That was the day Mukesh died for him forever. He was dug deep into the ground of sorrow, vexation, revenge and convalescence and then and there he promised himself to be something in this cruel world.
Mukesh left the room and switched his T.V. Rahul consoled his mother but those hidden tears were describing a thunder storm through her hazy eyes.
Mukesh’s slap on his beloved mother’s face broke their alias love. He lost his father that day. A woman who has rendered her complete self for that man and then one day he brickbats her.
Since their marriage, he hated her for reasons still unknown. Going to her maternal home was a dream to her and the biggest irony she was kept off from her father’s funeral.
Pity on that man who failed to realize the value of diamond which was kept adorned antecedent to him in a silver plate.
His routine smoking was killing them all bit by bit. His awry shouting and his indented silence was bringing them to a road from where choosing to go ahead or to turn back was a tough task.
He as a kid, had always seen his mother suffering and craving. Her only wish was to watch Rahul shining in his life but somehow Rahul failed in it.
Life had never been a smooth sailing for him. Constant failures kept on breaking him and then that time comes where positive quotes even from shiv khera does not help.
Those parents teacher meetings, those maths scores all left a trauma on his cerebrum.
He had not been successful for so long and now every competition of life scared him. Watching his friends going on stage and receiving trophies, seeing people of lesser capabilities than him achieving heights in all deteriorated him. A series of consecutive failures followed him.  That nervousness before the announcement of any result be it entrance or boards has found its scary place deep down his heart. Above that, that amenability of making his mother proud someday and making his father realize his potential seemed a far fetched dream then.
Life was never a bed if roses for him. Rahul was just like the other common guys of our country in search of love, fame and recognition. The only person he loved unconditionally in this harrowing world was her mother. He was now 18, which means he has to pursue his degree now after leaving his hometown and his mother in the dreadful hands of his father.
Life in a new city was not a cake walk for him. Meeting new people, coping up with them, engineering pressure and above that his “maa”  who always occupied a space in the back of his mind. In the world of “writer by choice” he wished to choose writing as his career but this stereotypical society failed to comprehend him. A society where medical and engineering are looked upon with eyes of desire.
One fine day after finishing his engineering classes and coming back to his room he opened his laptop and found a mail dropped in it.
A writing contest in which people will get a chance to work with 11 greatest writers of the country. He rolled up his sleeves and put his heart and soul in it but as Ill luck would have it, failure was a part and parcel of his life.
His dreams were shattered after that.
He considered himself useless.
He went to oblivion.
He was sleepless for days and restless for nights.
Dilemma between his passion and those fancy degrees.
This mind is a terrible place.
And then another day his dead body was found hanging in his hostel room.
Another maa lost his Rahul that day.
Another Rahul lost the battle that day.
It was the first thought that came to her as she woke up. He was gone, and soon, this bedroom, the house in whose eastern corner it sat, and the tiny garden outside with its gnarled old red hibiscus and the half grown mango tree they had planted together all those would be gone as well. It was the strangest feeling ever.


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