Huffs and pants could be heard on the streets of Delhi as a young lad in his early 20s ran-running away from his home; a hell of a home. Nope, I'd rather call it a prison made of bricks. Perhaps a royal dungeon with all the facilities, but yes, still a prison. The young lad had been held prisoner there his whole life, ever since he was born. And Dilraaj Raichand was his incarcerator, his own father. But now he had finally freed himself from the shackles-the shackles of his father's relentless abuse, the shackles of having to be perfect, good at everything, the shackles of the Raichand empire; his father's legacy.

He heard the train's horn blaring as he approached the railway station. He looked around to make sure no one was following him before entering the station. He yearned to permanently detach his father's name from his own. He desired to be something on his own, so he boarded the first train to Lucknow and decided never to return. He wanted to vanish into the path of his new life, forever.

~~~

Rebel. Rebellious. Rebellion.

These words perfectly describe Abhimanyu's personality. But, of course, his reputation was far from what one would call "clean". Oh no! In the slightly modest neighborhood where he lived, he had a tarnished reputation. Of course, his neighbors didn't have high-paying jobs; perhaps they were what one would call a lower middle-class area. Yet, Abhimanyu was the only stain in the neighborhood. The infamous gambler who was always seen losing, but somehow never quitting.

When asked, "Why do you gamble when you have such terrible luck?" He simply replies, "I'm rebelling against my father's norms." Not that anyone knows who his father is; not that anyone even bothered to find out.

He stood on his small balcony, his hands gripping the railings, a loosely wrapped blanket around his waist as he inhaled the fresh air (not really) of Chowk. Another sleepless night for Abhimanyu as he once again dreamed of the same woman he had been dreaming about for the past two years. He had no idea who she was; in fact, he had never seen her in person. But if one were to ask Abhimanyu what the woman was like, he would simply reply, "She's so beautiful, it almost feels like a dream," jokingly, of course.

He let out a sigh as he ran his hand through his dark hair, rubbing his forefinger over the scar at the left corner of his lips. Oh yes, the scar has another story, but that is a tale for another time. He walked into his room where he saw a woman sprawled naked on his bed. He rolled his eyes as he watched her sleep peacefully, slightly snoring. He untied the blanket from around his waist and threw it over her naked body while he got dressed. He pocketed the money the woman had left for him before leaving his small, dusty, and rusty apartment.

Another night, another story, and another woman who paid a good price. But no, Abhimanyu was not a sex worker, not at all. Did he demand money for the night? Yes. But he still was not a sex worker. He simply took any job that paid him well so he could gamble it away the following day. He had no goals, no dreams, no passions at all. Abhimanyu is what you would call a person who is truly "living," even though it may be an unconventional way of "living." But at least he was living and not struggling like most of us. He did not fear tomorrow, and he did not dwell on the past. He truly embraced the gift of the present.

He strolled along the narrow streets of Chowk, heading towards the bus station. He wore loose tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt that clung to his well-built body. Perhaps it was intentional, as Abhimanyu enjoyed flaunting his physique, but who can say for sure?

His dark eyes scanned the street, searching for a tea stall. His favorite masala Chai. Searching for Chai in the morning is something most Indians do anyway.

Finally spotting a tea stall, a small smirk graced his face as he approached and ordered a cup of Chai. With a delightful smile, he happily sipped the hot beverage. He reached for the newspaper lying beside him on the bench. Only God knows how old that newspaper was, but Abhimanyu read it anyway. After all, one should always stay informed about current affairs, right?

After finishing his Chai and reading the paper, he got up and paid for his drink. Despite his disheveled appearance, he had a striking beauty. Oh yes, he did. That's why women were willing to shower him with money every day. However, Abhimanyu felt no pleasure or attraction towards any of the women he had spent nights with. His heart belonged solely to the woman who had stolen his sleep, the woman of his dreams, the one who ruled his nocturnal thoughts.

He continued on his way, heading towards an abandoned elementary school yard where a group of low-level thugs had staked out their territory to gamble. Abhimanyu was a gambler - addicted to gambling and addicted to losing. He enjoyed losing. As he dragged his feet towards the school gate, dust particles floated around his feet with each step he took. He opened the gate, which made a screeching sound that hurt his ears a bit.

"Maybe Raghu should consider using all the money he's stockpiling every time I lose a bet to replace these gates," Abhimanyu muttered. He continued walking until he reached a spot where a group of rowdy men were gambling - playing cards, drinking, and betting on cricket matches.

"Ohhh, someone chose to pay a visit early today," Raghav quipped. Abhimanyu rolled his eyes at his friend - his only friend, to be exact.

Raghav was the first and only person who managed to get close to Abhimanyu when he first arrived in Lucknow. Abhimanyu wasn't one to make friends or form attachments, but Raghav was persistent. He saw something in Abhimanyu's detached demeanor that no one else could. Not that Abhimanyu would openly admit to considering Raghav his friend. However, Raghav didn't need any confirmation.

"What brings you here so early, Abhi?" Raghav asked, stating the obvious. He posed this question to Abhimanyu every day. It seemed as though he was trying to remind Abhimanyu that the path he was treading would lead to no good. However, Raghav couldn't give him direct advice as that would make him a hypocrite, as he was the one who had gotten Abhimanyu into this gambling habit in the first place.

"You know, the usual," Abhimanyu replied briefly. He took a seat at the table where people were playing a card game called teen patti.

"Yo! Abhi, you joining?" one of the men sitting next to Abhimanyu asked as he played his card.

"In the next round," Abhimanyu replied with a yawn. Raghav, now sitting opposite Abhimanyu at the table, snorted.

"The dream woman again?" Raghav asked. Abhimanyu groaned, knowing all too well that Raghav was fully aware of the story of the woman who appeared in his dreams every day. Raghav also knew that Abhimanyu wasn't fond of discussing her, but as his best friend, Raghav took the role of annoying Abhimanyu quite seriously.

"No, it's-"

Before Abhimanyu could reply, the screeching of the gate caught their attention. All the men turned their focus to the gate, where a woman dressed in a lemon-colored patiala suit walked in. From a distance, Abhimanyu couldn't make out her facial features - not that he cared much about them. However, he was slightly amused by the woman's courage to walk right into the den of hungry lions.

"Damn it! She's here again!" Raghav groaned and stood up, making his way towards the woman.

"Again?" Abhimanyu wondered silently. He had never seen this woman here before, but perhaps that was because he rarely showed up so early in the morning. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but question what a woman would be doing among local gamblers and thugs.

"She comes by often?" Abhimanyu asked the man sitting beside him.

"Yeah, almost every day," the man replied.

"Why?" Abhimanyu inquired further.

"She's a school teacher and she believes that her 'orphans' can live and study here," the man responded. "I wonder why a woman would take on orphans if she can't provide them with a proper home. Women are better off cooking and cleaning for their husbands, don't you think?"

Abhimanyu ignored the man's offensive comment and focused on something that really caught his attention - the woman's bravery or sheer foolishness to enter an area filled with obviously unsavory men. He stood up from his seat and made his way towards the woman and Raghav, who were in a heated argument.

As he approached, he could hear the woman's soft voice - a voice so delicate, it could entice any man into a trance.

"Look, I'll pay you all of my life's savings, but I desperately need this place. It's an elementary school; a government elementary school, so I'm allowed to use it. I have certification to open my own orphanage, and I'm a school teacher," the woman pleaded. "I can take legal action against you to remove you, but you seem like a decent guy, so I'm hoping you'll leave this place willingly."

She was simply stunning - breathtakingly beautiful. It was as if the sun had personally bestowed its radiance upon her. Her beauty rivaled that of the first sunrise in the morning. A frown adorned her face, her cheeks slightly flushed with growing anger. Dimples appeared every now and then when she spoke, her lips painted with a lighter shade of red and a small black bindi placed between her eyebrows. Her dark chocolate eyes glared at Raghav as he continued to argue.

"I have never heard of such a law, and regardless, this place is my only source of income. I'm not going to give it up just so a bunch of orphans can have a decent home," Raghav snapped.

Abhimanyu was surprised that Raghav seemed unfazed by the woman's beauty. He himself was moved by her appearance. He had seen more beautiful women in his life, but this woman was different. There was a radiance of pride and self-worth emanating from her, something that Abhimanyu had rarely seen in the women he had encountered. It was mesmerizing.

Lost in his thoughts, he was caught off guard when the woman's voice directed towards him. "What are you looking at, you lazy man?" she snapped, her frown now directed towards him. Abhimanyu was taken aback, unsure of how to respond.

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