Gaurav the writer#

A father’s advocacy to protect and patronize his child caused envy to me as I didn't had the luxury of being favorite and assertive. Life would have been different if only they would have listened to us. Crying over spilt milk is stupidity but I wish I had few good memories to share with my child and friends. Memories are like an old chest to cherish all your belongings. For few its spread smiles on their faces while few still searches each corners to find something memorable. Today I have also opened the old chest in search of some good memories and I am still searching them. May be some of you could help me to find a good one to make an ordinary day special.

No, no, no, no.……..not again but the fury of Saturn once again ogled me. I cursed the celestial moment I was born. Somewhere the wicked smile of god Saturn seems echoing in my ears. The victorious whispers of mockery and smirks seems visible everywhere. Once again I got duped. I wish I should learn from the past but making the same stupidity is insane. The toil was a sheer waste of time and effort. The pain of losing my labor was more; I wish I should take revenge from the ill wish of mighty.

Reclined on a couch near sea shore and reading news paper on Sunday morning; nothing else seems so glorious and heavenly. A brittle voice of my wife seems echoing from a very distant place. At first I pretend unnoticing it, the next vary moment the furious face of my wife appeared in my thought and I relinquish the idea of enjoying my solitude; however I could not stop myself procrastinating and prolonging the recess. I get down from the couch and approached to the cottage, the fray between my wife and my daughter was over leaving the two slap marks on my daughter’s fair cheeks. My appearance assured her safety, she rushed to me crying and calling PAPA-PAPA. She clanged to my leg. I lifted her in lap and wiped her tears though my wife was still scolding her with the warning note of not repeating the same mistake. I intervened and warded-off her from further clash; now the conflict was between me and my wife. After a little while the dialogue converted in monologue and more over p

The assurance to stand by was so secure and vivid that I almost believed it blindly. But with each passing days my expectation and assurance seems fragile. People’s inspiration turned to their eye sore. Life seems stuck in a mirage, running every possible direction but ending up where I started. The last hope was also gone. Setting out was the only possible way to remain enjoying pride despite losing it. To be continued……………………………