NO MORE AUTHOR NOTES & THE 12-15 CHAPTER ROADMAP
The Permanent Closure of the Author's Notes: This is my full, final, and absolute statement regarding my personal life.
There will be zero author notes, zero personal logs, and zero meta-discussions appended to any upcoming chapters. The text in this Final Announcement is the last behind-the-scenes commentary you will ever read from me. I am conserving 100% of my energy strictly for execution.
The Shocking Horizon: What I am reveal today will shock many of you and will undoubtedly be highly emotional. I have officially decided to bring this novel to its absolute conclusion within the next 12 to 15 chapters.
The Death of the Pattern: To be completely honest, I have grown deeply bored of the repetitive, factory-line "wish-fulfillment" tropes. My mind loathes cyclic patterns. I refuse to turn this book into a stale documentary of endless movie launches, boring box office metrics, and repetitive award ceremonies.
The Real-World Psyche: This decision directly mirrors my actual life. Throughout my career, I have deliberately switched more than 7 jobs because I have an insatiable drive to observe human behavior and corporate antics from the inside—grinding within elite FAANG or Global Fortune companies and prominent Indian Unicorns.
The exact second a space becomes predictable, I pack my bags and leave.
The Creative Peak: Chapter 59 stands as one of the single best, most emotionally devastating pieces of architecture I have ever written till date. Pushing my mind to that caliber has left me exhausted. I will not dilute that greatness by dropping back into a basic film production loop. We are moving entirely into a high-velocity war.
The Final Climax Timeline
Here is the exact structural roadmap that will shatter this earthly sandbox over the next 12 to 15 chapters before the gates close:
The Bharat Vedic Heroes Reunion: The Indian Avengers Grid will systematically converge. The mythic forces of Baahubali, Brahmastra, and Krrish will unite into a single vanguard on the soil of Bharat to wage war against an ancient, primordial evil.
The Hollywood Silent War: Our Samrat crosses the ocean to conquer the West, introducing two massive historical figures:
Elon Musk: Introduced as an SSS-Class super genius superior to the Wu twins, operating on a completely unique frequency.
Donald Trump: A massive political collision is locked. Anant, Isha, and Ganga will step straight into a high-stakes White House Presidential Party. The sheer psychological tension, the sharp verbal exchanges, and the raw power dynamics of that room will blow your mind.
The Phantom of Malak (The Deadly Hitman): A terrifying ghost from the past will take the limelight—Malak's obsessive lover. This individual is an SS to SSS-Class global threat level, operating as the world's most lethal and unhinged hitman. This completely one-sided, dark infatuation will be fleshed out through an incredibly intense flashback sequence.
The Sacred Ramayana Arc: Anant will pay his ultimate creative tribute to the Television Fraternity. Following a massive box office failure where Adipurush becomes a historic bomb, the public will frantically demand and request Anant Sharma to step forward and portray Lord Rama. Anant will answer the call and announce his definitive Ramayana.
The Kneeling of the Void: During the sacred Ramayana peak, Parvathy's real cosmic origin will finally be unveiled. Readers will witness how her deep, timeless devotion possesses the spiritual weight to force the unfeeling Void Emperor to kneel before her, choosing to consciously lower his infinity to become her absolute equal—a moment that will bring profound, pure happiness to both Isha and Ganga.
The Doomsday Grand Finale (HER/SHE): The final, definitive movement of this novel. The entity known as SHE will fully materialize in her ultimate form as the primordial cosmic doomsday. It will be an absolute, reality-breaking ending that will permanently close the curtains on this world.
The Next Era: Anant and the Multiverse
The Ascension of the Trio: Yes, you heard it absolutely right.
My next project is officially "Anant and the Multiverse".
The moment the doomsday gates close on this earthly stage, Anant along with his trio of lovers will ascend straight into the infinite reaches of the multiverse.
The MisterImmortal Tribute: I don't know how many of you are familiar with the legendary author MisterImmortal, the creative mastermind who forged the Grandpa Universe in Multiverse.
That man is an absolute legend.
The way he writes multiverse travel is so incredibly good that I really like and love it. I especially respect how he represents our country, India, where he utterly despises the historical compliance of Gandhi and Nehru, while deeply admiring the unyielding fire of Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose and Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel.
That guy has a profound knowledge regarding our Indian subcontinent that far surpasses the so-called "Indian patriots" who only know how to shout slogans on the internet but don't know nothing at the ground level.
I highly recommend everyone read his story.
I will be proudly following his template.
The "Normal Chef" Philosophy: In this upcoming multiverse canvas, the tone will gracefully shift. While it will feature great fight sequences and sharp comedy, it will be deeply rooted in a cozy slice-of-life harmony.
Anant will choose to become a "normal" chef, quietly cooking and serving delicious meals while his powerhouse queens step forward to actively conquer the worlds. He loves to watch them rule, because for an absolute Infinity like him, everything in the external universe is a zero—except for the lovers who anchor his soul.
The Vote [Leave Your Comments Here]: Each alternate world will be written at a slightly fast pace, but completely filled with my signature, massive-word-count long chapters.
Right now, I am confused about our very first destination, so I am asking you all: which world do you want to see first?
Option A: The Cinematic Movie Worlds (MCU, DCEU, Game of Thrones, Harry Potter)
Option B: The Anime Worlds (Naruto, One Piece, Bleach, Dragon Ball Super, Jujutsu Kaisen, Demon Slayer, My Hero Academia)
Leave your comments below to lock your votes!
The Shredded Abs Scam & The Emotional Void:
I know this is going to come as a massive shock to many of you, but being shredded and chasing 8-pack abs is a pure scam that completely destroys your physical body.
At my peak, I achieved an 8-pack architecture with a body fat percentage sitting around 10 percent.
While other boys looked at my figure in absolute awe, I utterly hated it.
To pull off that look, I literally had to stop taking salt entirely. Within 4 to 5 days, my packs turned rock-solid, but I became a literal zombie. My mind entered a state of terrifying emptiness—I couldn't feel happiness, sadness, or a single drop of human emotion.
The Great Street Food Escape: Realizing that this artificial standard was hollowing out my soul, I chose to follow my hero model. I ran away from the toxic fitness cycle and straight into a traditional restaurant.
I completely shocked the waiter by ordering a massive feast of Masala Dosa, Chole Bhature, Tikki Chaat, and Pav Bhaji. I finished the entire spread with a plate of rich Rasmalai, let out a loud, thunderous burp, and went to bed.
I slept like a log for a continuous 12 hours straight. The moment I awoke, I felt completely happy, alive, and rejuvenated because my internal hormones had crashed back up to their absolute peak.
My girlfriend had been worrying about my heart all week, so I met her the next day and we danced together through the entire night, a beautiful movement that permanently stabilized my core.
The History of Hormones: I am sharing this raw real-world experience not to brag or show off, but to make you understand the absolute importance of your biochemistry.
Humans like to think they are hyper-rational creatures, but the reality will make your mind question whether you are just an animal driven entirely by enhanced hormones.
To truly comprehend this matrix, I highly recommend everyone read Randi Hutter Epstein's acclaimed book, "Aroused: The History of Hormones and How They Control Just About Everything."
You will be completely shocked to learn how these silent chemicals govern your focus, your anger, and your capacity to love.
In a simple sense: just be fit, enjoy your life, eat everything in a limited and controlled manner, but actually eat.
My Country, The Vegetarian Heaven: For a strict, pure vegetarian like me, India is absolute heaven on earth. This is one of the primary reasons why I love my country and why I choose never to leave the soil of Bharat permanently. I have traveled to foreign nations, and trust me, finding clean, authentic vegetarian food across the oceans is a brutal, exhausting struggle.
Our homeland respects the purity of the soil, and that civilizational depth is something I will always protect.
The Genesis of HER (The Ultimate Doomsday)
This brings us directly to the final, definitive arc of this novel—the arrival of HER. The entity known as SHE is the final doomsday that will close the curtains on this world, and she is mined directly from a terrifying, real-life inspiration. The final arc is going to be a pure piece of gritty, dark, and devastating psychological horror because of HER.
In the real world, an extreme, obsessive love is the most terrifying, reality-shattering force a man can ever encounter—it possesses a madness that can completely break your sanity. I faced the raw brunt of this dark obsession during my very first job, and it is the exact, unbending reason why I hold a profound hatred for office romance.
The Mirror of Love and Horror
That phase of my life cost me countless sleepless nights, and to be completely honest, a part of my spirit was deeply afraid of HER. Yet, looking back from my current life, I am also profoundly thankful for her existence, because surviving her psychological warfare forced me to permanently master my own psychological skills, human mentalism, and internal gravity in practical sense.
My one of the favorite cinematic genre is love horror, because the world likes to divide love and horror into separate rooms, yet they are the exact same entity. If you want to understand the psychological frequency of the final arc, look closely at phenomenal masterpieces like the recent movie Obsession, the Japanese horror Audition (1999), Misery (1990), Dream Home (2010), and even our domestic classic Pyaar Tune Kya Kiya (2001). They all master that fascinating, suffocating line where affection transforms into absolute terror.
This entity is mined directly from a terrifying, real-life inspiration during my very first job. As many of my original readers know, I entered the corporate field carrying the quiet memory of my pure, innocent first love breakup with Simran. For over a year, I executed my software engineering role with immense success—until SHE arrived fully into the frame.
She was my boss and senior manager. She was highly intelligent, had mastered her MBA from Johns Hopkins, and belonged to an incredibly powerful, elite family with a highly influential mother and father. She was ruthless, a heavy smoker, a drinker, and ran casual flings with boys, treating them like disposable toys while viewing employees as mere expendables.
I utterly hated her lifestyle.
The Architecture Review Clash & The Predator's Smile
Our separate worlds violently clashed inside a corporate meeting hall during a high-stakes global architecture review. She attempted to dictate a rigid, highly expensive serverless microservices tech stack to satisfy her own departmental KPIs.
Utilizing my technical depth, I openly challenged her design—proving how the excessive network latency and astronomical S3/API data-transfer costs would throttle our system under peak traffic. I laid out a flawless, highly optimized hybrid model instead, keeping the core data pipelines tightly coupled in a modular monolith while decoupling the auxiliary services.
It triggered a silent, toxic cold war. Due to my absolute technical confidence, she noticed me for the first time.
As I left the office that evening, she was waiting out on the asphalt by her luxury sports car, taking a slow drag from her cigarette. Even now, a shudder runs through my spirit remembering that moment. Blowing smoke into the night air, she stepped close and whispered straight into my ear: "I like your confidence."
She drove away with a smile—but it was the calculated smile of an apex predator marking its hunt, a lioness tracking its prey.
The Firing & The Shadow Surveillance
The very next morning, she ruthlessly broke up with her current boyfriend—who happened to be an engineer on an adjacent team—and weaponized her managerial authority to push him out of the firm entirely. The poor guy was honestly just happy to be thrown out of her grasp.
After a few days, she summoned me into her private cabin under the pretext of discussing an upcoming AI project. I maintained a frozen, strictly professional demeanor. Shockingly, she bypassed all corporate boundaries and suggested we continue our tech talk outside at a private restaurant and cafe. When I politely told her I don't drink and prefer a disciplined lifestyle, a chilling smile crossed her face.
She casually revealed that she already knew my exact lifestyle. She explicitly complimented my physical transformation—a detail I had never shared with a single soul in that office. She had quietly tracked down my entire history, from my college days to my current time, completely bypassing my strict privacy protocols.
Realizing she was playing a dangerous psychological surveillance game, I simply nodded, smiled, and turned to leave. Before my fingers touched the door handle, her whisper hit my back: "I like tough things."
The Night of the Client Meet & The Drenched Dervish
A brutal shadow war commenced. During a major international client club party where my presence was non-negotiable, I stood in the corner drinking simple non-alcoholic fluids, quietly observing the corporate crowd dance like a pack of rabid animals. Disgusted by the low frequency, I walked out of the club to wait outside on the pavement.
Hours later, the inner circle emerged, carrying her in a state of absolute, unconscious drunkenness. Left with no choice by my remaining colleagues, I took her car keys and drove her back to her luxury apartment.
The moment we crossed her threshold, she violently vomited all over me. My entire clothes were instantly drenched in a pungent, suffocating mixture of alcohol, tobacco smoke, and bile. Sinking into my internal Saint persona, I bore the disgust in silence. I cleaned her up safely, changed her into fresh garments without crossing a single boundary of integrity, and scrubbed the acid off her floorboards.
The Dark Tetrad Unveiled
Suddenly, she grabbed me with an immense force, pulling me down into a frantic, bone-crushing hug and attempting to capture my lips. She broke into heavy, streaming tears, revealing a devastating narrative about her childhood trauma, her parents' toxic public affairs, and the violent domestic wars that had hollowed out her soul.
She claimed her ruthless, cunning exterior was a shield because she had never experienced true love, swearing that if she found a man who could heal her, she would hand him her entire body, life, and global property.
She was a phenomenal actress, but my hyper-calculating mind was actively running a real-time clinical diagnostic on her behavioral traits:
Machiavellianism: A highly manipulative, calculating psyche that views human beings as mere expendable chess pieces or toys.
Subclinical Narcissism: An absolute sense of entitlement, dominant authority, and an insatiable need for total control.
Subclinical Psychopathy: A completely ruthless, cold, and predatory approach to emotional relationships.
Histrionic and Borderline Leanings: The violent, sudden contrast between an aggressive predatory exterior and a weaponized, deeply vulnerable emotional breakdown.
She was actively utilizing extreme vulnerability as a secondary trap to bind my caring heart, exactly like how Simran attempts to manipulate Anant's saintly consciousness on the page.
The Ruthless Void vs. The Karmic Exchange
She systematically exposed her body in her half-fake drunken state, playing on my empathy to force a surrender. But she committed a fatal error—she had absolutely zero knowledge of my internal Void Persona, an entity just as ruthless and detached as her own.
My logical brain instantly calculated the options: I could easily play her game, sleep with her, let her treat me like her King, exploit her immense wealth, and turn my corporate career into a golden era of power.
But I am a believer in the laws of Karma and Kama.
During physical intimacy, your cells execute a massive, irreversible exchange of spiritual karma and raw energetic signatures. If your soft heart pities a toxic vessel, they will systematically suck the vital life force straight out of your soul, leaving you an empty, discarded husk the exact moment they grow bored of the pattern.
The Clean Checkmate
I chose to play her game on my own terms. I stayed awake the entire night while she slept—or pretended to sleep, because my intuition knew she was faking the exhaustion. In the morning, I walked into her kitchen and prepared a fresh pot of coffee.
She awoke, stepping forward with a completely altered, submissive frequency, apologizing for her behavior. Then, she dropped a subtle, terrifying power play. She revealed that she had forced her ex-boyfriend to resign by threatening to blackball him legally, claiming he had turned "obsessive."
It was a hidden warning meant for me.
Crying once more, she reached out to hug my chest, whispering that if she could find a disciplined, hardworking, and pure man like me, her entire life would change. I gently stepped back out of her perimeter, let out a calm, unbothered smile, and delivered the definitive checkmate:
"You will definitely find your true life partner. As for me, I am permanently married to my work, and I hold absolutely zero interest in any type of romance."
I turned my back on her luxury world, walked through the exit gates, and left her house cleanly forever.
The Silent Exit & The Final Stand
After some weeks of complete professional silence, the reality of working in a poisoned atmosphere caught up with me. I had worked day and night, pouring my soul into our system architectures, but I knew that as long as she held managerial authority over my unit, my career would be a stagnant psychological battlefield.
I felt a deep, unyielding tiredness wash over me. I refused to let her weaponize my livelihood or use her family's systemic influence to trap my spirit and yes I discarded my Promotions and bonus as I don't care about money, fame and power.
I didn't wait for the annual review cycle. I simply drafted my official resignation letter, bypassing her entirely by sending it straight to the central HR portal, copying her only as a formality.
She instantly summoned me into her private cabin. Her face was a mask of cold, unhinged disbelief that someone had willingly walked away from her.
She stepped close, her voice dropping into a chilling, desperate whisper: "You think you can just walk out? I can use my internal levers to report you for gross misconduct and tie up your background verification check for years. Your corporate future is in my hands."
I calmly massaged my forehead, completely unbothered by her threats. I looked her dead in the eyes and delivered an engineering strike that shattered her composure completely:
"You can try," I whispered coldly.
"But the second a single false complaint hits my employee file, my automated digital backup goes straight to the global ethics committee. It contains every unauthorized off-site meeting request, the calendar metadata from the nights you bypassed corporate boundaries, and an un-edited log of our communications. I will wage a total war of compliance, and your family's influence won't be able to stop the internal audit fallout for this firm. Let's make this a clean, silent notice period."
I stared deep into her soul without blinking a single time, turned my back, and left her cabin.
The Farewell
Throughout my remaining notice period, she never dared to disturb my peace again. She completely avoided my floor. On my very last day, my close team colleagues—the ones who truly valued my craft—organized a beautiful, quiet farewell party for me. She didn't attend; she stayed locked behind her glass office windows.
But as I packed my bags and walked past her glass office one final time, she stepped out onto the floor. Leaning in under the noise of the office chatter, she whispered something that sends a cold shiver through my spirit even to this day:
"You will eventually come back to this world, Anurag. Because you are just like me."
She had deliberately attempted to plant a dark mental knot inside my thoughts.
But I cast her shadow away, walked out of that building cleanly, and left that toxic corporate chapter behind forever. Soon after, the cosmic wheel turned once more, and I walked into that historic event where I crossed paths with Divya.
The Final Dark POV & The Reality Behind the Fiction
To close the curtains on this chapter, I want to address something directly. I know many might look at the complex, twisted psychological warfare in this novel and feel a sense of disbelief.
But you have to question yourself: Why is the author able to write such long, intricate chapters with psychological layers that leave your mind spinning?
It is because I have lived it. When you work in elite, corporate Tier-1 corporate environments surrounded by high-society individuals, you realize everyone is smart—very smart. But among them live individuals who are ruthless. Incredibly, devastatingly ruthless.
This brings me to the most important topic of this final Note—a dark, raw perspective explicitly meant for my younger readers. Both the young men and the young women.
For the Young Women: The Trap of the Toxic "Alpha"
Never, under any circumstances, fall for the toxic, so-called "alpha male" archetype. During my study of the human mind, I deeply analyzed the vicious cycle between the Emotional Toxic Manipulator and Stockholm Syndrome.
So many innocent young girls make one catastrophic error that predatory men take immediate advantage of. Everyone loves control—even I recognize that urge within myself—but I have mastered my lust and harnessed my desires.
A toxic partner, an abuser, or a smoker will use your empathy against you. They will play the victim card, cross your physical boundaries, abuse or degrade you, and then weep, apologize, and repeat the cycle.
The trap locks when you make the mistake of hiding his behavior from your family out of fear or reputation.
He feeds on that silence.
He will record explicit photos or intimate moments under the guise of "loving memories," but in reality, he is building a doomsday clock to control you. This psychological breaking slowly morphs into Stockholm Syndrome, where you genuinely begin to love your abuser which is nothing but a mental conditioning or grooming.
Look at movies like Kabir Singh or Arjun Reddy.
They are prime cultural examples of this disease. Kabir degrades and abuses Preeti, and she absorbs the brunt of it in the name of love. It is nothing but a dark, destructive dynamic which bollywood glorified in some twisted sense just watch Animal movie, both movies are disgusting for me.
Let's look at the hypocrisy clearly: when a male acts like a playboy, society claps.
When a female acts as a playgirl, she is branded characterless.
I really want to cover the topic of Dowry and Marital rape case but it become too long where many people just stare and skip it.
This hyper-sexualized disease stems from a twisted interpretation of absolute freedom of Western world especially, driven heavily by the epidemic of pornography and pure flesh pleasure.
If you want to see the literal hidden dangers of that digital world, search YouTube for the video: "John McAfee: You are immediately infected with KEYSTROKE LOGGING SOFTWARE."
It will shock you.
Stop living in a world of "what-if" fantasies.
Wake up to reality.
For the Young Men: Escape the "Golden Retriever" Delusion
I know some of my male readers get irritated, asking, "Author, you always focus on protecting women, what about us?"
I hear you. Trust me, there is a reason I shared my real-life corporate shadow war with you. The real world is far more terrifying than fiction, and the things I know can easily disturb a fragile mind.
Let's talk about the desperation of young men, especially in college. You act like the "good boy," the compliant "golden retriever," just to crawl into a female social circle.
You think you are being sweet, but some girls can clearly read the invisible sign written on your forehead: "USE ME."
Except their minds translate it as: "USE ME AND THEN THROW ME AWAY."
Stop begging for female validation.
If you respect a genuine woman, speak to her with dignity and ask for her honest thoughts, but never operate from a place of desperation.
Trust me on this—women are emotionally far stronger than men. Men possess physical strength, but women possess unparalleled emotional fortitude. They are constantly judging, evaluating, smelling, and observing.
They see your hygiene, your posture, and your intent long before you speak.
Be a gentleman, but never be a golden dog for everyone but that doesn't mean you behave like a ruthless arrogant way.
Focus entirely on yourself.
Build an unshakeable career, control your hormones, master your urges, and make yourself and your family proud.
Sex without love is nothing but raw cardio—an empty exercise where you are simply exchanging millions of germs while your overdriven hormones trick your brain into thinking it's a beautiful sensation.
Yes this is the same Author who writes such a good romance and emotional scene.
The Final Checkmate: The Power of NO
Because I possess a dual persona, I can sit back and evaluate these chess matches in real-time.
Long story short: Always maintain the power to say NO.
Just say no.
The greatest tragedy of youth is the inability to speak that one word, allowing toxic people to seize absolute authority over your life.
Break the chains.
Choose internal freedom.
Once you graduate, earn your livelihood, and secure your career, travel across the vast landscape of India. Observe society with open eyes.
You will witness things that no textbook or fiction novel can ever teach you about the raw, beautiful, and terrifying reality of LIFE.
The Final Act: The Cosmic Wheel & The Triumph's Roar
Let us conclude this final statement with a lighthearted, unforgettable memory—the definitive closing piece of this long journey.
In my previous notes, I briefly spoke about Simran and her husband. His name is Raj. Yes, it reads completely like a movie script.
It is a twist too filmy to believe, yet the universe loves a good punchline.
During our college days, Simran would forcefully compel me to sit down and watch American sitcoms. She was entirely obsessed with series like Friends, The Big Bang Theory, and How I Met Your Mother and many more to count.
To be completely honest, those setups bored my soul because their structures were so incredibly simple, though they had their genuinely funny moments. Back then, she utterly disliked the character of Raj Koothrappali from The Big Bang Theory, constantly complaining about his overly sweet, soft personality.
I would always defend him, telling her that Raj was a good man in his own unique way—a loyal friend, highly intelligent, and deeply genuine, despite his selective mutism around women due to severe social anxiety.
Every single character in that circle, whether it was Sheldon, Leonard, or Howard, carried their own distinct psychological flaws and mental weights, but all of them were magnificent scientists who ruled their respective fields.
Then there was Friends, where the sharp, satirical comedy was enough to make Simran laugh out loud while I simply stared blankly at the screen. But what choice did I have? As a supportive partner back then, I had to sit and endure those episodes alongside her.
Look how beautifully the cosmic wheel spins its threads.
Years later, during her master's studies across the ocean, she fell deeply in love with a man named Raj. He was a literal real-world fusion of Raj, Leonard, and Howard—possessing a physical appearance somewhat resembling the TV character, but operating on a vastly smarter, superior intelligence.
When I found out, I laughed out loud and teased her ruthlessly, reminding her how much she used to despise that exact name and archetype on screen, only to fall completely for a real-world Raj in her actual life. Long story short, they married, and I was honored with an invitation to attend their wedding.
That was where Raj and I crossed paths for the very first time, specifically during the late-night post-reception party. What a magnificent, incredible guy he turned out to be. He was a fountain of endless questions, fiercely curious about every single aspect of existence, and we spent hours locked in deep conversation.
Simran had already warned his mind that I was a creator obsessed with deep detailing and total perfection. Yet, when the dust settled, I completely neutralized his arguments, leaving him in profound awe of my knowledge regarding world religions, ancient faiths, and spiritual histories.
That deep scriptural and cultural depth was the only boundary his intellect lacked; otherwise, he was a terrifyingly smart individual who could have easily rivaled my own mind and even defeated me in a trading knowledge.
He was also a profoundly emotional man.
At one point, he looked straight into my eyes, wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and called me "Brother," declaring that if I had been born in America, we would have undoubtedly become inseparable best friends. I simply let out a warm chuckle and told him with genuine affection that we were brothers right now, regardless of the soil beneath our feet.
Then, he turned his gaze toward Simran and asked with total sincerity: "How could you ever leave a man like him?"
The sudden, unvarnished question made both Simran and me break into a rich, shared laughter.
She answered beautifully, looking at us both and stating that our destinies were simply drawn on separate lines; we were meant to cross paths at one magnificent point, touch each other's lives, and then move forward into our own separate futures.
Simran was well aware of my subsequent history with Divya.
She nudged me playfully, a slight smirk crossing her face as she asked, "Why do you always fall for highly ambitious women? You make us look bad, like we are just using your strength and then walking away."
I laughed at her teasing and left her with a mysterious, silent promise: "Do not worry. My current partner loves India more than anything in this world, and she(s) is my ultimate motorcycle riding buddy(s)."
The declaration left both Simran and Raj intensely curious, desperate for more answers.
I extended a warm invitation for them to visit my independent apartment the moment their schedules cleared, and eventually, they arrived.
I stepped into the kitchen and personally cooked a magnificent dinner for them. As we sat around the table sharing the meal, we spoke about countless things, and I asked Raj about the raw reality of American dorm life. To my immense surprise, he confirmed that the wild, chaotic stories from movies like American Pie are one hundred percent real.
I silently thanked the heavens that I wasn't born in that environment surrounded by so many weird individuals.
Mid-conversation, Simran looked around the quiet, minimalist rooms and asked, "So, where exactly is this mysterious partner of yours?"
I simply offered her a quiet, knowing smile.
Right at that moment, the deep, thundering roar of a Triumph Scrambler 400x engine violently cut through the silence of the street outside.
My smile widened, and I whispered softly: "They have arrived."
I walked over and opened the front door.
Simran and Raj stood there, their mouths hanging wide open in profound shock as the twins walked through the threshold... but let us cut the script right there, haha!
That is the beautiful, complete summary of my life's background.
Now, ask yourself: Do you truly believe that any ordinary writer can weave the complex, shifting dynamics between two powerful women so fluidly and organically on the page? Do you think someone can map out their silent shadow wars and bedroom battles with such realistic, vivid texture unless they have actually lived it?
While they engage in their brilliant games, Anant simply rests back and enjoys the play. Hahaha, because Anant is ME.
BYE.
— Sanatani Author
Next chapters - Weekend