Diary of Nobody -II-

Today I woke up with a pain in my chest, mainly on the left side. You must have been missing me. Does she not take care of you like how I used to? Does she not put your clothes out on the bed while you are in the shower so you don’t have to fish through the cupboard? Does she not prepare breakfast for you before you have to leave for work? Does she even know that you love to eat vegetable-cheese omelette in the breakfast? Does she know that you are allergic to any kind of household work? Does she love you the way I do?

You remember when the first time we moved in together, you told me to never toast bread in the toaster for you. You always liked to make toasts on the pan. I would grease the pan with butter and then spread butter on both sides of the bread and make a golden brown toast for you. You would get annoyed if the corners of the toast were burnt but when I would offer to make another one, you’d always refuse and tell me that you enjoy the crispy corners. I would smile to myself and think that you were the most terrible liar I knew. Over the time, I learnt that if I had burnt the toast, I should make a new one without asking you. You were all about formalities although eventually you would agree for what you want but formalities were necessary in your book of code and conduct. You had to pretend to care to make me feel good and once you were done making me feel special, you’d be like, ‘You’re the wife, know your role.’ I could never stop laughing after that.

The omelette was your favorite in the breakfast (of course with lots of chopped green chillies and red chilli flakes). You always liked it if I would not break the omelette on the pan while flipping it. With time, I mastered that art and I thought of myself as the best omelette chef in the world. You loved my cooking. When I would bring our breakfast in the room; you would once in a while surprise me with a clean and tidy bed. You knew I had a thing for the bed. I always wanted the bed to be made and be clean and tidy. However, you wouldn’t always do it. Your idea was that when I expected it, it shouldn’t be done but when I didn’t; you would make the bed. Your inconsistency and spontaneity always caught me. I remember how you used to look at my disappointed face when the bed was not made and to tease me further, you would put your arms around me from behind, giggle and whisper in my ear that you love to surprise me and watch my expressions. I wonder how we knew each other so well. I wonder how you could ever leave when you told me you saw your God in me.

I loved those times even better when you’d have to go early to work and then return by mid-day. I always liked to wake up with you and see you off (maybe that’s why you always told me that I was the perfect wife-material). When you had to go early, you preferred drinking juice instead of eating breakfast in the morning. However, when it was time for you to return after few hours, I would prepare breakfast for you. I loved to wait on you and would always be looking for you from our apartment’s window (imagine me and my race: kitchen and room, kitchen and room – Such a restless soul). Usually, you’d have the key of the apartment so when you would return; you wouldn’t go to the room (to keep your bag and stuff) or use the toilet (even though sometimes you had to use the toilet very bad because you didn’t like to use public toilets) but you would straight away come to the kitchen, hug me from behind and kiss my mouth. That was your routine. Sometimes, you would be running to the toilet after kissing me to get relieved but the kiss was necessary before anything. It was amazing how I would forget to kiss you at times before leaving the house but you would never forget to kiss my mouth. Do you ever wonder how it would feel to kiss me again? Do you ever wonder how my mouth will taste now — Heartache Berry or Emotional Cherry?

You were very self-conscious about your bad breath, even with me. You had to mouthwash before going to bed every night. Although, you couldn’t ever escape it completely because when you’d wake up and kiss my mouth unconsciously after wishing me a good morning in the bed, it was always too late for you to realize that you have kissed me without brushing your teeth or using mouthwash. I want to confess something today: I loved to kiss you better in the morning than in the night.

Every morning, I wake up with a part of you: sometimes your kiss and sometimes your scent; sometimes the hollow spaces in my heart that your absence fills and sometimes with your picture in my hand. Now that I have written this; I know why I woke up with a pain in my chest today. I might have missed on some part of you this morning and my heart couldn’t allow that injustice with you and your memories.

The flavor of love,
Is it vanilla or chocolate?
The cravings in love,
Are they bitter or sweet?
All that I know about love,
It begins and ends with you,
It’s the flavor of your tongue,
The scent of your body,
The sound of your voice,
The touch of your hand,
The sight of your utmost beauty.

Advertisements

The Naked Truth

You told me,
It was you all along,
Who wanted to be set free,
Who wanted wings to flee,
Who wanted a key,
For another heart’s ignition,
You wanted everything but not me.

You told me,
There is no Forever,
Bitter but this world is clever,
Pain is an endeavor,
Never say never,
For I know now,
Lies defined our vows,
You wanted everything but didn’t know how.

You told me,
A story,
A legend,
You played your part,
With all your heart,
A man as fine as art,
Somebody extraordinarily smart,
I forgot that love was a forbidden fruit,
I forgot that passionate night my life’s route,
You took everything — it was a loot,
You wanted everything but not a dispute.

Today, I yearn for your heart,
I beg and plead to play my part,
But you’re a changed man,
You want your free-will,
You want your life,
You want your thrill,
You want a strife,
You want everything but not a wife,
For now, I can be anybody and see,
You want everything but not me.

I Love You!

Note: This poem is another real-life story. This is the story of my very dear friend who has over the time fallen for a man who possess a life-turning history that can move anyone! He is a gem and truly deserve to be loved for who he is. I have met him personally and I believe that men like him are found rarely on this planet for he never curses the life’s mishaps instead enjoy competing with them. He is an inspiration and I believe what he did for his family isn’t a piece of cake. It is his birthday today and I wish him a very warm Happy Birthday with blessings for his health and happiness. I hope he and my friend can succeed in paving their way together.

The poem can be confusing but I do not want to fade the charm by my explanations. All I can say is consider my friend and her lover on the scene – I’m not included even if the poetry sounds like “I” all the time.

Hey buddy, if you are reading this one’s for you!  Happy Birthday! *High Five*

Your arms comfort me,
Your love is all I can see.

Deep oceans and vast skies,
Love’s in the air – no goodbyes.

Claim me; I belong to you,
Waiting on the moment when I can say I DO!

Life’s been a torture and a harsh examination.
You’ve fought the hatred, bullies and raising inflation.

The day you sobbed while murmuring the story of your past,
My heart was stabbed and my heartbeat so fast.

You told me how previously you had nothing to eat,
You had to shift houses – move from street to street.

Your wife was your support and you loved her truly,
She paced with you despite of life being so unruly.

You looked at her and the miseries seemed off shore,
Her arms were your heaven and her love your highest score.

The world conspired against both of you,
However, you remained steadfast as the time flew.

*From this turn, I have changed the speech of the poem. The poem continues to be his narration (in my words, of course) *

Seven years of struggle, efforts and resistance,
Letting her go was the destiny’s decision.

Two different religions portray us as criminals,
If love is a crime then I will commit it in all my life’s intervals.

The world parted us,
M
y soul couldn’t take the fuss.

The divorce papers were on the desk,
Failure invaded my heart – my reflection so grotesque.

How can I sign them for I love her name?
How can I forget those memories we together framed?

The world’s cruel and brutal but my heart is at peace,
I smile when I encounter how her life’s at ease.

Her gleaming eyes deserve all the happiness,
How can I forget her lovely caresses?

She loved me, for who I was,
She adored me exceptionally without laws.

Today, on my birthday I cherish my memories with her,
Our lively memories that can never be blurred.

She looks at me from the photo I have clutched,
Her pretty smile makes me feel the warmth of her touch.

Many may come in my life though,
No one can fade the charm of her glow.

Life can be excruciating to wound you,
Make your way through and be forever true.

Fairy tales and US!

We all can always see the castle of happiness at some distance!

Once upon a time and a fairy tale starts;
Life painted with love – correlation of two hearts.

An innocent princess trapped by the evil forces;
However her fine character pursues love and its courses.

The villain of the story is proud and heartless;
Torturing and tormenting the princess – his behavior never artless. 

Patience, tolerance and love represent the flawless princess;
Waiting on her prince charming – seeking the clue for his access.

Beautiful princess is then spell bounded or caught in trouble;
The world vanishes from her sight and is captured in a bubble.

The villain’s pleased to harm the lovely princess and her virtuous character;
Before it’s too late, the prince appears to fight the evil and claim her for life and after.

Good always triumphs over evil, they say;
Life’s complex but nothing can defeat the sunshine’s ray.

The prince defeats the villain and makes the princess his forever;
They fondle and kiss each other – a new journey they begin to endeavor.

Every fairy tale is “HAPPILY EVER AFTER”;
How can they never cry and always treasure the smiles and laughter?

I’m grown up and it’s my children’s time to adore these tales,
There is no end to villains even if I dig up on all the details.

There is no happily ever after – ups and downs are part of life,
Cherish each other’s differences and adore your spouses whether it’s your husband or wife.

Empowerment Of Women!

She rises from the ground and with her strength touches the Heavens

When your eyes open for the first time;
The hands of a woman wrap you in Thyme.

When your heart beats to make a sound,
The ears of a woman are on your chest to be found.

When your lips play with a radiant smile,
Take a glimpse of the parched lips of a woman for a while.

When your tear-filled eyes spill a drop,
This woman upholds your pain to stop.

When your comrades forget to play,
This woman clasps you in her arms and sway.

When oodles of your work is undone,
This woman stays by you until the rising sun.

When your life shuffles happiness to invite sorrow,
This woman of integrity desires to borrow.

When you are lonesome and forlorn,
There is a blissful woman with you to mourn.

This woman is your mother, sister, daughter or wife,
The existent support and comfort throughout your life.

Escape (Part II)

A lovely new morning,
Strengthening life with another warning.

Cara woke up to the sound of the chirping birds and stretched in her bed with a gleaming smile as the unpleasant confrontation of the past night faded in the rooms of her brain. She climbed out of her bed wrapping the warm quilt around her and walked to the window where she removed the curtains to expose herself to the sunlight of the bright new day. Her Sunday morning was usually late but today was different. If one phase of her brain thought about Jon and their young romance leading to an official relationship in future then the other phase of her brain pondered over the survival of her dad after her. She agreed that he was unpredictable but she never blamed him for his behavior. She knew what it would feel to lose someone who is precious to the soul and heart but all this time she failed to analyze that why couldn’t her dad realize that it was not solely him who had lost a beloved wife but she had lost a MOTHER as well – a woman who contained her for nine months yet she knew nothing about her. Mr. Laurengram never felt any better discussing his late wife; he only preferred to drink and drink in grief – grief that Cara believed would never let go of him until the jaws of death would terminate the thread of his breath.

 

Cara’s silent thoughts were vanished in the air when her ringing cell phone scared her to death. She threw back the quilt wrapped around her in a jerk and dashed to her dressing to grab her cell phone and answered the call breathlessly.

“Cara, were you working out at 8 in the morning? I mean, are you okay?” Jon rushed himself with his words like an express on the station.

“Uh.. Well, why are you speaking as if you  are living the last minute of your life?” humorously remarked Cara

“When will you stop being naughty Cara?”

”Never! Do I complain when you are silly to heights?”

”My babe is making me blush eh?” giggled Jon to tease her over and over.

“How is mommy? Was she worried the last night?” Cara asked anxiously. She had met Jon’s mum more than thrice and she saw the reflection of her own mum in that beautiful lady’s embodiment.

“Mum is good, anyway, she was worried but she knew to every beat that I was with YOU”, Jon teases Cara again with his chuckles over the phone.

“Whatever! Are you coming over for the Spring Party at Gayle’s place in the evening?”

“Cara, lets skip it and go for the dinner sweetheart, what do you say?”

“Jon, I have taken enough of you for the morning. See you at the party, let me check dad for now” Cara explained simply for Jon to stop teasing her.

“Okay babe, it is my turn to serve mum so I got to go too but aren’t you forgetting SOMETHING?”

”I love you Jon”, Cara was blushing even though they were not confronting each other.

“I love you too darling”, Jon knew it came from the heart – the core of his heart.

 

They ended the call and busied themselves in their routine. Cara went downstairs and knew that her dad was fast asleep. She brewed coffee and boiled few eggs for the breakfast. She inserted two slices of bread in the toaster at a time and toasted few slices. She collected the news paper from the porch and went through the headlines while laying the table for breakfast. She preferred milky coffee while black coffee was a necessity for his dad to wipe away the recurring headache after the night which had been spent drinking. He avoided drinking on the week days but weekend served him exquisite timings to drink and mourn. Cara knocked her dad’s room few times but no response assured her of his unconsciousness and she opened the door gently and saw her dad lying on the sofa sleeping sound. The last night was invigorated in her brain and her eyes suddenly were filed with tears. She looked precisely like her dad. The same blue eyes her mother has fallen in love with were the secret to her beauty. These blue eyes were deeper in meaning – the legacy of her life. She sat across the sofa brushing her dad’s brunette hair through her slender fingers and sobbing over his body as if he was already dead. After few minutes, her dad moved and then within few seconds he was squinting to the flashing sunlight illuminating the room through the white curtains.

“Cara, umm.. You here? Baby, Is everything okay?” his hesitation was evident that he might not remember accurately what he did last night but the fragments to the incident were still stored in the hippocampus of his brain.

“Oh daddy, I thought you were too tired so just brought the black coffee couple of minutes ago”, Cara tried her best to sound normal.

There was a pin drop silence. Mr. Laurengram was too busy fighting with the annoying headache that he was unable to see the fresh tears drying out on the pink cheeks of his little doll. He had complimented Cara for the black coffee and was headed to the breakfast table by Cara.

“Oh my goodness, you did this all? When did you wake up or should I ask did you sleep?” he uttered with amazement. Cara smiled and chose to stay silent for that moment. Mr. Laurengram was hungry, he had skipped the meal last night but Cara’s appetite had died already, she played with the fork in her plate cutting the egg in to pieces until he realized her little doll’s lost figure and snapped his fingers before her focused eyes.

 

“Are you in the same world in which I am eating like a beggar hungry for days?” he remarked to lighten the atmosphere.

“Daddy, I am not feeling hungry. I had coffee when I woke up so not feeling like eating.”

“Do you have any plans for the evening?” he asked her politely.

“Oh yeah, a college mate has arranged a Spring Party for the evening. Anything up with you?”

“Yeah, I will drop you by and leave for my business deal. I have a meeting this evening.”

 

The silence again shut their conversation and Mr. Laurengram began leafing the newspaper while she moved upstairs to avoid the confrontation with her dad. He was persistently reminding her of the last night when she did not want to think about it. She heard her dad calling her and she ran downstairs to hear what he had to say.

 “I am sorry”, he said uncertainly.

“Umm.. It’s okay.” Cara tried to resist back her tears. Her dad was not looking at her; she knew he was embarrassed to look into her eyes. The physical pain meant nothing to this young girl but her smashed emotions feared her if she would start hating her dad one day.

 “I know I am wrong. I know I say SORRY always and I hurt you all the time but …” he was interrupted by Cara’s gentle voice.

“Daddy, I said Okay. You don’t have to worry” her tears pierced the white flesh surrounding her sea-blue eyes balls and they spilled drop by drop wetting her face.

“Don’t cry please, that makes me feel guilty”, his voice was stern as usual and though he had pinned his eyes in the newspaper and had not looked up for even a single second yet he knew Cara better than anybody else that he could tell that she was crying without even looking at her.

“I am not crying Dad” she tried to be stern and stiff as him but the outburst of her cry made her run upstairs and dump herself facedown in bed trying to suppress her voice by tugging a pillow underneath her mouth. She cried and cried until her eyes surrendered and had insufficient water to let it out, her mouth and eyes both were dried for it had been an hour since she was crying to shrug the burden off his shoulders.

 

Crying endlessly in bed,
Mourning over the blood-shed.

She got up when it was half past noon. She arranged her closet deciding what to wear for the party the following evening. She messaged Jon to which there was no reply which indicated her that he was busy with his mum and hence she laid in her bed falling for the sleep. She woke up after few hours and before going to bathe she planned on sneaking downstairs to check up on her dad. The hall was empty but the kitchen was clean, her father was doubtlessly the most organized man she knew on the planet. She peeked in his room which was already arranged and tidy. She ran all the way to the porch and there was no car in the driveway, she knew where her dad was. She regretted crying in front of him; she was certain that he must be in the golf club playing golf on his own – the only thing he thought he could do anytime. She rang her dad though she knew he would not receive her call; he felt guilty beyond explanation but she knew he would turn into same creature once again when the memories of her mother would haunt him – this made her hate her mother at times.

Cara was dressed in a multicolor short dress and the bright colors complemented her fair-toned body. Her simplicity was her utmost beauty; she applied mascara to define her long thick eye lashes and softened her lips by applying a cucumber lip balm further defining her thin lips with the Etude glittery gloss to give a party touch to her appearance. She awaited her dad but there were no signs of his arrival; she called him over and over again but he wasn’t responding to her calls and this was not a good signal by any means. Therefore, pushing all the pessimistic thoughts aside, she called Jon to pick her when he would be heading for the party. Within a couple of minutes Jon was on her doorstep with a bouquet of flowers and a present.

“Present! Is there anything special?” exclaimed Cara with amazement and excitement blended all together.

“Well, you can keep the bouquet but you are not opening the present until I say so”, Jon smiled softly to her gleaming blue eyes.

Cara placed the flowers in a vase kept on the table beside stair case and locked the door while messaged her dad that she had waited long and when he had not responded to any of her calls, she had proceeded to the party with Jon. Cara looked at the gentleman precisely in the driver seat and locked her eyes on his innocent face. Cara had always found Jon’s hazel eyes soothing and intoxicating concurrently. Jon was wearing a lime-yellow t-shirt along with white pants. He didn’t look funky which is what the party demanded but decent as always. Cara knew every guy would be dressed fancily at the party but she was proud to be Jon’s girl; after all his dressing code had a taste which was beyond comparison.

 

I love you,
Claims the air that blew.

“I know I am looking SEXY but what are you staring eh?” Jon harassed her with a wink while slipping a finger of his right hand which is enclosed around the hand-gear to touch hers and there she smiled – the smile that always cheered him up and brought pleasure to his heart and soul.

“Oh Mr. Smarty Pants, you may be genius and nerdy but SEXY?? You are nothing close to Hugh Jackman” Cara taunted him back with a playful note in her voice to annoy him.

“Cara! I am no Hugh Jackman because I am Jon, Jon Stanley!” exclaimed Jon.

“Look, now who is getting pissed off huh? Possessive!! Possessive!!” Cara continued teasing him while he played with her fingers and cuddled around her at times when the traffic signal blinked red. 

After half an hour drive, they both were at Gayle’s place hand in hand.

“Cara! Jon! Wow! Great to see you guys together here”, an excited voice made them turn their backs to the addresser.

“Gayle! What a party, bro”, cried Jon with excitement as they both hugged each other followed by a hi-five. Cara shook her hand with Gayle who often seemed brainless to her.

Gayle was a rich brat and a very good friend of Jon. Cara knew him through Jon; though three of them studied together in the first year of Stanford University yet Cara hardly knew anybody whereas Jon was as social as his witty brain allowed him to help every individual in the college. Gayle wore a printed hot-pink t-shirt and multicolor long shorts which made him look no less than a joker. After a brief conversation of Jon and Gayle; Cara was lead to a corner by Jon where they got seated and conversed for an eternity. Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by Cara’s ringing cell phone and she was not certain to attend the call or not as there was an unknown number flashing on the screen. She ignored the call thrice and ultimately when Jon convinced her to receive the call, she agreed reluctantly for the fourth time.

 

“This is Polly from Stanford Hospital. Can I have a word with Miss Cara Laurengram?” an adenoidal flat voice from the other end cracked through the earphone.

“Yeah, Cara speaking”, she hesitantly answered.

“Your father had a severe car accident. We want you in the hospital in an immediate hour to carry out the formalities”, the flat voice was penetrating at once or it might be Cara’s ears.

 

A misery over a heart-felt loss,
Praying with my hand tracing the cross.

The phone tripped from Cara’s sweaty hands with her bulging eyes forming tears that trickled down her cheeks within no time and she hadn’t even the faintest idea how Jon dumped her in the passenger seat and drove all the way to the heart of the city where Stanford hospital was situated.

Escape (Part I)

Your every embrace;
Chasing the morning’s grace.

“Move FAST!!!” cried Jon with the racing heart and his voice competing the stereo speakers set up in the right corner of the club as soon as he saw Cara’s father investigating the security officers on the porch of the small hut. Cara is dressed in beautiful black strapless attire and dancing with her girl friends on the edge of the dance floor near the DJ setup off the floor. Jon thrashes everybody on his way to reach Cara and drapes her face with a piece of black cloth and rushes her through the crowd to the way to the backyard of the hut. Cara releases her hand from his firm grip to unveil his face and embrace him in her comforting warm arms sobbing quietly. Her tears rolling down her cheeks caresses the earlobe of Jon where a sensation is created – he wraps his arms around her as well and they sway with the wind on the edge of the sea shore while water waves play with their entwined feet.

The full moon shining above in the sky creates a miraculous reflection on the water waves crashing on their feet as they sit close to each other hunched on their knees carving each other’s name on the wet mud off the shore. Jon suddenly realizes that Cara is crying when a teardrop from her eye falls on his hand and he confronts her tugging the strands of her loose hair behind her ear and pulls her closer to wrap her in his arms.

“What’s the matter babe?” whispers Jon.

“Baby, I am scared. I want to convince dad to get us married”, explains Cara.

“Hons, you have crossed 18. You are legally an adult now and I love you”, argues Jon.

Cara bursts into a low-pitched cry and buries her face in the well-built chest of Jon. Jon is a dark guy with deep hazel eyes sparkling like the spaceships on the dark land of Pluto. His crooked nose compliments the pouch of his lips. This 6 feet and 2 inches guy stands like a huge pole where little Cara of 5 feet and 2 inches hides herself in him easily. His well-toned body has been an ever-lasting obsession and temptation for many girls but his heart has only accepted Cara as yet for she is his first girl-friend and doubtlessly the last one as he always reassured himself of his devastation if Cara would ever leave him.

Clutching each other – caressed by the wet mud,
Nothing dares to apart us – defeating the lasting flood.

Cara slept with her head tugged in his lap and he watched the beautiful girl lying before him like a beautiful mermaid sleeping peacefully after an exhausted journey. He combed her hair with his fingers while his other hand gripped her waist to support her in the posture she was sleeping. Suddenly, he felt a sensation down his right thigh urging him to move but he resisted to not disturb Cara’s serene sleep and drew his cell phone out of the right pocket of his denim jeans. He tapped the screen gently to see who it was and expectedly it was his mum inquiring about him. He made his way out of the inbox to check the time and his eyes darted the screen without blinking and it wasn’t later when he realized how it was too late to drop Cara home.

“Cara! Wake up sweetheart”, whispered Jon in her ear for he had no intention to knock down the serenity of seashore to pieces.

Cara moved but within the clutch of his arm as he had held her too firmly to let go.
”Babe! Its midnight, I need to drop you by your place sweetheart”, this time Jon’s voice was much louder than a mere whisper.

Cara opened her eyes squinting to the flashing white light of the pole reflected in Jon’s spectacles. “Baby, what’s the time?” Cara asked innocently.

“Quarter past MIDNIGHT,” The words shot as that of a missile and baffled Cara brushed the dust off her dress, yet wondering at the pace of time.
Jon looked at her patiently with a smile on his lips and within ten minutes they were standing on the porch of Cara’s home wishing each other goodnight. This was not the first time Jon has dropped her home at this hour of the dark starry night. The day they first met (the birthday part of Cara’s best friend); from that day onwards Jon knew the way to her home by heart.

Our first kiss under the sun-lit sky,
The fragrance of love – the naughty sigh.

Jon had turned back to return to the car but a hand grasped his wrist firmly and as he turned around, he saw Cara smiling naughtily yet with innocence.

“Baby, you are forgetting SOMETHING,” Cara encircled her arms around his neck and leaned in. Jon could then smell her strawberry shampoo, the soft scent of her enchanting perfume and within seconds he tasted her lip gloss. The feeling was too intense that he couldn’t make out the flavor of the lip gloss but all he could describe was that he wanted to taste the same lips for life time. Within seconds, Jon was driving to her home drunk in love.

Cara double crossed her fingers and gently inserted the key in the door knob and tried her best to not break the silence of the night. She recited a hymn she had learnt as a child in the church for self protection. As soon as she entered the hallway, the house was immersed in dark and without daring to turn on any light she headed upstairs but suddenly she was caught by the glow of a bright yellow light.

“Dad!” cried Cara trying to explain everything through the utter surprise.

“Yes Madam, what is the excuse for tonight?” the slurring words confirmed Cara that he had been drinking since a while or so.

“Dad, we will talk in the morning. You won’t understand anything right now.” Cara explained without hesitation. Instantaneously she saw her dad dashing to her while she stood firm in her place trying to bury her feet underneath the concrete floor. Her dad grabbed her by hair and banged her head against the wall.

“How dare you call me a drunkard?” he screams on the top of his voice scaring Cara to death. She is shivering from head to toe while her words stuttered and before she was able to utter a single word, she had been pushed by her father on the stair case whereas he left to prepare another drink for the night.

Cara’s father, Mr. Laurengram was a rich French business man who had married a Russian woman (Cara’s mother – Fiona Taylor) who died after delivering her first and last baby on the operation table. He was a caring father but what made him worse at times was his excessive consumption of alcohol and incredible possessiveness for his daughter. Mr. Laurengram never married again for he loved his first wife profoundly.  Apparently he loved Cara also but he had blamed her repeatedly at every stage of her life as he believed that the young girl was the murderer of his beloved wife and even after 19 years, he had not been able to get over the grief of his dead wife and continued accusing Cara for the great loss.

The quiet sobs under drifting breath,
Life is a curse – a wish for death.

Cara laid there on the stair case sobbing and wiping off the flowing tears. She could taste blood in her mouth but it was not a new story for her; she was well-aware of the consequences regarding the drunken man she lived with. She gathered all the energy needed to walk to her bedroom but she failed miserably. She knew that her physical strength might deceive her at times but emotionally she was as tough for a competition.