Are you My Twinflame? ǀ A story of finding true love

By Neha Sharma

Two women, who have everything to boast about in their lives, are in search of themselves. While Nyra is a perfect homemaker and a mother, Kittu has a successful career and a fascinating life.
Are they actually happy? Or, is it just a facade of happiness that they present before the world?
Alcohol is ruining Nyra’s life, while Kittu’s husband Sid’s philandering ways are ruining hers. Who would have known that Sid’s next target would be the timid and vulnerable Nyra. Sid’s entry in Nyra’s life changes the smooth trajectory of both these women’s lives.
Do they ever find the true happiness that they have been craving for?
What was it that kindled the flame of love and desire, lying latent within them since forever?
Only a few lucky ones are able to find their twin flame in their life. Who is the chosen one this time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Srishti Publishers
• Release date: Mar 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9789395192514

Book preview

Are

You my

Twinflame?

NEHA SHARMA

An imprint of

Srishti Publishers & Distributors

Srishti Publishers & Distributors

A unit of AJR Publishing LLP

212A, Peacock Lane

Shahpur Jat, New Delhi – 110 049

[e-mail]

First published in India by

Blue Rose Publishers in 2021

First published by Launchpad,

an imprint of Srishti Publishers & Distributors in 2024

Copyright © Neha Sharma, 2021

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

This is a work of fiction. The characters, places, organisations and events described in this book are either a work of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, places, events, communities or organisations is purely coincidental.

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the Publishers.

Printed and bound in India

From Hell to Heaven;

From a smile emanating from the lips to a smile emanating from the heart;

From a sensuality unexplored and unexposed to a sensuality blossoming and blooming;

From a heart concealed and cocooned to a heart bared and brazen;

From a woman shy and skittish to a woman intrepid and impetuous;

I owe it all to you;

Saying thanks would only minimize the magnitude of gratitude I feel for you;

The unconditional love and delicious desire ingrained within me is all that I can give you.

He had nipped her in the bud. An innocent bud, even before it could blossom into a flower, was subjected to such vile and vicious treatment that its petals withered and crumpled. The result was a half-bloomed flower sans any beauty and fragrance. But then he came along and drenched her in a cascade of love and affection. The flower began to regain its lost glory and grandeur. And what a divine intervention it was, the hidden treasure of talent was unveiled, the dormant faculties activated. Who was he? Her mentor, friend, philosopher and guide? Or was he, her God? But there was this woman somewhere, whose face was smeared in tears because of him. Her God was playing a devil’s role in someone else’s life. What an irony that was. What a cruel entanglement of fates. This consistently burning fire of suppressed anger and frustration flickering within both the females was so identical, it made them a sort of twinfire. Would this twinfire bring them close and heal them of their sufferings, or the path ahead is not so rosy for her. Read on to see if she is salvaged from the cruelties of fate.Is she strong enough to weather all the storms, or will she break down under the immense agonies she is subjected to? The twists and turns that the lives of these two women take and the way their lives get entangled and the final discovery of their respective twin flames will leave the readers mesmerised and enthralled.

Table of Content

1. NYRA: My Alchemist

2. KITTU: My Bumpy Ride

3. SIDDHARTH: The Night

4. KITTU: The Veil

5. NYRA: The Doormat

6. SIDDHARTH: The Outlier

7. KITTU: Love Gone Wrong

8. AKASH: The Illusion

9. NYRA: The Facade

10. SIDDHARTH: The Bad Boy

11. KITTU: His Conquests, My Defeats

12. NYRA: The Words

13. AKASH: The Dark Cloud

14. SIDDHARTH: The Quest Continues

15. NYRA: The Conflict

16. KITTU: The Imperfect Perfection

17. AKASH: The Highs and The Heights

18. SIDDHARTH: The Big Bad Wolf

19. KITTU: The Tornado

20. AKASH: Bouquet Of Beauties

21. ANNA: My Darkly Bright World

22. NYRA: The Consummation

23. SIDDHARTH: The Waning

24. NYRA: The Beginning of The End

25. RUBY: My Flight

26. KITTU: The Architect

27. NYRA: The Obsession

28. AKASH: The Rut

29. RUBY: The Search

30. SIDDHARTH: Once Again

31. CHAITALI: My Trail

32. KITTU: The Intense Transition

33. NYRA: An Abyss of Darkness

34. KITTU: The Ultimate Union

35. NYRA: My Resurrection

36. SID: The Joyride

37. RISHABH: My Recollection

38. AKASH: Life Goes On

39. US: Closing Call

Acknowledgement

1. NYRA

My Alchemist

‘Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the Earth.’

- The Third Beatitude.

If only this proverb manifested itself in my life, I would have inherited at least half, if not the entire Earth. Standing on the seventh-floor balcony of my flat in this wonderful residential society,the Madison Avenue, with my favourite morning cup of ginger tea, wrapped in my warm Kullu shawl, the faint glimpse of the vast expanse of Gurugram city spread before my eyes, led me to this twaddle pondering. A thick blanket of grey fog blended with a sooty smog, arising from the burning of parali in the adjoining states of Punjab and Haryana, had silhouetted the city, as if protecting it from the January chilly winds coming from the adjacent hill stations of Himachal Pradesh and Uttarakhand, due to recent snowfall at these places.

This is my favourite time of the day and place too, where I love to spend a few moments at peace with myself before getting sucked up in the mundane rut of life. Before the bell announcing the arrival of my maid Sunita rings, I steal a few moments for myself to charge myself before getting embroiled in the humdrum of the day.

I am Nyra. I’ve only recently touched the landmark of forty. Standing tall at 5 feet 6 inches, I am a bit on the heavier side. I would not describe myself as fat or obese but rather curvy and voluptuous. Till just a few months back, I was the most trepid and under-confident woman who didn’t find anything worthwhile in myself. Thinking about the reason behind this beautiful change, which has converted me from a lifeless, worthless female to this intrepid female with confidence oozing out of me, always brings a spontaneous smile on my face and a glow from within me.

So, with this newfound self-worth and self-love, I set out to take on the daily chores. I rush to wake up Ruby with a glass of Bourn Vita milk. Ruby is my teenage daughter, studying in class eleventh. Along with that, she has also enrolled in coaching classes for medical entrance. She has got a busy life with lots to do within a stipulated time frame. She is tall and slim, looks like a younger version of me, and is always on the move. She is working hard for a bright and successful future and along with her, I have made her future my priority too. I try to make her life as comfortable as possible while she toils hard. I never wish that she gets to experience even an iota of what I’ve witnessed in my life and so the single point program of my life is tomake her life a perfect life. I agree that how an individual’s life shapes up is not so much in the human domain as within the divine domain but we, on our part,should leave no stone unturned andgive our best. That’s what I was trying to do along with Ruby. I wake her up, hand over her glass of milk and rush back to the kitchen.

The maid has already started preparations for lunch while I get the tea ready for Akash. Akash is my husband, fifty years old, not extraordinary but handsome. He is almost as tall as I am, though a shade darker than me. He has a square face, piercing eyes, a sharp nose, and thin lips. His salt and pepper hair lend a mature-ish hue to his otherwise innocent look. Having a flourishing real estate business, which he had started sixteen years back at the time of our marriage, he has achieved a lot and established himself well in this field in Delhi and NCR. About ten years back, we bought this flat in Gurugram, known as Gurgaon then. The real estate prices have skyrocketed ever since then. Earlier, his office was in Gurugram itself but later as he progressed, he bought a mega office in South Delhi, which has boosted his business a lot. We have settled here permanently ever since, though commuting has become a peril for him.But we like it here only; the society is safe and we have a certain comfort level here, and also because Akash is especially fond of this apartment, it is his dream home, so we never thought of shifting from here. It takes almost twelve hours before he steps back into the home, once he leaves at about 8:30 am. But working for five days only is a big relief for him.He doesn’t work on Saturdays and Sundays as he tries to compensate for the humongous hard work he puts in throughout the week during the weekend. By the time he gets ready, Ruby has already left for her school. His lunch is ready. I make it a point to ensure that he carries all the items, which are the essential ingredients of a typical Indian meal. So, his Tupperware tiffin box contains dal, rice, curd, a dry vegetable, salad and chapatis. His breakfast is ready too. While Sunita cleans the utensils and tidies up the kitchen, he is ready to leave.

Sunita, before resuming the cleaning and mopping of the house, prepares two cups of tea, one for her and one for me. She sits with me, drinks her tea with two Marie biscuits, discusses some gossip from the society, from her family, finishes off and leaves to continue her work. I continue sipping my tea, reading the newspaper and also take a peep into the virtual world of social media that is FB and WhatsApp, a humdrum sort of thing until a few months back. But it is my lifeline now, a source of immense pleasure and excitement. Anyway, after that leisurely break, I too get busy with my household chores. By midday, I am done with all my work and then I spend time either reading, watching TV, shopping or gossiping with my limited circle of friends. Once a month, I have my kitty party with my friends. Other than that, I don’t have a very active social life. I prefer spending time alone.If Ruby has time, she accompanies me to markets and malls.Otherwise, I enjoy my trips alone too.

Ruby comes back by 2 pm.We have our lunch followed by a nap. She has her coaching classes in the evening.After serving her some heavy snacks and coffee, I go to drop her ather classes in my steel grey Eon. It takes me about 45 minutes to go and come back. By the time I come back, Sunita is back for evening cooking. I take special pains to ensure that dinner is scrumptious and nutritious. It is the only time of the day when the three of us get to sit together and discuss our day. I always wish this family bonding time to be perfect, though perfect is a term thatis as elusive as can be.If wishes were horses, beggars would ride but I, on my part, contribute my best to enable the beggars to ride.

In fact, this is what I’ve been doing forthe last sixteen years of my life, taking care of other people’s lives. They’re not really others; they are my people.But I got so lost in being a people pleaser that I forgot that I’ve got a life of my own too. I was so engrossed in my role as a wife and mother that I forgot that there was this Nyra too, who had some expectations from me. I didn’t even know something was missing from my life except one thing, which I knew was missing from my life for sure, love. I knew it, and I had known it for a long time and accepted this bitter truth of my life sanguinely. I had been made to believe that neither did I know how to love nor did I deserve to be loved. Till a few months back I was my own worst enemy. Underestimating and belittling myself had become my second habit. Whatever the factors that had gone into making me this worthless person, but the cancer of self-loathing had spread throughout my inner being. The roots had become malignant and had spread everywhere.

Only a spiritual and pure alchemist would have cured me of this illness, by applying a balm of love and affection. An alchemist, who with his positive and comforting words, would purge my soul of all the vile venom that had been infused within me over the years. Did I find him?

Yes, I did, in the most unexpected way. Now I pity the poor girl that I was. The jump from a timid, trepid, submissive and demure woman to a bold, beautiful, brave and intrepid woman was effortless and smooth, such was the perfection with which this alchemist poured the mojo within me. I had started admiring myself.My simple, unassuming beauty had become my most potent armour. My earlier insouciance towards myself had been replaced by extreme ardour and love for this person named Nyra. The humongous, incomplete life that I was leading was complete now. The surreal feeling of fulfilment had submerged me from inside out, from top to bottom and the consequential cascade of warmth and joy seemed to be oozing out of me consistently. It took forty years of my life to discover my true self and I owe it all to him, my mentor, my mojo, my Alchemist.

2. KITTU

My Bumpy Ride

‘Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.’

- Albert Einstein

I have ensured that I never stop pedalling my bicycle. Though many hindrances appeareden route, I cross them all on my own. I am Kritika but my near and dear ones call me Kittu. I moved into this society, the Madison Avenue, six months back. My seventh-floor flat is opposite this lady’s flat, whose name, I guess, is Nyra. Our main balconies are parallelly opposite to each other and offer a direct panorama of each other’s living rooms if left unveiled. I am unaware of the role Nyra is going to play in my life or vice versa. As of now, she is my neighbour like many others. She is tall and curvy, has shoulder length, slightly wavy black hair. The best features of her oval face, which is wheatish in colour, are her eyes. These large almond shaped, sooty eyes of her seem to have an uncanny attraction hidden deep within them. Her bow shaped lips with a slightly plump lower lip make her look alluring and enticing. Yes, I have noticed her quite attentively but that’s all, I don’t kmow anything else about her or her life or her family.

My husband Siddharth is in the army and on the move, getting transferred every two or three years.I had shifted base here in Gurugram, many years back, to give a stable educational platform to my kids. This flat was gifted to me by my father long ago, but I was staying in my parents’ flat with them in another society in the same sector. My parents didn’t want to shift with my brother, who was also in the Army. It was around this time that I was planning to settle down in Gurugram and so at their behest, I shifted with them and rented out my flat. Now, my brother, Alok, had retired and had come back, so I shifted to my flat.

I am forty-five years old. My friends say that my chubby, dimpled cheeks and rosy thin lips make them assume that the poem with similar lines was written with me in mind. A little on the heavier side, my short height, around 5 feet 3 inches, makes me look a little plump. My eyes are small but sparkling, mynose is sharp, and my lips thin and long.The dimples on my cheeks are my best feature. My hair is a little below my shoulders. I am sporting a layered look nowadays which enhances my high and smooth forehead. The burgundy colour goes well with my wheatish, flawless skin.

I have two sons. My elder son Rishabh is twenty-one years old, born in the second year of my marriage and looks a lot like his father, except for his colour and height. He has a wheatish complexion like me and is not very tall either. Doing his B-tech in Computer Science from Chennai, he is in hisfinal year now. My younger son Sushrut is eighteen and has only recently joined B-Arch in Mumbai after completing his 12th this year itself. He is an exact replica of his father– tall, fair and handsome. After he moved to Mumbai, speculations were rife that I would move in with Sid now but everyone was flabbergasted when I didn’t and rather decided to move on my own in this flat of mine. I didn’t feel the need to explain anything to anyone. My life, My choices.

I had taken a break from my career to concentrate on both my sons’ life. Frankly speaking, both of them were not the kind who would sit down on their own to study; a lot of pestering and pressurizing was required to keep them focussed. With their father absent from the scene, the onus laid on my shoulders to keep a vigil on them, and they, too, acknowledged my efforts. They tried to appease me and keep me happy by putting in sufficient amounts of time and labour in academics, which, in my absence, they would have never done. I don’t regret leaving my career midway to help build a future for my kids. Though still a long way to reach the goal, I played my part well. I never let my bicycle falter and flounder, never dragged my feet for a moment, how much tired or unmotivated I might feel, except once, for a brief period.

‘It’s All About Fun’ was the name of the event management company which I had started with my friend Smriti seven years back. It wasn’t a very popular concept in those days; we had decided to take a plunge in unknown waters. We got a lukewarm response initially. The two years I worked with her, things had started looking up for us but not in the same proportion as we had expected. And then I quit, much to the chagrin of Smriti. I promised her that I would be back soon and she promised that she would wait for that day to arrive soon. Her husband Rohit took over from where I left, and now five years later, they had moved from a small dingy room to a huge, chick office on MG Road and employed a couple of people too. That was where I saw myself now. Smriti was delighted at the idea of my coming back, as much as I was.

The last ten years had changed me enormously. In an effort to cover up for the joys that had been snatched from me, very naturally, I had started seeking those joys artificially. I led an independent life, no bondage, no baggage. I don’t like to get embroiled in the web of thinking whether I liked it that way or circumstances forced me to like it that way. But now I smoked, boozed, partied late into nights, pub crawled, chugged beers, and poured shots. I wore short dresses, off shoulder dresses, high heels. I liked being sassy and jaunty.

All these details about me might lead to raised eyebrows but I don’tgive a heck. I need no validation from anyone, Rather, I pity those who might have an iota of doubt about my character.Drinking, smoking or partying are never the criteria for maligning any female’s character and never could be. I, for one, could be a glaring example of that. I had never compromised on my modesty, in spite of the fact that I had every reason to do so, I was the most sexually starved female, who had had only herself to satisfy herself, since ages.

I had tasted alcohol for the first time only after my marriage. Sid is a habitual drinker and his evenings are incomplete without his Scotch. But he has complete control over himself and has never lost his senses, even if he drinks a bit too much on some occasions. Otherwise, his three pegs are his daily companions. After our marriage, it was Sid who introduced me to both smoking and drinking, stressing the fact that it was a very common thing in his circle and to be a part of that circle, I should adopt that lifestyletoo. And I did. Starting with beer, and wine, I moved to Scotch too. But only in parties and never more than two pegs, never. It was only when the demons of misery and anguish entered my life, thatI tried to drown these demons in a river of alcohol. I lost control of myself and resorted to drinking as an escapade but I found out soon enough that this was not the escape, rather made the demons stronger, and then I took full charge of my bicycle, which had started shaking.

I agree I had faltered for a moment but a look at my kids’ faces made me realize the blunder that I was committing. And that was the moment when I took full charge of my life, of the bicycle which I had to ride. Ever since then, I had never allowed anyone or anything to take control of me. I am my own master and caretaker and I live life on my terms. I drink and party to enjoy and never to escape from the realities. My boys know and trust me.They have never questioned my going out or getting drunk, once in a while. They are grown up enough to know that their mom would always be there for them, no matter what but at the same time, she has a life of her own too and needs to relax and enjoy.

Finances have never been a problem. Sid has taken good care of the family, as far as the finances are concerned. And now that I’ve started working too, I don’t even need his money but still, the earlier arrangement continues. Sid comes on the weekends, not always, but mostly. I rarely go to his place. I don’t feel like it. Before the boys left, my life revolved around them. I did everything according to their schedules. They had become the focal point of my life. Then first Rishabh left and now Sushrut. I was lost, totally lost for a few days. I didn’t know what to do. In fact, I had nothing to do. Though there was a sense of fulfilment too, that I had done my duty to the t, but the accompanying emptiness was also overwhelming. My nest was empty and I had no shoulder to cry on. But again, I took my own support, and then there was this small group of my cronies who always ensured that I never felt lost and lonely, Smriti being one of them.

And so here I am, once again in full control of my life, well adapted and adjusted to a life without kids. In fact, I have a tight schedule now. I leave home by 9 am and come back only by 6 pm. Weekends are mostly spent partying with friends or sleeping and relaxing at home, whether Sid is present or not. I am happy despite lots of things missing from my life, I am happy. Intentionally or unintentionally, this lady Nyra has become a part of my daily schedule. My morning starts at 6 am with a cup of ginger tea, on the swing on my balcony and I always find her there already, having her tea on her balcony. In a way, our mornings start together, with the same ritual and in each other’s presence. The difference is, I am in a hurry, my mornings are all rushed up. I’ve to leave by 9 am, whereas she is a stay-at-home Mom, just like I was until a few months back, and works at her own pace. Evenings are again tied with these unseen bonds, when at around 6 pm, I have my coffee, again on the swing in my balcony and she too is present in hers, with tea or coffee, whatever. I am hoping to get in touch with her someday. I just don’t get the time and there has been no chance of meeting till now. I am curious to meet her and know about her, there is an undisclosed magnetic pull thatseems to be drawing me towards her.

3. SIDDHARTH

The Night

‘Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.’

- Mother Teresa

This is my second visit to Gurugram, ever since Kittu shifted to this society Madison Avenue. It’s a beautiful and well-maintained residential society. Lots of greenery, with the boundary wall covered with creepers and lined by Ashoka trees, a park with lots of swings in the centre of the four residential blocks, protruding like the arms of the park in all four directions.

Circumferencing the four blocks is the wide pavement cobbled with pink cobblestone. There is a reserved basement and covered car parking, so this path is used for walking by the residents without any hassles of cars being parked in and around. Since it was built a little earlier, about a decade back, it lacks facilities like a gym and swimming pool, which is a compulsory feature of all the latest residential societies being built.Otherwise, it is an ideal place to live in, safe and secure.

I was posted to Bhopal from Udhampur about a year back. Being in the forces, this is a regular feature of my life. Married to Kittu for the last twenty-two years, we have spent more time away from one another than together. At themature age of fifty, I still feel age is just a number.Its’s your mindset which matters and mentally I was and will always be young. Women still go weak in the knees when I flash my lopsided smile. I’ve been blessed with unprecedented good looks. Whether a long lineage of exquisite breeding is behind this or a sheer benevolence of destiny is a matter of deep brooding, which I don’t indulge in very often.

Standing tall at six feet, I’ve got a peach and milk complexion. My macho build has led my friends to very often compare me with Clint Eastwood or Harrison Ford. And as much as nature has been bountiful