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Your Name is Destiny, For Destiny is in Your Own Hands

“Our fate lives within us. You only have to be brave enough to see it.” – Brave
“Ma, see my appointment letter. They have appointed me as the customer care manager in the hotel. It’s all because of you ma.” Mrs Shekhawat was patiently listening to Niyati who was ranting about her interview details.
It was the same Niyati whom she had met fifteen years back in the village of Orissa where she was working as a social activist for the cause of poor and uneducated children. Mrs Shekhawat had very tough time in persuading her father to send her to the school established by her.
Little Niyati would often come to the school in her father’s absence. She knew what her father would do to her when he came to know about her escapades.
Once when Niyati did not come to school for many days, she went to her house to ask about her. Niyati’s father fought with her and asked her to go away. But she could not leave after she saw the sick and feeble Niyati. She almost looked half dead.

“Ma, ma! What are you thinking? Ma, I want to tell you something,” Mrs Shekhawat’s stream of thoughts was suddenly broken.

“Adi has proposed me Ma!” she paused for a while.
“That’s great Niyati. What did you say?” asked Mrs Shekhawat.

“I don’t know, ma. I don’t want to marry yet. Rather, I don’t want to marry ever.”

“Niyati, this could not be you. From when did you start saying no to life? You have always been a fighter. How can you say no when happiness is ready to embrace you? Past is dead and gone. You are the creator of your own destiny.”

“No, ma…it was all because of you.”
“No, Niyati. It was you. You yourself chose to come out of those miseries. Now, go ahead and embrace love and life with the same spirit. Create your own destiny now as you did then. Remember how you would come to the school despite the warnings of your father.”
The memory of that day was still fresh in her mind. Mrs Shekhawat had come to her house to ask for her. Her father had fought with her. Niyati gathered all her strength to go and meet her. For she knew, it was her last chance. She was barely able to walk after the cruelty of her father. Her father had come to know that she went to Mrs Shekhawat’s school in his absence. He had not only beaten her up with sticks but also forced himself upon her at night to teach her a lesson. Her mother had no courage to say anything in front of his father.
Niyati had clung to Mrs Shekhawat and cried her heart out. She told her about all her miseries and pleaded her to take her along.
Mrs Shekhawat paid five thousand rupees to her father and bought her freedom.

Your Name is Destiny, For Destiny is in Your Own Hands

This post is written as Day 3 entry for the Write Tribe Festival of Words June 2018.

#writebravely

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Diary of a murderer

I was driving in the rented black Honda city . The stretch was long, narrow and lonely. It was 3:00 am. I did not know where I was going or why for I had drunk rather heavily at night.
The rough road led the car jerk and I heard thumping from the back of the car.
I pulled up the car at a side thinking the tyre must have flat and decided to check.
The tyre was fine but the boot was open.
I opened and found a trunk inside.
Cut pieces of a human body…Blood dripping…
The effects of alcohol were gone…
I sat down and broke..
In a fit of anger, I had murdered her…

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This post is a written for Day 2 of the Write Tribe Festival of Words June 2018

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Blogs, Life style, Stories, Uncategorized, Write Tribe Festival 2018, Writer's Challenge

The Unmarried Father

“Sunny, think again. You have your whole life ahead. How will you take care of her? It is not that easy.”
“No, ma. I have made up my mind. I can’t leave her. I will manage on my own.”
“Sunny, you are not even married. You have no experience of bringing up a baby. You don’t even know who her parents are? Give it to some orphanage. They will take good care of her. What about Riya? Do you think her parents will let her marry you if you keep this baby with you?”
“Mom, whatever be the consequence, I will not leave her.”
Sunny had found a newborn baby girl in a garbage on a footpath while going to his office. The little baby was wrapped in a torn cloth and had ants sticking on her. She would have died had he not picked her up and brought her home.
We often talk about motherhood but isn’t fatherhood an equally strong bond?

This post is a part of Write Tribe Festival of June 2018.

#FlashFiction

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