S RISHTI P UBLISHERS & D ISTRIBUTORS
Registered Office : N-16, C.R. Park
New Delhi 110 019
Corporate Office : 212A, Peacock Lane
Shahpur Jat, New Delhi 110 049
First published by
Srishti Publishers & Distributors in 2015
Copyright Vikrmn:, 2015
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This is a work of fiction. The characters, places, organisations and events described in this book are either a work of the authors imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, places, events or organisations is purely coincidental.
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work, and the songs and quotations used in the book are the authors original work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the Publishers.
Dedicated to
My family and teachers my inspiration;
My friends and fellows my respiration .
CONTENTS
Prologue
Life is like a Guitar
I
used to doze off for a dream and get up with a hope. One day I dozed off with a hope; next morning I got up for a dream. That day I got to know: Hopes may vanish, but dreams never die, he said .
The auditorium resonated with applause.
It was 10.00 p.m. in Sydney. A tall, herculean man clad in an exotic black kurta and frayed denim made an imposing presence in an auditorium. A red muffler tied around his neck did some good in betraying his age of sixty that his folds on the skin visibly showed.
His dark eyes conveyed a strange confidence that seemed to contagiously reflect in the audience that he faced. As he braced the people and shifted from one side to the other, he never lost eye contact with the masses that packed the auditorium and cheered endlessly.
A few cameras were focused on him as his colossal image was projected onto a huge screen on the stage. The glaring lights rotating around an exquisitely carved ceiling fell upon him but his experienced eyes never flinched at their audacity. Multihued chandeliers clung to the roof of the hall and bathed the entire hall in their dazzling glory. The place had turned into an unintended rejoicing hall where people had gathered to peep into the brighter side of their lives.
Viktor adjusted his microphone and addressed the enthusiastic audience, Every vision has its own rainbow . The day you realize your vision, you will find yours. A thunderous clapping punctuated every sentence that came out of his mouth.
Thank you everyonefor believing in me for making others find their rainbows, he said, bowing to express his gratitude. The audience returned the favour with an approving ovation.
Two people scrolled a long box towards the stage and placed it in front of Viktor. He walked towards it. Glancing at the carving on the box, he touched it, moving the hand towards center of lid, Life beyond living etched on the bob. He touched the letter and then lid corners as if there was a treasure lying in that box.
Mr. Viktor! Wait a minute, said a gorgeous lady, coming on the stage, an anchor-woman, Lets keep the suspense a little longer.
The hall echoed with hooting and whistling.
Any guesses please! asked the lady aloud.
The people in the audience started yelling one by one, Novel! Paintings! Guitar! They started guessing and a guy said aloud, Balance Sheet! People roared in laughter.
Well! said the lady controlling her laughter, Though Mr. Viktor is a Chartered Accountant, he wont do the auditing here as of now.
The very next moment, everyone started jingling in chorus, Guitar! Guitar! Guitar!
The lady smiled and turned towards Viktor saying, How does this overwhelming response make you feel, Mr Viktor?
Viktor smiled, or at least that was what he thought he was doing, and his eyes fluttered slightly. In an instant he was in a daze, lost in his thoughts and infinite memories.
What the hell do you think of yourself? she yelled at a guy sitting in front of her .
The whole restaurant was suddenly quiet as people started to look at them, but she no longer seemed to care .
You are lost in your own imaginary world. You have no idea what everyone in the real world is saying behind your back .
All he could do was sit there, stunned. The silence was deafening .
You are a failure, Vik, she said, her eyes cold. And I cant take this anymore .
Viktor stood under the bright lights, struggling between his past and present.
I just believed in myself and my dreams, he managed to say. Because I knew Every TODAY has a better version called TOMORROW .
Viktor? the anchor said, interrupting his thoughts. He looked at her and gave her a smile. She asked again, We would love to know how you found the way towards your dreams.
He opened the buckles of the box, looked at the audience and said, You are born the day
the day you find yourself , the gallery echoed with a unanimous clap as he ended his sentence.
Amazing! I have to say thats one of my favorite quotes from your novel Life beyond living , said the lady.
He smiled and opened the box.
Viktor opened the door of his house and was greeted by a courier guy who was in a hurry to drop his packet and rush for other deliveries. He received the parcel and scribbled on a page for a signature before the courier guy fled off. The door slung close behind him as he walked towards his bedroom focusing on ripping off the packets cover .
It was a small velvet box, one very familiar to him. After all, he was the one who had kept it in his pocket for weeks, waiting for just the right moment to get down on his knee .
He knew what was inside, but he dreaded seeing it nonetheless .
His heart racing, he opened the box to find nestled inside the beautiful ring he had so carefully chosen. Tucked beside it was a note, and all it said was, We are done .
Shattered, he found himself on his knees. He threw the box. It hit his guitar that was lying in the corner of room. It felt like the guitar cried out loud .
The box was open. The audience tried to get a glimpse. The camera on a robotic arm captured the glimpse inside and as it flashed on the screens, the audience gasped. It was indeed a Guitar .
Viktor touched the strings as delicately as a father touches his babys fingers, yet it was as firm as a warriors grip on his sword.
Viktor picked up the guitar and pulled the thick strap over his shoulder. He strummed the chords of the guitar to a tune so soulful that it mesmerized everyone present there.
Life is like a guitar, he said. Tune. Play. Repeat .
Facing Problems?
Good, thats cocoon stage
![Vikrmn [Vikrmn] Guru with Guitar](https://litark.com/uploads/posts/book/114813/vikrmn-vikrmn-guru-with-guitar.jpg)
