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I experience now. Cities like Mumbai, are crowded places. I finally make it to the Gateway of India, people around rushing. It feels too tight, the bodies near me slick with sweat and heat and my stench of a long tiring day. Even my own skin doesn’t feel right and as I try to stretch my arms and neck but can’t move in the crush of people.

I check the lamp posts and big walls before I enter any street. I feel like everyone in the city is watching me as I make my way alone into empty streets with many of my unanswered questions. I saw my wanted posters with a photo of mine, from my passport, glued on red painted walls. News is swift and I started hearing people murmuring or my own mind playing with me. I have been roaming on roads asking people in the language I suffer to converse for Meghana’s address. I would ask anyone who don’t stare at me with suspicion. I finally bought the newspaper of Times of Mumbai and hunted for her article. It’s past eleven thirty ticking my clock, when I finally found the address of Miss Saxena. No way have I rang the bell at this time. But I couldn’t help as my stomach is grumbling with hunger. To my surprise no one responds. I hit the bell three times in a row. While I’m about to knock the door. I realised that the door was already open. But is it okay, to enter without permission? I understand moral ethics, but my stomach doesn’t. I will apologise as soon she is back. I promise myself. I didn’t give a second thought.

Meghana’s Residence

13th August, 2011.

I put my hands on whatever I can eat; chewing food in loud gulps and breathing out mewls with weird sounds. Then I heard someone approaching me from behind. As I turned around it was Meghana with frying pan in her hand, staring at me in disbelief, covered herself in black nocturnal night wear transparent enough to showcase her skin that only covered her body, till her thighs.

‘Rahim?’ Her mouth wide open in surprise

‘How did you find my house? What are you doing here?’

Covering her skin in shame and awkwardness, hesitantly tapping her fingernails on the pan held in her hand. Rolling her eyes, she came closer petrified and coiling her hair, grabbed the bowl form my palms.

‘Meghana, Sorry. Hear me out. Let me explain.’

I can’t stand her embarrassment.

‘You need not. Please stop. Now I know everything about you.’

‘Sorry?’ in a soft tone, my voice cracking. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Yes, Aditi told me everything.’

My eyes widened when I heard the name, ‘Did you meet her? How is she?’

‘Don’t you act like you love her.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I know everything about your past and the thing about your fake country.’

‘What do you know?’ my mind is already ramped up with unanswered questions. Even now, I’m receiving more and more questions. It is obvious behaviour as nobody would expect a stranger in their kitchen at this hour that too, as a thief without informing.

‘Meghana, I need to tell you something.’

‘What else left to say,’ she looks away ‘Liar.’ placing the frying pan on the table.

‘What did I do? totally confused. Then I saw someone standing to the left gazing our conversation. Aditi. My heart rose as I saw her. I couldn’t stop myself without hugging her.

‘Aditi, I’m so happy. Finally, I see you.’

But Aditi isn’t responding. She didn’t move an inch, almost frozen; my hug didn’t shake her up. Her body felt dead to me. No feeling towards my touch. Slowly I realised the fact that she isn’t my wife. She is not from my world.

She slaps me hard as she gets into her consciousness. She definitely isn’t the one, whom I fell in love with, in the beautiful city of Qubit. She isn’t the one, whom I kissed and made love all night. Slowly, I came back to my place, apologizing to her.

‘Sorry, Aditi. I couldn’t control myself.’ I apologized.

Her face literally is blank. I cannot blame her. This is all weird and confusing.

Meghana is still ingesting the fact, how did I end up here?

‘Rahim! Stay away from her. I will call the police right away.’

‘Sorry both, I mean no harm,’ I raised my hands ‘And I have no weapon with me.’

‘Why are you here? What is your plan?’

‘I’m gonna tell you both something, you won’t believe.’

‘What is that?’ Meghana on top of her voice.

‘Rahim came to Mumbai to execute the next bombing; this would be the big one in the series of blasts.’ They were horrified for two things; one is for the next bombing detail and other is for me referring to my own self as a third person.

Chapter VI

I told them everything that I figured out. Even though my theory sounded bullshit. It is my truth and I hope them to believe it too. They would at least realise that I’m not guilty or mean any danger to anyone. I handed Rahim’s diary to Meghana, I found in my briefcase, she began reading. Aditi, on other side is still gazing at me, like I’m an alien from another universe. Her eyes scanning my whole body, to find out if she can find any difference against Rahim of her universe. If they don’t support me now. I have no other option left than going behind bars. Meghana promised me in yield of the real truth that will help, if my theory is proved to be right.

Journal Entry

March, 2011

      The narcissistic abuser rejoices when you recall your wounds and your struggles, and it triggers when someone breaks your heart. The nights I spent with Aditi relieved daily stress, tasting her tight lips, circling the spot which pondered her thighs to resonate with desire, while her tender skin being vulnerable and intimate as her naked body over mine has sewed the pain stitching my heart. Her loud moans and long deep kisses have shown

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