Born Under A Lucky Star

By Vishal D

How important a dream is to you?
Important enough for you to take an unexpected journey for it?
This is a story of Vivan Kashyap, a boy with a dream, who is sent on a surprising journey of life when he is tossed out of his own house, as a result of a mistake committed by him. However, following a dream isn't a mistake. His purported perfect life turns upside down in no time, shattering his only dream.
And then begins the series of Nightmares, which haunts him. They give him sleepless nights. However, there is a nightmare, which occurs a couple of times. And, even though dreams are forgotten when awaked, this particular nightmare is remembered perfectly clear by him.
While leaving with a broken dream and nightmares, Vivan gets attracted to Poonam. He finds that it isn't just love, which draws him towards her. Whereas it is a connection, a deep long-forgotten connection, which ties them together.
Born Under A Lucky Star is a story about love, friendship, dream, and parent-children relationship.
This is a journey of Vivan Kashyap. A journey where he finds that he isn't the only star-crossed. A journey to find what is lost. A journey to walk blindly on God's path. And, a journey towards Hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Jan 3, 2020

Vishal D

Vishal D. was born on 27th May 1993 and has completed his MBA in Marketing from Mumbai University. He now works in a prominent Real Estate company.While pursuing his MBA, Vishal came up with an idea which transformed into a concept and concept finally into a story. And then a story into his dream. He believes idea doesnot generate from random thoughts. Whereas it is born from thoughts which we see in society and the things we want to change for good.Vishal is very passionate about history, mythology, suspense, and psychology. He likes to find the true meaning of life and its beauty from religions. He lives in Mumbai withhis family.

Book preview

Garden

‘Get out,’ she shouted at the top of her voice.

I stood flabbergasted at my put. I never thought she would be saying this to me. Does she mean what she uttered, or is it her anger talking? I wished I knew the answer.

She yelled once more, ‘Didn’t you listen to me? I said, get out of my house right now.’

No, she wasn’t joking, not this time. I do admit I had committed a mistake, but that shouldn’t have been the reason to toss me out of the house. Therefore, to defend myself, I hollered, ‘I will not leave this is my house too.’

Her anger raged. It was unmistakable on her face and eyes. Controlling it, she silently passed into my room, which was adjoining to her and came out a minute later with a bag-pack filled with my dress. It was the same sack which she gifted me a month before on my birthday. She tossed the bag out of the house as the main entrance was open.

She talked once more in a moo but in a firm tone, ‘Leave… now,’ she continued, pointing her finger towards the door, ‘if you do not leave in good order, then I have to call the cops. You did a lot today, and you do not deserve to stay in this house.’

Now, this was something I didn’t anticipate to listen. I didn’t have to talk so much, I cursed myself. I spoke, supporting myself, ‘How can you be doing this to me? I do accept I made a mistake, but that doesn’t imply you should call the cops.’ I proceeded with pleading eyes, ‘And, you’re dropping me because I spoke the truth, I poured my heart out. Is this the reason you’re abandoning me?’

‘I don’t know anything, now leave,’ was her only reply. Having no leniency on me, she began pushing me towards the door.

‘But…’ I attempted to talk. I was being dragged out of my own house. The only question was, Why? Only because I expressed the truth. ‘Please… please… no… Don’t do this to me,’ I begged.

She had already made her mind. She was not going to entertain me in any way. With all her strength, she kept pushing me towards the main door. ‘You don’t belong here. Go away from this house and never show your face,’ she talked in anger and utilized all of her strength to push me.

I attempted to block her, but that was something inconceivable. After several minutes and some pushes, I found myself out of the house.

She stood before me holding the main door and mouthed, ‘If you ever attempt to come here again, I swear to god I will call the police.’ The way she held the door, it appeared she was prepared to slam it on my face.

‘But where will I live? I have no place,’ I spoke, hoping she overlooks her anger.

However, here reply tore me apart. She said, ‘I don’t care, go wherever you need to. From today, you’re dead to me. I wish you were dead the day you were born.’ She cursed and set about closing the door.

‘But… Mom-’ Before I could complete up my sentence, she slammed the door on my face.

*********

I opened my eyes in fear, and all of a sudden, the bright and hot sun hit my view. It was over two hours I was napping on the pew in the garden. I felt a slender line of sweat beginning from my temples and moving gradually towards my cheeks. That incident, it indeed destroyed me. I pulled myself up and sat on the place with a pounding heart.

I picked my sack, which I used as a cushion while resting. Opening it, I started searching with the hope of finding something to eat as I was feeling hungry. I looked in each compartment of my sack yet found nothing leaving a white envelope. I knew what was in the envelope only I did not desire to recall. Therefore, I ignored it. Then there was a headset, some torn papers, and wrappers. Only it had nothing to eat. I was starving.

When I woke up that morning, I didn’t realize my life was going to take such a U-turn by the afternoon. For a second, my brain went blank, and all of a sudden, it yapped, What next? Which left me alarmed.

Fortunately, I had my cell phone with me, and before dozing, I had called one of my best friends, Sameer. I had narrated the entire issue to him on the call as well as my biggest concern and which was none other than a house.

Sameer calmly listened to my trauma and replied, ‘I’ll do something,’ and hung the call.

Yes, just three words that’s it, and nothing else. Sameer was weird, and possibly that is the reason he was my best bud. And after two hours later the call I saw him entering the garden.

Sameer was tall, six-five, and weigh near two forty pounds. He was from Kerala, and like most of the South-Indians, he also had dark-colored skin and an accent of Keralan. It used to get difficult sometimes to decipher his language.

When I initially met Sameer I believed, he was at most a jerk-asshole wanted to be a contestant on a television show called Roadies. He even went to Pune for audition however was turned down. Sameer had just two concerns in his life: first to be a Roadie and second girls. It was nearly two years, I knew Sameer, and in those two years, he had proposed six girls. However, none of them accepted his proposal, poor guy. But, an idiot asshole.

When Sameer arrived, he was worn out and was loaded with sweat. He came towards me, and sitting beside, he handed a paper that stated the address and phone number of a person named Rahul.

‘Who is Rahul?’ I inquired, gazing at the paper.

‘Umm… is my friend.’

‘Is he a house broker or what?’

‘No, he isn’t.’

‘Then?’ I gave a scrutinizing look. My eyebrows rising an inch.

‘Actually…’ Sameer looked here and there, stealing his eyes. It was as if he was concealing something, and after a little pause, he proceeded, ‘You’ll not leave alone. You’ll live with him.’

‘With him? That’s fine. Does he leave alone?’

Sameer talked something, but he spoke so low that it wasn’t audible.

‘Will you be loud, asshole? I didn’t hear you,’ I said with an irritated tone.

‘Umm… I said,’ this time he was audible, ‘he lives with his family. And you will be living with them.’

‘What?’ I yelled. I was startled, and went along, ‘And what do you mean by family?’

‘Family means… family,’ he said with a creepy grin on his face.

‘Is it accurate to say that you are insane, Sameer?’ I saw him shrugging. I continued, ‘I’m not going to stay with any unknown family. I don’t even know them. And by the way, who the hell are they?’

‘It would be nice if you simply hear me once, Vivan,’ Sameer requested.

‘Okay, I’m wholly yours merely solely for two fucking minutes.’

He nodded and told me that he attempted his best to get me a house. However, it was hard to get one on such short notice. Consequently, having no other choice, he went to Rahul’s house. Rahul was his childhood and a dear friend. When he narrated my episode to him, he immediately called his dad and persuaded him for my remain. Sameer too had a bit of share in convincing Rahul’s dad, as stated to me by him. They made a hard attempt and inevitably succeeded.

Besides, he made me realize that I had no other alternative than taking it. And he was correct because beggars can’t be choosers. Therefore, reluctantly, I chose to go.

My new family was in Vikhroli, which was in the Suburbs of Mumbai. I had never visited there, yet faith, it could take you anywhere I realized then. However, one reason for me accepting was I didn’t have to pay rent. That was the only thing which had brought a grin on my face. Although I needed to pay no rent, I had to pay for food. Yet, it was a good deal, Sameer and I both concurred.

Being curious, I asked, ‘Sameer, who all are in his family?’

‘Rahul… my friend, his parents, and… nobody.’

‘Are you certain only three peoples?’ I asked with doubt. I felt like he was hiding something.

‘Indeed, just three. Wait for a minute, Rahul has a sister named Kaveri. However, she is married now and lives with her husband. That makes just three of them,’ he answered, being confident.

‘Okay, I believe you. So, Sameer, tell me how much I have to pay them now?’ I inquired.

‘For this month, I had paid on behalf of you.’

‘What? Why?’ I was stunned once more.

‘Since I figured you might not have enough money

with you so… I paid,’ he answered casually, and with a smile all over.

I fell quiet, and my lips curved into a grin. Sameer was my true friend. He stood up for me when I needed someone the most. Jay McInerney once said The capacity for friendship is God’s way of apologizing for our families. Today, I felt it so genuine.

‘So, we will see in the following month,’ Sameer stated, breaking the silence. He included, ‘When does our college re-begins?’

‘Yes, in the following month. Only fifteen days to go.’ I forwarded my right hand and added, ‘Okay, buddy, thank you for everything. Now, I believe it’s time to say goodbye.’

He grabbed my hand, and we embraced each other as we invariably get along.

While getting apart, Sameer stated, ‘If you need any more help, never hesitate to give me a call.’

‘I won’t,’ I answered, picked my bag, and the two of us went towards the garden’s exit gate.

Reaching the exit, he took a left turn, as he wanted to get a bus to get home, and I made a right and started walking towards the railway station, or I can say towards my new house and my new family.

New Family

It is a kingly act to assist the fallen. – Mother Teresa

After the travel of one and half-hour, I was standing before the building, which was going to be my new house. The structure was so antiquated that I assumed one little shake of the earthquake would smash the significant structure as if the house of cards.

My new home was on the third level of the four-story construction. I climbed the stairs to the third floor and stood before the house. My pulse begun to speed, sending adrenaline twofold in an amount from my heart to the brain, legs trembled in fear, and my intellect filled with superfluous and undesirable thoughts. Thoughts, which made me anxious and shaky. So, I calmed myself by getting a few deep breaths. I closed my eyes, tossed off my head to thrust aside those thoughts, and rang the doorbell.

While I thought who will open the door, I heard a click sound, and it was open from inside. A boy, nearly of my age or perhaps younger to me, stood at the inverse. He was skinny. However, he held a charming personality. He was taller to me and was so fair that I envisioned he might be showering in milk. He reminded me of Neil Nitin Mukesh, a Bollywood actor. He wore a half-sleeve Tee shirt and a paddle-pusher.

Before I could say anything, he talked, ‘You must be Vivan, Sameer’s friend?’

I nodded and answered, ‘Yes.’

‘Hi, I’m Rahul.’ He introduced himself and forwarded his hand. I sent mine as well, and we took in a handshake. ‘Please come in,’ he said, giving space and letting me within the house.

As soon as I entered the house, I saw a Lord Ganapati carved in Plaster-of-Paris. It was hanging on a wall within the entrance. I stood staring at it when Rahul talked, ‘Vivan, give me your sack. I will keep it in the bedroom.’

I handed my bag over to him and said, ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he answered with a grin and winked. He proceeded, indicating towards the wooden divan, which was to my right, ‘Please, do have a seat.’

I saw at the divan. It was small. Three people could comfortably sit on it, but barely one can sleep. I started strolling towards the couch.

Rahul headed into the bedroom. Before going inside, he yelled, ‘Mom… Sameer’s friend is here.’

I strolled toward the divan and put myself on it. I looked at the house, to my right was a wooden showcase with a Television within the mid. Upwards, within the glass cabinet of the showcase, I saw numerous trophies. Those trophies didn’t contain anyone’s title, only seeing them anybody might easily make out that they were granted for good studies. Maybe Rahul or his elder sister have won those awards, I thought. Next to the wooden grandstand was a computer cabinet with a computer placed on it. The screen of the computer had a Counter-Strike game paused. Other than the computer was a photo frame with a picture of a young woman. Rahul’s elder sister, I took. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, fair and attractive and married.

In front of me was a study table with numerous books piling on each other. I once more looked at the trophy area, and this time, I picked up two more cups, which I missed on the first time. It was from some cricket club, and it bore the title of Rahul.

Admiring the house, I realized that this family is exceptionally devout. They had a lot of pictures of God within the house on each wall and in each corner.

I as well used to believe in god, until this morning. As the bible says, ‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ – Jeremiah 29.11. This suggests, God has plans for me, and my botch was his plan, which as well not to hurt me, but to give me hope and a future. In any case, I wasn’t able to see any hope, nor I was able to see any future. I saw only an end. A dead-end!

Whereas I was busy in my thoughts, a lady came out of the kitchen. She was in her early forties and wore a green saree. She had a glass of water in her hand and a grin on her face. She got near and forwarded the glass towards me. She spoke in alleviating voice, ‘You must have got exhausted in traveling. I imagine you came from New Mumbai, am I right?’

I took the glass and emptied the full in one shot. And answered, ‘Yes,’ while giving over the glass back to her.

‘Did you eat anything? I mean, are you hungry?’

‘No, I’m not hungry. Thanks for asking, Aunty.’ I grinned.

‘Come on, don’t shy. Fell like home, now get fresh, and have lunch,’ she demanded.

‘No, it’s all right, Aunty, I’m not hungry,’ I answered with a fake grin. I was hungry but was feeling awkward to say.

In the meantime, Rahul came out of the bedroom.

Yet Aunty insisted, ‘Don’t be so modest, Vivan, sit down. Rahul, too, had nothing.’ She proceeded eyeing at Rahul and then at me, ‘You both sit down will serve you.’

‘But-’

I was cut in between by Rahul, ‘Come on, it’s fine. I moreover had nothing, will eat together.’

‘Okay, just allow me to get fresh first,’ I said, getting up from my seat. ‘Where is the washroom?’ I inquired Rahul.

He indicated towards the left. It was adjoining to the bedroom. I went inside to get fresh, and when I returned, I saw food being served already. Rahul had already held his seat and was waiting for me. I went and sat close to him on the floor. Aunty began serving me.

‘You will not have food?’ I inquired Aunty.

‘I had,’ she replied with a grin. ‘I don’t hold up for Rahul. He keeps playing some shooting games on his computer. I have got fed up with him. As his vacations begun, only he keeps playing.’

‘By the way, what you are doing, Vivan?’ Rahul asked.

‘Me, umm… I’m doing my graduation in BCA.’ ‘BCA?’ He inquired with a vacuous look.

‘It means, Bachelors of Computer Applications. The same what Sameer is studying. We are classmates.’

‘Okay, so, you are a computer geek,’ he said with a sly grin.

I chuckled, and spoke in a mocking tone, ‘I wish I could say the same.’

Rahul grinned. ‘So, you’ll be traveling from here to New Mumbai. Isn’t it excessively long?’ His face showed genuine care towards me.

‘Umm… I imagine so,’ I answered. And included, ‘But I have vacations going on right now.’

‘And when your college starts?’

‘Fifteenth of the following month, I think. What are you studying, Rahul? I can see numerous science books on your study table,’ I inquired, indicating the study table.

‘Just appeared for my HSC and holding up for my results.’

‘And what after 12th?’

‘Will be doing engineering,’ he answered with a proud grin as if he was going on a war zone.

‘Engineering, it’s pretty cool,’ I said. I continued, ‘So, you’re the scholar?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Those study trophies,’ I said, indicating towards the trophies on the rack, and included, ‘aren’t they yours?’

‘No… no…’ He quickly answered with a grin. ‘They are not mine. They are my elder sister’s.’

The elder sister, the married girl, she must be a serious scholar, I admired. ‘And what about those cricket trophies, isn’t they yours? It appears that you are an amazing player,’ I complimented him.

Hearing my compliment, Rahul went stunned and quickly saw at his Mother with a pleading look as in case he needed her to help me answer. After looking at his Mother, he gave a last look at me and begun eating his lunch quietly. He didn’t indeed bother to respond to my question or thank me for the compliment. I saw him, but he had no expression on his face. He quietly ate his food without looking up.

I gazed him dumb-struck as I was guilty, and for what I didn’t know. Did I ask something which I shouldn’t? But didn’t just I compliment him on his cricket game? So how could that be offending?

*********

After the lunch, Rahul continued his Counter-Strike game on his computer. During the lunch or indeed after that he didn’t talk to me. He overlooked me as if I vanished into thin air.

I was a bit stunned at Rahul’s behavior. I completed my lunch and once more put myself on the divan. I saw Rahul playing Counter-Strike, and he was pro. I believed he was playing on LAN and had the highest latency score. I as well used to play Counter-Strike but was not equally good as Rahul was. He