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Viraha

Maya Shekhawat ~ A devious beauty. A name that perfectly suits her persona, an illusional beauty. Writing stories may not be her forte but still, her work is read by most of the fantasy readers. A veteran officer in the Indian Army, but still dubious of the world she is writing on her own. Aprajaya Suryavanshi ~ The imaginative king of Maya's story, king of Aryavart (Indian subcontinent). A man who lives up to his name, Undefeatable. He is the main protagonist of Maya's story, but the main problem is, that he didn't know that he is an imaginative character. Maybe Maya also doesn't know that her character is not just a character, but a real person, her story is not just a story but a real world. The author is sucked up in her own book, but wait, why events are not going as she had written in the book? A guilt-stricken Aprajaya who had lost his love due to his stupidity is now happy to have her back again, but at what cost? She doesn't remember him. Viraha~ The realization of love through separation. This story is my original work, I'm inspired by some other similar time-travel stories, but this plot is totally different from those. So, please refrain from reporting this story or consult me if you have any feedback regarding the plot.

navupathania · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
7 Chs

Feels half-painted

'Taking his own defeat he hugged his life, for the last time he saw down at her but this time with confirmation of love and fragments of regret.'I pen down the ending of my yet another sequel of 'Pleasure of Pain' a brief story about an imaginative Indian king who lived up to his name- Aprajaya Suryavanshi. A man who never tasted defeat in his whole life. King of Aryavart ruled the Akhand Bharat.I made this story on a whim, and to tell you the truth my subconscious was bugging me to pen this story down, and being greedy as I am, I refused to let go of such a historical plot. Although it's a story where the male protagonist was a jackass bastard, I still want to turn the course into a green character.This was the first time I was writing a morally grey character, and it was fun throughout.My thoughts came to a halt when my phone buzzed. My attention went momentarily to the incoming call as I tried to fathom why this person calling me at midnight?"Hello?" I picked it up anyway."Mam, there is an emergency you are needed in the headquarters right now." Madhav's shrieking voice made its way to my ear."I'm not in Delhi, it will at least take me a day to reach there." I calmly explained."Where are you right now, your location? I need it!!" he seemed desperate."Meghalaya, roaming in my most favorite weather." I huffed and got up. My waist was cranked from sitting so long, but still, I made my way to the ceiling to ground ground-length window and gazed at the droplets covering the whole thing.My gaze fixed on the specific drop which made its way down and disappeared into the course of another drop. There is something in the rain that seems to soothe my mind and control my heartbeat.Even if this rain had made so many attempts to kill me."Can you fly to Pathankot from there?" his desperate sound made me snap into reality."No, I can't. The bad condition of weather had made all flights go suspended till tomorrow" My fingers grazed the window slowly. The red hue on my fingers made me frown."We need your help, Maya. You cannot neglect the work you had." He tried to scold me lightly."What about it?" I made my way to my desk again and opened the other ventilation I had in the room to make the breathing more bearable."It's about Raza Abdul. We-"You guys had lost contact over him and now he is missing, right?" A yawn escaped from my mouth and I made a mental note to sleep my ass off till tomorrow noon."How do you know?" came his reply after a huge leap.My gaze momentarily fell on the ground, the painting of blood with a man lying over it seemed too appealing right now.The only thing that is bothering me is the stench of blood which is making me claustrophobic. But I think I got another prompt for my next story.'I looked down on the blood pool as the guy's eyes screamed nothing but death, as in literal meaning. Because the blood in my hand matched with the blood in which he was lying.' Pretty cool.I only write those stories which are somehow related to the reality that no one knows. Like this one, a man is dead in my hotel room and no one knows, maybe if I pen this down on a blank sheet it will make a bestseller.Because real stories have more emotions than fictional."Maya, what did you do now?" he gulped audibly.Although I didn't want to laugh but still, I did on such a stupid question."What do you think?""...""Oh, come on Madhav you are such an old colleague of mine you should have predicted it already." I mocked the poor guy."You killed him?" his unsure voice made me giggle."No shit, Sherlock.""Now, what are we going to do now? How will you get out from there? What would we answer the government?" I didn't like the way he was being over frantic."Madhav you are wasting my time, I'm Maya Shekhawat a veteran officer of the Indian army. Do you think I killed him on a whim?""Yes, you did."Yet, he managed to squeeze another laugh from my throat. He knew way too much about me, didn't he?"Now, let's not waste my time anymore I had a lot of work to do." He groaned and hung up the call. I'm quite unsure how he is still not dead with such a quirky attitude he had. He is lucky that he is my friend, not an enemy.My sight again fell on the funny painting on the ground.He seems like a lizard that got splashed with the slippers. My mouth couldn't contain the laugh and I laughed, laughed again and again.A knock made my laugh stop and I non-hurriedly got up and reached the door to open it. There stood my good friend who had his eyes narrowed at me."What you did now?" he interrogated."Nothing much was just writing but a lizard decided to interrupt me and you know I'm not fond of lizards, now it has become a big mess, and need someone's help to clean it." I chuckled."You are unbelievable." He huffed and made his way in.I closed the door behind me and took a few steps in. The only thing I noticed was the tense back of my partner-in-crime. His shoulder was stiff and I could imagine his fear-stricken face."This lizard is big." He rubbed his hands in anticipation for help. Like I would let him go out now."Yes, why do you think I called you here? How can a meek girl like me could have disposed of such an atrocious lizard?" I lowered my voice purposely and he looked at him like he had seen a ghost."I beg to differ. You are anything but a meek girl." His face scrunched in a scowl and I found it funny so I laughed."Now hurry up, we can't raise suspicion." I poked his waist quite harshly which made him wince."I'm not your servant, lady." He shouted.My eyelids lifted as I gave him the best of my best glare. I saw a sudden shift in his demeanor. His puffed chest instantly went to its original position and so did his shoulders. His pale complexion was now red. Maybe he is angry or embarrassed?"Get to the work," I stated calmly.He immediately squatted down and started wrapping the body in a plastic wrap and without any effort he picked the body up."I will send someone to clean this mess, till then have some patience." He scurried away almost immediately making me chuckle behind.Soon, a group of black-masked people came in and mopped the floor clean like nothing was there. Impressive.It was already past midnight, and I was still deprived of sleep. Let's write the sequel of my ongoing book.I sat down on the desk with another blank paper and started writing. The plot starts weaving in my mind like I have experienced everything on my own. The pictures are vivid and I couldn't fathom if it's just a fragment of my dream or imagination.I was writing this story like someone was narrating it to me. It was odd that I completed this story in just 2 weeks, otherwise, it take me at least a year to complete one. And now, I'm again ready for the next part.The thirst for historical fiction didn't seem to be quenched but one thing I was sure of, my subconscious had a great part in making this story.Sometimes I find similar prompts in history books that I have never read before but still, I write them down. At first, I thought it was a coincidence, but now I don't think so.I can't pinpoint the reason. Whenever I'm writing the part of Maharani Maya Suryavanshi, I feel a vague pain in my heart. I thought it was only because that we share the same name, but it's not the first time I was using my name in my own story.But this feels different. Feels half-painted. Feels pain.The vagueness had come such far that I thought whatever I was writing had happened for real. Seems stupid right? I also thought, but the people roaming in my mind say otherwise.Whenever I'm writing or reading something the characters have blurred or vivid faces except for the time when something about their body is mentioned. But the characters of my story had a proper image in my mind, every detail of face, place, and incident. It's not vague, it's not false.But who am I kidding, a fiction can't be real.The thunder struck outside which made my heart go all giddy. Momentarily I forgot that I was doing something. My steps automatically went toward the window.The dimly lighted room made the outside much clearer. The heavy rain poured on the window as it made a rhythmic drum beat.I closed my eyes in anticipation that I will surely defeat my ongoing whim, but you know, you can't go against the universe, especially when it already weaved a plan to fuck you up.