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Pop A Cap Smith by Mastho Vamsee
Pop A Cap Smith by Mastho Vamsee
Pop A Cap Smith by Mastho Vamsee
Pop A Cap Smith by Mastho Vamsee
Amaira by Mastho
Amaira by Mastho
Limitless You by Mastho
Limitless You by Mastho
Kanchi by Mastho Vamsee
Kanchi by Mastho Vamsee
God Damn It Smith by Mastho Vamsee
God Damn It Smith by Mastho
Pop A Cap Smith by Mastho Vamsee
Pop A Cap Smith by Mastho Vamsee
Pop A Cap Smith by Mastho Vamsee
Pop A Cap Smith by Mastho Vamsee
Amaira by Mastho
Amaira by Mastho
Limitless You by Mastho
Limitless You by Mastho
Kanchi by Mastho Vamsee
Kanchi by Mastho Vamsee
God Damn It Smith by Mastho Vamsee
God Damn It Smith by Mastho

Sneak Peek Into 

Limitless You

The Only Way To Be A

True Millionaire

LIMITLESS YOU

The Only Way To Be A

TRUE MILLIONAIRE

 

A Powerful 4-Step Technique

That They Never Taught You

 

Mastho

 

 

 

A Note from the author:

 

Dear higher soul, respects.

 

This book has been divided into 2 parts.

Book1 has the enchanting story of

The Fragrance Of Manoya

Which was written in a way that would prepare your mind

For that you shall read in the next part.

 

Book2 contains the technique of

LIMITLESS You.

 

Caution:

Read further and

Your life could change forever 

 

 

 

Thank you for choosing to change your life.

 

My gratitude to you for deciding to hold

Limitless You

The Only Way To Be A True Millionaire

in your hands today.

 

This book like some other special ones,

would not have reached you,

if not for such powerful intension of

the Cosmic Intelligence.

 

 

 

Perception is a viewpoint.

 

You have the power to choose a

perception through which

you might want to see the world.

 

Most of the times,

your perceptions are

ones that were simply imposed upon you;

even without your permission…

They exist not because of your choice.

 

Unconscious of this, you owned them up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Book 1

 

The Fragrance Of Manoya

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

On the meadows of Satwanimoh, the setting Sun’s shy rays created strange patterns. Patterns that seemed to travel through Yaji’s eyes into his heart, giving him a tingling sensation inside his chest. Being all of twenty seven, Yaji was exited about this most significant journey of his life…

 

Moving his feet at a leisurely pace on the soft grass, he attempted to locate the source of the strange sensation he has been experiencing for over an hour now. The closer he moved towards the next town, the more heightened this feeling came to be.

 

His backpack began to feel lighter. His feet were moving, but more like, a few inches above the ground… Yaji had been experiencing this the entire evening in varying degrees but it was growing now.

 

Moments later, very slowly, he began to realize that this feeling had its source in his body. It was a cool, icy and very comforting sensation deep in his chest. He started feeling as if he was watching his body floating above the soft grass…

 

He felt that this was a sign.

 

That the distance was growing shorter. 

 

Between him and her!

 

Yaji focused his gaze on the way ahead of him. There was another mile or two that he had to cover before he would be able to reach the next town.

 

       Listening to the soundless sound that his footsteps made on the velvety grass, his thoughts took him away in to a time that sealed his fate forever. He drifted away to Manoya… a girl who made him feel like a boy…

 

       It was in Hindolas, a busy town in the central part of his country, that Yaji spent all of his childhood. His father was into the business of entertainment. Yaji had the good fortune of listening to fantastic tales from different parts of the Earth from his father, he was a big time traveller. Yaji learnt about strange people and their stranger customs.

 

It so happened once, that during summer vacation, Yaji and his little sister Lola were gifted with the chance to accompany their father on one of his tours. The kids were kicked about it.

 

Yaji’s father’s travelling troop comprised of myriad artists of different abilities. One day, Yaji’s father called the troop in for a meeting at the central tent, pitched on the outskirts of Mayaya town.

 

He declared happily that the tickets were all sold out for the day and the troop could make good money if things would be as bright for the rest of the days too. The artists cheered the news and performed with energy, doling out electrifying entertainment for the people of the town called Mayaya.

 

Yaji too, took part in the in the show and performed little magic tricks that he learnt from one of the artists. The magician who taught him was reluctant initially but he agreed to teach a few tricks in exchange for an orange Kashmiri jacket that Yaji gave up gladly.

 

Actually, the jacket was not his to give; it was his sister Lola’s. She had many jackets to wear and so it was worth giving up for the luring prospect of turning into a famous magician!

 

       Yaji’s tricks had received lots of applause that evening. He relished the sounds that people made…the claps and hoots… He swore that one day, he would be a ‘real’ magician and perform magic without any silly trick behind it. And more so, because he saw a hint of pride in his father’s eyes who stood behind the curtains of the stage, watching him.  

 

But, that show was not the only significant happening for Yaji that evening. Something else too began to unfold itself… something that would change Yaji’s life forever.

 

That evening as he was going back to the green rooms after the show when at a distance, he saw a girl in blue. There was pristine excitement in her eyes that beamed so bright that it was visible even at that distance.

 

There was enchantment in her smile. There was innocence in her every gesture. And there was a strange quality in her that Yaji could not name, but it made Yaji’s heart beat faster from the moment his eyes fell upon her.

 

The girl was waiting back-stage for somebody, guessed Yaji, unable to take his eyes off her. He kept walking anyway. But as he neared the area where she stood, to Yaji’s astonishment the girl began walking towards him.

 

Looked like she was actually waiting for him, or was she, wondered Yaji as the girl accosted him almost like in a slow-motion shot in the movies.

 

As Yaji’s heart kept pounding, the most beautiful girl Yaji had ever seen, gave him an animated smile and introduced herself as Manoya.

 

For the next fifteen minutes Manoya tried to describe how much she loved Yaji’s show and how much she admired him. This was a first of its kind experience to Yaji in his life of eight years. Yet, something strange was happening to Yaji as he began talking to her.

 

       No matter how awed he was for all that Manoya was, he felt a pride while talking to her. He observed in surprise that while he spoke to her, he did so like a king talked to his subjects.

 

All that he felt when his gaze first fell upon her was queerly pushed to a corner. And all he felt now was this new ‘higher than thou’ feeling. That evening, Yaji chatted with her for a meager fifteen minutes. But what he took back was something that would stay with him all his life…  the fragrance of Manoya.

 

Her fragrance; it made him feel lighter, as if some kind of psychological mist enveloped him, drawing him blank… making him root into the moment… making him feel as if his heart, his body, his entire energy field were sucked into another dimension… The fragrance of Manoya… this was far greater magic than what he performed on stage.

 

                  The next morning, a man with a white beard, wearing torn blue jeans and a white t-shirt kept watching Yaji from a distance, without Yaji noticing him.

 

At that time, Yaji was watching someone else with rapt attention. He watched Ponstil in his daily practice. Ponstil was an ace archer who performed for the public.

 

Being a star performer in Yaji’s father’s troop, Ponstil’s archery skills were rumored to be the best in the world. Though Yaji loved the idea of being able to shoot arrows at a target, he never felt like approaching Ponstil for it. Ponstil was an angry man and something in him made Yaji very uncomfortable in his presence.

 

Anyway, Ponstil was practicing a new move that morning, where he shot three arrows at once, hitting three targets that were ten feet apart from each other. The bearded man in torn blue jeans and white t-shirt watched Yaji sit engrossed in Ponstil’s practice.

 

       Though the troop performed for another three days in the town of Mayaya, Yaji never saw the girl again.  Strangely, he seemed to have forgotten all about her. Life was too filled with the applause of thrilled audience for him and their gratifying praises for the talented eight-year-old lad.

 

       After they returned from the tour, life had returned to the routine. Though his father was very proud at Yaji’s achievement, Yaji had to face some music for the ‘generous’ giveaway, his sister’s orange Kashmir jacket. His mother had made sure that he would not repeat such an act by making him responsible for cleaning the house for one full month… a punishment that Yaji hated.

 

       Two years have passed by after the incident at Mayaya. Yaji had performed his skill on a few more occasions, after his first stint. But for the strong support of his father, he would not have been able to override the endless objections that his mother had for his performances. Slowly, his interest in being a stage ‘magician’ began to dwindle. “Magic should be true, not tricks,” he thought to himself several times.

 

       Eight months after his tenth birthday, it was summer vacation again. His father had gone on a tour and took with him, just Lola this time. Lola had become a student of dance and she could be of use in a dance act they were to perform, his father told them. Yaji opted to stay back, without much fuss.

 

       One evening, when Yaji was playing the ball all by himself in an open field, he suddenly felt a sensation; it travelled like a flash, up his body and then it disappeared. At that moment, he felt a faint remembrance of something, but what, he forgot the next moment.

 

Yaji stopped dribbling on the ball. He went quite. He let go of the ball and silently he watched on as his heart started beating faster. Yaji lifted his head, his eyes searching aimlessly all around him…

 

At that precise moment, his gaze fell upon a figure that moved from his left to right far off on the road. Then there was a flash; a glimmer in his head… a memory and floating imagery, all which made Yaji feel dizzy.

 

Then he ran, ran like he was possessed, at his best pace until the figure appeared closer now… Twenty paces more and there! Walking all alone, the girl from Mayaya… in blue again.

       Breathless after the crazy sprint, Yaji sat down on the sidewalk, panting. At that moment, the walking girl’s eyes caught Yaji.  Wide eyed, the girl turned to him.  “Magician Yaji!” she said, excitement becoming her. And then the wind conspired with the heart of the world, to bring her fragrance back to Yaji again… He froze, staring into her eyes.

 

       Why do strange things happen? What gigantic energy cooks ‘co-incidents’ into peoples’ lives? Does man reincarnate? Is that the reason for some people getting together in inexplicable situations?

 

       Manoya from Mayaya, had by some invisible plan come to Yaji’s town and started living in the house right next to Yaji’s. Her father had to move from Mayaya town after he had set up his business there. As his new business was here in Mayaya now and he had rented a house that happened to be… well, in the most perfect place for whatever was destined to happen.  

 

       Yaji and Manoya became fast friends. They went to separate schools, but every evening and every holiday, the friends got together. There were six other young boys and girls who all formed a group.

 

Yaji was always up to something. He often came up with new games that involved everybody in the group. They ranged from detective games to singing popular songs. But Yaji’s favorite was the bicycle races the lapses of which covered the town’s hill, the woods and the old abandoned guesthouse. Manoya seemed to hate this particular one but never expressed her feelings… she simply loved the sparkle of thrill in Yaji’s eyes even at the mention of the game.

 

       One evening after school, the little group gathered and decided that that evening would be for racing. Four bicycles were brought in place and teams of two had been made. Of-course, it was Yaji and Manoya on Yaji’s bike.

 

The race began when there was half an hour left for the sunset. Yaji was born to win, or so he always kept telling himself. Manoya was sitting in the front and Yaji started peddling his bicycle hard…

 

Winning was all he knew. The relatively new entrant of the group, Arnaas was taller than Yaji. He was rumored to be stronger than even the famous Yaji. And this made it even more important for Yaji to prove a point that evening.

 

       As the bicycles entered the bumpy and rough terrain of hill area, Manoya struggled to hold on, lest she should fall down and slow the pace of her partner. A few minutes into the race, Yaji’s bike bumped hard on a little rock. Manoya slipped yet held tight to Yaji’s right hand.

 

Manoya’s soft palm squeezed his hand, gripping it hard and tight… and at this very moment Yaji’s focus suddenly shifted to the girl before him. Her hair brushing against his face and chest in the wind, made a subtle rustling noise… The bicycle was sliding uncontrollably down the hill but Yaji was not exactly in a state of mind that would notice the slide or the other contestants overtake him.

 

It was as if Yaji’s energies from all over his body were being pulled towards his chest area that was making contact with the beautiful belle, who was now so very close to him. Manoya was not aware of this, though. She was yelling in excitement, encouraging him to get back to balance and ride back to the track.

 

The touch of her on his hand, the grip of her silky skin rubbing against his body had already got Yaji’s mind go blank. He had no clue, why he was feeling this way. Why does he feel this peculiar sensation inside his body, in his entire energy field when he comes into contact with Manoya. What is she to him? “Who am I? Why are we together? What does this invisible mist that surrounds me, mean?” Yaji had no answers. He only had an unsurpassable euphoria. 

 

       Back on track after a few minutes, Yaji’s bike began coursing through the woods, passing through the abandoned building. None of the other contestants were around. The bicycle was moving in a frantic pace now. Yaji and Manoya were both a single entity now… breathing together, vibrating in sync.

 

 The Sun had set a while ago and darkness had already engulfed the area. Manoya, fell silent… as if she was understanding the storm that was wrecking havoc on her partner behind her. The bike was passing on a path that lead to the end point now.

 

The breath of two souls was resonating with each other. No thought. No emotion. And when the wind blew, rustling through the raven tress of Manoya, it filled Yaji’s breath with her fragrance. For a brief moment that seemed like an eternity, Yaji’s life experienced a feeling that he never experienced before. His heart was now going through the fast paced rhythm that seemed more familiar than not…

 

       Yaji and Manoya finished last as they reached the anxiously waiting friends. Strangely, looking at Arnaas’ winning smirk made Yaji even more dizzy… it was an ecstatic dizziness… First time ever, failure was of no consequence to him!

When Manoya disembarked the bicycle and when her hand got disconnected from his, he felt a sharp stab like feel in his chest…

 

So ended the first un-namable experience for Yaji… Did she experience similar feelings? That, Yaji could not deduce from the strange look in Manoya’s eyes before she left for the day.

 

       After this incident, a year had passed when Yaji and Manoya shared special experiences in most trivial of games… But the strange thing was that, in spite of being absolutely enchanting, these experiences were never a part of their conversations. Both were always silent about them.

 

Meanwhile, Yaji was the same pride-filled self and Manoya had been that same Yaji-adoring girl, submissive and pleasant.

 

And the silence that bonded them continued to deepen. Until he saw her every morning, he would feel a weird emptiness in his heart. They lived in houses that were adjacent to each other and until she made herself seen by him every morning and evening, Manoya could think of only one thing… seeing him.

 

Watering the plants, brushing her hair or running little errands for her mother, Manoya always gave Yaji moments when he could steal a look at her without anybody noticing him do so. Of-course, they did not understand why they should feel this way or why they should see each other and nobody should know they were doing that.

 

       Something that happened after Yaji’s twelfth birthday had changed the pace of hap­penings in the lives of both of them. Manoya wanted to give a special gift to Yaji on his birthday. She asked him what he liked most. Yaji teased her and said that he would not tell her. At the end of the birthday party after all the friends left, Manoya asked Yaji to meet her at town’s prayer hall. 

 

       The doors to the prayer hall were closed, as it was eight in the night already. The gate was open, though. When Manoya entered the enclosure she could not find Yaji anywhere. “Perhaps he had not made it yet,” she thought to herself.

 

Manoya had only five minutes before people at home would discover her absence. “Where was Yaji? Why did he not come?” She asked herself.

 

The orange flowing gown she wore, made of silk was moving in rhythmic waves in the ruthless cold breeze. She sat down on the steps that lead to the prayer hall, waiting for Yaji… her chin was cupped in her palm as she kept looking at the gates.

 

And then, just for a startling effect, Yaji presented himself in a flash before her, with a sudden movement, as if appearing from nowhere. Manoya opened her mouth in shock; her tender lips splitting open in astonishment… Now, Yaji moved close to her… too close to her… their bodies touching each other like never before, Yaji could feel her tender skin and the wetness of her soft lips inches before his face.

 

Manoya’s heart was beating fast, she was breathing heavily. Her eyelids were drooping on their own accord owing to their proximity to each other.

 

“What’s the gift that you wanted, Yaji?” she managed to ask. Her heavy breath matching her heart that kept pounding like jungle percussion. Yaji put his hands around her and pulled her even closer to him in something that was akin to an embrace.

 

She went silent. He went silent.

 

The world around seemed to have disappeared for them. Manoya was going crazy in her head as his lips began touching her left ear, the sound of his breathing sending currents up her spine… As every atom in her body seemed to become one with his, he whispered to her… “Tell me Manoya, what do you want… giving you what you want will be my gift for my birthday”… As her palms caressed his hair…Manoya’s eyes were half closed now, and what she said went on to become the very purpose of Yaji’s life.

 

“In this life, one day, at least for one moment,” said Manoya, “I want to be your wife, Yaji.”

 

And then, her lips locked with his in the first ever kiss of their lives.

 

       After that night, for the rest of the eight months, until the next summer vacation, they met each other everyday, in places where they had ample solitude. Yaji’s life had become consumed with a feeling that’s called Manoya. He became intoxicated by her thoughts and the expectation of each impending meeting with her every day. He wrote her name in his books, again and again.

 

For Manoya, Yaji was her breath, his fragrance was as if in every inch of her body… She dreamed of him, she talked of him… and all she wanted was being with him. The prayer hall’s steps have become their temple… where they experienced the language of silence, holding each other… In these moments, time stood still for them.

 

They held hands, they embraced and closed their eyes feeling each other, as moments fleeted bestowing inexplicable peace to both the souls like this was all they need. Whenever his lips touched her lips, Manoya felt like a thousand volts of current shot up her spine and she was being pulled out of her body…

 

The tender lips, when they locked, she felt as if she was sucked into a limitless cosmos full of bright yet soothing stars. Floating thorough them was an amazing experience for her. They wanted nothing more in this world when they were with each other in those pristine moments of all encompassing love.

 

       One day, Manoya visited Yaji’s home. The neighbors were already good friends and such a visit was not rare. But that particular visit, turned out to be singular.

 

That day, entering Yaji’s house, Manoya said, “We are leaving”.  Yaji and his mother were playing chess. They looked up in unison, not able to comprehend what she meant. “Dad’s business has gotten into rough weather, it seems. We are closing down the businesses here in Hindolas. Seems that we’d go to another place, but I do not know where.”

 

       It was the last day Yaji and Manoya were meeting. At the prayer hall the silence between them was deeper than ever. In the dark, Yaji’s eyes were shining with the stars’ light bouncing off the surface of his tears.  Manoya was sitting on the steps and Yaji was at her feet. He had Manoya’s tender left foot in his hand. He kissed the fingers on her feet and rubbed his cheeks on them, feeling the texture of her naked foot.

 

       In Yaji’s heart, there was a very new feeling. The proud feeling that always troubled him, seemed to have disappeared now. For him, Manoya was his Goddess. He was a servant, a slave… he was nothing, he felt. He was filled with so much contentment in his heart that the happy oneness was bringing tears of gratitude.

 

This moment was everything, he felt; she was everything to him. The greatest exalted states that a human existence could experience, she had gifted them to him. What can he do to repay her? Yaji felt he would not mind dying at this moment, because life cannot perhaps be better than this.

 

He was in a psychedelic intoxication… as if in a delirium… he was taking her name again and again… “Manoya,” as it gave him a deeper feeling of oneness with her and with the existence around every time he repeated it.

 

       Manoya, bent forward and lifted his chin up. She looked into his eyes. He looked into her’s… the same eyes that intoxicated his heart with a bliss called love on the first day after the stage performance in Mayaya. He stared as if hypnotized at her beautiful hair, her tender face, her exited expression…

 

“Will you keep your word Yaji?” she asked, “Will you let me give myself to you as a present? For at-least a day or a moment in this life, will you let me be your wife?”

 

       When Yaji woke up the next morning, he rushed to the neighbors’ house. It was empty. They had apparently given no address.

 

As he turned back, a gust of wind blew from behind him, from the direction of the house where his beloved once breathed. The wind brought the fragrance of Manoya… the mist, the intoxication, the exalted state of life with it, but for the last time… Yet, the heart would not beat fast this time, for, Manoya was gone…

 

       Yaji, as he stood frozen, saw a strange man in white beard, torn blue jeans and t-shirt watch him keenly, from a distance. 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Eight years have passed since Manoya left. Yaji has now grown into a handsome young man. His lover boy image was really uncalled for, at college. For, how much ever girls fell head over heels for his attractive persona and persuasive oratory skills, he had never really been in any relation.

 

The envying brains behind the envying eyes of dudes of his college thought he did not even have to make an effort when it came to girls; this was not a false notion, anyway. And yet, he never found anyone who triggered the right chemicals inside him…. not that he remembered or missed Manoya. 

 

She was only a distant dream now. Like one that had disappeared after you wake up. In fact, his conscious mind forgot all about her, perhaps because he was struck with immense anger at that time that she had left him. 

 

       It happened in the final year of his education in the town of Lenisma, which was about fifty miles from Hindolas, that the notorious Demon Roses indulged themselves in a huge scam.

 

Six girls who called themselves the Demon Roses, organized a huge inter-university fest at the educational institution that Yaji was part of. Some of the girls of Demon Roses had connections and so they had collected huge sums for the fest, from sponsors in the city. They were organizing a grand fest but planned to embezzle a good chunk of the collected dough.

 

       Yaji was participating in a nighttime horse race organized as part of the fest. It was Yaji’s wave all over the fest and girls were secretly competing to partner with Yaji in the race. Demon Roses, being themselves, ruthless and arrogant, warned Yaji to take one of them as his partner.

 

Surprisingly, in-spite of being the proud type, Yaji selected Tara, one of the Demon Roses as his partner. As the race began, Yaji’s deliberately started off a few seconds late, giving the other contestants a head start. The contestants were to race through the dangerous terrain of woods that were rumored to house some deadly wildlife. As Yaji’s horse dashed into the woods, taking the narrow walkway barely visible in the dreary shadows of gigantic trees in the full moon light, the rest of the horse riders were far ahead and out of sight.

 

Tara tightened her grip and pressed hard, her proud and rather stiff worked-out body against Yaji’s back. A few minutes passed by as she began to breath hot and sultry sighs down his neck.

 

The horse galloped wildly on the rough jungle terrain, giving Tara’s intensions the needed rhythm. Closing her eyes, she held him tight, hugging him hard to herself from behind.

 

Moments passed, when she slowly realized that the horse was not moving anymore. Tara opened her eyes and a short gasp left her lips the moment she saw what she saw before her.

 

Two glittering eyes, wild and cruel were staring unblinking at them. She saw that Yaji had to halt the horse as the wild beast stood right in their path. The tiger, like in the poem, was burning bright. It was the presence of an endangered animal that endangered the couple’s existence in the perilous night of the darkest woods.

 

The night was silent. The light was dim. The only sound was the low warning growls of the majestic animal that kept staring at them. Tara tightened her grip on Yaji’s shoulder, her nails digging into the skin beneath his jacket. “Yaji,” Tara whispered, her eyes widening in horror.

 

       At this precise moment, Yaji set things into motion. In a swift, skillful movement, he turned back, slid his hand around Tara’s slender waist and with a lightening movement, slid her to the front placing her before him on the horse. Tara lifted her right leg without her knowledge to accommodate the move.

 

And before she realized it, Tara was sitting right in front of Yaji; her legs spread wide, Yaji in between them… And tiger was now right behind her back. Unable to calm her agitated mind, Tara’s feelings turned from horror to rage at what Yaji just did. But frightened at the beast’s presence, she held herself from hurling curses at Yaji.

 

Yaji was silent.

 

When danger strikes, fear generates negative vibrations that disturb harmony and attracts maliciousness that thrives on fearful vibes… When danger strikes, watch… Watch the breath, watch the heartbeat, watch the body from inside, let silence be born, and then… Then act like lightning through the stillness of your inner silence… His father once told him this, on a trekking expedition they were in together.

 

The sudden movement agitated the tiger and it ran forward. Listening to the sound of the approaching beast’s footsteps, Tara began screaming unable to take the stress. The screams only agitated the beast further and growled ferociously pacing towards them. Tara froze in horror, as was the horse. Yaji turned the frightened horse to his right and went full throttle riding through the roughest of terrains that lay ahead.

 

The tiger was swift. Its chasing footsteps being heard too closely, making menacing noises on dry leaves in the still night air of the wilderness… Yaji maneuvered the horse to cut another sharp right turn on instinct. Tara embraced Yaji tightly and began sobbing, burying her face in his chest.

 

Yaji was in no responsive mood. His focus was entirely on the path that lay ahead of them. As minutes with unbearable tension rolled by, the distance between the tiger and the couple began to increase…

 

Finally, the horse came to a halt. 

 

       Tara opened her eyes in surprise to the loud cheers all around them. She was dazed when she realized that they had made it back and before the rest!

 

Yaji had done it again! To the cheering crowd, it looked like it was not just the prize that he won, but a good deal more, what with the way Tara was found sitting on Yaji’s lap.

 

Tara was not one to get embarrassed, though. She was actually glad. Glad to have spent such thrilling moments with Yaji. He had an assurance about his aura even in times of deep distress. 

 

       One question everybody was asking everybody else was; how did Yaji win?

 

       Tara, of course, could not tell because she was too busy to notice his strategy. Yaji, had simply taken a shorter route that passed through the restricted tiger zone that everybody else avoided. On encountering the tiger, Yaji knew that his only chance was to out speed the tiger. However, in the event of the chasing tiger pouncing on them from the back, he would not want Tara to take the pounce… and so he slid her to the front, shielding her from the wild beast.

 

As the high voltage action came to an end, deep in the woods, in the protégé of darkness, a figure dressed in torn blue jeans and a white t- shirt, the strange man in white beard kept watching Yaji with hypnotic eyes. Yaji noticed the man for a second but in a flash he was not to be seen again.

 

       Yaji went to work on the Demon Roses the next day. He had not taken their bullying too well the day before, but it was not his style to retaliate on the instant. When he dealt one, his blow would be remembered, he told his mates.

 

       In the three weeks that followed, Demon Roses were exposed and their scam came to light. Yaji’s plan was executed with cold precision. For the six girls of Demon Roses, it was a proud moment and moment that gave the gang a purpose. Proud because, being bad was the ‘in thing’ and their single purpose now was vendetta… on their archenemy, Yaji.

 

       Yaji graduated and went back to Hindolas. Hindolas was now a big city. Taking his dad’s advice, he set up a firm in Hindolas that supplied entertainment for events all over the country. He had expected the Demon Roses to do something in retaliation. But they simply went quite for the rest of the year.

 

       Seven years have passed after the Demon Roses incident. Yaji had busied himself with his flourishing business. Life had been rather exiting for him, as he kept achieving his little targets.

 

That girl in blue, the cool fist kiss’s wet, tender press on his lips… her eyes filled with tears on the last day… Manoya… was forgotten completely.

 

       On his 27th birthday, destiny unfolded different plans for Yaji. There was a difficult customer that Yaji’s staff could not handle. This hotheaded lady was a man-eater, the employees complained; they sought Yaji’s help to deal with her. This lady was demanding a personal meeting with the boss to express her grievance. Yaji knew that he had to meet her. Such customers could only be dealt with in person. He asked his staff to them to show her in.

 

       The lady was robust and tall and was dressed in tight denims and with loose blond hair. Her intense eyes told tales of passionate existence. Anyone would love to turn back and admire her again after they first see her. But strangely, when one spends a little while with her, she starts making one feel guilty, somehow by her very manner. She oozed a sense of overt self-confidence, so much that she looked upon mortals like they were worms from under the ground.

 

       Yaji was dressed in a plain white satin shirt and a pair of cool denim jeans. His smile, his eyes, his demeanor was almost perfect for the meeting. The former magician was now a handsome hunk who could make girls’ knees go week.

 

With a confident stride and sweeping movements of his long hands, Yaji walked into the guest room. As his eyes settled on the lady who was seated like a queen with legs crossed, he opened his mouth in surprise and recognition.

 

The lady’s disposition was similar to his, albeit more animated. She gave a shrill cry and stood up. ‘Yaji!” she yelled in excitement. ‘Tara!’ he exclaimed…

 

Tara was really happy to meet Yaji as much as Yaji was glad to see her. Issues that seem gigantic in days of college are seldom forgotten as man passes out of his adolescence.

 

After a very brief chat, Tara invited Yaji to her place that evening. She said that she lived in a spacious villa, all by herself, and said she would love Yaji to come home for a drink and dinner.

 

Yaji did not object to the invite. It was his birthday that day and spending with an old friend was not a bad idea, he thought. Also, he didn’t want her to feel that he still carried dark feelings of the past.

 

That night, Tara was already on a high when Yaji arrived. She offered him Mehaes, a special form of expensive alcohol to Yaji but he declined it politely, saying he still could not get himself into that habit.

 

Both of them sat there, knowing not, what to talk. Tara then broke the silence. “I could not thank you for that day, when you saved me from the tiger, Yaji,” she said playing with her glass of Mehaes between her long artistic fingers.

 

“I was the one who got your meeting fixed with the tiger in the first place, Tara,” he said with an enchanting smile dancing on his lips, “remember?” She smiled, too. Yaji noticed that here was a deep sadness, in her eyes. On an instinct, he moved to sit beside her, closer to her.

 

Tara looked strangely comforted by this act. She adjusted herself and turned facing him, as he asked her in his usual deep, soothing tone, “What is it, Tara? What has life done to you?’

 

       Tara fell silent for a moment. She was staring deep into the white colored alcohol in her glass, as if the past was all magically visible in her glass.

 

Finally when she began to talk, she told him that she has been married and divorced twice in the past seven years. She always loved the macho types. And her selection would turn out to be a fiasco when she discovered that the macho exterior housed intolerable insecurities within the men.

 

She had even been a victim of torture by the second husband. She said that after what she has faced, she became cynical towards life. She knows deep down that she had suffered in the hands of psychologically sick men, and now she makes everybody she meets suffer, though she knew that it was wrong.

 

Yaji listened silently. Sometimes, people do not need solutions. They just need to be heard. They need to be introduced to silence.

 

       Yaji, looked into her eyes. He fell in sync with the trauma she had faced. It felt like an ashen smoke was hovering over her, thick and heavy. He felt the sadness she experienced inside his own heart.

 

In a delicate hand movement, he caressed her hair and let his palm remain on her ear. Tara was experiencing a soft yet powerful vibe of serenity in his presence. His gesture, the softness of his palm over her ear… his fingertips touching her neck in an arrhythmic movement… were giving birth to something she never experienced hitherto in her body.

 

A few minutes later, she lifted her eyes and looked into his. “What is this feeling called, Yaji?” she whispered to him, barely audible. He did not answer her.

 

‘Breath with me Tara… simply breathe,’ he said. Moments passed in perfect stillness… stillness born out of movement… the rhythmic movement of breath going in and out…

 

       As Tara’s body showed signs of complete relaxation after years of stress-filled existence, her tall robust body melted into an embrace with Yaji. He did nothing to resist. There was a connect that went deeper than lust could penetrate. There was a tenderness that two souls could connect with, without being gender conscious.

 

       “What did you do to me, Yaji?” asked Tara, still hugging him… her closed eyes now flooded with tears… “It’s noting, Tara. You had been carrying a dead body on your shoulders, I just gave it a nudge… and now you are feeling weightless,” said Yaji.

 

Tara unlocked the embrace, sat upright and looked into his eyes quizzically. “Your past, Tara. You have been carrying the dead past on your shoulders. And its weight was not letting you live anymore. I just gave you a simple technique to get back into the present.’

 

       Tara blinked in bewilderment. “That was amazing!” she said. “Simple but powerful. Become conscious of your body from inside. Listen to the silence, in between your ears and in your chest. Just let everything be and focus lovingly on your breath, watching it, not forcing it… You are in the present. That is the only door there is, for true joy,” said Yaji.

 

Tara felt lighter inside. The elated energy inside has even overpowered the alcohol she consumed. She wiped her tears and smiled like a little girl and hugged Yaji tight again… a little too tight, perhaps… for Yaji smiled and said, “Your joy has enough strength to crush my ribs, Tara.”

 

She smiled and released her grip. And in an instant, she kissed Yaji on his lips… a kiss that was unexpected… an extempore kiss that has warm, wet, tender and innocent. A kiss that expressed gratitude and one that Tara wanted to do since long…

 

“Yaji, I always wanted to kiss you,” she said with half closed eyes. Yaji, parted his lips from hers. “Tara, you are a wonderful woman, and you are very beautiful. Practice living in the moment and the right person who will treat Tara like a precious star, will surely be sent to you by the Universe,’ he said, embracing her once more with affection…

 

It was a rare moment, a moment that changed Tara’s life forever, for good. And Yaji did not know yet, that this moment was going to change his life too, forever…

 

       Tara was a matured woman. Though that night, she wished Yaji to take her, she understood that there was something in the unfathomable depths of his being that would not let him make love to her. What it was, she did not understand, though.

 

There was a skill with which Yaji handled a woman’s body, a marksmanship in his touch that could take a woman to states of ecstasy that she always longed for… yet she knew better than to propose it…

 

Yaji stayed back that night and they slept next to each other. She felt the deepest of relaxation when she cuddled into Yaji and slept resting her head on his hand.

 

       Next morning, Tara asked Yaji to have breakfast with her before leaving. As they sat having sandwiches and juice, Tara looked at him with affection. “Yaji, you’ve given me a tremendous gift, mate. You’re such a darling. I feel remorse for being silent at a time when you were being wronged,” said Tara.

 

Yaji lifted his head and smiled “I don’t believe anything’s right or wrong, Tara,” he said. “No, it’s about the Demon Roses incident, Yaji,” said Tara. “What about it? I was prepared for retaliation from the Demon Roses. I waited, but you all did nothing. I thought that was out of character for you girls,” Yaji said taking a swing from his grape juice.

 

       “That’s not true, Yaji, we… no, actually the other girls had taken their revenge, I guess,” said Tara, her eyes fixed on his…

 

“And what might that be? A revenge that I did not even realize they had taken, even after seven years? Some revenge, that,” said Yaji in a playful tone.

                 

“My friends,” said Tara, her tone laced with traces of tension,  “the Demon Roses were really pissed off with what you did. Though they enjoyed the negative publicity on getting suspended, they were hell bent on hurting you. But I did not know the exact details of their plot, Yaji, trust me,” paused Tara.

 

“And why was that?” asked Yaji, trying to guess what was coming.

“They did not include me into their secret plan because… hmmm… forget it,” said Tara with a hint of a blush. “Come on now, Tara. You know I wouldn’t let go of you until you tell me…” teased Yaji. ‘No, that, you need not know all Yaji. Let me finish what I was telling you, it’s important, you,” said Tara.

 

‘No. No. No. No…’ Yaji started singing.

 

‘Alright… alright… After that day of horse race, I fell for you… The girls also suspected that I,” she paused as if mustering courage for the confession she was about to make. “I was thinking of asking you to marry me. And so they felt that I would not let them harm you in any way,’ said Tara, her fair skin turning pink trying to suppress a blush by looking away…

 

‘Wow! This planet has one person now that has seen Tara blush!!!’ teased Yaji.

 

As the moment passed, Tara’s expression turned serious again. “Yaji, the Demon Roses somehow found out that there was a girl in your childhood” said Tara.

 

Instantly, Yaji felt a heavy thud in his heart. The mere mention of the girl of his childhood made his heart skip a beat. As he observed this reaction inside him, he wondered just why. His mind threw up no recollection of anything.

 

“Then they got lucky. I got to know that they got hold of a letter that was posted to you, even before it reached you.” Tara said.

“But…”

“Yeah, I know. This letter was posted to your home in Hindolas but it was redirected to our college hostel in Lenisma by your parents, I guess. The Demon Roses stole it from the hostel,” said Tara…

 

Yaji shrugged, unable to understand.

 

“Okay Tara, now tell me what letter was it, who wrote it?” asked Yaji, nonchalantly. “I don’t really know, Yaji. I think, it was from a girl and it contained an address that the writer of the letter thought you should really know,” said Tara.

 

       Yaji’s heart seemed to react with vigor, again. “Address…” he muttered to himself in thought. There was an aggressive throb similar to the beating of African drums the instant he heard what Tara said. And yet again, he tried in vein to comprehend the strange reaction that emanated from the inside his chest.

 

       Yaji felt that his heart was screaming and trying to tell him something, just what, he had no clue.

       Tara must have had her female intuition working for her, for she felt concerned. She got up and came around to Yaji. Placing her hands around his shoulders, she bent down and touched her cheek to his…

 

Finally Yaji gave up thinking. He held Tara’s hand and kissed it. “Thank you, Tara. What you informed me about is probably important to me. But honestly… I don’t know what might be.” He said and then asked her casually, “Okay, Tara tell me, when did this letter arrive, and when did the Demon Roses steal it?’

 

“Perhaps seven years ago…when we were half way through our final year of graduation.”

“And baby, who do you think took it, and where could I find the letter? Could it still be there or did they destroy it?” asked Yaji.

 

“Yaji, I don’t have the answers to your questions. They never let me into their ploy,” said Tara in a sad tone, feeling bad that she was not able to help any more.

 

“No problem, do you meet the Demon Roses, still?”

“Not really, we have parted our ways about three years ago after an altercation, Yaji,” said Tara.

“Oh, that so? Alright then, Tara,” said Yaji, standing up and holding her hands.

 

“Sure dear… but you should promise me that you’d give me one of those kisses you gave me last night, every now and then,” smiled Tara…

 

It was Yaji’s turn to blush…

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