by Savi Sharma
First published by Westland Publications Private Limited in 2018
61, 2nd Floor, Silverline Building, Alapakkam Main Road, Maduravoyal, Chennai 600095
Westland and the Westland logo are the trademarks of Westland Publications Private Limited, or its affiliates.
Copyright © Savi Sharma, 2018
ISBN: 9789387894129
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organisations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Dedicated to:
YOU, ALWAYS
CONTENTS
START READING
PROLOGUE
1 MEERA
2 VIVAAN
3 KABIR
4 VIVAAN
5 VIVAAN
6 FATE
7 MEERA
8 VIVAAN
9 MEERA
10 NISHA
11 FATE
12 KABIR
13 VIVAAN
14 VIVAAN
15 FATE
16 MEERA
17 KABIR
18 MEERA
19 VIVAAN
20 FATE
21 NISHA
22 MEERA
23 FATE
24 VIVAAN
25 KABIR
26 MEERA
27 FATE
28 MEERA
29 VIVAAN
30 KABIR
31 MEERA
EPILOGUE FATE
THANK YOU
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
AUTHOR BIO
‘The story of life can be summarised in a few short words. It is never-ending. No matter what you are going through, no matter how difficult the journey is, no matter how fate tests us, life never stops; it endures.’
PROLOGUE
Just because one turns to the final page, the final word of a book, it doesn’t mean the story is complete. ‘The End’ is only a hopeful thought. Enjoy the satisfaction while you can, because change is inevitable.
There is no happily ever after. When that book closes, do you think that the characters just dance away to some sunny meadow with music and birdsong?
I am here to tell you that life is a constant test. People who haven’t realised that are fools.
Those tests, those trials never end. I know that this is true; in fact, I can promise you that this is true.
How willing are you to persevere? Will you fight for that next bit of happiness, that next patch of sunlight after a gloomy day?
Or are you going to fail? Are you going to run away from the challenge, throwing your hands up in defeat?
One of the most powerful forces in the world is hope. Hope finds its way into the darkest rooms, sneaking its fingers around any blockades. No matter what is going on in your life, hope is a constant factor. Persistent and tenacious, it lifts people up and gives them a reason to dream.
If hope is suddenly removed, tossed away like a discarded tissue, there is little left. Without the cloak of hope, people buckle under the pressures that they face every day.
That is not necessarily a bad thing, in my opinion. What people don’t get is that it is not your circumstances that control your life, but you.
Conflict is put on your path to determine how far you will go to succeed. Our lives are supposed be difficult, because if they were too easy, what would we learn? Nothing. People need to be tested to see how willing they are to fight.
And how soon you will give up.
Perhaps some people who pass those tests will receive tremendous rewards. Everybody gets knocked over by life, but a strong person gets up and walks once more.
But for those who do not pass the challenge, regret and sadness will dog them for a very, very long time. They will be surrounded by oppressive, shadowy doubts.
It’s easy to make an excuse. It’s harder to act to regain control of your life. Perhaps it doesn’t matter, though. We may impact the people around us, but we are barely a drop of water in all the oceans.
The unknown is not a bad thing. Not seeing where your life is going to end up keeps you on your toes, looking to see what’s around the next bend.
On the surface, it appears simplistic. But it’s not.
These tests determine who will realise their dreams . . . and who will be nagged by regret and doubt for the rest of their lives.
Will you stand and fight? Will you tackle your challenges aggressively? Will you lie and cheat? Or will you push through, rising to the challenge with optimism and determination?
Or will you give up?
Because life is not about being happy all the time. Things happen. People get sick; couples grow apart and break up. For those who think a happy ending is the end, think again. There is always another page, another chapter. That happy ending is only a happy pause in life.
There is always more to the story.
How do I know what I’m talking about? Who am I?
I am the darkest shades of black and the lightest shades of white.
I am life’s trials.
I am fate.
And I am here to test your favourite characters, your beloved friends, the people who gave you hope and courage. The people who made you believe in your dreams. I am here to test Meera, Vivaan, Kabir, Nisha, and many others. I am here to destroy them, and I will. Just wait and watch.
Are you ready? Or are you scared?
1
MEERA
The slanting shadows in the room drew a stark finger across the coffee table, signalling the now sunny day outside. The morning had started off a bit dreary, with rain threatening to fall, but there never was any precipitation. Finally, the clouds surrendered, giving way to strong, afternoon sunshine.
Lifting my face to the late-day sun, I closed my eyes, living my memories behind shut eyelids. Drawing in a deep breath, I inhaled the warm satisfaction of a contented life. My shoulders lifted with the expanse of air in my lungs, and then lowered as I exhaled with a small purr.
Eyes still closed, I rolled my head slowly. It felt so good to stretch my muscles after sitting at my desk for so many hours.
Although my days are busy, writing in my journal seems to prompt other memories, not just the ones I’m writing down. Today, I savoured some of those memories, looking back at the last three years. They have been amazing years. Not only did I have Vivaan in my life, but I realised my dream of becoming a writer, with two successful books so far and a third being written.
Every day is a new source of excitement for me. Everyone has a story, it’s true, and I loved the one that was being written about my life.
Slowly, I turned my face back towards my mahogany desk. Finally, I allowed my eyelids to lift, first peeking through my eyelashes and refocusing as they opened more.
A smile played on my lips as I reread the journal entry in front of me. I knew my lips were moving slightly as the words played through my mind. Vivaan teased me when I did this, but it was how I best saw the world on the pages in front of me.
I picked up my pen. Heavy, but beautifully balanced, the pen was a gift, a show of support for my career, and I loved feeling its weight as I wrote.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
‘Yes?’ I responded lazily.
‘Meera?’ a young woman’s voice called through the heavy door. ‘The man from the magazine is here for your interview.’
‘Ah, yes,’ I returned, smiling. I tucked my pen between the pages and closed my beloved diary. A glance at the clock confirmed th
at he was right on time. ‘Can you please show him in?’
I stood, my bare toes sinking into the thick grey carpeting before I slipped my shoes back on. I glanced down quickly to make sure no stray crumbs from breakfast were clinging to my shirt. There were none. Casual, presentable. Perfect. I murmured a command to my music player and the volume turned down immediately. I loved that device.
The door swung open and a slightly heavyset man sauntered in, eyes dancing over the sharp lines in the room, the happy pictures on the walls. I waited patiently. When he finished his appraisal, with a grin, I reached out my hand to shake his.
‘Hi, I’m Meera,’ I said warmly. ‘Welcome to my home.’
He took my hand, pumping it firmly. I prided myself on having a firm handshake, but quickly adjusted my grip to apply an even more steady, firm grasp.
‘Sai Patel,’ he replied. ‘Thank you for allowing me to interview you.’
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘It’s my pleasure.’ I looked over the man’s shoulder where my assistant, Aashi, was standing patiently. Although young, in her early twenties, Aashi was determined to prove her worth despite the fact that she was inexperienced and a recent college dropout. In my mind, I knew that, with a little patient guidance, the young woman’s interests in her education would be rekindled.
Aashi cocked her head slightly, hands clasped in front of her. ‘Would you like me to bring in some refreshments?’
I turn a questioning look at Sai, who nodded eagerly. ‘I am a little . . . thirsty,’ he said somewhat sheepishly.
‘Aashi,’ I said, ‘would you mind bringing in two cappuccinos?’ I couldn’t help but tease, drawing out the idea of more refreshments a little before I continued. ‘And perhaps some of the butter cookies I baked yesterday?’
Sai cleared his throat happily. ‘You bake too?’ he asked, plopping down into the soft brown leather chair in front of my desk.
I nodded and settled myself back into the black desk chair. ‘I don’t get much time in the kitchen, I’m afraid,’ I admitted. It was true. I’ll never be the culinary artists that my friend Kabir and his wife Nisha are, but I do love to bake. ‘Though when I do, I find it clears my head and breaks up the monotony of a long day at the desk. This is one of my grandmother’s recipes, so I hope you’ll enjoy the biscuits.’
‘I’m sure I will.’ Seemingly contented knowing that food was on its way, Sai began to rustle through his beaten-up satchel before bringing out a small recorder.
‘Do you mind?’ he asked. Of course, I shook my head, agreeing to his request. Recording my words protects me as much as it protects him. This way, I can’t be misquoted. ‘First,’ he said, almost as an afterthought, ‘I must congratulate you on the success of your first two books.’
‘Have you read them, then?’
He blushed and nodded happily. ‘Most definitely. It’s why I begged my editor for this assignment. I really wanted to meet the woman behind this great success. You’d have to live under a rock not to have heard of both your books.’
I smiled. ‘That is kind,’ I said. It always made me feel humble when I heard praise like this. ‘I’m glad that it has been an inspiration for some. And I hope the third book will offer as much encouragement as my previous two books.’
Sai nodded and turned his attention back to the recorder, fumbling with the switch. Finally, he placed it on the glass table in front of him. Then, he fished around in his satchel and pulled out a small notebook and pen.
I must have shifted in my seat because his eyes snapped back to full attention on me. ‘How are you after the accident?’
‘I am much, much better. Really, completely healed. Thank you for asking.’
Flipping his notebook open to a fresh page, he absently rolled his pen between his fingers before continuing. ‘So, tell me. You truly brought your characters to life in the first book, perhaps because they are based on real people?’
I nodded. ‘I believe that this is part of the magic, yes. But it’s not necessarily the people themselves—although, of course, they are my friends. I think it was their journeys that made the book so special. And the journeys were the inspiration.’
‘Tell me more about the inspiration,’ he pressed.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Sometimes,’ I began, ‘we move through life, seemingly unaware of what is going on around us. We go to work, we come home, we make a meal. We’re living, but we’re not really absorbing life.
‘While these things are important, they are only one layer. Sort of like a sketch before it becomes a beautiful painting. Living life to the fullest is about painting in the yellows of the laughter, the blues of the bird songs we hear, the reds of the sadness that pulls us down at times. And the purples as we spring back up, pushing past the darkness and striding with a purpose toward the good times.’
‘And your book certainly does show this,’ he said. ‘What is writing a book like? For you?’
I smiled. ‘Writing a book is . . . going on an amazing journey. You might have some idea of where you are heading, but you have no idea how the landmarks and events on the way will impact you.’
‘Is it daunting to decide to write an entire book?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘The words, like a sand castle, start to build around me until they create a great fortress from the tiniest letters.’
As he spoke, Aashi nudged her way past the half-closed office door with a tray of beverages and cookies. Sai’s fingers danced eagerly in the air as she placed the tray on the table between us, then happily snatched a biscuit as soon as she stepped back.
Aashi quietly placed my cappuccino in front of me, met my eye and raised an elegantly arched eyebrow in a silent question. ‘I think we are all set, for now, Aashi,’ I responded to her non-question. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘Of course,’ Aashi said, then glided across the room and closed the door behind her softly.
‘So,’ Sai continued. ‘Tell me about how people have reacted to your books.’
I stood up and walked around my desk and piled three cookies in the palm of my left hand. If I didn’t pounce on them now, I was afraid I wouldn’t get the chance. Leaning casually against my desk, I responded.
‘It has been amazing. Of course, when I started to write, it was with the hope that people would be open to my stories. I remember walking down a street one time, and there were a group of school kids, maybe in their mid-teens, I’m guessing. They were all bunched together, talking and having fun. I wouldn’t have paid much attention, but as I walked by, I happened to glance at one of the kids. When he thought nobody was paying attention to him, he let that mask of the ‘cool kid’ fade away. I saw something on his face—pain, sadness, I don’t know for sure. It was only there for a moment and then the smile came back, and he went back to laughing with his friends.
‘I thought to myself, “There is a story in each and every one of us.” It’s not the façade that we put on when we are around our friends, our co-workers, or our family. It’s what is in our hearts. It’s our hopes, our dreams, our fears . . .’
Sai munched thoughtfully on a cookie and nodded. ‘I can see what you’re saying, Meera. There are times when I interview people for an hour and walk out knowing that there is more to learn about them.’
‘Exactly. And I think that these stories are important for us all to learn.’
‘Why?’
‘Because as much as we think we are individuals, we are influenced by so many different forces. We are not only formed by our experiences, but also by the people that have helped guide us, and sometimes, challenge us. Push us to be more than we are.’
As I spoke, I could feel an urgent energy rising up in me, effervescing.
‘My books, my success so far, I believe is because I have been able to lasso these emotions and put words to them in a way that people can relate to the characters. They can see the people in my books, just as clearly as I can see you looking at the pile of cookies on the plate.’
Sai
tore his eyes from the plate of food and looked at me once again, breaking into a grin. ‘You caught me,’ he laughed.
I joined in his laughter. ‘I am glad you are enjoying them.’
‘Oh, I am,’ he said, patting his belly before going back to our conversation. ‘You certainly have caught those emotions, much to the delight of your readers. Your books have certainly become an inspiration to many people.’
I said sincerely, ‘I certainly hope so. My intent has always been to give my readers something to think about as they are navigating through their own lives. I want to inspire, to evoke a sense of drive in people. We all have the opportunity to improve our lives, every single day. We shouldn’t sit idle and let life happen. We need to make it happen!’
I watched a little shiver ripple through Sai and I knew that he was not just hearing my words, but actually feeling them. He sat silently for a moment, as though he was thinking intently about something. Then, with a little shake, he smiled at me and returned to the interview. ‘What can you tell me about this new book, then?’
‘Not much, I’m afraid. I still need to finalise things with my publishers before we release too many details.’
‘Just a hint?’ he asked, leaning forward.
I knew he would ask, just as I knew it would be okay to give him a little taste of what was to come. ‘It’s about a starmaker,’ I said.
I couldn’t help it; I wanted to see the approval on his face. I still needed to know that this was a good idea. My publishers had liked the storyline, but they had a different agenda from my reader. My readers wanted to be inspired.
At the blank look on Sai’s face, I knew I needed to give more information.
‘Not like some fantasy,’ I explained. ‘This starmaker helps people achieve their dreams and become successful.’
I explained a little more, then trailed off as I watched him scribbling intently in his notebook. I gazed out of the window at the sky, relishing the warmth of the sun. I knew, the clouds would skate in from beyond the horizon soon.
He cleared his throat. ‘Is the publishing deal finalised?’