Untitled Story – Chapter 3


Adyut Pathak was a natural goal setter. He willingly handled whatever tasks needed to be done if he was convinced that it would help him get what he wanted. He was a creature of rules and regulations that he had formed for himself over the years, their consistency providing the structure he needed to establish his own behavioral patterns. He believed that the end could always justify the means.

Currently, leaving India was the end. Everything else was the means. He got frustrated with the society… the Indian society in particular and its baseless norms and habits. He had no patience for the 100 people passing judgments on his life choices, way of life, hair style, and manner of dressing or the emphasis put on getting married and producing offspring in this already populated world, which frankly did not need any more people. It was a tiring circle of yes-es and no-s that he was trapped in. He felt ensnared and confined most of the time. But not-so-slowly and surely he was breaking all the barriers, shedding the good-boy image, and disappointing everyone around and quite liking it.

He had managed to become self-centered and insensitive, and the knowledge that he had mastered these traits did not bring him any shame or embarrassment, rather these traits empowered him. He hated himself. But he hated the social mentality more. And he no longer felt the need to hide his distaste. There were too many fish in his pond. And it was a pond that was full of scum and muck that he was raring to get out of… but did not know how, YET. Someday, he thought… Someday…

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Sameera Malik was stubborn to put it mildly. She stubbornly clung to her own ideas and habits and almost always failed to take advantage of the new ideas or situations because she couldn’t see its practical or logical use. Like she couldn’t see the practical or logical use of staying in India. Her last flame that lasted 3 months turned out to be the proverbial loser in aluminum foil as against the knight in shining armor. Quite like the other 10 tin men with no hearts that she had dated over the last 3 years. Frankly, she had not deeply cared for any one of them. They provided entertainment for a while and then the fun stopped and she moved on. Her fundamentals on dating were simple. There was only one good reason to stay with anyone – entertainment, laughter and crazy situations. Her need for change was high and she got bored easily. This was known first hand by all the 11 doused flames. Some had tried logical reasoning, others emotional blackmail, to keep the relation-ship afloat, yet others had showcased relief over the breakup and some had even initiated it. Sameera always felt a pinch in the latter two scenarios, not because she was disappointed that it hadn’t worked out but because she liked breaking hearts, and considered any dating enterprise a failure if that did not happen. But she had genuinely liked the last one and so when she broke up with him because he treated waiters like waste paper, she realized that 11 men and three years later, she was just plain fed up of men. She had proclaimed, quite vocally that she had given up on men. But when the job offer from New York came, she realized that she had only given up on Indian men. The global playing field was unchartered territory, full of potential and scope for a million mistakes and a hundred different types of crazy. The thought made her smile and hug herself in glee. She felt like a little girl about to go on an adventure right out of Enid Blyton’s novel. Soon, she thought… I’m almost there…

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to be continued…

 

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