some use to the world. Though it was a naïveté of a young and ambitious heart, but it was
implausible. Implausible indeed.
I felt like to celebrate, celebrate this occasion of my achievement. I did not want this
red letter day of my life to fleet in an ordinary manner, rather it should be such that remains marked in
the memoranda of my life as the most significant day. After all, my career has now commenced and
shall definitely prosper. I wished my parents would have been there, so that I could celebrate with
them, but sadly, they are far away in Liverpool, waiting for my return after the course of creative
writing and Literature was over. However, I was now familiar to London and had no such plan of
leaving it. It’s a beautiful place to stay in. Anyways, the first thing I did was to call my mother and tell
her that I now am a published writer and will soon aid father in increasing the income. My mother
began weeping on the telephone, listening to my voice after so long. She wished me luck and
informed me that father was out, else he would have talked to me. I wanted to talk more, but in the
middle, the line got cut and I did not call again.
I glanced out of the window, and now, the gloomy dusk appeared invigorating. I
wished I had someone of my own, who could witness my success and express a heartfelt elation upon
my achievement. But I had no one - just me and my seclusion. For the first time in life, I felt a need of
a person to whom I could express my feelings, with whom I could celebrate and even mourn. A
person, who would laugh at my victory and weep at my failure. Did I have such a person who cared
for me in a manner so amorous? I know not. But I needed one, desperately. I indeed bore the essence
of a friend…a caring spirit.
I banged my fist against the pane, for I do not know why, maybe agitation. Agitation
against my solitude, agitation against my incapability to enjoy my day to its extremity, agitation
against my disability to socialize. Certainly, I was a failure in this aspect, which I had never cared of
and for the first time its requisite is such that its turning this day of rejoice into a day of remorse. But I
won’t let it happen. I won’t.
I decided to close my eyes and see who is the first person that comes to my sight.
Who’s the person I care most for. I parted apart the panes and let the wind gush through my window. I
slowly closed my eyes, my face against the wind and my hair fluttering backward. A face began to
emerge before my eyes…so beautiful …so serene. Her long mahogany hair was flying behind. I
glanced at her eloquent deep blue eyes, concealing within itself an ocean of anguish. Her sharp face
with its beautiful features was glowing as ever and her little petite nose was breathing silently. Her
thick lips were glistening with a natural touch in it. And her perfect eyebrows were lifted above. She
seemed to me like a divine angel sent from heaven to envelope my sight. Just like a beautiful
melancholy chronicle. Indeed an epitome of beauty - Diana.
I slowly opened my eyes, mesmerized by the discovery that I had made. The
discovery of a person I bore the essence of. I did not move for a little while, only wheezed a sigh, a
sigh of incredulity that my love is exorbitant in a manner so avid. I was seized by my conscience
which whispered to me that my heart was now pounding only for her, my princess. And I was sunk
beneath the blissful ocean of what we name as ‘Love’.
A rapturous sensation swirled within me and a sudden urge of a reconciliation with
Diana ignited in my heart. I wanted to see her, to feel her, wanted to exchange smiles, to drench her in
my delirium of elation, to hold her in my arms and grasp her grief through my touch, to delight her till
she pleases, to bring a smile upon her countenance…to share my love with her.
And within a moment I was perturbed. Perturbed because of my strong anxiety to
feel the presence of Diana before my sight. She was the one with whom I ‘wished’ this dusk to sulk to
night in high spirits. I promised to myself that I would not breach my own resolution and endeavour to
my furthermost extent to make Diana join my pleasure. But how will I morph my ‘wish’ to reality? I
know not, but I was resolute to do so. Indeed I was.
I remember the day we were together in the hospital. That day, Diana gave me her
telephone number and I wrote it on a piece of paper and fished it inside my trousers’ pocket. And after
that, I did not have even the slightest idea, where it could be. Maybe, I had kept it in a safe place, from
where its conspicuous for it was of significant importance to me. But maybe not, because that evening,
I remember, my departure was pretty furious after being insulted by that unscrupulous rascal, Henry or
whatever he may be, after which, the whole day I had been drenched in the fervour of frenzy, and little
do I recall my actions that followed. I searched the whole house to catch the glimpse of that tiny piece
of paper but nowhere could I sight its sign. I had ransacked all the drawers and wardrobes, the bed
sheets, the tables and chairs and everything else that had its dwelling in my house, until I was
wretched out of this tiresome job. I almost gave up and reclined on the chair. I looked around and it
appeared to me as if a furious battle had eroded away the splendour of my house. Everything around
seemed bland.
I glanced out of the window and the dusk appeared darker. Despite of my profound
urge of a reconciliation with the princess of my dreams, I was powerless. And it seemed to me that I
now had to breach my own resolution and efface my intended desires, for I could not discern even the
darkest method that would aid my path. I remained oblivious of what to do, when suddenly it struck
my mind that I should check the pocket of the trouser I had worn that day. I darted towards the
wardrobe with a new hope that rekindled within me and raided over it, checking the pockets of each
trouser, for I scarcely recall which one was that I had been in search of. I continued with my
plundering until I got hold of the piece of paper I had been yearning of. I outspread the crumpled
paper and placed it on the table. The ink had somewhat faded but I could clearly make out the
numbers written upon it. I instantly ran for the telephone and dialled the numbers, ignorant of what to
say. I waited for a little while, for the telephone to be held on the other end. And finally, I got the
likelihood to adore my fate for once. The telephone was picked and I spoke my mind.
“Hello” I said “may I speak to Ms. Roosevelt”
“Speaking”
It was Diana’s voice, which thrilled me to the core. However, I pretended casual.
“Diana” I said “this is Richard, remember me”
There was silence on the other end for sometime, after which, I witnessed a burst of ecstatic emotions.
“Goodness gracious!” Diana almost cried “is it really you, Richard?”
“yeah, its really me” I replied, smiling “remember me?”
“Of Course I do” she exclaimed “don’t be silly”
“I feel so good, listening to your voice after so long” I said
“same here” she replied “and…what else?”
“So, how are you these days?” I asked
“fine, and you?” she replied
“cool” I answered “and what about your injury, is it alright?”
“Ah! That, its fine” she said “its fit and fine, very well”
“that’s good to hear” I said “by the way, I needed a favour from you”
“sure, why not?”
“look Diana” I said “from today, I am going to be a published writer”
“oh! That’s awesome”
“but on this day of celebration” I continued “I am feeling lonely”
Diana said nothing. I could hear only breaths.
“I would love it” I continued “if I could have your presence, we’ll celebrate together”
“But…Richard” she said in a hesitant tone “shall I?”
“The decision is upon you” I whispered “entirely upon you”
Diana wheezed a long sigh, then quietly breathed “I’ll be there”
“Thanks a lot”
I kept the receiver and sulked, gazed at the dusk for a little while, and began with
the arrangements that would suit the pleasure of my visitor. Now nothing in existence can hider me
quench my desire, no, not even my fate. Nothing shall torment me, of my intended requisite of the
pleasure, I had been in yearning of. Diana was arriving in a short while, to attest that my love is
reciprocated. But the beauty of ‘Love’ is that, it does not require any attestations. It’s an undefined
emotion that needs no words for its conveyance. And so, I endeavoured my best to make the following
moments appear in a manner that would further bloom the feelings beneath our hearts - Love.
It took me quite long, making the arrangements, but it indeed restore my efforts in
the form of its splendour. I gave a glance back, the whole house was dimly illuminated by the candles,
placed on their holders, scattered around and everywhere in a decorum so romantic that would pour
out emotions even from the vindictive heart of a Satan.
I shut the door behind me, and sauntered out, under the grim bluish darkness of the
sulking dusk. Standing in obscurity, with the best piece of suiting I had, I awaited for her arrival. But
little was I aware that my fate was a tyrant, and shall return to display the malignity of its fortune, that
it would torment me, torment me until my hope turns despair. Until the anticipation of my delight
churns down to desolation and anguish, which would agonize me till I kneel before it to beg for its
mercy, and never will this unforgiving fiend release me of its evil seizure. Why do I learn each chapter
of my life in such a hard way; I know not, but its miserable, miserable indeed. And here’s one
testimony of the venomousness of my fate.
I earnestly continued to wait for her arrival, but in vain, she never came. And I
vowed not to reappear in my house until my eyes catch a glimpse of hers. What was it that
strengthened my resolution; I know not, but I waited, yes I did. My eyes witnessed the dusk heaving to
night and the night darkening deeper and further deep, crossing midnight but not the boundaries of my
endurance. And I did not infringe the assertion that I made to myself, until my endurance displayed its
insolence and my eyes grew heavy and I lay asleep on the stairs before my house.
Hours passed by, and I remained asleep in oblivion, like a beggar on the streets. My
efforts and endeavours to immerse my love in a whirl of ecstasy, flowed with the stream of futility.
And the imprudence that the circumstance bore was indeed worth the deviousness of a hundred hells.
What the devil thwart my love to saunter my path; I remained ignorant, but the devil did succeed to
ravage my peace and tolerance. But still, there kindled a lamp of hope, which whispered to me that my
love is hearing my heart’s beseech. And scarcely did I know, that this lamp of hope will soon ignite.
That such moments would approach, which will be no less than the delusion of my fantasy.
It was at the depth of night, when I was lying on the cold cemented stairs, breathing
the dust through my nostrils. The night was so very misty, and cold, but the wind was still. I was
partly unconscious and knew nothing. My eyes were dreary and tired on the brink of closing. I could
sense the weather and the some little figures of dogs at some distance roaming about. I evinced out a
cold breath and then my eyes closed…
Suddenly, I felt a hand at my shoulder, but not a motion did I make. The hand
shuddered me a little and my eyes partly opened. My eyes chased the path of the lady-like hand to her
face. She was Diana, with her eyes, bursting with fresh tears and her lips quivering. I gazed at her for
sometime, and a drop of tear trickled down my cheek. An immeasurable pleasure did I seek to catch a
glimpse of her face, and to satiate my own self that my love is too innocent for betrayal and that my
heart’s beseech was not unheard. I floundered back to my feet and swung my arms around her chest
and wept bitterly on her shoulder, until my tears were soaked through her dress.
“What took you so long, Diana” I stuttered, weeping “tell me”
Diana’s eyes were red and watery, tears were dripping down ceaselessly from her eyes, her nose and
cheeks went red. And with quivering lips, she managed to utter.
“I fought my way, Richard” she lamented “fought my way from the devil”
I wiped her tears by my thumb and asked who that merciless devil was.
“Henry” she replied “the fiend in human’s disguise”
I said nothing, just glanced at Diana. She was dressed exactly as I first saw her, indeed like a white
angel.
“I did so much for your welcome, Diana” I said
“I am so sorry, Richard” she replied “I would walk through a thousand hells to deem my regret”
“you need not” I replied “I would bear anything for you…anything”
“Oh! Richard” she cried “I am there for you…always”
Earnest were her expression, resplendent with purity, in a manner that filled the air with the redolence
of cordial love.
I held her hand and escorted her in my house. My eyes witnessed a miraculous
spectacle. The candles were still burning alight, though their size diminished but were perching
ablaze. The night fleeted in the merriest manner I could have imagined, with not a tint less that would
evince a compliant against its grandeur. The night was glittering with celebration and profound
romance and I whirled Diana through the waltz on the rhythm of the music, fed her with compliments
and heightened her beauty with the flush of gratified vanity. A night, that impinged its magnificence
upon my memories, which would glitter in my reminiscences each time I recall back.
.......................................................

Chapter VI

Time has such an intense encroach upon a human’s life; I never knew, until I had
experienced it myself. And I had witnessed its vestige upon our acquaintance, which had now
intensely deepened, the acquaintance of which my heart has been in earnest desire of, the acquaintance
of Diana and me. The night, when evinced a burst of emotions, when I swirled Diana along the floor,
when it was only the romantic music that reigned over our sanity and blooming love that enveloped
our vision. The night, which birthed this exquisite acquaintance, was the pioneer of this relationship,
the relationship that we share, where kindled the flame of affection and fancy in the hearts of ours
burning alight for each other.
After that night, circumstances had changed. Those solitary hours of seclusion had
now lost its existence, for I was bequeathed by a companion I cherish the most, in the presence of
whom I found a measure of delight, a companion whose essence I bore passionately - Diana. This
bond of ours now strengthened further, for we approached a rather frequent gatherings and meetings
from thence. Generally in the morning, we used to gather in the park and saunter along the lush green
grass and the tranquil foliage dancing on the rhythm of the cool breeze under the immense overcast
sky, shearing across the thick haze which enveloped our sights far and wide, we walked, with the
transaction of words and expressions and the interminable conversation of our demeanours, breaching
every door of our hearts for seeking a glance beneath.
Sometimes, we used to meet at cafeterias and restaurants and even at my place quite
a number of times. Our reconciliation was now rather regular and so was our amity and we found
immense pleasure in each other’s camaraderie. Our companionship intensified with a colossal measure
and even the thought of severance offered a pulse to my veins. I had now deciphered Diana’s inner
persona which flushes within me a sense of gratified vanity, for her soul, as I perceived it, was
resplendent with purity and utter chastity, yet I could discern no stains of imbecility or inanity in her
character. In terms of informal wisdom, I suppose she was average, but she was of a sort that did not
preferred the exposure of such acumen and rather hindered herself to slip onto informal terms or
behaviour, and I considered this as a virtue of hers. The finest asset that I could observe in her, was
her composure, whose traits I could always witness reflecting upon her countenance and actions. Even
at the worst circumstances, she never acted panicked or terrified, rather, she managed the situation
with earnest equanimity. But there was one quality that was particularly conspicuous upon her
personality, the stimulus of hers towards emotions. Indeed, she was and emotional person, which was
evident by her incapability to stop the tears trickle down her eyes. I had experienced it quite a number
of times, and one such experience I am about to narrate. We were in my house, Diana and me, and it
was dusk. Everywhere around was darkness, only the faint gloomy rays of dusk was penetrating
through my window. The whether was cold and foggy and inside the cosy house, I sat, narrating the
story of my novel to Diana, which was a tragic romance. We sat there for long, until I completed my
narration and heaved a sigh. The moment I looked back into her eyes, I saw them dabbed with tears,
which were pooling down her cheek and after a moment she clung to my chest and wept. I felt like to
laugh at her naïveté, but I didn’t, it would hurt her. And thus, I portray the guise of her persona as I
had perused it and sometimes wonder whether I deserve her or not. But unavailing is this angst, for
when I glance beneath to her heart, its my name which it bears.
Today, in the morning, while I was reading a novel, I received a call from Diana.
Diana’s voice seemed eager and elated. She said that she wished to meet me in the cafeteria Le
Meridian, this afternoon. I was quite uncomfortable with the afternoon, but I could not deny, for I
could peruse the solemn expectation of my concede in her voice which hindered me speak my mind
and utter only a single word of relent ‘sure’. Diana imposed me a timing of two of the afternoon and I
agreeably acquiesced, without pushing further. And within a moment we bid each other adieu and kept
the receiver. I could not decipher her psyche behind the choice of such a peculiar time for meeting, but
was indeed pleased that she confided in me enough to share her emotions and for such a conceit of her
delegation in me, I could contravene even the paramount of limits of intricacy and turmoil.
The afternoon that day, was not as anticipated. It was vaguely unlike from usual
days. There was an aroma of discontent and crisis stirred in the air and I was dismayed in low spirits
in those hours of daylight. What I sought, was briefly dissimilar to what I intended. My disposition, at
that moment implored for some peace and solitude, some coffee and rest, some thinking and writing,
some equanimity and repose…some time with me and my own essence. But my conscience whispered
to me that I should abide by my scruples and not breach my own tongue, for the price I had to pay to
acquire my desires would be incredibly immense so as to make me regret my whole life, a stain of my
imprudence would induce in her reminiscences, which I never would be able to efface. And to obviate
such a condescension of my ethics and morale, the price appears too little.
I set out early, that afternoon, at about one ‘o’ clock. For the first time in the winter
of this year, the sun appeared bright and burnished and vanquished the grey cloak to spread its yellow
expanse. I experienced a little heat and droplets of perspiration poured out of my forehead. Primarily, I
thought that I would journey through my car, but insolent was my fate, for my car had ran out of fuel.
Pretty upset by the rude discovery, I was obliged to hire a cab, which I despised passionately. The day
was not on my favour, for I underwent a slight headache and a nauseated feeling all through my
journey in the cab. The cab left me at a signal close to the cafeteria and from there, I ambled my way
to the cafeteria Le Meridian.
It was a roofless cafeteria, but quite a renowned one. Situated at the side of the
street, it attracted many a people’s attention, but today it appeared to me as a dull hot afternoon
phenomenon of awaiting. And so it was, for after almost half an hour of anticipation of her arrival, her
car finally came to my sight and out of it, stepped out Diana, the glimpse of whom, purged off my
anxiety and anguish and I began to exalt my own self for not falling foul of my own resolution, it
indeed appear a blasphemy to refrain my eyes adore a sight which seemed to be the epitome of style
and seduction. It was Diana who spelled around her an enigma which enthralled and captivated my
senses through the extremity of her beauty and the profound bloom of youth. I was enticed and
beguiled by the magnetism she propagated around her and an amorous sensation of exult flushed
within me as Diana, in her exotic white dress and a translucent black lady-like hat, with her white
purse hanging down her arms, made her way close to me. What was it, I know not, but that day, she
indeed enraptured me with the overwhelming charisma she bore, which evinced out an intense
veneration from my heart for the angel in disguise - Diana.
Diana reclined on the seat before me, with her chin gleaming in sunlight and the
shade of her hat hanging down to her nose.
“you’re looking incredibly beautiful” I remarked “beautiful indeed”
A gratified smile broke on her lips and she silently nodded.
“You like my dress” she whispered, merrily.
“Yes, yes, I do” I replied “its…its gorgeous”
“Thank you” she said twitching her nose “by the way, there’s a good news I have”
“Well! Then” I said “you should not delay to crack it”
Within a moment, our conversation was interrupted by the presence of the waiter, who was
continuously gazing at Diana.
“Good afternoon, sir” he said, with his eyes fixed at Diana “may I help you”
“Well! Yes” I said “bring me a coffee, strong one, less sugar”
“Would you like to have something, Diana?” I confirmed.
Diana knitted her eyebrows and replied “no thanks, but I am in on diet schedule”
“Ah! Okay” I said, then looked up at the waiter and said “that’s it, thank you”
“anything else, sir?”
I smiled and glanced up at him and said “well, you can do something”
“what, sir?” he asked, quite perplexed.
“well! You can stop staring her, okay” I said
Diana widened her eyes with incredulity and an impish grin overtook her countenance. I gave a
momentary glance up at the waiter. His cheeks were blushing and his eyes were unable to meet mine.
and with intense audacity he managed to smile and uttered “well! Madam is indeed worth staring, you
cannot deprive me of my right, after all, you too are a man, and I think you are well aware of a man’s
fantasies, are you not?”
I smiled again at his good sense of wit, which I suppose reduced his embarrassment and bid him go,
after which I faced Diana’s incredulous expressions and statements.
“you’re impossible” she said “why did you do this”
I shrugged, smiling.
“oh! God” she said “didn’t you see he was so embarrassed”
I began laughing, for I do not know what, but I laughed.
“what happened to you” she said with a slight grin “I mean, why are you laughing?”
“because, I think it was funny” I said “don’t you think so”
“okay I surrender” she said “happy”
“now that’s better” I replied “by the way, what was the good news”
“well! Richard” she said “first you stop laughing”
I pressed my finger against my lips and said “now, proceed”
“okay” she said “do you remember the company I told you about”
“well! Not exactly”
“Oh! You forget so early” she said “anyways, that company has signed a modelling contract with me”
“Ah! That’s awesome” I exclaimed “so, what are doing, I mean any celebration or something”
“No, nothing of that sort”
“Alright” I said “so, I am glad that you finally got it”
“Yah” she shrugged, biting her lips merrily.
“Which company, by the way?”
“Well! It’s a very famous one” she replied “Mont Blanc”
“Oh! I have a pen of that brand”
“Its a famous one” she repeated.
I smiled inwardly, when again the same waiter arrived and placed down the coffee and scurried away,
hastily.
“So, Diana” I said “when will you start your work with Mont Blanc”
“Soon, maybe in a month or so”
“That’s very good” I said sipping the coffee.
I looked down for a moment, then raised my eyes and glanced up at Diana. I was horrified for a
moment by the look she sparked. Her expression was stony and her eyes were fixed at something
behind me and she kept gazing without even a flick of her eyelids. She watched agape, with her lips
quivering a little.
“what happened Diana?” I asked, consternated. And in a moment my eyes witnessed the cause of her
terror. Henry came roaring, from behind and clutched her arm tightly. He rose her up from the seat,
while she cried, fidgeting for a release. I could not withstand this extremity of insolence, and the
impertinence of his behaviour incited a vivacious enthuse within my heart and I rose up from my seat
to render a clash. But my impassion was too weak before the demented frenzy of insanity, in which he
was stirred, so feeble, that a single punch of his knocked me down to the floor. A warm, excited thrill
ran through my veins; my blood seemed to give a bound and then, raced fast and hot along its
channels. I was gushed in a fury of passion bursting with ire and furore. An intense fervour of wrath
erupted within me, but by the time I rose up, it was too late, the commotion was over. The fiend had
staggered her to the car, which absconded away and out of my sight. While I remained drenched in the
ardour of fervidity.

…………………………………….
 Chapter VII

Solitude is what I despise to an extent intimate to insanity. But tyrant are the
circumstances, which exhibits its impertinence by tormenting me with what I detest. My fate is an
insolent autocrat, which averts my heart to seek its contentment, and writes its brutal destiny, despite
of its travail to seek repose, the destiny which my heart earnestly abhors - seclusion.
As was my heart’s condition, so was the day. The house was all dark and grim, and
the weather was ominous. The fervent drops of rain were pattering against the panes and the dull
overcast sky of the dusk was desolate of a wing’s flap. Not a glimpse of a mortal soul could my eyes
catch, far and wide its sight. And in the midst of this ocean of austerity, I sat by my window, bearing a
heart destitute of its desire, weeping at the indigence of its crave. But such were the weeps, which
flowed with the stream of futility.
I peered out of the panes and witnessed the penance that the deity was rebating
upon its blunder of creation of humans and its vain efforts to wash the earth of its sin by the showers
of heaven, which were dropping down ceaselessly from the dismal woeful sky. My spirit was
insolvent of a caring touch, seared of a gentle ally, it beseeched the essence of a friend, of which it
was parched, but there’s a brief divergence between what one desires and what one attains, and
probably I was an ace at this knowledge of variance. What was stirred in the air; I know not, but there
was a redolence of dejection and glumness, a sullen morose was what I could perceive descended
upon my heart, a remorse of isolation and a dread of the desolation of my heart, even at its darkest
hour and its deepest despair. But who was to heed, I was secluded, I was lonely.
 I glance back at the vista of my memories, and the only glimpses I perceive is that
of my solitude. The solitude borne out of a lust of which I had always been ignorant, which conceals
away its identity from the fathom of mine, a lust afar from my comprehension. But the lust was such
that bore a sinew which possessed the dominion to bind me beneath the shackles of its covet. And I
watched my sentiments being trodden down under the march of its triumph over my heart’s desires.
But today, I strengthened a resolution of not halting the incarcerated anguish beneath my chest to
descend over my psyche and let them surge through my eyes, if the agony bears such potency.
Why won’t my heart aggrieve of its despair and wail for its misery, when a
heartache so avid with woe reigns over its realm, as a victor before its fancies. When the passionate
urge of a reconciliation with my family is trampled beneath the sovereignty of lonesome, when the
intense crave for a social circle is crushed beneath my incapability to socialize. But maybe, this
tyranny of my fate is inevitable and I shall console my heart to bear its dire insolence, for I could see
no trail that guides me out of its seizure.
Distress pursues my path and my strength abates before its trials to enervate my spirit
and this strife against the circumstances persists until the strife attains its eventual destiny, the destiny
which always acquaints the failure of my fortitude. Even the tint of my fortune had gone insipid and
had let its blaze go astray. The only lamp of hope now that replenishes my soul by its faint flare even
in the most poignant moments of profound dismay is the acquaintance upon which I feel a sense of
conceit, the acquaintance of Diana and me. But what ails me, is the foresight of its shatter. Indeed, I
can feel this splendid acquaintance falling apart before my eyes and I, standing bare before the
disgraceful humiliation of my heart’s desires by the felonious hands of my providence, my fate. And
certainly, I cannot bear this severance, for now, I have given my heart to her, and my senses would
cease without its heart.
For a couple of weeks past that incidence, I had not had a glimpse of Diana, which
has struck its vestige upon my sanity in a manner so excruciating that each mark of repose had strayed
out from my mind and its only a sheer lunacy that reigns over my psyche. I was aware that this
separation was not a deliberate act of Diana, rather she would have been incarcerated in the seizure of
those brutes, in the hearts of whom, resides an absolute spitefulness against me. Henry, the miscreant
in my eyes was the author of this separation, who for his own voracity can shear the shaft of any
emotion that ails his path, the malignity of his heart was up to an extent that even a rancorous devil
would fall apprehensive before it. But scarcely was I aware, that the approaching moments would
prove to me that futile was my remorse, for the strength of love can withstand a hundred of such
venom hearts and its flame owns a might which can ashen numerous of such fiends, despite of their
intense covet to extinguish this flame of love.
The rain was now a trifle less vehement, even the sky turned darker and I rose up
from the chair considering it vain to curse the impudence of my fate, for its venomousness would not
smother by descending over myself a sullen morose and its impudence would prevail despite of my
incessant trials to soothe my forlorn heart of its destitution. This thought of mine, relieved me a little
and I poured the water in a glass and quenched my thirst, when suddenly the telephone rung. I did not
prefer to receive that call, but after a little aversion, I finally picked it up.
“Hello” I said.
There was no response from the other end.
“hello” I said again.
There was no response still.
“Is anybody there?”
No response.
Considering it to be a blank call, I hung the receiver, but as I did so, I heard faint voices from the
telephone. I kept it completely, but the voice was still lingering in my mind. I again drank the water
and wiped my lip. I do not know why but my instinct whispered to me that I should see who was on
the line and I held the receiver again. To my surprise, the line at the other end was not yet cut. I tried
to listen carefully, however the churning sound of the phone disturbed me quite a bit.
“Hello” I shouted “whose this?”
But nothing could I hear.
Suddenly, I heard screams and cries of a lady, which was distant from the telephone.
“Hello” I shouted loudly “is anybody there?”
Soon I heard several more screams, screams of struggle. There were two things I was certain about.
That the cries were of a lady and her mouth was covered. Who can she be?
“Hello” I screamed “can you listen to me?”
No replies, except screams and cries.
Suddenly, I heard the creak of a door on the other end of the line and heard the steps of shoes, which
rather sounded male. However I was not certain about my conjecture.
“Hello, Sir” I said “Can you hear me?”
I heard the steps stop and a male voice spoke.
“I am sorry, madam” the voice said “but I have been instructed to do so”
A loud cry of disgust followed. I tried to listen more carefully, when suddenly the male voice spoke.
“its not me, madam” the voice said “Its all Sir Henry’s instruction”
And with this, the line got cut.
“Sir Henry’s instruction” I murmured to myself and the situation on the other end, cleared before my
vision, which whirled me in a spasm of fury.
I was drenched beneath the delirium of frenzy and a vehemence of fanaticism
overwhelmed my psyche. An upsurge of intense furore and ire fulminated beneath my chest and I was
resolute to cleave every limit of insolence to seize my love from the immensely vile circumstance in
which she was immersed. It was an opportunity for me to redeem the indignation of mine, by the
hands of the devil in human’s disguise and to prove that ‘Love’ does not flow through the barrel of the
gun, but by hearts amorously affectionate to each other. And I was determined that this fervour of
exasperation would not pacify until my heart is quenched of its intention. And I set out to accomplish
it.
Within a moment, I was in my car, hustling through the streets at an insane speed
and another moment, I was outside Diana’s mansion, standing before the colossal gates, shuddering
them for the watchmen to attend. But futile were my endeavours, for I sensed that there was not a
mortal soul that would help me. I glanced up at the gates and wondered at the complexity it would
render me in overcoming its strength. However, I was not dangled of my resolution, for my
determination was such that even the paramount of limits of intricacy would fail to sway me of my
perseverance. I tried to devise a plot to enter the gates and I ran back to my car, splashing the wet
ground by my shoes. I boarded in the car and drove it until it reached close to the gates. I stepped out
and tried to mount the bonnet of the car, in which I was easily successful. My next step was to catch
hold of the top of the gate and somehow manage to scramble up, however it was not simple to do so.
On the first attempt, I pushed myself up to a little distance, but then slumped down badly upon the car.
But my intention was so intense that it made me unheeding to pains and I tried once more. This time I
caught the gate and placed my leg on an iron rod adjoining from below and pushed myself up. I
rendered all my strength to lift up to the top of the gate and after much exertions I finally was resting
on the top of the gate, looking down preparing to jump. I closed my eyes, mumbled a few prayers and
jumped down to the ground. My legs experienced an intense strain as I thudded on the ground and not
able to rise up for a little while. But when I got up, I noticed that there was a long scar on my arm and
blood was oozing out of it. I touched my forehead and sensed some wounds there too, however, little
were their vestige upon my resolution. I glanced aside at the lawn and noticed a short hammer at some
distance. I instantly ran to pick it up and then to the door. I broke the lock of the door by the hammer
and threw it open. The house was lit up, and the noise of the screams were striking my ears. I followed
the noise and mounted up the flight of stairs which brought me to an artistically decorated large hall
alongside which were several rooms and from one of these rooms the noise was coming. I went in
pursuit of that noise, checking each room, until my conjecture turned to reality as I opened the door of
one of those rooms.
Diana was in front of my eyes, sitting in one corner, resting her back against the
wall. Her hair was dishevelled, her mouth taped, her wrists and feet were fastened. Her forehead was
full of little sprinkles of shining sweat and her eyes were bursting with innocent tears, which were
now blazing with hope at the sight of mine. Her neck and chest were wet with perspiration and so was
her black dress and at her side, there was a telephone. The sight stirred me in a convulsion of extreme
dudgeon and a profound sense of rage descended over my senses against the sinner, an insane
paroxysm of wrath was what reigned over my sanity and I lost my conscience. I walked forward to
rescue her, when suddenly I heard the creak of the door. I turned back with my eyes burning with
rage. It was the same butler, whom I had described in the hospital. He was entering with a demonic
look, which soon froze with terror at the sight of mine. I walked towards him and my countenance
spoke it all - my intention. He was standing stock-still before me, when I ground my teeth, clenched
my fist and punched him hard on his face. He was knocked down at once and I crushed his face
beneath my shoes until I regained my conscience. I looked back at Diana and saw fiery of delight and
contentment scorching in her eyes, which made my own eyes glimmer with conceit.
I unfastened her wrists and legs and removed the tape deliberately from her mouth.
She smiled with her dry lips and an emotion of intense compassion flowed through my sentiments and
I held her hands and got her out. And off we went, strolling abreast in the moonlit night on the forlorn
streets, when the fragrance of romanticism was all around and everywhere. When our hearts
conversed with intense geniality, unleashing the profound love concealed beneath our hearts for each
other. Those were impulses of genuine love, which we could not control. I observed her amorous
demeanour, the red flame of love that flared ablaze only for me and my heart was measuring its own
content; it sounded and sounded, and found the depth fathomless.
And together we mounted up one of the hills of the Beverly hills, with my arms
rounding her waist, as if it was my possession. And when together we reached the summit, I felt as if I
should confess my greatest pleasure to her. We stood facing each other with the winds blowing on the
summit, fluttering our hair along with it. The moment was resplendent with the aroma of profound
romance, when I held her hand and whispered to her my heart’s crave.
“Diana” I said “I’ve got to tell you something”
I could see her cheeks blush and the pretence of unawarity of my intention was conspicuous on her
face.
“Tell me” she breathed
“I am in love with you” I uttered softly.
A drop of tear trickled down her cheek and I grasped her arm. A provocative smile
quenched in her deep blue eyes and a ray of gentle homage shone under the lids in its place. I grabbed
her face and brought it close to mine. Her lips touched mine and I could only wish this could continue
till eternity. However, it felt like a beautiful moment of a glorious life, which was worth an age
without a name.

………………………………………..
 Chapter VIII

I felt the cold dews touching my ears, which tingled my senses and my lips quivered
a bit. I could sense the wind, the cool breeze blowing across me which enticed me of its elegant poise
and its genteel flair. The novelty of the air resplendent with freshness filled me with the vivacity of
exuberance. And the charisma of its grandeur ensnared me to open my eyes, and the sight broke a
smile on my lips…
A dove flapped its wings before my eyes and vanished away in the immense blue
sky embellished by the fleecy clouds, illuminated a trifle by the sedate demure rays of the golden
sphere resting above the horizon. The twitter of the birds and their voyage in the sky was an art of a
master virtuoso being, which spelled a chant that inveigled my interest of its chaste vibrant beauty and
I failed to halt a stare at its unblemished magnificence. The mist blended in the air invigorated my
senses by its pure essence of flavoured freshness of sterility. The verdant foliage swaying on the
cadence of the soft breeze and the boasting hills with its lush greenery enveloped my sight far and
wide, and in the midst of the bravura vividness of this splendid piece of artistic beauty, I lay resting on
the grassy summit of a hill, away from the vicious side of the world. And what more could my desire
be, when in the splendour of such picturesque dawn I had my love with me, which quenched my soul
of its profound thirst. It was the end of all my heart’s desires.
I sat up on the grass, and in a covet of not conceding the opulent splendour of such
scenic dawn without my complete participation in exalting its regal grandeur, which no artist can
portray even in the masterpiece of his art, I admired its lurid phenomenon of resplendence. The sight
before my eyes, rushed within me a contempt so avid for the actual world which appears a cauldron of
felony before this pristine magnum opus of beauty. The moment made me deem the influence of time,
the vestige of its varied phases upon one’s life, and a memory rushed through my reminiscences, a
time when I was cursing my fate of its insolent tyranny of unheeding my heart’s beseech and its
desires for contentment, when the vindictiveness of the circumstances was such that incited a
revulsion of abomination between my providence and my craves, and I wondered when this strife
within my own self would meet its destination, when will the implores of my heart be heard. That
time, I had not viewed the vista of my future and scarcely was I aware that my fate will splurge its
bounty of divine pleasure so soon. And thus, the diversion of the situations beholds a colossal void
amid them, for the present circumstance was the paradox of the past, and its marvel was such that
exceeded the realm of my fantasies and imagination. Indeed the utopia of my dreams, with the breeze
of which my heart was floating.
For a moment I glanced backwards and what my eyes witnessed was a paradigm of
profound beauty, an exemplar of charismatic charm which reposed my heart by its sensuously
endearing magnetism. Her very long, very pretty features having the bloom and freshness of youth
resorted by the fine wind blowing across her complexion and by the animation of eyes which it had
also produced, compelled me to stare at her with a measure of earnest admiration, which she could not
be insensible of. And I continued my gaze, until a coquettish smile broke on her lips and she uttered
“what?”. I said nothing, only looked down and smiled. I comprehended the inability of hers to fare
through the novelty of our relationship which was yet too fresh for her. I felt the agitation of the heart ;
I saw ‘the purple light of love’ cast its glowing reflection on cheeks, temples and neck. I desired to
consult the eye, but sheltering lash and lid forbade. Beneath the composure her countenance, I could
discern the gratified flare of affection burning alight for me, which flaunted all over her visage and let
her endeavours in the pretence of facileness go astray.
I called her by my side and rounded my arms around her shoulders with exceeding
tenacity. Sorely confounded she seemed during the lapse of first few moments ; but the incredulity
soon subsided. Terror did not succeed, nor fury. Discomfiture might have impelled her to contend but
her sense of worth checked resistance, where resistance was futile. And thus, together we relished the
oeuvre of the intense beauty of nature, until the sun gained its altitude and the chirps of the birds
lessened, until the lanes downward were inhabited and until we kissed each other adieu. However, the
moment of departure intruded a melancholy poignance over my senses, but futile was my remorse, for
every phase has its conclusion…yes, even the repose of pleasure.
Love is so beautiful, I never knew. Its fathomless intensity is deeply profound,
which renders one a boundless measure of ecstasy and contentment. Every yearn of the heart appears
quenched and even the quest of the spirit to seek repose of gratification seems appeased. It’s a sort of
inconceivable emotion, that fills each moment of one’s existence with intense elation, and a euphoria
of divine pleasure descends upon one’s sanity, which remains concealed beneath the veneer of
insouciance of one’s character. It endows one with a sense of exorbitant spiritual pleasure, a
transcendent bliss, which is erupted by the bottom of pure passions of amorous love. Pristine and
chaste is this exquisite emotion, which bequeath one with a sensation of immense rapture, yet
succeeds to confer solace. Such is its potency, of which I was oblivious until I had triumphed over the
heart I most desired for. Indeed, ‘the realm of love’ is no other place than paradise…
Later that evening, the azure depth of the twilight sky rested before my vision as a
cryptic conundrum, whose beauty I entirely perceived, but enigma failed to construe. I could not
comprehend its intense profundity and neither did I crave for it, for my vision sought this spectacle as
a piece of art which is intended to cede pleasure and not to fathom its intricacy. In the vista before my
sight I envisaged the azure depth of Diana’s eyes, its sedate composure, its blasé serenity, its
appeasing placate, its every aspect is so palliative, that even the enormity of the sky and the intensity
of the ocean can be devoured amid her lids beneath the depth of her eyes. And I hindered not my heart
to envision the panorama of the queen of my dreams, for it bestows to my heart a colossal measure of
internal equanimity, a bliss that seldom fleets through one’s veins. And thus, I spared the moments,
riveted in the profound stream of placidity, which found its abode within my heart and vaguely peered
at the sky until its azurite turned intense raven.
However, the moments of contentment were indeed limited, for what confined them
was an agony of anxiety and trepidation, and it followed thus.
I peered outside the window, and glanced at the forlorn street, veiled by the miasma
which lay indistinct under the cloak of the cosmic darkness of the sky. But my heart was humming the
tunes of severe gratification, for an unsurpassed extent of indulgence and an invigorated sense of
exhilaration was what dominated my sanity, and though the weather did not correspond with my
preference, I was resolute to proceed with a walk, for its depravity had no vestige over my resolution,
as my heart was floating with the zephyr of serene contentment, which was unheeding to any turmoil.
Indeed, the cadence of love beholds a might to morph the vision of malignity to a vista of benignity.
And so, with a merry soul replenished of its desires, I put on my overcoat and began
to set out for the walk, when suddenly the doorbell rang and I rushed towards it to open. Unlatching
the door, I opened it and my eyes met the eyes of the miscreant of our story - Henry. The man was
dressed in a grey suit, which was somewhat flaunting his personality and for the first time, I observed
on his visage a sense of discomfiture which was so seldom to be viewed upon his face. Even his eyes
were not blazing with intrinsic animosity and indeed, I failed to discern the innate flame of enmity and
acrimony which used to perch alight at the sight of mine. He appeared rather gentle.
“Good evening” he said “may I come in?”
“Sure, come in”
Henry stepped in and I bid him hold a seat on the couch. I was completely stupefied by the gentleness
in his speech, which I was not accustomed to hear from his mouth. However, it was apparent that he
was pretty mortified by his behaviour as I last saw him.
“Quite a good house” he remarked, analysing my house vaguely.
“thanks” I replied “would you prefer coffee?”
He looked at me blankly for a little while, then finally uttered “oh! Yes”
“Well! Then” I said and vanished into the kitchen and heated the already prepared coffee. Within
moments, I came out holding the tray and kept it on the table amid the couch and reclined on the seat
opposite to Henry’s.
“So, what’s the matter?” I asked
“Well!” he paused, stirring sugar in his coffee “its quite a serious one”
My interest ignited at once.
“what do you mean by that?” I asked, sipping.
“well! Richard” he said “you are to be present at Diana’s mansion tomorrow”
“Tomorrow!” I exclaimed “but…what’s the occasion?”
“there’s no occasion as such” he replied calmly “well! In a way, there is”
I could again scrutinize the flare of ingenuity igniting slowly in his eyes.
“tell me clearly” I demanded “what’s the matter?”
I noticed his lips widening to a sneer.
“Don’t be so impatient, Richard” he said “its okay”
“Look, Henry” I said “do not allow me lose my temper”
“Aha!” he exclaimed “as if I am afraid”
Every bit of gentility that I viewed upon his face, had now vanished and it retained its previous
venomousness with which was stirred a soaring sense of vanity.
“well! The cause for your presence is” he added “that tomorrow, Diana’s father is arriving from
Texas”
My heart missed a beat, however, I did not expose my emotions.
“and I think” he said “he wishes to see you”
“but why?”
“why not, I ask” he said “after all, he’s a dad, and is definitely concerned, who is the master of her
daughter’s dreams”
I remained speechless, while Henry rose up and left, leaving a heart behind which resumed from
fantasy, to its genuine state - destitution of fate.
The entire night I remained assorted in the agony of anxiety, and once more my
heart wailed of its insolvency, for what reigned over my psyche, was the anguish borne out of the
indigence of my providence. But endurance was the only route that I sought, for there was no
escapism from this sadistic seizure of my vindictive fate; for it was my own.
 …………………………………….

Chapter IX

I stared vaguely at the vehement drops of rain, dripping down with tremendous
vigour -- a vista that rested before my vision, which was indeed impoverished of perception, for my
senses were riveted in the immense ocean of possibilities and prospects that may secure its abode in
my fate…
Imagination, diverse and acute, apparent and indistinct, excruciating and pleasant,
enlivening and agonizing, amiable and consternating…as many facets, so intense the fomentation of
exasperation. Elusive is this ‘imagination’, replete with radical alacrity which makes its path beyond
the boundaries of our resolve. Our sanity is not its master, its blithe like a bird in the sky, knowing no
confines, no precincts…spreading its wings apart in the immense firmament of possibilities. It is
indeed inexorable, for I had witnessed its insolence over my persistent instructions to halt its
flight…only to acquire the knowledge of futility of my efforts. And thus, my mind continued to
imagine the prospect of my future, which induced within my veins an extremity of angst and
tormented me to the very essence.
Indeed, I had been imagining the conclusion of my meeting with Diana’s father
which has immersed my heart in the profound depth of anxiety, that remained descended over me ever
since the vindictive sneer of that fiend met my sight. I had been in the same sombre state of
trepidation for the entire night, for my heartbeats were rapid and did not allow my senses to doze off. I
found myself imbecile before my providence, for I had been stirred in the delirium of rapture, ever
since the commencement of the beautiful bond amid Diana and me, the ecstasy of which lasted only
till the entrance of that brute, who morphed the delirium of rapture to a frenzy of apprehension.
Apprehension, borne out of the uncertainty of my near future. The horror of losing Diana, yes, the sole
cause of my dread which when pervades my mind, a gush of intense agony rushes through my veins,
which excruciates my heart and a shudder runs through my body. Diana, my love, I would prefer to
seek the end of my breaths before witnessing the farewell of each other’s hearts. Such amorous was
the love that my heart bore, which was now dismayed even by the thought of an austere conclusion of
the approaching moments. The rendezvous will certainly not have a decent end, but then, my heart
was too vulnerable to endure the macabre face of my conjecture, which I earnestly yearn not to
transform itself to reality, for it’ll be the end of my forbearance.
And my eyes remained fixed at the pattering rain, vaguely…
The clock struck eight, and peace asundered from my soul, no more imaginations
assailed me, fortitude was now confluent with my blood, which were pulsing no more bounds of
anxiety, no more conjectures, no more foresights, only a path was visible, led by my resolution, as I
jerked my car before Diana’s mansion, to view the prospect of future, which lies only a few yards
away. Nothing did persecute me now, for I was on the edge of meeting the vision of the revelations of
my anxious queries, that would either descend over my heart, a spring of hope or maybe… a winter of
despair.
The day appeared dismal indeed. The redolence of the moist fragrance of soil, did
not endear me today, the prattling of leaves on the fervent drops never fascinated my vision, the
dampness of the ground beneath my feet, never enticed my interest. Despite of the presence of the
scenic rain before my vision, it failed to pour out a surge of admiration through my emotions, and with
a heart parched of relishing contentment, as sand seared of water, I stepped out with an umbrella and
sauntered to the entrance of the mansion, where my destiny would reach a verdict.
The two watchmen did not appear jolly as other days. They were crouching under
their umbrellas, conversing to each other with a certain discontentment clearly reflecting upon their
countenance.
“Good morning” I interrupted “I suppose I am allowed inside”
The thin one nodded languidly, and the plump one did not appear quite concerned.
“what’s the matter?” I asked unable to resist my inner inquisition.
The thin one patted my shoulder, then dismally whispered “nothing”, with a voice that appeared
apprehensive, maybe for me, as they had become quite a good friend of mine during the camaraderie
of Diana and me.
The way his eyes quitted mine and dropped down to the ground, in a manner so morose, that the
description of my heart’s fluster is intricate to explain, and a seize of a queer apprehension of dismay
descended over my psyche, for I began regarding this strange behaviour as an ominous omen, that
may prevail further too. However, I made no further enquiries and continued my steps, with my heart
impecunious of even a morsel of sanguinity, for the only diminutive flame of hope that kindled
beneath my heart, as well began to waver.
I stood outside the door, and pressed the bell. After waiting for a moment, I read the
steps closing towards the door, which soon clicked it ajar. It was the butler, with a bandage on his
nose. I suppressed a smile inwardly, for the bandage was an outcome of my whack. I could clearly
read his eyes, which were stealing away from mine, on the account of the intense mortification that he
was undergoing by my presence. Had I smiled at that moment, he would have enraged his inner blaze
of detestation that he bore for me, which definitely would have an atrocious repercussions. So I
hindered myself to commit any such deed that would enflame his concealed abomination against me.
“well! Sir” he commenced, with counterfeited civility “you are being awaited upstairs, please do
follow me”
I flapped shut the umbrella and handed it to the butler. I looked around and wondered that the interior
was the same as I last saw him. The butler once again bid me step up and I followed him upstairs.
In the large hall, everyone resumed from their seat, quitting their tea, observing my
presence. Diana, in her black dress, smiled at the sight of mine and Henry commenced “the much
awaited personality, has finally arrived”, introducing me to an old gentleman, whose face was round
and shiny, like Mr. Pick wick’s, big glasses were stuck on his nose and the top of his head was as
bright and bare as a glass bottle. He never moved when I entered, but raised his placid eyebrows and
waited on me to speak, this was the stentorian personality which my imaginations failed to construe
and I was obliged to smile and greet everyone of them, after which I joined the faction.
“Join the tea, Richard” said Henry “it’ll be quite a pleasure”
I walked close to them, and awaited them to sit, after which I drew back a chair and reclined myself
upon it.
“Dad” exclaimed Diana, clapping her hands in delight “this is Richard, Richard Smith”
“Hello Sir” I shook hands with the squashy hands of the old gentleman. However, it was indeed very
difficult for me to abstain my hand from trembling.
“So, you are the one, for whom my daughter is crazy about” he stated in his abrasive intellectual
voice. While Diana offered me a cup of tea, with her eyes sparkling with ecstasy.
I smiled like an imbecile adolescent, as it’s the only refuge that one acquires, when he’s embarrassed.
And I suppose I was intensely embarrassed by the naïve gestures of Diana, which were poured out of
immense elation, which she was unable to repress beneath her bosom.
“So Richard” the old gentleman said “why did you pick my daughter”
The word ‘pick’ appeared absurd to me and quite insulting too. I noticed him contemplating my
expression, which further made me perturbed.
“I didn’t pick your daughter” I said correcting him “it was written in my fate”
“Aha!” was his instant response “and what else is written in your fate, Richard”
I narrowed my eyes at his ambiguous statement, pretending not to comprehend what he said, when
suddenly the old gentleman leaned close to Diana and bid her go downstairs to her room. I did not
have the courage to look into her eyes as she got up merrily, with all blithe expressions addressed to
me and an audible whisper ‘good luck’ at my ears before stepping down the stairs to her room.
“Well” said Henry putting down his cup “you haven’t introduced your name to Richard”
“ah!” the old gentleman exclaimed, chafing his hands “Well! My name is Benjamin, Benjamin
Roosevelt”
“Pleased to hear that” I replied. However, little was I pleased, nay! Not a morsel.
“So, what do you do, Mr. Smith” came the inevitable question.
“I am an author Sir” I replied “and ‘am completing a course in Literature, from Lockwood College, a
trivial course”
“That’s quite interesting” he confessed “so, we’ve got a writer here, huh!”
I smiled inwardly, however it was conspicuous.
“Are you published, Richard?”
“Yes, Sir, you could say so” I said “my first novel will release by the end of this winter, sir”
“Wonderful!” he exclaimed.
“thanks”
“You know Richard” he said “ I too am a man of letters”
“that’s quite obvious” I commented.
“well! Thank you”
Henry was almost out of the conversation, when suddenly he erupted with his fiendish words.
“enough of innuendos” he said “let’s come to business, Mr. Roosevelt, don’t you think so”
“oh yes” he said, as if a sudden seize of consciousness has descended over him.
“So, Richard” he began “what have you planned before setting your trap for my daughter”
His actual colours now bristled with ingenuity.
“Excuse me” I asked, quite perplexed. I could clearly notice the delight on Henry’s face.
“answer me” he demanded.
“I didn’t plan anything” I said “neither did I set a trap or something…I mean its nothing like that”
The man laughed at me and so did Henry.
“Well! Well!” the old man continued “I am very well aware of people like you”
I didn’t protest, for it was futile to even endeavour to twist their conviction.
“What actually was it?”
“Look” I said, extremely vexed at the conduct they were exhibiting “the circumstance were such that
Diana and me fell in love with each other…why don’t you believe me”
“Fell in Love” Mr. Roosevelt repeated, then suddenly shouted “who the hell do you think you are to
fall in love with my daughter”
“I love her and she loves me” I retorted, in an equal pitch “that’s it”
“That’s not it” he got up in anger “how did you even think that you would compete Henry”
He sat down again, waiting for an answer.
“Your daughter does not love Henry” I yelled “she loves me and I love her”
“You bloody…” he clenched his fist and widened his eyes, with red nerves thickening in it.
“Alright!” Henry interrupted “let’s get on business”
“What business” I asked in frenzy.
Henry stared aside at the old man, gulping down volumes of water, to soothe down his temperament.
“Shall we begin” Henry added.
The old man nodded, wiping his forehead with his handkerchief.
“Look, Richard” he said, trying to suppress his temper “we’re flying to New York tomorrow morning”
I nodded civilly and uttered a soft ‘okay’
“So we’ve thought of a small task that you could do”
“A task” I exclaimed “what sort of task?”
“The task is quite simple” added Henry.
“Simple for us” the man continued, with a sly sneer on his lips “but the toughest we could find for
you”
My urge for enquiry increased and so did my apprehension.
“But what’s the task?” I asked loosening my tie.
“If you’re able to do it” he said “my daughter is all yours”
Henry smiled.
“You only have to earn half a million pounds, while we’re away in New York” the old man added.
The ground beneath my feat cracked and my heart ceased to pound.
“What!” I exclaimed “but…uh…sir”
“No questions” he halted my stammering.
“Till what time you’ll be away?” I asked uncertainly.
“Three months” was the reply.
“In three months, how do you expect me to earn…earn…half a million”
An astute smile broke upon his lips and he gave his master words.
“If you have the courage to ‘fall in love’ with my daughter” he said “then you must have the courage
to pay its worth”
I beheld reticence at that one.
“And reminding you” Henry said, with his face gleaming with spirited vanity of triumph “Diana’s also
coming with us to New York”
My heart wept, with the most earnest pain it has suffered. Then, suddenly, I heard stomping feet
mounting up the stairs. I immediately turned back. It was Diana, with tears journeying down her lips
and her azure eyes ruby with anguish. Her neck twitching with grief, her handkerchief sodden with
tears, her cheeks ears and nose crimson with despair, and pearls sliding ceaselessly down her lids.
“I hate you dad” she cried, weeping “at least, you should’ve understood my emotions”
She picked up a vase and the next moment it was lying on the floor, churned into pieces, producing a
speechlessness after its shrill clinking, and the red roses scattered upon the floor as two hearts were
weeping at their destitution.
“Look Diana” Henry got up “it’s not like that”
“Do not open your mouth” she cried “and let me make it clear, that I am not going to New York with
you all”
“But…the ticket has been confirmed” her father said.
“Then cancel it” she shouted “else go to hell”
Her father inhaled a deep breath and began with his thundering voice “behave yourself, this is a
naiveté of your temperament, stop this childish protest else my ferocity will take its own course.”
“Its not me who is behaving in a childish manner” she shouted “its you”
“Its not worth talking to you now” he said “Henry escort her to her room”
Henry walked forward and grabbed her arm with violent tenacity and staggered her downstairs, until
the faint voices of her protest were ended with a click of a door.
And, thus we departed, with a heartache of anguish, so intense that upon my soul an
eternal seizure of persecution established its reign, and this was a heart which was excruciated by its
providence, a heart which wailed with earnest agony of its despair, a heart whose grave tears were
ceaseless. But mournfully, the heart was one which used to surge the blood within my veins.

…………………………………………….
 Chapter X

The anguish poured down from above in the veneer of rain ceased to exhibit its
remorse, and by the time the wide expanse of the sky above me altered its shade to intense raven, the
tears showered upon the felonious soil of the earth, evaporated. And once again, London regained its
life, exuberant with vivacity. Once again the streets were bustling with lights of colours mystifying to
the vision. Once more the horde of crowd had revived trodding the ground beneath their feet. Once
again the night discos and pubs enlivened as anticipated. Once again the vehicles jammed the streets
with aggravated voices of the piteous humans. And once again the Human Civilization triumphed over
the agony of the creator over its creation, the agony, which to men is a metaphor in the face of rain.
Everything resuscitated in the form which rested before my vision, and ‘this revival was indeed
certain’.
But fathomless was the intensity of my desire to own the very similar state of my
temperament, which has altered its complete visage to agony of profound despair. How much I wished
I could laugh like carefree boy, with a heart unchained from the shackles of apprehension, whose
brutal seizure was relentless. How much I wished I could forget my ultimate heartache of misery,
which had established its vicious reign over my heart. How much I wished my soul could revive back
from the deep ocean of anguish, within which it has sunk. But futile were my petitions of revival, for
nothing will they avail as its face will never change, desires will remain desires. And now, I question
the lord, that why this revival, is not certain.
Alas! I am an animal who possess sentiments and emotions, in a deviant world like
such. ‘Why’ I ask myself, why was I oblivious, that the existence of emotions is considered nothing
more than a mere façade of a human heart, a trait, which is scarcely revered among humans
themselves. Why was I ignorant of the valour of riches, when it beholds the paramount of credence
within the human perception. And still, a question erupts, that why I committed that deed, which the
world austerely abstains, the deed which had proved me imbecile before my providence - why did I
fall in love. Indeed it was my naïveté to fall in love, regardless of the status divergence that stands
colossal. But these are just words, words which will never find its meaning or even morph to certainty,
words which will remain only words. Puerility, sheer puerility, I call the oblivion of the most veritable
truth, that its only affluence that is deemed. However, I cannot deem myself as the offender of my
own self, as the tormentor of my own soul, because the language of hearts forever remains a mystery.
And who knows, when did my heart conversed with hers. Maybe, at the first sight when she sauntered
in the coffee shop, like a fairy before my sight, when her endearing features enchanted me of its poise.
Or maybe, the gradual meetings of ours, was the reason of the ignition of this emotion. I still
remember the moment, when standing upon a hill, I deciphered the flame of love that she bore within
her heart, only for me, when for the first time our lips touched. Nothing, nothing indeed can equal the
charisma of that picturesque moment. And thus I find no reason to chastise my own self, for the vision
of a day like such, when its only the morose clouds of despair that rests above my heart, for I suppose,
that inexorable is the lust of love, which the even the most valiant of creation fails to endure.
I feel a sudden seizure of sentience, for I have risen from the bed of sheer oblivion and
conceived the virulent truth of the world where I dwell in, the truth of the metier of Mammon, the
truth that displays its forte in human perspective. Indeed the veracity of this truth is unquestioned, for
Mammon does enslave each mind and torments them until they seek their eternal rest, despite of being
the creation of those minds itself. Sometimes a convulsive spasm erupts within me to break free from
the civilization I pertain to, the civilization which is concealed in the shams of pretension, a
civilization I turbulently detest from the bottoms of pure passions, a civilization that compares human
emotion with a mere piece of paper, in front of which each soul is impelled to bow their heads and can
condescend to commit any felonious deed dictated by this Virtual God, or rather say this Virtual Satan
whose savage snare is unremitting.
And this is what ails me, the power which i lack, the power of this piece of paper, of
which the whole world is a slave. Indeed it pioneers the winds of morose despair to blow across me,
sinking my heart in the profound vale of intense poignance.
And thus, with an excruciated soul, I kept walking in the swarm of millions where I
found myself alone, with a mind persecuted with the strife of melancholy thoughts of earning 'half-a-
million' until their return in three months, for attaining back my love, without whom my life is like a
desert seared of rain. And thus I continued my steps, oblivious of their destination, when the sky was
dark and the morose clouds of rueful desperation rested upon that immeasurable expanse above me.
In crave for solitude, I took my route through a secluded street, where the moon looked
over the high wall of the court, causing undefined shadows to lurk in the corners of numerous
projecting portions of the walls, illuminating the street with its silvery cloak. The rustle of the trees
and wheezing of the wind seemed compassionate for my doleful heart and appeared to strike a gentle
caress, solacing my temperament by rendering it a few moments of equanimity. Far and wide my
vision, I failed to catch a glimpse of any mortal soul and continued my stride, with my hands in the
pockets of my overcoat, in a milieu that appeared appeasing to my soul, bereaved of profuse despair.
When on my way in the forlorn street, an inadvertant incident befell. While I was
drifting faineantly upon the wet street, incognizant of the character I would soon meet, a little stone
seemed to perturb my steps. And as most men with sullen heart would do, I kicked the stone, unaware
of its consequence. The stone seemed to vanish somewhere with a little noise, and after a moment a
deep groan struck my ears from the pathway aside and a figure appeared to move. I could distinctly
discern that it was beggar, whose sleep I had violated and for the penitence of my unintended deed I
quickly reached out to him.
His head was resting upon his chest and his ruffled greyish hair was emitting a foul
odour. I could very well comprehend that he was murmuring something.
“Hey, you” I said in a somewhat mortified voice “hey”
The man slowly drew his head up, and to my consternation, I was appalled by his countenance which
was totally ruptured with innumerable wrinkles and scales. Only his brown eyes gleamed with
unspeakable luminosity.
“Ya' nee' na' worry suh'” he said in his rough abrasive voice “its only mah' sleep”
I felt a sort of aversion from this ungrateful fellow and as it was, my mood was not quite jovial.
“okay, okay” I said indignantly and took out some coins prom my pocket.
“I am sorry for your sleep. Take this as my penance”
I handed those coins to his lacerated hands and endeavoured no to involve myself in further
conversation, but the beggar won't understand.
“Why a' yah' givin' me this” he asked.
I found it futile to reply and began to walk, when suddenly, he caught the bottom of my overcoat.
“Tell me” he insisted.
“Because...because your condition...is...is pitiable” I replied, unconcernedly.
The beggar cracked a smile and fished out a bottle of whisky from his torn shirt.
“who tol' ya'” he gulped some whisky down his throat and continued “am' happy as am'”
I found his behaviour quite odd, and this time, quite interesting too.
“Really?” I asked.
He nodded while drinking the whisky.
My interest suddenly ignited and I indulged myself in conversation.
“Howcome?” I asked “I mean...you're...you're...a beggar”
I said, undecided of what to say.
“So” he said “am' glad t' be a begah'”
I looked at him with utter curiosity.
“A' least am' contented” he added “ya' condition is worse tha' me”
I wondered at his words, though quite vexed, but whose veracity I could not deny.
“How...how did you know” I finally confided, quite bewildered.
“Ya' face” he said “it conspired”
I did not answer.
“He's t' one who helps me” he said and drank his whisky.
I made a hesitant face, expressing the perplexity of my ignorance of whom he was talking about.
“Whom are you talking about” I asked.
He smiled and said “Gimme' a coin”
I looked at him for a little while then passed him a coin.
“If iz' heads, he helps me, if tails, the' nat'”
The beggar tossed the coin in the air and caught it amid his palms and slowly opened. It was indeed
heads.
“See, he's wi' me, always” he said, smiling.
“Whom are you talking about” I asked emphatically.
The beggar lifted up his hand and pointed towards a distant church and I was quiet for a
little while. His head again rested upon his chest and he began murmuring, while I continued with my
steps which were now destined.
I chose the way to seek refuge under the sacred hand, and confide to the deity the
heartache of my profuse misery, under the evil snare of which I am confined, for the infernal savagery
of my providence has surpassed the boundaries of my forbearance and perilous it was for me to behold
the venom within my veins, without anyone to heed, and so I covered the yards distance to seek the
path of the Universal Father, though not beseeching for remedy, but to absolve my heart from the
bondage of desolation.
I peeped inside through the entrance of the church. There was another lady inside,
standing between the rows, murmuring before the cross, with her hands joined. I walked inside and
stood behind her, closed my eyes and joined my hands. After confessing my perils and desires, I
muttered a soft 'Amen' and slowly opened my eyes, and what my eyes witnessed was indeed
miraculous.
The lady stood aghast before my sight, and similar was my expression at the sight of hers.
“Diana” I muttered, spontaneously.
Tears were exuding down her cheeks, which compelled my eyes to shimmer too. And after
a long gaze, she rushed close to me and swung her arms around me and unveiled the profound ocean
of anguish that she bore within her heart, which streamed out of her eyes like pearls out of their shell.
I felt her shuddering bosom upon my chest, and fathomed the solemnity of the tears, which immersed
my heart in the infinitive intensity of boundless remorse.
“I am sorry...I am sorry” she looked up with tearful eyes.
I rested my chin upon her head and patted her back, compassionately.
“You need not be sorry, my dear” I said “everything will be alright”
“How Richard” she looked up at me “can you afford such a sum?”
I looked down at her face speechless, a drop of tear trickled down her cheeks and I remained quiet.
Her head again fell back upon my chest and she began sobbing. I kissed her forehead and gently
waved my fingers across her hair.
“Believe me” I said “Neither God nor Satan can separate us from each other”
She wiped her tears upon my sleeve and looked up.
“Yes” she whispered softly, but with immense conviction “we shall always be there for each other”
I caught her by her cheeks and said,
“We are now standing in the Realm Of Love” I paused “and I will not endure it set ablaze”
Diana's lips quivered, and her eyes glinted. Her face came close to mine and I felt the
warmth of her lips touching mine, and while my lips tasted the resplendence of love, my sanity
affirmed a resolution to preserve this Realm Of Love, by any means. I was resolute to quench my
heart's desire and appease its profound crave for contentment and render it the radiance of which it is
indigent. I would morph its wailing visage to pristine felicity, its morose destitution to euphoric
abundance, I would absolve it from the shackles of misery and place it in the realm of ecstasy – by any
means, malignity or benignity, scarcely matters, for the anguish has surpassed the limits of my
endurance...and what cannot be endured, must be cured.

..............................................................
 Chapter XI

The next morning, was the day of her departure to New York. The timing of the
flight suited my vacancy, but I hindered myself to make a move to the airport, for the separation was
too painful for my vulnerable heart to endure. And despite of my profound urge to bid Diana adieu, I
suppressed my heart's crave and stifled it beneath myself, though it pounded persuasively but I
confined it within the bounds of my volition and averted not to its implores, for my conscience was
evocative enough of the consequence of the petition of my naïve heart, that the wailful sight of Diana
in the arms of the miscreant, would asunder it with a might that could hardly be healed. And what an
immeasurable depth of profound agony would stir in my blood and would render the tempest bounds
of elicited aggravation to my nerves, when her eyes are persuaded to tear apart from mine, and I
would only gaze, destitute. I was too feeble, feeble indeed to bear such a sombre prospect before my
vision, which would certainly turn vague. And so, I remained at my place, with my heart besieged in
the bondage of misery and woe, wailing with solemn tears.
An extreme feeling of solitude and inanity surrounded me and I felt a certain
hollowness within me, my heart was weeping, but tears did not stream out of my eyes, I felt as if I had
lost the cause of my breaths, the reason behind my existence. The lump of my throat denied to
disappear, and despite of the breeze of intense desperation that blew within my heart almost
ceaselessly, I did not wail. But I dreaded the vista of my sanguine not morphing to reality, the
sanguine of her return in my arms. I feared the prospect of a vile conclusion, but my inner conscience
whispered to me that this transient departure is perhaps the veneer of eternal departure. And this
inanity continued...
 The first few days were extremely grievous and an impending heartache of intense
despair remained descended over my sanity, but slowly, days after days began to pass and I started to
fall back in my previous state. Everyday, I paid a gaze at Diana's mansion, quiet and lonely it
appeared, but instigated within my veins the blood of assertive turbulence, and a seizure of
apprehension would establish its reign over my thoughts, for not a muscle did I move for many days to
achieve my prime motive, 'half-a-million' pounds, despite of being rendered a confinement of mere
three months. Every moment of my existence during those savage days, went riveted in the realm of
deplorable turmoil, discerning ways to earn the sum, vainly. The yearn of mine was so intense that I
could have staked my life's most cherished treasure to catch a glimpse of even the most arduous path
that would aid me solve this quixotic knot, which by no means exposes its solution. I could have
crossed any bounds of intricacies and slashed through the range of travails to surmount this daring
intend. But alas! Even perils have deceived me in this race in which I could not foresee my triumph.
Even the most daring and anxious attempts of mine would reward me nothing more than a mere trifle
of the sum. I would've moved with the devils, but even the devils refused to saunter my path and I was
left with nothing, nothing that I could do except to float with the tide of despair. It was during this
period that I deciphered my own worthlessness and impotence in the aspect of riches. Unavailing was
the outcome of these days which I spent imbrued in the vale of trepidations and tribulations, for
naught was what I achieved. Several methods did I try to devise, but none did assist, for their
infeasibility was extreme. Every time the thought of the abominable consequence and a prospect me
being sundered from my love crept in my mind, the ominous clouds of deep remorse used to hover
above me, seizing every tinge of repose away from my heart and descending over it the encumbrance
of apprehension. But endurance was the only trail I was impelled to pursue, for I failed to discern any
path that would aid me seek an escape from its deviant seizure. But then, I sometimes wonder, what
will be the significance of my sustenance, my existence, when the most earnest part of my life is
destined to severance. It will lead to the eternal departure of mine from my essence and I will be
destined to perish, seared of the relish of love.
There in New York City, Diana would be resting in the arms of Henry, for whom I bear in
my heart an immeasurable intensity of execration; though not with pure passion, but she would be.
And here in London, there resides a soul, whose love for his beloved is so profound that even the
profundity of the ocean and intensity of the fathomless sky fails to compeer its depth. A man that
bears within his heart, a love which has surpassed the bounds of insanity. A spirit who laments not to
impale his life to suspire with pristine contentment, with his love enveloped within the circle of his
arms, and his heart delirious with intense exuberance. But queer is the game of life, the affluent has
abundance and the passionate, destitution. This colossal divergence is because the affluent flows with
mammon, and the passionate, with emotions. And what is the potence of emotions - a mere
incapability in the veneer of tears.
 And thus passed the first month,
Full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing.
With the break of the second month, it was only miseries and aggravation that reigned
over me. For a week or so, it felt as if a spasmodic drug has been induced within my veins, which was
driving me crazy, but then a couple of weeks later I got the news that my novel has hit the market. But
unavailing was the launch of my novel, for it earned me naught before what was intended. And it was
now that I realised the diplomacy in this brutal proposal of Diana's father, for they were precisely
aware that I would be incapable of accomplishing their proposal.
During this episode of grievous austerity and inestimable agony, I had nothing more than a
heart to lament and eyes to exude the immeasurable ocean of anguish.
And the essence still wailed, with earnest tears...

..............................................................

Chapter XII

Quite a few ruminative days would have passed, riveted in melancholy sentiments, with
none of them that beholds a veneration of providing a single hour true equanimity, or even a moment of
placid repose. The flame has now subsided, anguish no more excruciates my essence, no more convulsion
of agony descends over me, the throe of intense distress no more torments me, no more strenuous heartache
of remorse afflicts me, my blood no more render tempest bounds of grievance to my nerves, and no more
does my heart lament, for I had learnt to keep my breaths alive even in the confinement of profound
despair and my heart pounding even in the bondage of intense misery.
Endurance, the implacable fiend, which remits me not from its odious confinement, and
which has bounded me within its seizure and foisted its thraldom over me. Endurance, which has imposed
me to pay my servitude, and sunk my heart beneath intense chagrin, mortifying it by the vista of its
incapability. Incapability of not achieving the requisite for the attainment of my love back. And so, I had to
learn to forget Diana, my love, whose essence in my life was deeply intense, yes, even more than my very
own breaths. But how was I supposed to efface those ravishing moments that we had spent together, which
were resplendent with profuse romanticism. Her charming beauty with enamouring chastity of heart. Her
beautiful mahogany hair fluttering with the gush of wind shearing across her, evincing within me an
emotion of intense veneration, her rosy cheeks deepening further to crimson at the sight of mine,
immersing me within the profound vale of beatitude, her expressive eyes, whose azurity even the dusk does
not behold, chording within me the tune of ecstasy, the crack of her smile from her glistening lips and her
impish grins, replenishing my soul with its elixir, the music of her laughter, touching the chord of my
bosom as a melody, placating my inner essence and most of all, the flare of love that we beheld within our
hearts eternally ignited for each other. Indeed, my heart is not so valiant to efface those moments from my
memories and not cherish them with solemn desire.
Though heartache and poignance never left my path, but I was pleased to possess those
fistful of memories, of the moments which will remain eternal within my heart and render me strains of
profound elation, whenever I glance back at the prospect of my life. I had several reasons to be nostalgic
and several more for a celebration.
Although, these thoughts were not abundant to suffice my wailing heart and alleviate it of its
intense distress, but were indeed like the winds of affection, striking a gentle caress to my soul and
immersing it within the profound vale of equanimity.
And thus passed my days, until one morning shimmered a ray of hope...
A surge of adoration flowed through my emotions as my eyes exceeded the confinement of
the panes and rested upon the vision of the beauteous morning. I parted apart the panes and felt the cool
breeze shear across my visage and after such a long time, smelt the redolence of pristine placidity. The
picturesque vision before my sight, invigorated me with intense vivacity of exuberance and I glanced at it,
elicited with a deep emotion of internal bliss. The miniatures of the little birds in the enormous expanse of
the overcast sky and the crimson sphere, resting above the palm of horizon, illuminating ripples of cerise
rays along its sides and the chaste innocence of the undefiled breeze wheezing slowly across the air,
inducing an aura of intense resplendence, appeared to be a master artistry of the creator, an artistry whose
grandeur remains unimpaired.
I kept the coffee upon the basement of the window and looking out, confessed 'A fine day'.
Upon the dusty table, which I had not used for a couple of weeks, was kept the novel which I used to read. I
stretched out my arm and picked up the dusty novel. Looking at it with curious eyes, I banged it against the
panes twice or thrice until each speck of dirt dropped off from it, which summed up as an indistinct smoke
of dust. I flipped the pages of the novel and came across a bookmark, that lay buried where I had left it.
And after so long, a smile cracked from my dry lips and leaving the bookmark there, I closed the book and
kept it aside on the table. I again held the cup of coffee from the basement and sipped some of it, when
suddenly there was a bang at the door and the newspaper was slipped halfway under the door. I rose up
from the chair and stooped down to snatch it up. Reclining myself back on the chair I began surfing
through the headlines and some other important news. And as these activities ensued, I felt as if I had
returned after a long exile from life. Everything resuscitated as before and so did my temperament,
however the indelible stain of anguish did not efface and the sombre clouds of profound despair still
hovered above my heart. But disregarding these grave encumbrances of my providence, I endeavoured to
remain elated, and not to blend this picturesque dawn of exuberant radiance with the poignant night of
intense darkness.
And thus, I continued reading the newspaper, until my eyes surfed through the ‘advertisement
column’, where it witnessed words which appeared incredulous to my senses.
It stated:

A wonderful opportunity to earn money,

You can have as much as you desire,
We’ll pay you in millions, which
will change your life forever.
Note: Only for brave hearted people

My eyes twinkled with incredulity and in an instant, a flare of hope rekindled within my
heart and I was insane with profound ecstasy. My eyes searched for further information but failed to catch a
glimpse of any such information that would aid me comprehend the requisite of this article. I wondered the
notion behind its requirement of ‘Brave hearted people’ and determined myself to approach ‘The Times’
office and clarify my uncertainties. What was it, and where was it sent from, I remained ignorant, but bore
a passionate desire to discern it, for I perceived it as the only way to stir in the reverie of Diana, back in my
arms. I was resolute to make a move to the ‘The Times’ office in the evening, for the fervour I possessed
to gain the fortune for my love was so intensely potent that even the fiery of fire would kneel before its
fervidity.
 The dawn conceded, riveted in the pleasant winds of profound bliss, and my heart
floating with the melodious tune of pure pleasure, with my mind liberated from the feral captivity of vile
apprehension and intense anguish. My heart hummed an elated strain and revelled itself with elusive
pleasance and my temperament blew with the breeze of immense placidity. And thus, moved the hands of
the clock, with my heart immersed in the fathomless depth of pristine contentment, until I was ready to
make a move and until the sedate demure rays of the cerulean dusk reigned over the immense expanse of
the azure sky.
Switching off the lights, whistling a musical note, and carrying an overcoat in my arms, I
made my way out and boarded in my roofless car, after so long an exile. And thus, commenced the journey,
accompanied with the flutters of the wind and the music of early 80’s, unaware of what was written in my
destiny.
The journey was quite a long one, for the roads were not as secluded as I presumed it to be,
and so the inevitable traffics ensued. However, my temperament was calm and serene and I didn’t bother
much, for it had been a long time, since I had last tasted the joviality of driving. Hence, I perceived nothing
that would vex me, and so I continued driving until I reached the ‘The Times office’. By that time, I could
notice a tint of raven shade in the sky and the appearance of an obscure moon, and the sun on the brink of
setting.
I stepped out of the car and put on my overcoat, for it was rather chilly and clasping the
newspaper amid my palm, I crossed the bustling street to the other end of the causeway. A tall and glassy
building as I could call it, with two old and stern gatekeepers standing at the entrance. Anyways, I walked
towards the entrance, and wishing a ‘Good Evening’ to the gatekeepers I sauntered in the bright and busy
place with thousand of people walking along the while marble floor. A number of elevators at every corner
moving up and down and halting at different floors. The non-stop rings of telephone and the chatters of the
receptionists at the counters along with the echoes of numerous people, having no time for leisure, quite
appalled me, and I was a trifle bedazzled amongst the unfamiliar crowd, however, I was also quite happy,
for my life was once again in action.
I moved my eyes everywhere around and decided to seek the help of a lady receptionist who
was standing aside me in the counter. However, I could discern upon her visage a disconcerted grimace that
may ail me cajole the information out of her, and so, I decided to use my flattering skills. I ambled in her
direction and noticed the change of her expression at the sight of mine, a clear ingenuine smile descended
over her face, that every receptionist is bound to possess , as if welcoming me.
The lady was quite skinny, with a pale fair skin and meagre breasts, she had long blonde hair
hanging down to her shoulder. Her eyebrows were thin and blonde too and her eyes were big, with deep
shade of pure green. She had thin lips and a projecting nose and her neck was rather sleek. I slowly walked
close to her and began to exude my charisma.
“You might be accustomed to hear it” I commenced “but that’s the most attractive pair of eyes I would
have ever seen, deep as an ocean, I wish I could swim in it”
The lady produced an incredulous laughter and at once I could notice the flush of gratified exult blushing
beneath her cheeks. And with a charming animation of eyes, she covered her mouth with her slender long
fingers.
“you’re trynna’ seduce me” she softly said, smiling.
“I don’t think so” I replied “In fact, I am seduced by you”
She gave an amiable smile and endeavoured to command her emotions which were overflowing with the
doze of my flattery.
“Anyways” she said , jerking her hair aside, which finally rested upon her shoulder “what can I do for
you?”
I shot an affable smile and spread the newspaper on her desk.
“Well!” I said pointing at the advertisement article “I wanted to seek full information about it”
The lady sighed and pretended to give a serious look.
“Well!” she said “what kind of information do you want?”
“I needed to know its address” I said “and what it is regarding”
The lady nodded, then observed the article carefully and after a moment looked up at me, with an
expression that hardly expressed something.
“I am sorry” she said “you’ve to talk to Mr. Francis”
“Alright!” I replied
“Wait” she said “Let me call him and inform him”
She picked up the phone and rapidly dialled the number with her fingers which appeared accustomed to
that number.
“Hello Mr. Francis” she said “there’s a gentleman who requires some information about…about an
advertisement article”
“yes…yes” she said “shall I send him to your chamber?”
“Okay, Sir, thank you” saying this, she placed the phone and looked at me quite delighted.
“you can meet him” she said “seventh floor, elevator number 2”
“Thanks a lot” I said, when she drew her hand forward to shake hands with me and said “It was wonderful
having you here”. With a notion that I should conclude what I had begun, I kissed her hand instead of
shaking and with a slayer smile, I waved my hand, while she shot a smutty wink at me, which almost
bewildered me, and thus we departed confined in a romantic aura.
Anyways, I took to elevator number 2, which was quite crowded and halted at the 7th
floor, as I was instructed. The doors of the elevator sundered apart and along with me a bunch of executives
sauntered out. After a little search, I sorted out the grey door, upon which was plated ‘Francis Douglas,
Editor - in - Chief’. I knocked the door gently and a manly voice came from within ‘Come in’. I pushed the
door open and stepped in the beautiful air-conditioned chamber.
The man seemed absorbed in his work and I could clearly discern through his sense of
dressing that he was a capital fellow. He wore a black suit with a black tie and was writing with a thick
expensive silver pen. He had dark grey hair which was little bald in the middle. He seemed a healthy
middle-aged man. I could not see his face until he looked up at me with his light brown eyes to reveal his
square plump face with a blunt nose and thick lips. The French-cut beard he had perfectly suited his
brownish complexion and his bushy eyebrows had a shade of grey. At once I comprehended that he was a
perfect intellectual by the thinking lines on his forehead. And continued observing him until he commenced
“take a seat”.
I smiled and drew the chair back and placed myself comfortable. The man capped his pen
respectfully and readied himself for the conversation.
“Hello, Sir” I began “I am Mr. Richard Smith”
“Nice to meet you Mr. Smith” he said, shaking hands with me “what brought you here?”
“Well! Sir” I said and placed the folded newspaper on the table.
“Any disagreement with our Newspaper, Mr. Smith?” he asked, quite concerned.\
“Ah! No” I said, quite busy spreading the advertisement page on the table “well! Sir, I needed some more
information about this one”
I pointed out the article. Mr. Francis turned the newspaper on his side and caught his chin. He suspired and
lips began hissing the words. After reading, I could see his eyes roll for the address, but in vain.
Without a minute’s delay, Mr. Francis shut the newspaper and folded it according to his convenience then
looked up at me and said “if you don’t mind, I would have to go and clarify it with Mr. Jameson, the
publisher of the advertisement columns”
“sure… sure, please” I replied, reluctantly.
Mr. Francis pushed back his chair and got up, then ambled out of his chamber, carrying
the newspaper under his arms. Meanwhile, I observed the chamber, as it was the only thing that I could do.
I wondered why my heart was chording strains of vivid gratification, when the impediments of grave
anxieties and tribulations have not left my path. There was not even a shard of dejection or even a mist of
despair, when it’s the miserable clouds impending darkness, awaiting to thrust the sword of intense
despondency through and across my heart.
These thoughts of mine were put to a sudden halt when, when the door creaked open and
Mr. Francis entered with an anxious face. Mr. Francis leaned forward on the table and said,
“Well! Mr. Smith” he said “Though not much, but Mr. Jameson says he can help you wit quite a little
information”
“where can I meet him?” I asked
“Just a floor below” replied Mr. Francis “he’ll be waiting there aside the elevator”
“Alright, Thank you”
I prepared myself for a leave and with the last shake of hands, I left the chamber and
sauntered out, with an intention to face the unseen Mr. Jameson. Instead of the elevator I preferred the
stairs, for it was only a floor below and the moment I reached there, I saw a tall stout man, with a compact
face, black gleamy eyes and a needle nose. He had thin lips and a clean shave and had a masculine dark
complexion and grizzled short hair. Altogether he shot a sharp look.
“Mr. Jameson” I uttered with an uncertain tone.
“Oh! Yes” he replied in crisp voice “Mr. Smith, I presume”
“Right”
“Well! Mr. Smith” he said “we have been requested not to reveal the address, by the sender of the
advertisement”
I wondered at his candour.
“Oh! I see” I replied, ruminatively
“but I can help you in a little way”
“please do, sir”
“I still remember” he continued “that it was sent on a scarlet envelope with a yellow seal. And we were
paid a good deal for keeping the address a secret”
“But, Sir” I said “why would the sender try to keep the address a secret?”
Mr. Jameson smiled, then said “there are no ends to possibilities”
“But I recall” he continued “the address was written”
“So?” I shrugged, quite amused by the strange conversation.
“and I think I can give you the envelope” he said, knitting his brows.
“really”
“But for that you’ve to search the trash bag”
“The trash bag” I exclaimed.
“Of course” he said “do you expect us to preserve the torn envelopes”
“Of course not” I replied
And within a moment, Mr. Jameson called out one of the staffs and bid him bring the trash bag. Meanwhile
I enjoyed a cup of tea with Mr. Jameson, whom I found to be immensely interesting. However not before
long we had finished the tea, the staff reappeared with an inflated black trash bag, bursting with papers to
the brim. We soon departed and carrying the trash bag in my car I reached home and ransacked the bag and
messed up my house with incomprehensible papers until my eyes gleamed at the sight of a torn scarlet
envelope with yellow seal, which indistinctly read ‘A.C.A, Buchan Street, Blackthorn Bldg., London’. A
tempest gale of profound felicity blew within my heart and an unimpaired euphoria of elated exhilaration
rushed through my blood rendering bounds of frivolous rapture surging through my veins an incomparable
measure of intense exaltation. An emotion whose profundity remains consummate.

………………………………………………
 Chapter XIII

It was the depth of night, when it was only the profundity of darkness that I could
perceive out of the window. The air was misty and still and with it was stirred the invigorating redolence of
moisten earth, resplendent with freshness and novelty of pristine purity. The cold soil of the land heaved
the steamy clouds of mist that rested above the earthen ground, which gave a smeared image of the distant
lampposts, unveiling the mystery of darkness.
While I sat beside the window, giving a pause for thought after the long hours of reading.
And while I was ruminated in the depth of thoughts, a discreet strain of intense apprehension was chording
within my subconscious and my conscience, endeavouring not to render heed to this unremitting strain, but
its efforts floated with the breeze of futility and a qualm of anxiety descended over me, like a gradual
seizure of clouds over an open sky, making it overcast. I kept the novel beside on the table, and heaved a
sigh of despair, which was eloquent of my unavailing travails. And deplorable was the spirit of my heart,
for even the flame in the little lamp of hope, which my heart bore, began to flicker and even the placid
winds of profound beatitude ceased to render my heart a gentle caress. And the tide of rapture that had
gushed within my veins, had now morphed to the tides of intense despair.
The surge of profound euphoria that I had witnessed upon my visage, when my eyes
gleamed at the sight of the address on the scarlet envelope, had now faded away. And my resolution
wavered with the vehement gushes of perpetual failures, for once again I was betrayed by my own
providence and despite of my search for the address, I could not procure it by any means. I would have
asked the address to a number of people, only to witness a bewildered shrug. I would have even traced the
address in the map of London, but in vain. And thus I was left behind, clueless of my pursuit. It appeared as
if the tempest of fervent winds borne from my own vindictive fate would sway me away from this final and
ultimate opportunity, and I would only gaze, concealed under the shadow of darkness, which the destiny
will cast around me.
But sometimes, the destiny is benignant…and little was I aware that my providence will take
heed of its curses so soon.
A fulminant noise of a car appalled me all of a sudden and I resumed from the intensity of
thoughts. I glanced out of the window and saw the bright headlights of a car treading towards at an elegant
speed, lifting the cloak of darkness from the forlorn street. I hindered myself to rivet deep into it and feeling
thirsty, I rose up, quitting my seat, when suddenly, I witnessed a hard knock on the door, which possessed
all the aspects of queerness and rarity, and was fairly alarming too. A strong sensation of vexation stirred
with trifle quandary, evinced out of my emotions and walking close to the door, I cautiously clicked it
open.
 An unfamiliar face stood before me, whose countenance beamed a high sense of
conscientiousness and solemn severity. He was a thin man and his face was rather big for his small body,
with two shining black eyes which corresponded with his black suit. The man lifted up his hat and greeted
me. I intimately perused his visage which conspired to me the depth of earnest gravity that he possessed,
which indeed was intense, and unable to bear this furtive secrecy of an unrevealed mystery, I commenced.
“What purpose brings you here?”
A wry smile overtook his countenance.
“you, Mr. Smith” he replied at once in a crisp voice.
“How did you know my name?” I asked, quite perplexed.
“I’ll explain everything to you” he said, coolly “first let me in”
I could not suppress the curiosity and so looked up at him and bid him come in.
The man walked in with utter flippancy in his action and reclined upon the couch, without even my
resentment. However I did not make it notice to him and actually he didn’t seem to care about it. I took my
seat opposite him and the conversation began.
“Well! Mr. Smith” he said “it’s a very serious business”
“First things first” I intervened “Who are you and what’s your name?”
The man cracked a sly smile.
“My name, I am not advised to disclose” he replied “and who I am you’ll soon know”
His reply made me run short of words…and I was the writer in the room.
“Look, Mr. Smith” he said “we know everything about you”
“About me!” I exclaimed “but why?”
“We’ve a whole biography of your life” he continued “and even the worst chapter of it all”
“The worst chapter” I said, profoundly bewildered “I didn’t get it”
“Soon you will” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“We know the series of events that took place after your meeting with Diana Roosevelt” he said, smiling
craftily “each and everything”
“How come” I exclaimed flabbergasted.
“We’re also aware of the essence of money that you require” he continued “Half a million, I presume”
“And mind you” he added “it’s only a couple of weeks away from Diana’s return”
I looked at him, speechless. It felt as if my senses had deceived me and I could only whisper, without even
a flick of my eyelids, “Who are you?”
“Well! Mr. Smith” he said “I’ve been sent from A.C.A”
Immediately, it struck my mind that it was the same address I had seen on the scarlet envelope.
“A.C.A” I exclaimed “the one I had been looking for?”
“Very correct, Mr. Smith” he replied.
A sudden spark of wonder encountered my visage and I said “How did you know about me?”
“The Times, Sir” he replied “we were addressed, that you were quite anxious for our address, and so, we
gathered information about you and your whole life”
I felt it unnecessary to speak any further, and so I remained silent.
“And if you want to know more about us” he continued “then you’ve to come with me”
“Come with you” I exclaimed “Where?”
“The place you’ve been searching for” he replied.
“Why can’t you explain me everything here?” I asked, quite agitated by the idea of journeying at the depth
of night, and a trifle petrified regarding these people.
“I am not advised to” he replied
“Who advises you” I asked.
“The Chief”
“Who, ‘Chief’”
“Whom we’re going to meet now”
“Who are you people and what do you do” I yelled.
“Enough of inquisitions, Mr. Smith” he retorted “Do you want the money or not?”
A portrait of Diana suspiring in my arms, overtook my sight and I confessed, “Yes”
“Then come with me”
The man rose up from the couch, and so did I. We sauntered out of my house and boarded in
the car, which was, I suppose a Limousine. The car grunted and the journey commenced, The discreet
silence in the car made me uncomfortable, and the assaults of the gushes of chilly wind slapping against my
face, further disconcerted me. An esoteric sensation of intense and imperceptible sentience flowed across
my veins, which ushered the stream of profound vexation within my heart and I kept floating with the
winds of my providence, insensible of its destiny. That night, I was introduced to streets that I knew never
existed in London and the arcane quietude and taciturnity which these places possessed, spoke a language -
the language of discretion in the profundity of darkness.
The car finally halted beside an abandoned half-constructed building, with slabs and bricks
upon the cold dusty road. Not a soul could I see around, only clandestine darkness and its covert. In this
aura of cryptical inscrutability, I asked the man with earnest bedlam within my psyche, ‘where’ve you
brought me’.
The man got out of the car and so did I. The chauffeur vanished away somewhere in the obscurity and the
man looked back at me and with utter severity upon his countenance, he whispered, ‘you’ve come to
A.C.A’
I followed him up the cemented staircase of the abandoned building, with unspeakable strain of intense
curiosity stirred with a frenzy of consternation and indescribable intensity of esoteric terror. Cold sweat of
profound horror, poured out from my pores, and my sanity was flowing with the delirium of insanity,
which was inevitable, despite of the endeavours of my imaginations to construe the enigmatic vagueness of
this unexplained mystery. But little was I aware, that the verity of this mystery, would far exceed the extent
of my most outrageous imaginations.
Finally, our steps halted before a leaking and creaky wooden door, which completely
astounded me. The man looked aside at me and whispered ‘I hope you are brave hearted’. I did not reply,
and he didn’t seem to care about it. Soon the demented flare of suspense and tensity released me of its
manic confinement as the man shouted a code and the door stood ajar.
I was traumatized to see what was inside that shabby wooden door. Indeed, it was the paradox
of what I had anticipated, or rather, what a common man would anticipate.
It was a large spacious conference room, dominated by silver all around, the walls were silver
and glassy, the ceiling too was silver and three air conditioners hung upon the wall, a metre below the
ceiling. And in the midst of the room was a long and shiny conference table made of thick glass, along
which were several men, seeming quite intellectual dressed in fine suit, who appeared quite perturbed, by
my sudden admission, as if I had disturbed a serious discussion. There was an old, handsome man with a
firm face, sitting at the farthest end of the table, whose eyes were constantly fixed upon mine. It appeared
as if he was perusing my personality and I presume he was the ‘Chief’. I perceived the grave look of the
men, as if they were waiting for me. I felt as a new student among these men and so I didn’t dare to move a
muscle.
“Chief” said the man, addressing the man I had conjectured “I have brought him”
A shrewd smile spread over his lips.
“Exactly as I had anticipated” the old man stated crisply “come, have a seat”
I was offered a seat right opposite to the chief.
“Agent 4230” the chief said “dismiss”
The man who had escorted me till here, left the room, shutting the door behind, with the same code. I
offered a cup of coffee and I gladly accepted it, for I needed it, quite desperately.
“So Mr. Smith” said the chief “how did you like the A.C.A”
I kept the cup down, and for a moment I didn’t speak, then with utter uncertainty, I stuttered “I…I don’t
know what is it yet”
I noticed a sneer upon one of those men’s face, who after a short sigh, said,
“Chief, I presume its time to let the cat out of the bag”
“Very well” said the chief, chafing his hands “Lets do it”
“‘A’. ‘C’. ‘A’” the chief said “Anarchist Community Association”
I missed a beat by the disclosure of the abbreviation.
“Anarchists!” I exclaimed “then I am the wrong person”
At once, smile broke upon every lip.
“Chief” said a man beside him “I don’t think he can aid us by any means”
“So do I” stated the other “he’s just a kid and so damn…afraid”
The chief remained silent for a moment as if analysing the comments, then finally broke the silence.
“But he is in a desperate need of money” said the chief “more than any one of us”
“And also, youthful” added the other.
I felt as a captive of these men, who appeared to decide my destiny.
“And Gentlemen” the chief said “I suppose this force of money would allow him commit this deed”
I was chilled to the bone by the queer behaviour of theirs, regarding me, that directly indicated that I had
stepped in world which itself is a cauldron of felony and sin. And so, with a hope of an escape I gathered
my strength and yelled, “I don’t need anything, I’m a simple man…I’m sorry I can’t be an anarchist”
The whole room fell silent and every single eye was stuck upon me. An eccentric volubility descended over
the chief and his eyes grew red and appeared on the verge of popping out.
“An anarchist is no criminal” he shouted “he’s a boon to the world in disguise, he’s Lord’s servant sent
upon earth to efface its malignity, do you understand?”
I didn’t have the nerve to reply and he continued.
“And how can you say, you don’t need anything, huh!” he continued “you may be a simple man, but your
ambitions are not so”
“What do you mean?” I asked
“Don’t you need your Diana, Diana Roosevelt back with you” he said with a wily smile “and for that, you
know very well, what you’ve to do…I mean how much you have to earn”
This notion of his hammered me speechless and twisted my perception of this place. A minute ago, I was
finding an escape from this place, but now I perceived it as a rare opportunity to turn my sanguine to
veracity. And with this, I broke my speechlessness and uttered,
“What do I have to do?”
A spark of delight appeared on the Chief’s face and his eyes glowed with an unearthly ecstasy. He was
thrilled to the very essence, while the others looked at me astounded by my resentment.
“That’s like my boy!” the Chief exclaimed “we can pay you as much as you desire”
“Half-a-million” was my reluctant answer
“Let’s make it double” he raised his voice in delight “we’ll pay you a full million”
“A full million” exclaimed one of the men “that’ll be too much, Chief”
“We would never get a better volunteer that him” said the chief “I can peruse the thirst in his eyes, which
will make him do anything to quench it”
“But what do I have to do?” I asked
“A murder, a political assassination” he replied.
“An assassination” I exclaimed “Of Whom?”
“Lord Alloa” he answered “the beast in man’s disguise”
“Tell me, Mr. Smith” he continued “Will you do this?”
Nothing seemed beyond the desire of Diana, and her beautiful face emerged before my
eyes. The reminiscences of those moments of profound romanticism envisaged before my vision and for a
moment I flowed with the serene stream of repose and heartease and my heart was riveted in the depth of
the similar placidity that rested in our love. The bliss of intense equanimity surged through my veins and at
that moment, morality and immorality lost their significance, benignity and infernity, left its worth. It was
only the demented insanity of intense rave that remained descended over me, and I knew no confinement of
my conscience that would hinder me satiate my heart of its profound desire.
“Yes” was my answer.
“Let’s celebrate” shouted the Chief with complete delight in his eyes and the celebration, teeming with
wine and music engulfed the whole night, with a new face that had stepped in the vindictive world and
unfortunate, I was; for that face was mine. That night, the sheath of iniquity had seized my conscience, and
I forgot the void amid the Deity and the Satan…

…………………………………………..
 Chapter XIV

The feud of discorded prospects of viewing this resolution of mine, is like a crusade amid
my Ethics and my Desires, where both of them are in a strife to establish their dominion over their
Jerusalem - my sanity.
The power of Conscience, the Voice of God, had ordained me by its severe mandates and
had whispered to my essence that pursuing the path of my resolution will be a reprehensible act of
blasphemy, and no act of benignity would salvage me from this deep vale of profanity and I would be
excruciated by my own soul, which will not render me even a moment of pristine serenity. But when before
my vision, those eyes of Diana dabbed with fresh tears, when I had promised her before the Lord that I
would not endure The Realm of Love set ablaze, the divergence amid blasphemy and piety, sacrilege and
altruism, profanity and benignity, everything effaces and my heart only floats with the zephyr of a portrait
of Diana sulking in my arms, and thus overwhelms the power of Desires over the power of Ethics.
It was Persuasion, the persuasion of my naïve heart to satiate its own fancies that had led
me out from the trail of impeccant righteousness, where the golden rays of undefiled rectitude and integrity
used to lighten my steps to the trail of iniquitous depravity, veiled under the covert of darkness, stained
with felony where no rays of light could ever pervade and guide my steps, except the dark rays of infernity.
But the passion for my love was so profound, that no gust of morality was virile enough to waver me from
my resolution. I was destined to pull the trigger.
And thus, I hindered not myself to dissolve in this act. Each night, the same agent used to
come and escort me to A.C.A, and despite this, I was unable to decipher his name, which will always
remain an unfolded mystery. However his appearance, which I perceived as rather stoic loosened a trifle
with time and with the gradual ascent of our amity, I came to know, that behind the sheath of unsentimental
sturdiness, was a heart wailing at the ocean of anguish that it possessed, however I did not go deep into his
personal life, and as it was he had never resented upon disclosing it despite of my endeavours. But this was
not the only aspect of his that I had met with. He was also a slight humorist; however his sense of humour
was rather meagre and was always stirred with a touch of severity, which did appeal me a great deal.
Gradually, as time soared up and I flowed with its tide, a different prospect of viewing this world of theirs
elicited in my mind and I did not perceive it as demonic as a common man would, for behind every act of
theirs were concealed reasons, justifiable reasons. The Chief and his men became my regular companions
and soon I fell comfortable amongst them. At the depth of night, when the world remained asleep, we used
to execute our conference and discussions and construct plots for the threatening political assassination and
how it would give bounds of strain to the Government. The Chief used to show a smiting confidence in me,
however I perceived him rather fanatic. He appeared immensely learned and was rather a connoisseur of art
and history, but every moment of his went riveted in his mission and I had often seen him shouting and
speaking to himself. Not a word of humour has ever escaped his mouth and I had never seen him intensely
frivolous, except when he used to be ruminated in the reverie of his plan turning to reality. I had often
witnessed him consoling me when I used to be too frantic about this queer turn in my life. He had fed me
with the knowledge of Lord Alloa’s evil deeds and had instigated within my mind the essence of this
assassination. They had all the records of his iniquitous actions and I was made believe that it was not a sin
to commit the murder of a devious being like Lord Alloa, because of whom people are suffering, and I
should not deny that they succeeded to influence me against him. But a human heart will always remain a
human heart and whenever it displayed its impuissance, I was advised not to regret as it was unavailing; for
if not by me, he would have been assassinated by someone else. Many nights passed away, sleepless and
frenetic and I lost the pleasure of repose from my life. Day and Night I remained absorbed in my mission,
making plots, devising methods of attack, inventing ways of escape, discussing my ideas with my folks -
the anarchists, and the Chief was highly elated at my devotion. One day, upon my scheme, Dr. Grisham, an
intimate friend of Lord Alloa was kidnapped while he was having his meal and was brought to A.C.A,
sneakily in the same black car. The Chief was profoundly impressed by my strategy, for it was Dr.
Grisham in whose identity the murder had to be committed. There was an advantage behind my choice of
Dr. Grisham, that he had no family behind who would create a bedlam about his kidnapping and thus we
can keep him for as long as we desired. The Chief and other anarchist were flabbergasted at the frequency
with which my brain worked, and did persuade me join the world of theirs forever, however it was clear in
my mind that whatever I was doing was for Diana and no other purpose. Anyways, with the presence of Dr.
Grisham who was a sheer coward at heart and with whom it was easy to navigate, I was trained to walk,
talk, act and behave like Dr. Grisham, which did not at all appeared to be an encumbrance to me, however
the difference between my voice and appearance were indeed a colossal impediment for me and my folks.
As for the voice, there was no antidote except practice, which I did immensely and finally attained my
triumph, but the appearance was a big trouble. I tried my hands at fake moustache and beard like that of Dr.
Grisham upon the suggestion of the Chief and changed my attire to that of Dr. Grisham, but nothing did
avail, until one day a lady was summoned to A.C.A, who was presumed to change my appearance to Dr.
Grisham and the lady was summoned by the Chief who had such confidence upon her that he could even
put his life on wager if she would not completely transform me to what she had promised. She was
smitingly proficient at her work, however it took her 46 hours to complete with her personality
transformation and none of the anarchist dared to blink for those 46 hours of anxiety. However when her
magnificent piece of art was complete, a thunder of applause rippled all along the A.C.A and even Dr.
Grisham was stupefied at my sight, which appeared a mirror to him. Later on, I came to know that she was
a facial and make up artist for many Hollywood movies and movie stars. Having a look at me, the Chief’s
eyes glared with divine ecstasy and profound incredulity and at once he signatured a blank check and
handed it to the lady, however, she was forced to remain at A.C.A until the approaching of the
blasphemous night. And now, I was bestowed with the task to ensure my proficiency, by sending me to the
street where Dr. Grisham used to reside, and move freely in his identity. My work was to observe the
reaction of people. And the result was incredible; I would have shaken hands with almost a dozen of friends
and acquaintance of Dr. Grisham and none could sort out my bluff.
Within those days, I had acquired a genuine picture of the world and had found it to be
entirely different from what I had perceived. I came across various plots of politics, which for a common
man is utterly perilous to discern. I was explained a lot of that puzzled me - how once state suddenly came
on top, why alliances were made and broken, why certain men disappeared, and where the sinews of the
war came from. And various other such spine-chilling accounts and conspiracies which twisted my
perspective to view the panorama of this world.
And thus passed my training period, which left me completely visored for my infernal
intention, and though my heart was besieged amid the bounds of my volition, yet a chord of rectitude
floated within my senses, but this strain stirred with the whirl of futility for my destiny was destined to
commit the savage vandalism and attain the repose of contentment by the death of a dream. And no strain
of my conscience was virile enough to salvage me from this cavernous vale of Satanic ascendance.

………………………………………….....

Chapter XV

The blasphemous night soon arrived, when my eyes will witness the morphing of its
master to a fiendish murderer, and my arms would ascertain the virility that resides within it, to commit an
iniquitous deed like such, when my soul would testify its valour in the felonious world, and my sanity
would attest the dominance of my heart over its realm. The night, which will quench my heart of its deepest
and most esoteric aspiration. The night, which will witness the invasion of Desires over Conscience.
In the identity of Dr. Grisham I was seated in his mansion aside the telephone, awaiting a
call. While Dr. Grisham was seized by the anarchists as their captive. My countenance and features
resembled him so much that even I was unable to recognise myself and each time I looked through the
mirror, it was the image of Dr. Grisham that I could see. But I pity the make-up artist, because, after the
change of my personality was over, she was shot dead by the Chief.
Tonight, there was a party at Lord Alloa’s place for her daughter’s sixteenth birthday and
all their acquaintance would have been present. Even Dr. Grisham was invited. I genuinely behold within
my heart an earnest compassion for his daughter. At this tender age her forbearance would be impotent to
endure such bereavement and an affectionate hand would forever asunder apart from her, which would
shatter her naïve heart in pieces. And the author these sufferings would be no one else than me. How
desolate I would feel and how bleak my heart would be to ravage the peace from a blissful and prospering
family. And what would the left ones be called - Wife to a murdered husband and a daughter to a murdered
father. But this desolation of profound anguish had failed to exceed the essence of my love in my life; the
convulsive dudgeon that I regard for my love, for nothing is potent enough to surpass the bounds of passion
that I behold for Diana. And where was the time for deciding, I was already on the ominous verge of giving
time its face – a threatening face…
While I was ruminated in these thoughts, a sudden disturb to my meditation struck my
ears as telephone rings. I picked it at once, for I was awaiting it.
“Hello” I said “it’s me”
“Very well!” replied the Chief, from the other end “The time has come for the world to analyse our power”
“Yes Chief” I replied “its time for victory”
I heard a stern laughter on the other end.
“You know what to do” said the Chief “so don’t let me down”
“Trust me, Chief” I said, with immense conviction in my tone.
“Great! My boy” he said “its time to ravage the peace of the Government, God Luck son! You may leave
now”
The chief hung the phone and so did I.
Fishing the gun inside my buckle and concealing it well beneath my overcoat, I rose up
from the chair, like a venomous snake slithering to sting its victim. And in the disguise of the innocent
man, I made my way out, with the callous intention of which my victim was ignorant. I got out of his
house and met a few men downstairs, who appeared entirely clueless of my deceitful sham. I boarded in his
grand black car and made my way through the dark streets of which I was adept. I made no haste to the
approach of my destination, for it was not in the behaviour of the man, in the sheath of whom I resided and
neither did I yearn to hasten the doom of my victim. However, no one can alter what’s written in the
destiny, no not even the artist of the destiny. And finally, I approached my destination, which will have a
paradoxical circumstance of what it has now. The Frolic will turn to Mourning and the Opulence to
Austerity.
The magnificent garden was filled with chatter and merriment, and was bustling with
elegant lights. And in the midst of all gaiety and splendour that was stirred in every phase of air, I sauntered
in through the entrance, ignoring the hospitable greet of the gatekeeper with an airy gesture. The grass of
the lawn was cut in perfect measure and a momentary interest exuded through my emotions to look at the
beautiful couples and circles of men and women embellished in the most graceful and stately apparels.
There was hoard of people scattered all along the garden and most of them holding a glass of champagne
which were refilled at intervals by the cordial host of waiters serving the party their best. I looked around
suppressing a gasp of admiration at the breathtakingly frivolous milieu. However, many a couples and
parties of men and women came to me, which appeared quite a good acquaintance of Dr. Grisham and I
presume, I managed them pretty well, without letting them admit even the faintest ray of suspicion
regarding my true identity. But despite my swift blend in the party, I had my eyes hunting for its prey. And
after almost half an hour of waiting, I quitted the garden and moved to the vast hall.
The hall was incredibly large and voluminous and was lit up with the golden incandescent
lamps fixed below the ceilings upon the walls. The magnanimous chandeliers hanging upon the ceiling
complementing its grandeur and the glazing marble floor weaved an aura of classicism blended with
celebration. A soft music floated in the air and many of the couples performed the ball, while many enjoyed
their drink with all mirth and vivacity. Many of them merely maundered around and sought frolic out of
that, while many sat around the table and conceded discussions. The entire ambience was strangely artistic
and it was indeed a pleasure to blend in its verve and exuberance.
While I stood at a corner of the hall, my eyes suddenly fell upon a beautiful adolescent girl
making her way towards me, with a cheerful smile wide upon her visage. I perused her from top to bottom
and found her to be of the kind that incites a sudden evocative passion at the first sight. She had a
charismatic and enticing poise about herself and gave the moment an arousing and sensational appearance.
The glistening golden skin of hers complemented her Cinderella white dress and the velvety gloves veiling
her arms incanted a spell over me, which charmed me by its winsomeness. The feline manner of her
walking revealing her curves which enamoured and captivated my senses. Her beautiful seraphic face with
her bright grey eyes exuding its radiance and her golden curls aside, resting above her shoulders and beauty
bone. Her petite nose when breathed swelled her bosom and at approaching close to me she parted her lips
and shot an amicable flash of her measured teeth. For a little while, my eyes remained fixed at this divine
creation and I uttered nothing, startled by the unblemished piece of art that rested before my vision.
She came close to me, still with her affable smile playing upon her lips and cried cheerfully
‘Grisham uncle!’ and swung her arms around me. The aroma of her body tickled my nostrils, but now the
spell had absolved my senses of its captivation and a sudden seizure of consciousness had descended over
me. At that very moment, I realised that she was the guest of occasion, the birthday girl.
“Happy birthday, Saira” I exclaimed with great conviction in my tone. She flashed a gratified expression
upon her angelic features.
“Oh! Thank you, Uncle” she said gleefully with that counterfeit smile of gratitude and accepted the present
that I fished out of my coat and handed to her.
“So Saira” I continued “Where’s your dad?”
“He must be somewhere around” she shrugged uncertainly “maybe”
I gave a wry smile.
“I am really glad that you’ve come, Uncle” she said, finding no element for conversation.
“I had to, sweetheart” I replied “After all I’m your family physician and I got to keep a check”
Saira smiled at my low wit, then suddenly said with a bewildered look “Your voice seems much changed”
I fancy I turned a trifle pale and spontaneously replied “Cold, that’s it”
“Ah! Okay” she replied, pretty disconcerted “Anyways, I’ve to go now, I cannot keep my friends waiting”
“Oh! Yes, sure”
“Alright bye”
“Goodbye”
We waved each other adieu and off she went away and vanished somewhere in the swarm
of people.
The lights grew brighter with the brightening of the silver sphere in the sky and so did the
amusement. The music that was filled with complacency slowly turned ravishing with the ascent of time,
the laughter was easier minute by minute, filled with prodigality tipped out at a cheerful word. The groups
began to change more swiftly and the party swelled with new arrivals. The consumption of champagne and
whisky rose at a measure and the mélange and intermingling of several assorts began. The party came alive
with the singing and dancing and the elegant dining, splendid with embellished women sticking to the arm
of their affluent men, and some staring at their desired ones. With the soar of moments, the celebration
surged with jubilation and festivity.
At about an hour past midnight the orchestra has arrived, no thin five-piece affair, but a
whole pitful of oboes and trombones and saxophones and viols and cornets and piccolos, and low and high
drums.
The golden lights of the hall were made dimmer and several couples boarded the dance floor.
The ball surged to its crest with the tender chord that floated in the air. And soon the whole milieu sulked
with demure romanticism, which touched the chord of my bosom. The ball overtook my interest and
suddenly, out of the blue, from somewhere an old figure emerged sauntering in the hall. He was
accompanied by his wife and the couple appeared peculiarly celebrated. They sought all the attention in the
party at once and when the man turned, I caught the sight of his face. He was my victim, Lord Alloa. His
wife who was profoundly frivolous in the euphoric party, was incessantly insisting him to board the dance
floor and he, being of a conscientious persona, endeavoured his best to will her give up her demand. But
ladies can be inexorable at times especially when they are intensely blithesome and so, she kept on insisting
and he kept on denying with a timorous and shy smile imposed upon his lips by the incongruity and novelty
of the circumstance. The people around seemed to enjoy this cordial feud and some of them even rendered
their opinions, which definitely supported his wife’s side. And finally, when his timidity exceeded the
bounds of endurance, his wife with a wide grin pulled him to the dance floor. Everyone in the hall,
including the dancers congregated around the old couple and clapped with profound felicity. I could notice
a shade of incredulity in their expression, while the old man whirled his wife through the waltz…but for the
last time. All this continued for a little while, until the couple took its bow before the crowd with that silly
smile of chagrin blended with joviality. A ripple of applause echoed in the hall and the couple departed
from the dance floor with all the complements which were mere cajolery of the affluent, who can feed
anyone with gratified vanity in their desire for indulgence and opulence. For a little while, the scene of the
hall appeared fragmented and the music held no significance. Such was the aura weaved by the presence of
this weighty figure who was deeply revered by each mortal soul that witnessed this ostentatious
celebration. But soon this mystique atmosphere subsided as the flavour of that sensational figure
disappeared somewhere and again the ball soared to its acme, again the music wailed in the air, again the
polished bodies twisted on the rhythm of the tune surging like waves, again the gusts of profound
exhilaration suspired in the scene and again the ambience bristled with flair and éclat of unparalleled
splendour and elegance.
I was no more riveted in admiring the grandeur of the party, for the moment of iniquity
had arrived. I noticed Lord Alloa quitting the hall with a glass of whisky. I followed him secretly and found
him standing in a remote corner of the garden, away from the crowd. His face conspired, that something
was hindering him take pleasure in the majestic party and appeared as though ruminating upon something. I
perceived it as a perfect moment and a wonderful opportunity to execute my plan. Immediately, I sprung up
from the chair and darted towards the waiter who was carrying two glasses of whisky on the tray. I jumped
onto those and picked up both of them. A placid smile broke upon the priest-like face of the waiter which
was mere pretence and he wished me a ‘good evening’. However, I hardly took heed of his greetings and he
went away still wearing that false smile upon his visage. Getting a moment of secrecy, I turned back and
rested both the glasses on the table, then fished out the little tube of drug from my chest pocket and stirred
it well in one of the glass of whiskies. The drug was supposed to suffocate him; however, it was not fatal,
for the fellow was destined to be shot dead. And carrying both the glasses, I headed towards him with my
devious intention. But suddenly I stopped. He was already busy with a glass of whisky and I had a pure
conviction that he would not go for another and therefore, on the spur of the moment, I devised a remedy.
As soon as I sauntered out of the hall to the garden, I made my footsteps rather swift, almost stumbling.
And as I approached close to him, I completely stumbled upon him. He bent down jerkily and the glass of
whisky fell from his hand, spilling upon the grass. Lord Alloa turned back in consternation and my pretence
of apology followed. But after he recognized my face, his countenance completely altered.
“Ah! Doctor!” he exclaimed “When did you come, I am sorry I could not welcome you”
“I apologise again” I blurted, pretending still to be slightly frantic for the incidence.
“Oh! No, you needn’t” he said, smiling “its okay”
“Well!” I paused “you may go for another one”
Saying this in a cheerful tone, I offered him the poisoned glass and requested him to have it.
“No, no, its okay” he said “I was about to finish that one”
“Oh! Come on” I pleaded “Else I’ll feel bad”
Lord Alloa gave a gratuitous smile and whispered “how can I defer my doctor’s request”
Saying this, he held the glass of whisky and began with what ‘I’ had intended, completely oblivious that
these were the very last moments of his life. For a little while we walked together and discussed his ‘future’
plans, while I remained absorbed in the gradual seizure of perspiration that overtook his forehead and
palms. I could notice his breaths getting heavy and his frequent gasping that were growing severe.
Suddenly, while we were on the farthest corner of the garden, he seized a sudden lull and his hands
trembled with unspeakable vigour. His eyes grew bloodshot red and watery and perspiration poured out
from every pore that drenched him with sweat. He began to cough vehemently and finally tottered and
collapsed. Lying on the ground, he looked into my eyes and managed to utter with immense difficulty
“Doctor…”. I looked deep into his bloodshot eyes and fathomed the intensity of pain that may smother him
any minute. A gust of compassion wheezed within me, but I was powerless and once again my Desires
suppressed my Conscience. I lifted him to my shoulders and carried him to the backyard of his mansion.
From there, I moved secretly into his house, which was dark and deserted. However, I managed to figure
out the staircase and stepped up, despite of the weight of Lord Alloa pressing on my shoulder. Reaching
close to a room, I kicked the door and flung it open and finding the switchboard blindly upon the wall, I
switched on the lights and threw my victim upon the bed. I could notice the gleam of hope in his eyes,
expecting me to do a doctor’s job. But little did he realise the irony that he’ll soon meet. And latching the
door and the window, I slowly removed my fake moustache. Lord Alloa’s countenance froze to death and
the gleam of hope in his eyes altered to a gleam of incredulity stirred with inestimable intensity of
passionate furore. However, I was contented that I did not blemish the purity of a bond called friendship.
And finally, I unbuttoned my overcoat and pulled out the pistol from my buckle. Aiming it
on his forehead, I closed my eyes and valiantly pulled the trigger. Splashes of thick dark blood stained my
face and a cloud of smoke rested before my vision. A faint ‘why’ was what I heard, the final word. His eyes
went pale, but still gleamed with the flare of fervidity.
The celebration still soared with revelry and conviviality and not a tinge did fade in its
gentility and resplendence. A faint melody whined in the air which surged from the Elysian field, which
was bristling with splendiferous élan and profound elegance. I waved my hand against his face and those
gleaming eyes lost its radiance…forever.

The holocaust was complete…

………………………………………………..
 Chapter XVI

Reminiscences, the quaintest of moments for a mortal soul to envisage. Moments of

glancing back at the panorama of one’s life. Moments of unveiling the covert of one’s own past, in
solemnity of solitude. Moments, which are fresh and pure in the cauldron of memories. Moments that
makes your heart float with the zephyr of beatitude or blow with the gust of misery. Moments, that can
break a smile upon your lips, or shed a tear. Moments that can stir exulted vanity or blemish with odious
chagrin. Moments of benignity and savagery. Moments of veneration and contempt. Moments of sanguine
and despair. Indeed, life is an abode of diverse moments filled with diverse emotions, some of which
remains young in the bearers heart to cherish and embrace one’s life, or wail at its destitution, while some
perishes with the ascent of time. Moments are a priceless treasure, which eternally remains ours and no
creation of Lord’s hand is valiant enough to seize those unforgettable memories which dwell within our
hearts…
I smelt the invigorating fragrance of the scarlet rose, and salvaged my senses from the
profundity of memories. Looking at the green stem, I heaved a sigh of complacency. My heart flowed with
the stream of fathomless repose and I was intensely gratified that I had overcome the worst and the most
horrendous phase of my life. The phase, when I received the reward of my felony – a million, and left the
path of iniquity forever. When the wailing screams at the funeral haunted in my dreams and scourged my
heart like lashes, when the images of the coffin being buried under the grave captured my vision, when
each moment went riveted the excruciating vale of repentance, when the apparition of that blood stained
face seized my sight and when the gust of deep remorse blowed within my heart. Those moments were
indeed unbearable, which agonised my essence until it wailed with earnest tears. But unavailing were my
qualms, for I had not the potency to alter the past. Although, I cannot efface my past from my
reminiscences, but can certainly immerse in the shovel of heartsease and serenity, for I was standing on the
summit of the same hill where once Diana and I had relished the magnificence and splendour of the
scenery and of Love. And thus, I awaited the arrival of Diana, riveted deep into the intensity of blitheness
with a spirit repleted with felicity, until that moment of wonder blended with exaltation did arrive.
The panorama from the summit of the hill was incredulously invigorating. It was a
picturesque landscape that rested before my vision. The composure with which the cool gentle breeze
floated, fluttering my hair, rendered my heart the pacific equanimity of serenity. The fresh green foliage
that rested around me and the music of the rustle of the leaves placated my soul with its pristinity. The veil
of dawn, the mist was stirred in every phase of air and the vagueness rendered by this covert of the break
of dawn, heightened the charismatic prospect of this adorable scenery. And the cloudy overcast sky of the
scenic dawn that rested above my eyelid incanted my senses of its grandeur. And in the midst of the
novelty and freshness of this splendorous and opulent dawn, I stood admiring the magnificence of the
moment, with a scarlet rose in my hand.
Suddenly, before my sight emerged a figure, shearing the mist and my heart wafted with
the chord of intense contentment. My spirit ascended to the seventh heaven when my eyes met her face.
She sauntered like a seraph in her lily-white dress and her visage surged a bloom of youth, which incited
my most esoteric desires. Her features exuded an endearing enamour and bewitched my senses by its
ravishing resplendence. Her countenance when resorted by the soft breeze blowing against her fair
complexion made my heart pound with intense vigour. Still her mahogany hair fluttered with the wind and
her deep blue eyes beheld its profundity. And when this exemplar of charismatic charm and a paradigm of
beauty walked close to me, I fell on my knees and offered her the scarlet rose. A demure smile played upon
her lips and she accepted the rose and chafed its tender petals upon her angelic face.
“I have done it, Diana” I whispered “you are all mine”
Diana’s eyes glinted and a drop of tear trickled down her cheek. Her nose went pink and
cheeks turned rosy. A blushful shade flushed upon her visage and her eyelids bent down with homage.
Suddenly, I noticed a diamond ring embellished on her finger and I realised that those eyelids were bent by
chagrin and not by homage. I looked down and saw Henry’s car lying on the lane. A gale of intense
poignance wailed within my heart and my soul was tormented by this excruciating vandalism of my
emotions. A pine of agonizing heartache anguished my essence and I rose up with my eyes shimmering
with solemn tears. With a last glance in her sedate deep blue eyes replete with serenity, I moved away and
finally faded amid the mist…
After this moment, I never smelt the redolence of this earth or fragrance of scarlet roses.
Never admired the resplendence of dawn or beauty of a woman. Never relished the flavours of coffee or
flair of literature. Never adored the Break Of Dawn or the Depth of Darkness. After this moment, I never
ever breathed. I had absolved myself from the bondage of existence in this savage world, which is not an
abode of emotions, for the eventual tempest of The Realm Of Love had surpassed the bounds of my
forbearance…

…………………………………………….

THE END