Prolouge

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Where there is Light, there will be Darkness too...

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Ashoka often had this thought.

'Am I destined for failure?'

This young man full of potential had yet to reach his thirties. He didn't always have this belief in mind while he was growing up. There was a time when he had ambitious goals and grand dreams like anyone else.

For example, one such instance was the day when he got his master's degree while graduating as a gold medalist from a praised National Institute.

During his childhood, Ashoka believed that his future held great success, honor, and fame, just like his inspirational figures APJ Abdul Kalam, Vishveshwarahia, and many more.

However, He was too late to realize his reality.

The fate of Ashoka has sealed the movement he was born into a poor family.

His mother left the world when he was very young leaving him all alone in this dangerous world.

And his drunkard father only made his life harder.

Even three meals a day was a luxury for him, he was just thankful that he didn't have any siblings because if he did, he probably would have to share even the one-time meal that he would get.

But despite all that suffering, Ashoka believed that if he studies well, and works hard enough, one day he would be able to live a different life.

A life where he could eat a stomach full, sleep on a comfortable bed, and wear clean and nice clothes.

Just that was what he wished for.

But....!

He was questioning whether he had been delusional all this time.

"Was that too much...? Did I wish for something grand?"

He wondered if he was destined to die like a poor dog.

'....Was wishing to wear some clean and nice clothes too much?'

He wondered if dreaming was a sin for the likes of him.

'....Was dreaming of sleeping on a comfortable bed a greedy wish?'

He was questioning if yearning for comfort was a crime.

'....Was dreaming of marrying a beautiful woman a sin?'

He pondered if wanting to feel pleasure was an offense.

He didn't know anymore.

"They say, money can't buy happiness"

Ashoka muttered as he lifelessly looked up at the hanging rope.

"What an utter bullsh*t!!"

The only ones who could say something like that were those that had money,

Then what about those who didn't have any money?

Yeah, Sure! you can't buy happiness with money, but what can you buy without it?

NOTHING!

Without money, you can have nothing!

And that was the harsh truth that had driven Ashoka into the position he was in now.

Even though he had a master's Degree...

Even though he had many gold medals...

Even though he had tried his best and even though he had worked harder than everyone around him…

Even though he had endured his drunkard father for 20 long years…

And even though he had more than enough reasons to kill the same father...

The society refused to listen to him.

The law judged him to death.

Maybe the situation would have been different if he had money, the justice was always like that.

'Right! It was money all along.'

He thought while smiling hopelessly.

He was too late to realize that the opposite of Poor was never wealth but Justice.

But even then, one question remained in the head of Ashoka.

"Why me?"

He questioned looking up at the clear sky.

He didn't know if the god existed, but at this time he wanted to ask that question.

"Why the hell do I have to be the one to bear all the sufferings? why not others?"

Was it wrong of him to ask that question..?

Maybe, but one thing was for sure.

'Even now, inches away from death, I don't regret anything I did.'

If anything, He was proud of what he did and it was only resentment that was left in his heart not regret.

And that Resentment was not toward any human but towards the god that he didn't even know if exists or not.

'I don't know what or why...'

A smile appeared on Ashoka's face, whether it was a smile due to happiness or a sarcastic one laughing at himself, he didn't know.

"If I have another life, make sure that my family is filthy rich you f**king god"

Ashoka screamed and gave his head to the noose.

At his impending death, all that he thought of was the blurred face of the woman who gave birth to him.

He thought as he felt the cold sensation of the hanging rope pressing his neck.

'Maybe it would have been different if she was alive.'

That was the last thought he had before he took his last breath.

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