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Hello lovely people…….I’m back with another one……do tell your opinion.Enjoy……

Finally! After 12 long years I’m going to meet my father. I doubt if I should call him that. Well biologically he is. But for me he is………….I find it difficult to find words to describe him. He told to my face that I was the biggest mistake that happened to him. Marrying my mom was his second. I was only eight. Though time passed by, the memory is still fresh in my mind.


He was drunk that night. He must have gulped down 7 or 8 pegs and was clearly not in his senses. That night the man whom I admired, loved and looked up to became a devil, a monster in my mind. He confessed being in an extra-marital affair. My mom who had come to hold him and lead him to the bedroom froze on her tracks. We exchanged a nervous glance and searched his eyes for the playful glimmer we expected. But finding none, mom pressed him to repeat those vile words to ensure if she had heard him wrong. And he spilled out his beans! He confessed marrying my mom only for money. He was in affair with a lady named Piyali. The only woman he ever loved (other than his relatives). He even has a daughter in that relationship. To say we were shocked would be wrong. Anyway that was the last straw. Mom stressed on the meaningless of being in a relationship without trust.

She picked me up and left the place hastily. All our relatives shut the door on our face. Finally she turned for solace to my grandparents (maternal). Gladly they took us in. Mom brought me up single handedly. She imbibed in me good culture.

Since my parents were divorced I did not know what to write in “Father’s Name:” column in the personal memoranda of my school diary. I did not know what answer I should give to the question “What is your father’s name?” The humiliation I suffered when I joined another school cannot be explained. Teachers and my classmates used to taunt me by asking “How can a child be born without a father?” They were indirectly pointing to my mom’s womanhood. Though my blood boiled listening to them I couldn’t do anything. These words only fueled my grudge against that man. But my mom soothed me saying ill thoughts will destroy me. That helped me not to care about it. I didn’t want to be destroyed before proving my worth. If I wanted I could have said that “I’m Samrat Khanna’s daughter.” But I didn’t want that man’s name tagging along with mine. I wanted an identity of my own. All these taunts strengthened my determination. As if given a chance to start anew, my mom got job in Google in America. I was ready to face the new world. Though the words “what if? “still remained in the corner of my heart, mom’s reassuring hug warded away my worries.


We started our life anew in America. I was happy that the questions that used to pour down on me no longer existed. Since I was a bright student I was offered double promotions. I never stopped working even during vacations. In America if one wanted one could study his next year’s portions during the vacations and then go on to its next level when the school re-opened. The students could choose what interested them among the given choices. Since I had an eager interest in fashion designing and also entrepreneurship I chose those options. America sets no limits and its educational system supports bright students. Asking all your doubts is encouraged. No one sneers at you for that unlike some teachers in India. I always had doubts. But my teachers in India made fun of me when I asked them any. It was when life once again became colorful that the inevitable happened. My mom passed away in a car accident. It was the carelessness of a drunken man that caused destruction. I once again felt the world around me crash. I had no one to hold me close and say:” I’m here for you.” Many came to express their condolences. I was fed up with their fake tears. After her I pulled more into myself and became an introvert. I didn’t feel the necessity to talk to anyone. I entered into depression. I started having nightmares.

It was then that I met Neil. He was more than a friend to me a brother. And I guess it was the same for him too. He came like an angel and set things right. His dimpled smile and hug ushered in me the much required strength to complete the journey to make an identity for myself. I had stopped it on midway after my mom’s death. I once again burned the midnight oil. Finally my hard work bared fruit. I made myself an identity. I Radhika Mala Mishra, became one of the famous fashion designer com entrepreneur. I signed contracts with famous directors for their movies. My company designed dresses for various occasion and also created an online site for the same. I hired many employees and let them work in a peaceful and happy environment. All of them are pleased with their job and working conditions. The catchwords I chose for the company was: “WHEN YOU WANT SOMETHING, ALLTHE UNIVERSE CONSPIRES YOU TO ACHIEVE IT.” Yes Paulo Coelho’s very words from “The Alchemist.” Like the boy in it I too chased my dreams.

Tomorrow is a very special day for me. Mr Samrat Khanna with his wife and daughter is coming to meet me for designs for his daughter Samaira Samrat Khanna, my half-sister. I want to see his face when he knows that it is me. I’m sure he would be shocked because I’m a Xerox copy of my mom. He had snorted when mom left with me saying that I no longer needed his name. I feel so contented and happy today because I proved my worth and showed to all those who said that I couldn’t do it that I did it. I, a girl fought alone in this world and made myself an identity without her father’s or mother’s name trailing her.

Rotten tomatoes and chappals are accepted. Please do tell me your sincere opinion of the above. I’m sorry for not updating the others. I’ll try to. But I’m not sure coz I have to manage my studies also.

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