Creative Writing: Jagan's Home

“It was unchanged. They were running their activities but in a new name.” Jagan said. “Did not you try to do anything against them? Did not you complain?” “Complain! Who would hear me?” Jagan asked. “I am a convicted prisoner.” He grinned. “I had no evidence against them. I had only memories with me. Memory can’t prove anything in court.” Jagan moaned. We both were silent for a few minutes. Sunlight was coming from the window. My wrist watch showing that it was five thirty. I realised that I spent the whole night with Jagan’s story. I generally love the story with a happy ending. But it was tragic. I think reality is more times tragic than a happy ending. I was sitting quiet for Jagan’s response. Finally, Jagan talked.

“I think I made

“I don’t believe in miracles, but I believe sometimes magic happens in life in its own way” I said again. I was confirmed that one day Jagan’s story would come in light. But Jagan is not alone lame duck many offspring in this world are searching their parents. They might be adopted, but their biological parents might not leave them. Some times the racket busted some time not, but same miseries are transformed from one to another. This is the time to protest from the every corner of the society against slavery, child molestation and the hypocrisy under the shadow of religion. We all know what we should do but we are in hurry. We are in hurry for success in life, we are in hurry to reach our goal and we are actually confined by the system. I was also in hurry, because I had to return. I came out from Jagan’s room. He was standing in his door. I came back to my room. The guests were sleeping After,a late night party. I made myself ready for the Journey. Breakfast was served in my room. I went to visit my cousin before I left the villa. They requested to stay that day, but my ticket was booked for Kolkata. My cousin and his wife were given a warm farewell. I took the same car by which I came that place. At the time of returning I saw Jagan was standing near his room. I waved my hand to him. He smiled and waved a hand for greeting. Finally, car started rolling. Suddenly Jagan came by running. I told the driver

Sorry to bother you.” the girl cut the phone line. I took a long breath and sat on the chair again. I didn’t know whether that girl had any connection with Jagan or Zaina. I didn’t want to make more complexity on that little girl’s life. And for that I didn’t told the real fact. But I was not getting the satisfaction. I thought the entire day and decided to talk Jagan. I called that resort at Lonavla and asked for Jagan. A young voiced received the phone and introduced as caretaker of the resort. The caretaker of that resort has informed me that he is new in the job and he had no idea about the old caretaker of the house. I asked again and he confirmed that really he had no idea about the old