THE UNTOLD

By Panchami

In "The Untold," we meet Kshetra, a woman in her late 40s, and Akhil, a young man in his early 20s. They come from different backgrounds, but fate brings them together in a special way. One day, amidst the monsoon, Akhil takes a picture of Kshetra, and the camera fla

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Rose Publishers
• Release date: Apr 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9789358192698

Book preview

Prologue

This story is different from the technology-driven life we live today. It takes us back to an earlier time, the 1980s, and revolves around a young girl named Kshetra and her romantic experiences.

It is a deep and intense love story, reminiscent of Devdas, that explores how love shapes the destinies of the characters involved.

Some readers may perceive this story as fiction and wonder if such events could truly occur in real life. Let me assure you, it does happen, and it has happened.

This is a true story.

It doesn’t belong to me or to you, but it remains an untold tale of someone unspoken.

A dispatch to my readers

Dear readers,

It has forever been my cherished dream to present myself with a book on my special day, a book that springs from the depths of my own creativity. As I step into the month of my birthday, eagerly awaiting the shift from 27 to embracing the arrival of my 28th year, I find myself overwhelmed with emotions.

I wish to extend my heartfelt gratitude to each and every one of you who have willingly embarked on this heartfelt journey alongside me, tracing the intimate narratives woven within the pages of The Untold.

I am deeply grateful for your genuine interest in my writing journey. Your unwavering encouragement means the world to me as I explore the vast world of literature. From the bottom of my heart, I want to express my sincere appreciation for being a vital part of this treasured gift I offer myself.

Before you embark on this story and immerse yourself in its pages, I feel it's essential to share a heartfelt disclaimer. As I sit here on my balcony, enveloped by my paintings and savouring a cup of coffee, let me clarify that this story was penned almost nine years ago, during the twilight of my teenage years. Thus, I view this as my 19-year-old self-gifting this to the version of me who has journeyed nearly nine years forward and is about to embrace a new year.

As I read my book The Untold, I can see how I was back when I was younger. I remember the thoughts and feelings I had as a teenager, the dreams I had, and the times when I felt miserable. I want to give advice to my younger self that life goes by quickly, so it's important to enjoy it and have fun. Listen to your heart and do what makes you happy. It's okay to not be perfect and to make mistakes because that's how we learn. Now, as I turn 28, I have a special love for my younger self.

I nearly forgot about this manuscript I wrote years ago. Life has become so busy, busier than ever. But recently, while organizing my wardrobe, I rediscovered this manuscript. I couldn’t resist the temptation to read it again. As I immersed myself in the pages, a swell of pride washed over me, realizing how beautifully I had captured my thoughts and emotions at such a tender age. Every line I read moved me deeply. Looking back, I felt silly for not sharing this story back then, that I had written when I was younger with the world.

After careful consideration, I concluded that the time had come to publish this book. I recognized that I could no longer prolong the process. I couldn’t bear the thought of my younger self's efforts go in vain. It served as a reminder of her dedication and creativity. Thus, I took the decision to share it with the world, hoping it would resonate with others, just as it had with me.

As you read this book, I want you to imagine immersing yourself in the thoughts and experiences of a 19-year-old girl, viewing the world through her limited yet sincere perspective. As I sit here and write this heartfelt confession, a mix of excitement and nostalgia fills my heart. The Untold has been a part of my life since I was nineteen, and finally sharing it with you feels like a dream coming true.

The process of creating this book remains one of the proudest moments of my life. I can still vividly recall the last lines I wrote back then and the overwhelming sense of satisfaction that washed over me as I concluded the story.

Although I’m not typically drawn to cheesy fiction these days, this story holds a special place in my heart. I penned it during a period of intense emotions and self-discovery, as a teenager trying to make sense of the world. Now, reflecting on it after these many years, I can see how much I have grown and evolved since those early days.

I wanted to dedicate this book to all those who are currently experiencing the rollercoaster of teenage emotions, when love feels all-consuming and the world feels both magical and daunting. But in truth, this book is for anyone who has ever experienced the highs and lows of love or the pain of losing someone dear and embarking on the journey of healing.

Thank you once again for joining me on this emotional journey. I sincerely hope that The Untold touches your heart and lingers in your thoughts long after you have finished the final page.

Sincerely,

Panchami

CHAPTER 1

Visit to the Temple

In Kerala's Calicut, there is a peaceful temple hidden away from the noise and busyness of the world. When I entered, I immediately felt calm and peaceful. The air had a gentle sandalwood scent that soothed my senses and promised tranquillity. Unlike crowded temples with many people, this one had a special charm. There were only a few individuals there, showing their respect quietly and blending in with the peaceful atmosphere.

Inside, the walls were adorned with beautiful carvings and delicate artwork that captured the sacred essence. Golden details brought the goddess figures to life, as if they were watching over the temple. The wooden structures added a natural touch, blending the beauty of nature with the sacred craftsmanship. As I explored further, I discovered new wonders at every step.

Sunlight came through colourful glass windows, creating patterns on the floor and painting a mesmerizing display of colours. The soft glow added an enchanting touch to this already magical place. It was a testament to Kerala's rich culture and artistic heritage, where every detail held significance and celebrated the beauty of life. Inside the temple, time seemed to stop. The outside world disappeared, replaced by a quiet and reflective sanctuary. The soft footsteps and whispered prayers blended together, creating a soothing melody that touched me deeply. It was a place to escape the fast pace of life, find comfort, and rediscover the joy of simply being.

As I think about Kerala's allure, with its coconut trees and vibrant traditions, I am drawn to the essence of this temple. It embodied the spirit of Kerala's cultural tapestry, where art, nature, and spirituality harmoniously come together. The tall and graceful coconut trees symbolized the abundance and resilience of this land. Like the temple, they represented the harmony between humans and nature, creating a profound connection that transcends time.

As I found solace within the peaceful temple, a realization struck me. I found myself growing closer to God when I realized how close I had come to losing my faith. It was meant to be my final visit to the temple. My skin had aged, becoming wrinkled and worn, mirroring the weariness within my soul. I saw no purpose in my existence, and the desire to continue living completely escaped me. My life seemed utterly meaningless, filled with nothing but imperfections. My desires, wishes, hopes, my very essence, and the love within me… all seemed to have faded away.

In that moment, a sudden and unexpected flash of light from a camera blinded me momentarily. I managed to catch a glimpse of its source. A gentle voice reached my ears, Sorry, aunty. I didn’t mean to.

That's quite alright, dear, I replied, though deep down, I suspected the young boy had intentionally taken my picture. Nonetheless, his actions perplexed me.

Hi, my name is Akhil Singh, he introduced himself.

A warm smile adorned my face, but I remained silent, allowing him to continue.

Akhil was a plump young boy, carrying a heavily laden backpack on his shoulders. His hair, bristly and curly, reminded me of tiny worms wriggling on his small, round head. His eyes, as dark as the night sky, were alert and full of life. His complexion bore the richness of a deep tan, and yet his lips held a peculiar shade—an indescribable mix of orange and peach that did not quite complement his skin tone.

I heard a lot about this place and just had to capture its true essence, he paused, his eyes gleaming with excitement. I really love photography, it's my second passion.

Alright, dear. It was nice to meet you, I said politely as I began to walk away. However, much to my surprise, the young boy followed me, his eyes filled with curiosity as they darted back and forth between me and the temple.

Feeling somewhat uninterested in engaging in conversation or getting to know him further, I casually remarked, Flashes always manage to make me look ugly, so please remember to delete my picture.

Akhil looked surprised and embarrassed by my reaction. It seemed like he never thought I knew he took my picture on purpose. To make him feel better, I reassured him not to worry and then asked him a question, Why is it that I look ugly when the flash is on?

He grinned mischievously and replied, Perhaps it reveals the true you.

Even though he meant it as a playful joke, his words made me pause and think for a moment. Seeing that I was taking it seriously, he playfully winked at me, making the atmosphere more light-hearted.

There's a mystical place within this well-preserved temple, I continued. For centuries, it has been believed that whatever one passionately desire will eventually manifest into reality. It may take time, but one day, a knock on your door will put an end to your waiting. And so, I have come here today to solemnly renew a wish I made twenty-eight years ago.

I inhaled deeply, savouring the pleasant aroma of raw sandalwood that filled the air. Sensing his impending question, I quickly interrupted and said, I should be on my way now.

He halted me in my tracks, a look of disappointment on his face. But you see, I was just about to ask you something, he pleaded. Glancing at my watch, I replied courteously, I understand, but it's time for me to leave.

Akhil seemed to accept my decision, his disappointment transforming into a warm smile. As I turned to resume my path, I caught a glimpse of his friendly wave, a gesture that filled my heart with a sense of unexpected connection. Despite our brief encounter, there was something intriguing about this young boy, something that lingered in the air as I walked away from the temple.

It was a rainy day in the middle of June. During the monsoon season, Calicut becomes even more enchanting. The raindrops add an extra touch of beauty to the surroundings, creating a serene and soothing atmosphere. It is a perfect time to indulge in the simple pleasures of life, like savouring a cup of black tea infused with a hint of cinnamon, and enjoying some fried lentil fritters (Parip Vada) while staying comfortably at home, watching the rain gracefully fall.

It makes me sad to see students from school and college standing in the rain. In those times, I can’t help but feel a little low. I think it's better for everyone to stay inside their cozy homes during the monsoon. It is best to seek the warmth of our homes, surrounded by loved ones, engaging in heartfelt conversations.

There is a certain joy in sharing laughter and stories with family members while raindrops tap against the windows. It is during these chilly rainy days that we can find solace and comfort within the walls of our home. The cozy ambiance, the aroma of freshly brewed tea, and the delightful taste of crispy snacks create an atmosphere of pure bliss.

As we sip our Cinnamon flavoured black tea and relish the delectable fried lentil fritters, we can appreciate the beauty of the rain and the intimate moments spent with our loved ones. It is a time for bonding, for sharing thoughts and dreams, and for creating cherished memories that will forever warm our hearts.

With torrents of rain pouring down from the sky. Seeking shelter from the downpour, I found solace at a small tea stall situated near the temple. The stall had been serving its delightful cinnamon tea for the past decade, earning a reputation for its mouth-watering taste. Even though it was raining outside, I could clearly hear one of the staffs pouring tea back and forth between two cups in a smooth motion. It created bubbles and froth, which amazed me. I always wondered if the tea would drip if stretched for too long. This skill is admirable, and it actually enhances the taste of the tea. The longer it is pulled, the better it tastes.

When I was young, mom used to say that, during the monsoon season, our hunger tends to increase beyond our usual meal times. May be that’s why, as I stood there, my stomach grumbling with hunger, I gazed at the array of snacks displayed before me, pondering over what to order while I awaited my much-needed cup of tea. I scanned the options, hoping to find parip vadas, but to my disappointment, it was nowhere to be found. The tantalizing aroma of cinnamon filled the air, bringing back memories from my past and making me lost in thought.

Deep in my thoughts, I suddenly heard a familiar voice, a bit greasy-sounding, coming from behind me. One samosa, the voice said, and I looked around to see the boy standing there, his eyes focused on the empty seat beside me.

Perplexed by his sudden appearance, I couldn’t help but wonder, What's with this young one? Is he here to flirt with me? I’m 48, and he looks hardly half my age.

Without waiting for my permission, he pulled out a chair and confidently took a seat beside me. Initially, I chose to ignore his presence and focused on savouring my steaming cup of tea. It was hot, so I gently blew on it to cool it down before taking a sip.

Breaking the silence, the boy began, his curiosity evident in his voice, This tea has such an unusual aroma.

I replied matter-of-factly, It's infused with a hint of cinnamon flavour. As soon as those words left my lips, he wasted no time in ordering a cup for himself.

I couldn’t help but express my surprise, Why did you order the same tea?

He responded with enthusiasm, Why not? I find it special, and the scent is simply divine!

Then, almost speaking to himself in an impatient manner, he murmured, That mild scent of cinnamon…

I found myself at a loss for words, utterly puzzled by the boy's eccentric behaviour.

I was surprised when he unexpectedly offered me his partially eaten samosa. I politely said no and thanked him for his generosity, but declined his offer. I replied, No, thank you.

He persisted, insisting, Just one bite. I shook my head, my patience waning. No, that's fine, I responded curtly, no longer concerned with maintaining politeness.

Refusing to give up, he extended the samosa towards me, his persistence unwavering. I stared at him, a mix of surprise and disbelief etched across my face. Sensing my resistance, he finally relented. It was then that his long-awaited cup of tea arrived, drawing his attention away from our brief exchange.

Though I had rejected his samosa, I couldn’t help but be curious about his thoughts on the cinnamon tea. Sneaking a quick glance, I observed him taking a sip. To my surprise, he expressed his delight, exclaiming, By the way, this tea tastes terribly good. It is so refreshing! I was so frustrated; I couldn’t capture any idyllic pictures until I met you here.

I suddenly understood that he had purposely taken my picture before, and my doubts about his intentions were proven right—he was actually trying to flirt with me. It hurt to realize this, confirming my initial doubt.

Listen, are you here to flirt with me? I confronted him, not mincing my words. With this withered lady?

He looked extremely surprised and confused, as if he couldn’t understand what was happening. The word flirt had evidently caught him off guard, as he had not anticipated such directness from me. Confusion clouded his expression as he attempted to find his footing in the conversation. Now why are you looking at me like that? I pressed further, my eyes fixed on him while I took a sip of my tea, determined not to look away.

His voice filled with genuine confusion, he stammered, Sorry? Clearly taken aback, he struggled to grasp the situation at hand.

‘Sorry’? What ‘sorry’? I retorted, my frustration seeping through my words. You are flirting with me. Someone who has already reached the last phase of her life!

The air between us grew heavy with tension as the weight of my words hung in the air, leaving us both momentarily speechless.

No! No! I’m sorry, but no, he hurriedly interjected, his voice filled with genuine remorse. How can I? You’re like my aunt. You closely resemble my grandmother.

I was taken aback by his sudden apologetic response, struggling to understand the shift in his behaviour. What? Your grandmother? I questioned, my tone filled with confusion and a hint of offense. How can you speak to me in such a manner? Do I appear so worn out to you? Forty-eight is merely a number to me. While I may seem weary to your eyes, my mind is still youthful and vibrant. I am capable of achieving anything—perhaps even before you realize it’s possible. I can forge my own path, and yet, you view me as nothing more than your dear, doting grandmother?

In my frustration, I lashed out at him without considering the presence of others in the bustling tea stall. Unexpectedly, another camera flash blinded me, leaving no room for doubt. He had taken yet another picture of me, this time making no attempt to hide his actions.

He checked the photo he had captured and remarked, Your eyes are remarkably captivating, even at this age. I mean, sorry, even at this number forty-eight. His words hung in the air while I looked at him, puzzled by his direct observations.

He looked at the picture again, his innocent eyes looking at it carefully. Your eyes are shiny and captivating, but they also make me feel uncomfortable. So, please, don’t stare at me like that.

He handed me his camera to check the photo, and as I examined it, I couldn’t help but notice its authenticity. He was right— there was indeed a certain intensity in my eyes, a combination of charm and a touch of something mysterious. The way he spoke, his innocence shining through, managed to make me smile.

Even your smile, aunty! he added, his enthusiasm unbridled.

Enough with the flattery, I retorted, my tone playfully teasing. Focus on your tea, Mr. Cameraman.

Driven by curiosity, I couldn’t resist asking him where he hailed from. To my surprise, he started telling me the complete story of his life without holding back any details. I had merely intended to inquire about his place of origin, but he willingly shared his entire life story with me, as if he felt a strong urge to reveal every single detail.

He told me he was from a nearby place and had set out on a mission to take pictures for a project called ‘Temples and Monuments’. It was clear that he had carefully studied this specific temple. He had a master's degree in photography and worked at a private studio, with dreams of becoming a cinematographer. He also mentioned that he taught photography part-time. He shared all this information with me quickly, leaving me momentarily surprised. Then, he playfully tapped his forehead with his finger, as if remembering something important, and casually said that he was born and raised in Delhi.

What? Delhi? That's not 'a nearby place, I retorted, my surprise evident.

A gentle smile curved his lips in response, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

Wanting to understand his true intentions, I asked him more questions. Did you come here just to take pictures? I spoke with a hint of suspicion, hoping to uncover any hidden motives.

His brows furrowed, a flicker of confusion clouding his expression. He failed to grasp the underlying meaning of my question.

Clarifying my intentions, I continued with a warm smile, Are you here just to click pictures, or is there someone special you’re longing to meet as well? I hoped to establish a connection, bridging the gap between us.

Perplexed by my inquiry, he questioned, Why do you ask me that?

Because I sensed it, I replied, a knowing gleam in my eyes. I am wise enough to understand that when young men like you travel such distances, it's usually not just for a project. I said as I took a sip of my tea.

In response, he winked mischievously, confirming my suspicions with a single word, Yes!

I couldn’t tell if he was naturally open or if he simply felt comfortable with me, but he responded with an honest yes. He shared that he had come to Kerala to visit his girlfriend, whom he lovingly referred to as his better half. As he had a slight, subtle smile on his face while scrolling through the pictures, supposedly his girlfriend’s, appearing somewhat distracted, he softly muttered these words.

Trying to change the topic, I asked him about his plans to return, hoping to move away from personal discussions. However, he seemed determined to share his story and turned the tables by asking about my intentions. With an uncomfortable look, he inquired if I, like him, had also come to meet someone special.

Pushing aside any hint of personal curiosity, I repeated my initial question, focusing on the topic of his return.

Hmm, about my return? I haven’t made a decision yet. I actually left home about four months ago. Since then, I've been on the move, exploring different places, capturing moments through my lens. My ambitious project is only halfway complete, and there's still so much left to capture, he paused, taking a deep breath. We’ll see how it unfolds.

His words didn’t spark my curiosity about his photos or his project focused on monuments. Honestly, I was more interested in something completely different, unrelated to pictures of landmarks. But I chose not to show my lack of interest and instead continued my effort to discover more about him.

I asked him in a gentle manner, "Why