A thrill ran up her arm. Khanak reflexively pulled at her hand but Shaan wouldn’t let go. Rather he held on even tighter.
“C’mon Shan…not in front of strangers!”
“Sweetheart, Tarun isn’t any man of the street. He’s one of our own, aren’t you Tarun?”
“What is all this? What are you hiding from me?” Tarun stared at them with a perplexed look on his face.
“Oh you don’t know? Were you missing from last night’s party? But of course! You were out on one your usual skirt chasing jaunts. Time to settle down Tarun!” Shan said grinning broadly.
Tarun went red in the face, “Keep out of my affairs Shan. Just tell me what’s going on!”
Shaan exchanged a glance with Khanak; “Alright then Tarun, I present to you my fiancé,”
“Fiancé?”
“You didn’t get it? She is my mangetar, my hone waali, my partner for life. Gosh! Am I lucky or what!” Shaan iterated as he wrapped his arm around Khanak’s waist and tried to force her on to his lap while she blushingly resisted.
Tarun gawked at them; “How? When?”
“It’s been a while… when Khanak and I went to Chennai for her cousin’s wedding. I was waiting for the perfect moment and it presented itself during the reception party in the presence of her whole family.” Shan looked at Khanak and she nodded her approval, “We wanted to keep it a secret and announce it later but last night my hand was forced. You can ask Tash, she was there and was shocked too just like you.”
“Yes,” Khanak said; “poor thing, she even asked to see my ring. I felt so bad for her.” She placed a hand on her heart and managed to look genuinely sympathetic.
Khanak sat up with a start. It took her several seconds to get her bearings. She had been having a rather pleasant dream. She was strolling along a river cuddled up to a very handsome man with a strangely familiar face. It seemed as if they were in a foreign land, someplace very romantic and he was whispering sweet nothings in her ear. He had been about to kiss her when the beeper had gone off. She glared at it as it lay on her bedside table.
Khanak was in the call room of the hospital. She had just joined the staff as an attending three months ago. Being a conscientious young physician, she had made it a point to spend her nights on duty on site. After graduating with top honors she had chosen to study further and had completed her Doctor of Medicine degree in General Medicine six months ago. Her mother had urged her to settle down and get married but Khanak had refused saying that her life had just started and she needed to establish herself in her career. “Besides mommy dearest,” she had told her. “What does your daughter lack? I am smart, young and not bad to look at I hope, except for my dark circles. But those can be easily hidden with makeup. And with my credentials, I can have anybody I want. So don’t you worry. Eligible boys will line up on their own!”
Her mother had laughed and indulgently shaken her head. She was very proud of her eldest child. But a mother’s heart could never stop worrying.
Khanak sighed and dialed the number on the pager; “This is Dr. Agarwal.”
“Dr. Agarwal, it’s Mr. Gupta in Room 3. He says he can’t sleep and would like a sleep aid!
But then he has the lights and the TV on.”
“Tell him to turn them both off. I’d rather try that before giving him something that might make him stop breathing, him being so incredibly obese. Try to make him understand. I know you can.”
“Yes Doc, I agree completely. I will talk to him.”
Khanak smiled. The nurses liked her and that was a good thing. Or else they would nag her all night with little things. Some PR always helps. She lay down again and tried to recall her dream when the pager went off again; “It appears I have to cancel my date with my Prince Charming!”
“Dr. Agarwal, can you please come up to the 4th floor? Mrs. Kocchar in Room 16 is having trouble breathing. She can barely speak; I’m really worried about her.”
“Is she having any chest pain? Did you do an ECG?”
“No Doctor, she is not having any chest pain. But I will get an EKG right away.”
“Okay, please also get a Chest X ray. I’ll be there in a few.” Khanak grabbed her coat and rushed to the 4th Floor that was devoted to the cardiac patients. She took a quick look at Mrs. Kochar’s chart and reviewed her EKG. Fortunately, it did not show any changes. But her blood pressure was up and her oxygen levels were low. She went into the room and saw a very anxious lady in her mid-sixties who was sitting up in bed and breathing hard. She was clutching at her oxygen mask and a man who appeared to be her husband was standing beside her looking equally anxious and worried. Khanak introduced herself and asked if she could examine Mrs. Kochar.
Mr. Kochar looked relieved while his wife could only nod. Khanak efficiently examined Mrs. Kochar while quietly asking her a few questions following which she reviewed her Xray. Then she said; “It’s nothing to worry about. There is buildup of some extra fluid in the lungs and that can be easily fixed with medication. Since Mrs. Kochar has just suffered a heart attack these things are a common occurrence. She has to be careful and watch her salt and fluid intake from now on.”
“So she doesn’t have pneumonia?” asked Mr. Kochar.
“No she doesn’t. She should start feeling better soon. I’m here all night and will come by to check on her before I leave.”
Khanak walked out of the room relieved that it had been a relatively easy problem. She glanced at her pager as it had gone off again.
“Mr. Bansal is dying. His family wants to speak with you. Can you come by?”
Khanak knew 80-year-old Mr. Bansal very well. He had been trying to die for the past few days after suffering a massive stroke that had affected most of his brain. His family had been in shock and had refused to come to terms with his bad prognosis. But after much discussion they had finally accepted that living like a vegetable on machines would have been unacceptable to him. It was best to let him die with dignity.
Shantanu rushed into the huge foyer and saw it quite empty except for his Dadi (grandma) who was trying to console a little girl dressed in pink.
“Megha!”
“Chachu!”
Shantanu looked questioningly at Dadi who looked concerned.
Dadi was Sunil Khandelwaal’s (Shantanu’s father’s) mother. She had been widowed at a relatively young age and had brought up her only son on her own. She was a strong woman with an even stronger personality and no one took her lightly. Shantanu was her favorite grandson and it was obvious that he took after her.
“Shantanu, Megha has been ready and waiting for you here for the past three hours,” Dadi said. “And no matter how many times I reassured her you’d surely come she wouldn’t leave this spot! After all she’s just a child.”
“Yes Dadi. Rest assured it won’t happen again in the future,” Shantanu said before turning to his niece. “Sorry I was a little delayed but our date is still on.”
Megha smiled appearing none the worse for wear, “Chachu I repeated that stupid word at least a hundred times and it didn’t work. Why? Is it because I’m a bad girl?”
“Of course not!” Shantanu chided her playfully. “Sometimes magic can get old and rusty. Next time I promise it’ll work right away. No waiting and no tears.”
“Cross your heart and hope to die?” Megha asked in all seriousness.
“Yes or you will make my cry!” Shantanu laughed. “Shall we leave? We don’t want to miss the beginning.” He clasped Megha’s hand, waved to Dadi and turned to walk out.
“Megha! Shantanu! Where are you going? Hamein nahin bulaya (You didn’t invite me)?” rang out Khushboo bhabhi’s familiar sing song voice that rarely changed its tone and tended to irritate Shantanu a lot.
Khushboo was Shantanu’s beautiful and classy sister-in-law, his brother Akshay’s wife, who carried an air of self-importance about her. People didn’t matter to her. What did was their social status and bank balance and she had the habit of walking around with her nose in the air. So much that Shantanu often wondered if she would run into a wall. What had Akshay bro seen in her that others hadn’t?
“Mom I’m going on a date with Shantanu uncle and you are not invited!” Megha announced gripping Shantanu’s hand tight.
Khushboo looked pityingly at her brother-in-law, “Poor boy. What a sad plight. You just had to ask and I would have hooked you up with some grown-ups.”
“Thanks but no bhabhi. I could never live up to your standards. You would have been embarrassed. Besides, this little girl of yours has an IQ higher than any grown-up you have in mind.”
“Congratulations Sir! This project will be huge for our company. Could I have the good fortune of being assigned to it? Since you are busy handling multiple projects here, you need someone reliable on the other end. What do you think sir?”
Shantanu perused Gautam, his Project Manager with interest. His tenure with their company was just six months old and he was already looking greedy. His aggressiveness could be both good and bad. Shantanu offered him an enigmatic smile; “Thanks. I will consider it.”
*
Gautam walked out of the office with dejection written clearly on his face. He was greeted with a pitying look from Shantanu’s new secretary, Sheila. “Take my advice and hold on to your horses Gautam. Boss hates upstarts;” she giggled as he glared at her and went back to filing her nails.
*
Meanwhile Shantanu was on the phone with his brother…
“Yes Akshay bro! Kaho kaise yaad kiya? What’s up?”
“Congrats man!”
“Thanks. It’s no big deal,” Shantanu said as he gazed out at the Mumbai skyline.
“What do you mean by no big deal? It is for our company. I saw a smile on Dad’s face after a long time. So that two-month trip did pay off finally huh?”
“Yes bro. Bahut papad belne pade (I had to work really hard) but it was all worth it. I’m glad you and dad are happy.”“We are proud of you little bro no shaq! Welcome to the company!”
“Thanks bro, thank you very much.”
So this is Shantanu Khandelwal. Young, rich, ambitious, smart and ruthless when it came to doing business. He knew what he wanted and would not stop at anything to get it, as long as it did not involve breaking the law. He had inherited this trait from his father who had worked tirelessly all his life to build his empire. His advice to him had always been not to let emotions come in the way of progress and he agreed with him so far. Anyhow he had only just started. He wanted to make a name for himself apart from his dad and big brother—Shantanu Khandelwal, renowned architect, town planner etc. etc.
There was a knock on the door and his secretary walked in without asking for his permission. He wondered what had it been about her that had impressed old Mrs. Khatri so much to recommend her. Mrs. Khatri had left happily. She had retired after working faithfully for the company for over thirty years. But she had left him with this piece of work. Sheila had decent diction, was punctual, her turnaround time for letters and such was acceptable but she had an abysmal dress sense and of late was behaving a little too familiar with him. That was one of the reasons why he had trouble taking women seriously. They always seemed to have an ulterior motive. Just then an image of a pair of beautiful black eyes flashed in his mind. No not like that woman. She was something else.
Ok I agree. The book was awfully written and I truly apologize to all those who want to tell me so. Yes I get your message loud and clear. If you are wondering what I am talking about please check thislink. I should not have published it. I wish I could undo the wrong but I can’t. So I guess I have to live with it 🙁
Now a critical question (critical for me). What happens to the sequel? What happens to the rest of Shaan and Ruhi’s tale? Is there anyone who cares to know? Anyone out there who wishes to read it? What should I do now that I have completed the manuscript? Should I scrap it? Consign it to flames (metamorphically speaking)? Please tell me because I want to know.
Hope you are all enjoying The New Year and have not broken your resolutions already. If you have that’s okay. There will be several more opportunities to make and keep them in the future.
I am presenting before you a story of mine that I wrote a while ago before my first novel. Some of you are familiar with it. It bears a special place in my heart because it helped me discover the writer inside me. Hope you like it 🙂
HUMAN AFTER ALL
Human After All is a phrase I picked up from a favorite song of mine by Level 42. It struck me as being so basic yet poignant to the human condition that I had to make it the underlying theme of my story. So while reading and pondering about the goings on I’ll ask all of you to keep it in my mind, that we are all ‘Human After All’– liable to make mistakes, jump to conclusions, have misunderstandings and be generally crazy!
So here’s a brief intro of our protagonists:
Khanak Agarwal is a young, sincere, hardworking doctor who truly believes in the essential goodness of mankind.
Shantanu Khandelwal is a Harvard educated architect who is ambitious and leery of developing lasting relationships with women. That is until he stumbles into our heroine.
PROLOGUE
Why does it always have to happen this way? Why do I always have to be last in line for the loo? Why do they discriminate between economy and other classes? Do they think we have better bladder control?
“No ma’am you can’t come in here. This is business class.”
Khanak couldn’t control her urge any longer and began hopping from one leg to the other; “You don’t have to tell me that. I know very well this is business class and that is the why I’m here! Please can I use the rest room? Back there, it’s like a zoo!”
“No ma’am, I’m sorry but you have to wait. Those are the rules!”
“Who are you to tell me the rules? When nature calls you have to obey! If you don’t allow me in here, I may have an accident and you’d be responsible, not me!”
The German stewardess who looked clearly flustered decided to give in and let Khanak use the rest room. Anyhow it was empty. Khanak nodded her thanks and breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that her ruse had worked, or else… She didn’t want to think about it.
***
“Oh! We’ll be landing in forty minutes! I better finish these pooris. Though they are more like cardboard in consistency but we shouldn’t waste anything, should we son? When they charge us an arm and a leg for each seat!”
Shantanu nodded relieved he didn’t have to tolerate Mr. Gupta’s company for much longer. He had found the New York to Germany segment reasonably amusing with no one in the adjacent seat and a very beautiful blonde stewardess at his beck and call. The only sore point had been that his favorite magazine had decided to dedicate its latest issue to women! Women in business, politics and other professions. He hadn’t found a single article that concurred with his POV. That women are the weaker sex and good for only a couple of things. What had the world come to?
Then plump Mr. Gupta had joined him in Frankfurt and had been so delighted to sit next to a fellow Indian that he had chosen to enlighten him with his life story in not so few words. Despite Shantanu’s best efforts to show his disinterest, Mr. Gupta refused to be dissuaded until he fell asleep, But then his snoring akin to a steam engine passing through a tunnel, kept everyone awake.
Shantanu turned up the volume on his headphones wondering how someone could talk and eat at the same time. Beethoven’s 9th thundered in his ears. It was one of his favorite symphonies. As he began to lose himself in the final crescendo, he felt someone roughly jolt his shoulder. He opened his eyes irritably and saw Mr. Gupta clutching at his thick throat. He was choking!
Serve him right! was Shantanu’s first reaction yet when he saw the man’s eyes start to bulge he panicked and hit the call button. The beautiful blonde made her appearance almost immediately but when she saw Mr. Gupta she called for assistance. A big burly steward shook the poor man by the shoulder and asked him something unintelligible. Mr. Gupta didn’t respond because he was in extremis. He started clawing at his throat.
“He needs a doctor now!”Shantanu yelled as he watched his companion’s plump face turn a bluish hue and beads of sweat pour down his face.
“I am a doctor! Move out of the way!”A petite slim Indian girl announced with a very authoritative voice as she shouldered her way through. She had said the magic words. The burly German who dwarfed her willingly stood aside.
“Are you choking?” she asked Mr. Gupta. When he nodded, she made him stand up and positioned herself behind him. Shantanu didn’t know how she accomplished it but she encircled Mr Gupta’s huge chest with her arms and thrust repeatedly inward with her fist. On the third try a large piece of brown stuff flew out of his mouth and he started coughing loudly and color rapidly returned to his face.
Everyone smiled and breathed a collective sigh of relief as Mr. Gupta indicated he was fine. Then they all pumped the girl’s hands and thanked her profusely.
“Dhanyawad beta, you saved my life. I don’t know how to show you my gratitude,” Mr. Gupta said.
“It’s alright sir. I was just doing my duty, that’s all. I’m happy I was around and I could be of help.”
“Help?! That’s an understatement! What you did was a miracle!”Shantanu chipped in having been a silent witness so far.
She turned as if noticing him for the first time. She wasn’t much older than mid or late twenties and had the most beautiful jet black eyes. But now they were looking at him with scorn, “Mister, if you wish to call it a miracle, you can, But it’s all in a day’s work for doctors like me.”
Mr. Gupta butted in, “Beta! At least tell me your name and address, so I can send you a thankyou gift.”
“Dr. Khanak Agarwal, and sir, your thanks is a gift in itself.”
She walked away with her head held high and without giving Shantanu a second glance. Women didn’t do that when it came to Shantanu Khandelwal. He was intrigued.
Khanak’s breath caught in her throat and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she’d failed to notice the car.
Dreading the worst, she chanced a peak out of the corner of her eyes and saw them; three men in a dark red convertible that was hugging the sidewalk and trailing just behind her.
It was her worst nightmare.
Why me?
Ignore them!
Lifting her head, her posture belying a confidence she lacked, Khanak fought an irresistible urge to flee and resolutely continued to trot on.
But The SOBs were tenacious young hounds, disinhibited and emboldened by a liquor.
The vehicle drew in front blocking her progress as she made to cross the street.
She could now clearly see their faces—young slackers who free loaded off their rich dads and whose souls were sold to a life time of sin.
Within moments she was surrounded. They circled around her like hyenas; their blood shot lascivious eyes gloating over her as if she was a piece of meat on the butcher’s block.
She took a step backwards as her skin crawled with revulsion. Her hand instinctively reached for her stole before she realized she had none.
An oily faced juvenile delinquent; his hand still clinging on to an empty bottle, shot up from depths of the back seat of the car and mumbled; his words an indistinguishable slurry.
“Itni raat gaye, jaaneman…road par.. akele..ek.. khoob surat ladki?” (So late in the night sweetheart, a lone girl alone on the street….)
“Kyun? Nahin chal sakti? Tere baap ka naam likha hai kya?” (Why can’t I walk? Does your father own this road?) She shot back taking cover behind a facade of aggression.
The rogues were taken aback but only momentarily. They roared with glee and inched closer; “Chikni toh teekhi churi nikli yaar…phir toh aur bhi mazei hain…” (Pretty girl is also sharp like a knife. Thereby she will be more fun.)
She eyed them warily, her mind fighting the numbness brought on by fear. She gripped her purse tighter as her palms turned began to perspire.
One of them decided to take the initiative and made a grab for her.
“Aage mat aana nahin toh goli maar doongi!” (Don’t come forward or else I will shoot!) she screamed.
“She’s kidding yaar!” they laughed but stopped in their tracks; their attention riveted as she made a show of slipping her hand inside her purse. She was desperate.
It has been more than fifteen years since I left my homeland and as expected the memories have begun to fade. Yet some persist stark and bright reinforced by odors, colors and textures and often bring a whimsical tear to my eye. If I go back now, I doubt my experiences will be similar as I’m older thereby more cynical though I like to think otherwise. Some of these reminisces are irreplaceable and as I don’t trust my brain enough I try to preserve them in my writings. Taking atanga (horse drawn carriage) ride in Agra or through the streets of Old Delhi is one of them. The following scene in The Accidental Wife illustrates it—
Then turning to Naina, Rihaan asked, “What now wife?”
She colored, appearing markedly disconcerted and made toward the autorickshaw stand.
He yanked her back. “No, that’s not what I had in mind.”
A few minutes later they were on their way.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Naina looked at Rihaan, concerned.
“I’m perfectly fine. Couldn’t have asked for anything better.” He let out a contented sigh, allowing his head to sink back into a pillow of fresh straw, and his worn out body to stretch along the length of the traditional tanga. With eyes closed, he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with a mixture of the sweet hay and horse dung. The jerking rhythm, the clip clop of horse’s hooves, punctuated by the shrill cries of the tangawallah as they made their way through the busy thoroughfare was strangely comforting.
Tash’s voice resounded loud and harsh in the sudden hush that descended on the club. Loud enough to rudely jar the deeply engrossed couple out of their reverie.
This was not acceptable to Diva who followed his arch enemy onto the stage.“Tash leave them alone’” he exclaimed. “You are stretching your limits.”
“Yes you are.’” Shan declared irritably not pleased at the interruption especially when he felt the time was ripe to declare his feelings to Khanak who seemed at her most pliant and thawed out state.
But the object of his affections looked shaken and she was staring at his nemesis, her eyes wide with alarm. This caused him further aggravation and he instinctively drew her closer.
“What is this crap are you talking about?” He asked Tash with a sardonic grin; “…the dance?” Then he looked around in an effort to the entire throng of fans; “What say y’ all? Was the dance crap?”
“Nooooooo!” Everyone roared in unison.
“It was heavenly!”
“Maar daala (you killed us) Shan!”
Then someone called out; “Dude! The only thing missing was the kiss!”
“Yeeesssss! … Kiss her now…Right now!” A chant started.
Khanak’s cheeks were set aflame when Shan chuckled softly and hugged her tighter. She was thankful he didn’t comply to the crowd’s request.
“Shut up you guys! That is not what I’m talking about!” Tash wailed. She was almost foaming at the mouth as she witnessed the blatant display of affection.
“The ring Tash…her ring!” Trish’s voice urged.
“Show me your hand!” Tash demanded of Khanak and when she wavered she yanked it forcibly.
There was no question that the lovely ring mounted with the exquisite butterfly arrested in mid-flight was made of real diamonds just as Trish told her.
Khanak tried to retract her hand but Tash’s grip was firm.“This doesn’t look like a cheap trinket by any long shot. Who gave it to you?”
“I did.” Shan said.
“What?” Tash stared at him.
“Yes, you heard right Tash.” Shan asserted firmly while smiling reassuringly at Khanak. “I slipped it on her finger a few days ago when I felt the moment was right and this lovely girl was sweet enough to accept my proposal. We are engaged to be married.”
“I don’t believe it! It’s…it’s ridiculous!” Tash screamed, her face growing white as a sheet.
“You’d better cause it’s the truth;” Shan retorted viciously feeling no sympathy for the woman who at one time he had considered a close friend.
But Tash wasn’t one to be easily dissuaded. She had an agenda and this was the perfect platform.
“Then what is this?” She lifted up her left hand displaying a plain silver band. It was not as lavish or ornate as the one on Khanak’s finger but a ring nevertheless.
“What about it?” Shan continued to stick to his guns.
“Have you forgotten already?” Tash sashayed forward with a coy smile, “Then let me titillate your memory. This, is the same ring you slipped on my finger a couple of months ago. Can you deny it? If so I have plenty of witnesses.”
Shan grew wary as he saw a skeptical gleam in Khanak’s eyes. He was aware that he was treading on dangerous ground but he couldn’t deny the truth; “Yes I did but…”
“There you go!” Tash laughed in triumph looking at the audience who were lapping up everything hungrily. “Now…how can a guy be engaged to two girls at the same time? Not only is that illegal but it’s freaking preposterous!”
“What’s going on?” Khanak exclaimed wrenching herself from Shan’s embrace as he addressed her rival. “Tash…You know very well that was nothing but a joke!”
“A joke? Of course not.” Tash then turned and snarled at Khanak. “This is a joke!” She threw her arms around a startled Shan. “Darling! I know how you love taking people for a ride but this is very cruel! You shouldn’t have fooled a poor innocent girl just to make me green with envy and only because I was away from you for some time. Promise me you won’t do it again.”
“This is utter nonsense! You are making it all up! Khanak I can explain!” Shan blurted out looking anxiously at Khanak while trying at the same time to disengage himself from Tash. But she wasn’t letting him go.
Khanak slunk away staring at both of them in shocked disbelief.
“It’s the truth darling,” Tash’s words mocked her stupidity. “How can Shan desire to be with a simpleton like you when he can have someone like me? Nothing could be more absurd!”
“Khanak please …Stop! Don’t listen to her! She’s lying!” Shan hollered reaching for her.
“NO! DON’T”
***
Khanak spun on her heels and bolted. The place had suddenly turned in to a suffocating dungeon. She could hardly breathe. She had to get out.
Pushing blindly through the crowd that had shifted their collective attention on to her—an object of amusement and ridicule. They were murmuring about her and laughing. It was unbearable.
“Khanak!” Someone called out.
She continued toward the big red exit sign. That was her only goal, her escape.
She stumbled in the dark and fell. Her knees stung. But the hurt inside was stronger. She couldn’t yield. Not yet.
She had to put the widest distance possible between herself and those who considered her easy prey.
Finally she surfaced. The air cleared but barely. Her chest still felt constricted.
She glanced around but couldn’t tell where she was. As if it mattered anymore. She laughed. She was all alone again, a homeless orphan.
She took a left defying instinct, nothing could be relied upon any more. She tried to pretend to be invisible but it was impossible—her attire, her gender made her shine like a beacon.
She saw men gawking at her like hungry wolves. She cringed with fear.
But she couldn’t stop.. She needed to keep moving or they’d catch and maul her…if not them then someone else would, the ones she was running from … they’d trap her again in their cleverly spun web of deceit.
Scenes replayed in her head as she hurried along at a brisk pace toward an unknown destination, intuitively dodging her way around on the sparsely populated streets.
Tarun’s uncouth assumptions, his cheap and vulgar insinuations. Her new acquaintances… with their smiling faces and friendly chatter…their huddled whispering in the corridors.
Someone deliberately bumped into her and grabbed at her behind. Swearing aloud she hit out fiercely at her attacker and connected.
She got a glimpse of her attacker’s stunned rough features before he turned about face and walked away.
Trish’s conflicting and confusing words. Tash’s loud derisive laughter…the loathing in her eyes. Diva’s aghast face…
Life for them is a big farce, a grand charade. They are on the stage all the time, playing a part, their true faces hidden behind masks. She had become a part of them–the unwitting player who had been asked to play herself. The accidental tourist.
And Shan…It was agony to even think of his name.
But she couldn’t erase his face from her mind. The harder she tried the brighter it got. The beautiful man she had fallen in love with. The wonderful soul who had urged her to dream big…helped her believe in herself.
Those warm brown eyes in which she’d dared envision a glimmer of affection, of hope…
She came to an abrupt stop. It had started to drizzle. She began to shudder uncontrollably. Tears finally flowed unchecked. I’ve never felt this alone before!
She was standing in what looked very much like a spotlight and felt forced to look up.
The hoarding was brand new. It’s lettering obliterated by her tears and the rain. But what caught her attention was the partially shrouded face of the dancer. She could barely recognize herself.
