Part two. "How is my Bambolina doing?" A strange yet soft, very unique baritone of a person asked mildly from behind me. This voice was certainly new. I jumped not having seen another new stranger coming to me as I swirled around to face him. Although, even in the past few months since I had been brought here, I still could not come to fathom the exact meaning of the word 'Bambolina' which they all seemed to utter very nonchalantly at me. Was the language Italian or Spanish? And why exactly did they use so many endearments on me? I always ended up wondering at last. "How have you been feeling, little one?" His gentle voice startled me for no apparent reason. Perhaps because I had seen him for the first time here since I had been brought for quite a few months. Nevertheless, the first thing I noticed was the tallness of the person standing before me. He was tall, too tall, maybe over six-foot or even more, I couldn't tell, exactly. After, what astounded me the most were his e

Part two. The night was unusually cold and gloomy and so was I. It held an immense weight of distress with it. Just like the weather of the night, I felt nothing but gloomy and bothered. I was cold, trapped and felt claustrophobic too. Also, the wind wasn't even doing any better than the weather. It was chilling and bothersome making the already chilling weather seem glum and dark. The conversation with Shreyaanz uncle didn't do any good as well. It took me into questioning everything I had known about my parents since I could acknowledge my senses. The thoughts never seemed to stop skirting around my head regarding all the provided information. My mind was running over by haywire thoughts of possible truths which had an unending number of possibilities. “I'll have to keep asking questions to reach the bottom of all of it,” I murmured, “for my little Shaur,” watching the outside world which existed out of the large wall mirror to the shadowy lawn, I made a promise to myself. Th

Part two. Next morning. Back to his home, In the office. Something never changes with time as well. Now, Is it? He shook his head in light motion referring to a certain someone who had impossibly liquid eyes with glamorous features bestowed on a small face. Uzair mused about their time when abruptly a certain euphoric nostalgia hit him hard. He didn't blink as he reminisced with an awash satisfaction present in his mouth, his lips turning up into a usual smirk that he wore always when he was satisfied with something. Even time cannot change some habits in people just like his little one. He chuckled. She had not changed much just like he anticipated. She was still an angry bird and childish as ever. Leaning back to the headrest of the leather chair of his large aristocratic office, he joined his both bulky, veiny arms on his ample stomach and closed his heavy lids which were bestowed by long dark curved black lashes. As he inhaled and exhaled thinking about those moments

Part two. It wasn't like he did not care. He cared about people. He wasn't very sensitive whatsoever, but he wasn't insensitive either. And, he always bore a soft spot for emotions as intense as hers were but he knew well enough to entangle in that type of relationship she wanted. Physical. Sexual. Above all— ownership. Yet, he knew her obsession with him was quite preposterous and wrong. Morally wrong. Furthermore, she not only wanted a physical relationship but a fully committed one at that, which he could not give her. Ever. It was someone else's place from the moment they met for the first time since the beginning. Decades ago, she was close to his heart. Who had made his life preferable by just being in it? His little bird. Taking out his Aluminium Gold Treasurer, he lit it before puffing out the smoke through his nose. His obsidian eyes met with the darkest sea green of colours. Her eyes were as warm as an unstrung summer. Face as white as any white porcelain doll. Beautif

28— stupefaction. Sometimes the betrayal doesn't come from others. It comes from us as we trusted others blindly when already knowing the consequences. —Saumya Tripathi “He did not lie at all,” his eyes appeared to have opened the gates of remorse. My mind was clouded with thoughts again. Thoughts that had me feeling completely ruined. How could he not? How was I supposed to trust the words coming from a total stranger? My heart was hammering against my chest. The said truth left me with more questions than intended with a wide range of possibilities in its wake. I wasn't that much shocked when this certain truth was fed by Shreyaanz uncle. However, it indeed left a hollow wound inside of me when confirmed by the only person I trusted blindly. He should have let me know about all of this from the beginning. Shouldn't he? I was petrified and there was no doubt of it. Was it too much for him to just come clean with the truth? I guess so, perhaps that was why he didn't o