Captured

Chapter 1

It was going to be the third visit of Matsyaa to India since her birth. First time, she was five years old when her parents decided to spend the summer holidays in their hometown to make her cognizant of her extended family. Second time, she was fifteen while travelling there because her grandfather had passed away, leaving a dispute over the patriarchal property and her grandmother had called both of her sons to share the property equally between them.

This time, she was a twenty one years old, young and beautiful girl—working towards her degree in Archeology and assisting in the Department of Forensic Anthropology—to fly to India because her uncle was suffering from chronic liver infection, Cirrhosis and was due for the surgery. His chances of survival were slim and she was over worried for his health that dampened the excitement to meet her cousins after what seemed like decades.

She woefully zipped her suitcase and handed it to George who was waiting for her. She tightened her auburn hair in a ponytail and perched on the bed to lace her runners.

"Matsyaa, done with your packing?" Gauri knocked on her door and peeked inside. Matsyaa hummed, getting up and looked around to check. "Yes mom. Done."

"Good. I'll see you downstairs then. Come on." Gauri ushered her and directed George to put their luggage in the car, preceding him. Matsyaa locked her room, grabbing her phone and headphones. She plodded to the exit and handed the keys to Martha, instructing her to clean her room everyday.

"Hurry up, Matsyaa. We're running late, sweety." Gauri called out, already sitting in the car and Matsyaa hotfooted. She jumped beside her mother and locked the car door, "Did you contact dad?"

"No. His phone is coming switched off but don't worry, Arush will be there to pick us up from the airport." Gauri casually informed, fixing her wrist watch and Matsyaa gaped at her.

Gauri was dressed in decent purple sheath, wearing a pair of white moccasins, looking classy. None could say she was going to board a flight whereas Matsyaa glanced down at her own attire - cotton, blue wife beater, white phat pants and a pair of runners, she looked nowhere near the term 'classy'.

Mrs. Gauri Rathore couldn't compromise with her ladylike looks and patrician elegance. Despite this, it never became cumbersome for Matsyaa to feel obligated to roam around prim. She was given free hand to continue her life on her terms regarding everything ranging from trivial issues like clothing to major ones like deciding her life partner.

Though she hadn't made that choice yet, regarding the life partner.

Noticing Matsyaa's blank stare, Gauri inquired. "What?"

Matsyaa shook her head and posed her real question. "Ma. Are you sure he'll be there? I mean you've not talked to dad for two days. You should at least inform him about our arrival."

Gauri frowned, contemplating. "He booked the tickets for us. Of course, he knows we are coming today. And, his phone is switched off. I can't contact him anyway. So, don't make nervous now."

Matsyaa nodded, swiping a hand down her face and noticed the red undertones of her hair shining under the soft sunlight. The car was moving and she was hoping her father hadn't forgotten to remind Arush about their arrival. She plugged in the headphones and hit the British library to put off her anxiety.

Matsyaa lived at Preston, Lancashire in London with her parents and her family was settled in India. About thirty years ago, her father decided to come to England for his business studies where he met Gauri and their six years affair flourished, making him determined to marry the woman and settle in London for good.