Angre was puzzled.It was not usual for Ishani to use polite words or tone with him. He was ready to bet that she saved him as parasite.She’d probably block him but he was the science group leader. Any information from the lecturers was communicated through him and as much as she lived a care free life, she did mind her studies.However, she did not hide the fact that she resented Angre and all other scholarship students. That was why, when she sounded polite over the call, Angre felt something was amiss.
Ishani sat at her desk weeping uncontrollably. She was never one to cry, especially when she had an image to uphold.But it did not matter anymore. She was still human. She opened her diary, pen in hand,and wrote out her heart. Dear diary, I look at myself, I don’t like what I see. This is an imposter … this is not me. This is what the world wants. Don’t judge me, Iam innocent. Painfully, I write my epitaph; for Iam a walking corpse. My phone; with plenty of apps to offer.Social media was best to me. At least for a days’ rest, i wouldn’t upload my status. I was sure it was complicated. I uploaded selfies of myself, for a few likes,and a number of comments.Then came the endless voices; you are too light get a tan.Nah, too fat maybe a work out.Thus, blindly, I transformed.Just for a beautiful comment. Look at me now,an imposter of myself. Scrolling down my phone, I met Aryan. On all platforms, we chatted. on social media, we shared.It was so captivating. I couldn’t break from this internet bond. The bond to my grave… the bond to my epitaph. the phone was now my friend. aryan, my perfect study patner.the forbidden we shared. now, Iam a celebrity… on all platforms. a celebrity of shame.Aryan, the viper exposed me. have been quiet… I am now tired; of being caged with this shame. so, i speak out. sadly, on pen and paper. before i go, my parting wish, don’t cry… for me… Ishani drank a bottle full of gladiator poison and waited for the transition to take place.
She woke up several hours later feeling slightly weak, multiple tubes attached to her body. “Ishani” she heard Angre’s voice callout. Angre? what’s all this?She inquired.”look Ishani, it’s ok if you don’t want me here. just give me your relatives’ contacts so that i can inform them of your condition.” Angre replied. ‘How did you know..? “” you sounded odd over the call. when came to pick the report, you neither picked my calls nor opened the door”. Angre answered, cutting her short. “I wanted to die.. why did you save me yet I’ve always frustrated your work? ” she asked. “There is some good in every individual Ishani. Why should it be lost just because of a few short comimgs?” Angre asked in reply. This made the situation aWkward and Angre left with an excuse. Alone in the room, Ishani looked for anything she could use to take her life. By chance, she saw her diary partly concealed with angre’s jacket.she reached for it and was surprised to find a note inside. it read: Dear ishani, to fulfill divine purpose, you have to answer when you are called. Don’t be afraid to face the world against all odds. who holds the pieces to complete a person? The key to unlock your understanding? It’s all inside you.You have the potential, when all is taken, you may be grounded, but you are not tied. you can still fly. Angre. Ishani was touched. Here was someone who knew her true colours, the viper in her, yet he didn’t condemn her. She realized she didn’t owe her lifestyle to anyone. she had to be someone she knew. Someone who was her. When she got out of hospital, she made peace with everyone. She started an organisation to educate children and young adults to be internet smart. Her relationship with Angre improved and they were now good friends. She preserved the note from him.Ihe note that made her get up, live again and change her epitaph.
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