Madhubala - Ek Ishq Ek Junoon


Madhubala - Ek Ishq Ek Junoon
Madhubala - Ek Ishq Ek Junoon

FF - The Promise - Thread I - Chapter 1 to 68

luvera Goldie

Joined: 01 December 2012
Posts: 1394

Posted: 12 January 2013 at 9:24pm | IP Logged

Have read many a fanfic varying from Roswell to Buffy the Vampire Slayer.. But have written none..

Have a basic concept in mind to begin with and will toy with the same as I go on.. 

Don't like to talk too much about my writing, would rather just get into it.. I am open to constructive criticism so feel free...

Anyway here goes nothing...

The Promise

Chapter 1

He got up with a start & realized what woke him up was his daughter's scream. He quickly got off the king size bed and rushed across the hall into her princess styled bedroom. As he got to her, he immediately started coddling her with shushing noises and assuring her that it was just a dream, a bad one, but still a dream. She calmed down as she slowly got back to the present and felt safe once again in his arms.

Slowly as he kept murmuring her favourite song, she fell asleep in his arms again. He put her down and tucked her in again. He turned to check on her again as her walked out of her room. He sighed wondering how much he loved her and more he could do to lessen the pain she feels but tries to hide. He sighed once again in defeat and walked away.

This was a common occurrence in the Malik residence, wherein a couple of times a week, 8 year old Madhu would get up screaming in the middle of the night after a bad dream. It started 2 years ago the day after her 6th birthday, when she went looking for her mother after her return from school and found her lying in a pool of her own blood. Since then her screams could still be heard almost every night.

In the day she seemed almost normal, just like any other child, laughing, making bird noises, playing pranks on everybody. Sometimes you could catch her staring out into space with a forlorn look, which made you wonder what tragic thoughts were passing through the vast landscape of her mind. She never spoke about it to anyone, not her father, not even her therapist. The only way the therapist was able to guess what was going on in that 8 year old mind was through her paintings. Every drawing of hers represented her inner most feelings.


At first I thought that Mommy had tripped over the new bottle of red paint she promised she would buy me that day before I got home from school in the afternoon. I was mad at her for that. But when I called out to her and she didn't answer, I went closer and shook her, she didn't wake. I noticed a big knife coming out of Mommy's tummy and realized that she had a boo boo, just like the time I got a boo boo when I was trying to be a big girl and use the knife. Then I realized that it wasn't red paint after all and I screamed and screamed and screamed till I lost my voice and then screamed some more. I didn't realize when my nanny Maya came to me and dragged me away, when she called Daddy and he came rushing home to me, when the police came and took her away, it still is hazy. All I remember is that morning before I left for school, Mommy telling me as she got me ready - " Sweetheart, You know your Nani is not well and we had to take her to the Doctor, so that he can take care of her and make her all well. The Doctor has said that Nani has to stay with him for a few more days, and since he cannot take care of Nani on his own, I will have to help him. So you have to be a big girl and take care of yourself and Daddy too since we know that Daddy is a goof-ball and doesn't even know how to tie his shoelaces let alone take care of himself." Both of us laughed at this. I remember happily promising to never being sad and always taking care of Daddy when she isn't around. She was soo happy to hear that that she hugged me till I complained of not being able to breathe.. And after she let me go, we laughed some more. She told Maya that she would but me new paints that day before she left that evening. That was the last happy memory I have of her.

I don't remember when I finally stopped screaming & when I fell asleep crying.. All I remember is while I slept I dreamt about Mommy and relived that day with her all over again. Even after I got up screaming, the only thing that kept hounding me was my Promise. All I know now is that come what may, I have to keep that promise to Mommy, the promise to never be sad and to always take care of Daddy..

It is hard, some days it is even harder, but I try to be happy and try to make Daddy happy just the way Mommy would have wanted. 


Chapter 1 : Pg 1

Chapter 2 : Pg 1

Chapter 3 : Pg 1

Chapter 4 : Pg 1

Chapter 5 : Pg 2

Chapter 6 : Pg 2

Chapter 7 : Pg 2

Chapter 8 : Pg 3

Chapter 9 : Pg 4

Chapter 10 : Pg 6

Chapter 11 : Pg 7

Chapter 12 : Pg 8

Chapter 13 : Pg 8

Chapter 14 : Pg 10

Chapter 15 : Pg 11

Chapter 16 : Pg 13

Chapter 17 : Pg 16

Chapter 18 : Pg 17

Chapter 19 : Pg 18

Chapter 20 : Pg 21

Chapter 21 : Pg 23

Chapter 22 : Pg 25

Chapter 23 : Pg 27

Chapter 24 : Pg 27

Chapter 25 : Pg 29

Chapter 26 : Pg 29

Chapter 27 : Pg 32

Chapter 28 : Pg 34

Chapter 29 : Pg 38

Chapter 30 : Pg 41

Chapter 31 : Pg 43

Chapter 32 : Pg 46

Chapter 33 : Pg 49

Chapter 34 : Pg 52

Chapter 35 : Pg 54

Chapter 36 : Pg 56

Chapter 37 : Pg 58

Chapter 38 : Pg 61

Chapter 39 : Pg 63

Chapter 40 : Pg 65

Chapter 41 : Pg 67

Chapter 42 : Pg 70

Chapter 43 : Pg 73

Chapter 44 : Pg 76

Chapter 45 : Pg 78

Chapter 46 : Pg 80

Chapter 47 : Pg 83

Chapter 48 : Pg 85

Chapter 49 : Pg 88

Chapter 50 : Pg 91

Chapter 51 : Pg 92

Chapter 52 : Pg 97

Chapter 53 : Pg 100

Chapter 54 : Pg 102

Chapter 55 : Pg 105

Chapter 56 : Pg 108

Chapter 57 : Pg 111

Chapter 58 : Pg 118

Chapter 59 : Pg 120

Chapter 60 : Pg 122

Chapter 61 : Pg 125

Chapter 62 : Pg 129

Chapter 63 : Pg 134

Chapter 64 : Pg 134

Chapter 65 : Pg 137

Chapter 66 : Pg 141

Chapter 67 : Pg 145

Chapter 68 : Pg 149

Here is the link for FF - The Promise Thread II

# If you would like me to pm you when i update, you may buddy me.

Not sure if the readers are liking my style of writing or my story.  But would appreciate it if you could hit the like button or post reply button and leave your comments, be it in the form of criticism or approval!!!


Also here is the link for index of other stories/articles/polls etc..

Edited by luvera - 06 October 2013 at 10:26pm

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luvera Goldie

Joined: 01 December 2012
Posts: 1394

Posted: 12 January 2013 at 10:07pm | IP Logged

Chapter 2

Mr. Malik did what he could to bring her out of her grief. She was a happy go lucky child on the outside but he knew she harbored deep sorrow within her self, sorrow she herself refused to acknowledge even when alone. The therapist too tried getting through to her but it was like she had locked her sadness up in this box whose key was lost somewhere in the sands of the Sahara, never to be opened again.

Her only form of expression was painting. As they say every feeling has to come out in some form or the other no matter how much you repress it. Sometimes this form maybe for the worse but in her case it was through art, a form of expression introduced to her by her mother, and something that still connected them to each other.

If she will not talk about it, the therapist said to Mr. Malik one day, let her paint it out. So Mr. Malik encouraged Madhu to paint, even to the extent to giving her a separate room to paint in.

Her paintings were abstract in nature and only someone with a keen sense of art would be able to see through the colours and forms to decipher the pain and sadness portrayed within it.

Edited by luvera - 13 January 2013 at 12:32am

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luvera Goldie

Joined: 01 December 2012
Posts: 1394

Posted: 13 January 2013 at 12:24am | IP Logged

Chapter 3

Her paintings were her get away as she grew up. All negativity in her life were portrayed in her paintings. As she grew her brush strokes became more confident and prominent. She had an innate talent which was carefully nurtured. She initially did not want others to see her paintings as she believed them to be personal. But her father persuaded her to showcase her works of art at the prominent Jehangir Art Gallery in Mumbai, and she could not refuse since doing so would only make him sad.

The exhibit was going to showcase and promote new artists and their different styles of art - expressionism, abstract, impressionism, realism etc. She chose 5 of her best and most favorite paintings and handed them over to the curator. (example of abstract art shown below) And then it was just the matter of time.

Her father was very excited and extremely proud of Madhu. He kept telling her that her mother would be sooo very happy today to see her daughter's paintings showcased at the prestigious Jehangir Art Gallery, where the most famous art collectors, dealers and rich business men and women come to view and buy art. He could not wait to read the art review next day in the papers. He was happy and I was happy for him. My world revolved around him and my paintings.

It was a very formal event and was going to be open only to the elite that evening. And then for two more weeks it would be open for the general public. Any art bought could be collected by the owner only at the end of the exhibition i.e. two weeks later.

Chapter 4

He walked in proud and nonchalant. If it was not his Dad's business partner who personally invited him to the exhibition, he would not have bothered, not because he did not love art or had no knowledge of it, but because he believed that such grand exhibitions were orchestrated by the rich Daddies of the world to showcase the amateurish attempts of art by their so called talented children. And so the case here, he knew that his Dad's business partner got the gallery to showcase his daughter's paintings because he did major construction work for the gallery for free. Not only would he have to rave over her paintings but will have to even buy one just to show good faith. He would rather give away that kind of money to charity than buy another one of her so called art just to put it away in storage or adorn it at their Alibagh farmhouse which they rarely visited.

The walls in his house graced art from the world famous artists such as S.H. Raza, Tyeb Mehta, Vasudeo S. Gaikonde etc. He himself was an artist, but painted only for himself. He could have been an a prominent name in the world of art and sculpture but considered his art as personal.

He himself looked like God personally chiselled him from the best marble there was, comparing him to the beautiful works of Donatello, Rodin and Bernini. His cheeks are chiselled like a finely carved Michaelangelo statue. His nose is perfectly symmetrical. His lips are slightly full : the kind that end in a cute little smirk at the corners. The rays of sun highlight the dimples in his cheeks and chin. His eyes black and daring. His hair is like deep waves that you just want to run your hands through. His frame so firm and perfectly fit. His hands so beautiful that you just cant wait to be touched. He knew how he looked and so was a bit cocky, but at the same time he was well read and had sound business sense. He had everything he could ever need yet there was something lacking in his life, but never let himself ponder over it for too long lest it overtakes the rest of his thought processes.

Edited by luvera - 13 January 2013 at 12:33am

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amandadsouza95 IF-Stunnerz

Joined: 29 August 2011
Posts: 25130

Posted: 13 January 2013 at 12:29am | IP Logged
@luvera: Awesum n fantastic!!!!Smile

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deepak148 IF-Sizzlerz

Joined: 13 October 2012
Posts: 22038

Posted: 13 January 2013 at 12:31am | IP Logged

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luvera Goldie

Joined: 01 December 2012
Posts: 1394

Posted: 13 January 2013 at 12:39am | IP Logged
I will be updating on a regular basis for the time being until i reach a writers block... Atleast once a week if not more...

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Vsoujanya IF-Dazzler

Joined: 21 June 2007
Posts: 2920

Posted: 13 January 2013 at 12:40am | IP Logged
WOW! this is a totally different plot but very well thought out so far!Clap

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-SmexyGhost- IF-Sizzlerz

Joined: 25 September 2012
Posts: 10391

Posted: 13 January 2013 at 1:00am | IP Logged
Nice start.

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