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The first rays of a bright morning filtered the room which was heavy and tensed. All that could be heard was systematic and regular punching of fists against the hung punching bag which now seemed worn out, however dutta was relentless, he kept on hitting it with as much force as possible in an attempt to push away his thoughts. However neither those disturbing thoughts were leaving him nor his anger was coming down. He circled the leather bag, kept himself on his toes and continued to punch it harder every time. Dutta sriram patil, a man of principles who always respected women, in fact women and children felt safe and protected under his reign, today hated himself. Someone who always safeguarded the honor of women by eradicating flesh trade from patil vadi and punishing those who indulged in it, today saw himself as a culprit. Like any other immoral and unethical man he too had spent a night with another lady. In spite of being married, in spite of being committed, he'd dared to let his morals down. His nostrils flared in rage as he struck again and again, alternating between cross punches and jabs. He stopped for a moment, inhaling his own scent, beads of perspiration hung from the tip of his nose, he glanced at his knuckles which were covered with wraps instead of gloves, they were bruised and were aching, still that physical pain was nothing compared to what misery his heart was going through. He stretched his fingers then curled them in a fist one more time and began assaulting the punching bag again.
He didn't know what was making him more furious, the fact that his own wife had made such an outrageous suggestion or that he'd acted upon that suggestion. As much as he liked to believe that he ruled his life but still reality was absolutely the opposite. Seema's deceit killed the innocent dutta and gave birth to ruthless and gruesome 'dutta bhau'. Her betrayal, her hunger for money forced him to walk on a path which had no u turn. She pushed him into a dark dungeon which had no ray of light, only loneliness and bitterness accompanied him. He spent the next few years in gaining power and shielding himself from getting emotionally hurt. Physical pain he could endure but no more heart breaks. He was like an ocean, peaceful at one moment and infuriated in the next one. He needed happiness and stability in his life, that's what his mother thought and for that she felt that he should settle down in life with someone who could accept him with his past and present, someone who would love him the way he was. Therefore supriya was selected, she was the perfect choice and his mother had several reasons to support her decision, firstly, she was not new to them, she was the daughter of Nanasaheb who was dutta's mentor. Nanasaheb was the one who trained dutta and before his eyes, dutta became the sole ruler and caretaker of Patilwadi. Secondly, supriya herself came from a family which had underworld connections therefore the sound of bullets and sight of lifeless bodies were not new to her and thirdly she was never intimidated by dutta's persona nor she was ever at awe of him, she saw dutta, the gangster and was willing to spend the rest of her life with him without any hesitation. Once again the future course of his life was directed by someone else, he couldn't say no to her dying mother who only desired to see someone taking care of his son, someone showering him with love and happiness which he truly deserved. After wandering aimlessly in life, he thought, more so hoped that supriya might be the destination he was searching for. His married life was smooth, devoid of any arguments that normal couples indulge into, there was no room for fights, how could be when both of them hardly interfered in each others decisions and gave the other one a free hand in leading their lives without imposing their thoughts on the other. With the passage of time he developed affection towards her, he didn't know whether he loved her not because after getting his feelings played by once he'd lost faith in that emotion and in himself, he wasn't sure if he could love somebody again but he definitely cared for her. He was always there for her when they came to know that they couldn't be parents ever, for him it was always they and not her. He gave her much needed emotional strength and support during that difficult phase, not even once did he let her feel alone. He accompanied her to every doctor and cooperated with her whenever she underwent any medical treatment which were physically painful and emotionally draining. Seeing her go through so much he many a times asked her to stop trying and accept this as their destiny but she was unrelenting and today because of her adamant behavior he compromised on his morals, principles and ethics, because of her today he was hating himself to the core. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaws then began hitting the punching bag with more vigor whose seams by now had been frayed while the sand threatened to pour out any moment.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, attempting to stop him, he knew who was standing behind him and he turned around slowly, breathing heavily. Closing her eyes, supriya embraced his hot and wet form.
" aapne jo humare liye kiya ..main woh kabhi nahin bhoolungi." She said holding on to him tightly, he smirked inwardly hearing her and said to himself, even he wouldn't ever forget what he'd done.
" bus ab bappa humein woh khushi de dein ..jiska humein barso se intezaar hai."
He gulped the lump in his throat, his body stiffened and his tongue licked the droplets of sweat formed on his upper lip. He was quiet and firm, she looked up to him and asked," kya baat hai..aap itna chup kyun hain?" he shook his head and replied," nahin ..bus kuch soch raha tha." She drew her brows together in confusion and he took a step back creating some distance between them before sharing his thoughts with her.
" main soch raha tha ..agar kami tumhari jagah mujh mein hoti toh.." his rough and husky tone was somewhere disturbing her, probably she wasn't aware what was coming next. He slowly removed the wraps bandaged around his knuckles and continued," kya tum phirbhi bacche ke liye ..kisi aur aadmi ke saath.." her eyes grew wide in shock and she yelled," dutta ji."
She clutched the mangal sutra hanging around her neck and asked in disbelief," yeh aap kya keh rahe hain?" his eyes danced in amusement and his lips curled in a tight smile, it pleasured him to watch her distraught expression. Turning towards the punching bag he said casually," maine toh sirf ek sawaal kiya..par tumne toh mujhe seedha apna faisla hi suna diya." Pressing her lips together she stared at his back and justified herself," maine job hi kiya humari khushi ke liya kiya." This time he sniggered openly hearing her reply and shook his head then glanced over his shoulder and asked," accha agar kal ki raat se humein HUMAARI khushi na mili ho toh..yeh bhi bataa do ki agli raat mujhe HUMAARI khushi ke liye aur kya karna hoga?" stressing on 'THEIR' happiness purposely he thumped hard when his fist came in direct contact with the leather bag, tearing it apart with all the sand pouring out, quite similar to his heart which had been ripped and was now bleeding, thanks to her.
She lowered her head and took a deep breath while seeing him leave the place in fury. Making him understand her point of view was always not so easy for her. Both being strong headed and stubborn, their thoughts often clashed however he always managed to find a middle path and thus solved the problem for instance after marriage, supriya being all alone in the house wished to get involved in his business, she didn't want to confine herself to the four walls of Patil Niwas, he disapproved her initially because her getting into his dangerous territories was simply out of question however he felt she could participate in the charitable works he undertook. So she began to administer the orphanages and nursing homes that he'd opened up for the people of patil vadi. With the passage of time her participation towards the betterment of Patil vadi increased, if he was 'dutta bhau' then she too rose to the status of 'vaheni saheb'. Enjoying this new found adulation, popularity and respect she desired to explore more. Nanasaheb, her father was entering into politics, seeing the hold dutta had on the people of patil vadi she urged him to join hands with her father and contest the elections. He refused her blankly, he was already successful and was doing whatever was required in his capacity for the upliftment of people around and didn't wish to taste more power but she was adamant and thought that by venturing into politics they could do loads for the welfare of patil vasis. One more time he agreed to compromise, instead of himself he allowed her to assist her father but on one condition that his reputation would never be at stake. That was the time period when they came to know about her infertility so he thought that it was best for her to divert her mind to something else. If she kept herself busy then she wouldn't worry about this issue, that's what he believed but he was wrong. The craving to have a child never left her and she took recourse to every possible medical treatment that was available. During the days both of them kept themselves busy in their respective works, would hardly get to see each other and no one complained on the other hand nights were spent in making love..no not exactly. Actually what used to transpire between them couldn't be named as love making but an exercise to produce a baby. Their interactions were devoid of love and passion. Their failed attempts only made their relationship dull and emotionless. Usually a child strengthens a marriage where as in their case, the attempts to have a child was only weakening their marriage.
She was pushing herself, him and their relationship too far, to a point where now he was nothing but furious with her and she was aware of it, however still she believed that the day the news of their becoming parents would break, he'd come around. For such a huge happiness, small sacrifices needed to be made and this he'd definitely realize later on.
With sweat oozing out of his body and rage out of his eyes, he stormed inside his bedroom, he exercised as much self control as possible to prevent his wandering eyes from falling on the object that he didn't desire to see, however all his defenses came crumbling down and involuntarily his gaze fell on that bed. He curled his fingers in a fist at the sight of that wrinkled bed sheet which was narrating loudly as to what had happened the previous night. Knotting his brows together he walked towards the bed, her broken glass bangles lay in a corner along with her long black strand, the sheet was stained with the drops of blood that had trickled down her wounded writs thereby leaving the imprints of his beastly behavior. His chest heaved up and down with anger boiling within him and in a swift move he grabbed that bed sheet and threw it aside. The glass pieces fell near his feet with a clinking noise. On his right side lay the broken wedding picture of his, a deep crack formed between him and supriya while on his left side those glass bangles. He didn't know what to pick, the wedding photo frame or the bangles, both were shattered and both were pricking his heart. Leaving everything as it was he barged inside his bathroom to wash out those haunting memories.
Stripping himself off his wet black vest and track pants he entered the shower cubicle and slammed the sliding glass door shut before turning on the shower. The hot water came cascading down, the heat from the shower filled the room and the heat from his body filled the air. He couldn't decide what was more hot, the water that was soaking him or the heat that was erupting like molten lava from within him. The shower instead of calming him down was adding fuel to the fire and that's what he wanted, he wanted to torture himself, punish himself. He closed his eyes in pain, dizzying images of the night fluttered through his mind, he could still feel her soft delicate frame trapped underneath his hard and solid form. Why didn't she resist his touch? Why didn't she stop him? Why did she give in so easily? Did she consider him too like any other man lusting for her body or using her for his personal benefit? He pushed the lever to further left, now the water was burning his skin, he squeezed his eyes firmly and brushed his hands through his hair combing them back, his hands slid down his neck where her warm breath had kissed him, then stopped on his cheek, he could still feel her cold and soft fingers against his heated skin, the part where she'd touched him so tenderly making him wonder, if she thought of him like any other man claiming her then why did her eyes convey something different? As if they could feel the anguish he was going through, as if she trusted him with herself but how was that possible? He slammed his palms against the wet tiles in frustration and glanced at his bruised knuckles which reminded him of her scraped wrists that were bleeding because of him. After insulting her, treating her so harshly how could her eyes still reflect his pain? Disgusted with himself he turned off the shower, by now his whole body had turned crimson coz of the heat. The mist formed on the glass door blocked his view, he couldn't see the mirror placed opposite the shower cubicle. He raised his hand to wipe off the mist but stopped, did he have the courage to face himself? Did he have the guts to see himself in the mirror when the memories of last night were still so fresh in his mind? He shook his head in negation
When he'd be able to forget everything? When he'd be able to forgive himself? When he'd be able to accept reality only time would tell.
Thanks for reading
next part http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=3234274&PID=69285653�
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