Broken But Beautiful

49. Haunted by nightmare

TW: Panic attacks, nightmares, physical violence.

(Nothing exaggerating, but still take care)

Manik

Ladies and gentlemen.

My one year of writer's block was over, thank you very much.

I'd love to convey my special gratitude to Nandini Murthy, her Sachin kaka and the entire Lonavala for this achievement. It would have been impossible without you all.

I snorted at my own dramatic flair.

A one whole year of insomniac struggle to write something, something worth reading. I wrote six chapters of the book in last two months- and I was on the verge of finishing my eleventh chapter since my last three days in Lonavala.

Huh.

I have to say- It was dramatic. The first night we came to Lonavala, Nandini was half curled up over me, fast asleep,  while I was wide awake for some reason, counting her deep, long breaths. Just then, one line popped up in my head. The line I could use as the first line in the seventh chapter.

"The more I try to overcome my fear, the more they strangled me."

I opened my phone, went to my single notes and wrote the line down. But then I went back to the page where I was actually writing it, and hence hell (in this case, my very personal heaven) broke loose. By next four hours, Nandini's entire tiny posture had shifted above me, while I typed my fingers to numbness.

Next morning, I took refugee in Nandini's laptop.

Nandini looked more excited about my writer's block lifting than I was. She immediately announced we needed to celebrate- so Sachin Kaka was asked to make his special idli-sambar. It was... special. Until the sambar made my eyes and mouth water to an extent that I had to spent the next hour under the shower. When I came back, he flashed me a rare, victorious smile.

I swear to god, dude hated me.

I could understand that, though. Nandini and I were not exactly very...discreet about everything that happened behind the closed doors. 

And fuck, was she a screamer. 

Nandini was so very responsive- and I loved it. Every little sound that escaped her thoat while I touched her and she... touched me- it was magic to my ears. My most favourite kind. Every touch, every kiss, every moment inside her- I mentally groaned at Nandini's laptop screen, as her soft moans and throaty screams echoed in my head.

Okay, Manik. Behave.

You are literally sitting in the front open verandah, that overviewed the entire Lonavala before you. The silent, drizzling, empty Lonavala hills. The blinding, freezing wind. Literally not one living soul anywhere near you. So many things could go wrong and inappropriate real fast.

I snorted. Again.

Despite being on the of most favourite monsoon tourist spots in the whole wide India- this part of Lonavala remained apart from the chaos and hustle of human civilization. According to Nandini and Sachin Kaka, though generally peaceful and quiet it was, this eerie amount of silence that we were experiencing right now was probably due to the working roads and unstoppable rain that had been going on for last two days. In fact, in my whole stay in India if I had to count- probably my 48% days were spent in rain. Wasn't that too much, even for India standard?

The funny and ironic part was that- I haven't gotten tired of it. Yet. And the monsoon season was almost on its way towards coming to an end.

Weird. Definitely weird.