You rarely see a Man as serious as he was. I was walking across the rain clad street, drenched and hurt. As if losing the job wasn’t enough, my notorious brother ran away with all our money. My fate just didn’t fit in any good, and I was feeling the worst situation of my Life. Not that I was perfectly broke, my Mom had some savings, but they were a mere console for a monstrous grief.
Walking down the rain, I was holding the umbrella loosely. My whole attention was on the man, drenching invariably, seeming like he had no tomorrow. I had thought from a distance, that he was just a serious melancholic being, but as I neared him, he was devastated. I am not that prejudiced, I know people have worse situations than mine. What I was thinking for a calamity, was just a wave that had hit me. Here was a man, fighting a tsunami.
What all can you do to a broken being, when you don’t know of your own integrity? All I could do was to protect him from drenching, a broken heart gets worse with a flowing nose.
My affable gesture was not enough to sympathize. I saw the bouquet lying, smelling beautiful. I knew what it could be, but I didn’t want to entertain any premonitions.
I looked at the Man, he looking at me. His long hair were messy and wet, his face a handsome cut, with those piercing set of eyes, looking at me straight. Those eyes just prompted me to care for him, a set of magnets that just force you to care for him. I don’t know if I was the only one feeling this affinity. I just pulled my handkerchief out, gave it to him. His cold hands met mine, and I just felt a shiver.
He was staring blankly, his wet hair seeping of water. I just knew I had to tell him he should wipe his face first.
“Can you just, wipe your face?”
“Hmm…” he responded blankly.
He looked down and took his bouquet. He started wiping the red roses. Surely he had gone berserk. Some griefs just shake up your system.
“Why are you wiping the roses?”
“Because this is my heart. More valuable, than my face, to me.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I thought of asking him of his place.
“Where do you live? And what’s your name?”
“Om. Oberoi Mansion.”
I was standing there absolutely shocked. So this crazy man was from Oberoi Mansion? God forbid, what if something had happened to him? And moreover, he could just blame me for all this and get me jailed. But why would he do that? My mind was hum bugging with irrelevant queries. But just one meaningful question struck me, what should I do now?
“My Car, is it here?”
“I don’t know, but what happened to you?”
Before he answered me, a black, posh vehicle honked. And a man immediately came out, opening its door.
He looked towards me, “come with me.” I just complied curiously, for I didn’t know what I had gotten myself in.
“Say no to plagiarism.”
A new story, just to meddle myself with this platform. Worry not, its just a short story. I think I’ll end it in just 2-3 more updates.
This is for the Rikara fans, who get nothing from the series. I just wanted to help you all, I myself could find some solace in this way.
Thank you, make sure to give a comment and a like or a dislike.
Lots of Bhalobasha,