A beating heart greets Kanishka as she woke up. Birds began chirping which sounded strange but was actually quite mellifluous as the sky grew dark. She quickly got out of bed and out of the room. The sight she hated most was there.
"Bugh! Bugh!" that man punched her mother.
"You are nothing more than a burden!" he yelled.
It's always been that way, Kanishka's father has always hit her mother after drinking heavily. Her mother begged for mercy on the floor but her father would not stop until Kanishka showed up and threatened to summon the neighbors. Kanishka's threats always work, despite the fact that none of the neighbors care what's going on. Their life is also difficult, possibly even more so than ours.
The government has paid less attention to the city's coastal area. The place is named seemingly out of nowhere because neither the government nor social activists care about it. Since it is rundown and small, even calling it a city is inappropriate. Kanishka's neighbors make money by collecting trash and reselling it for a pittance, barely enough for a mouthful of rice. There was someone Kanishka knew well.
The shabby dressed boy was searching for plastic bottles in a trash can near a restaurant that serves chicken biryani. He smiled and waved when he saw Kanishka. Kanishka approaches him.
"Chara, what's your dream?" asked Kanishka suddenly.
"I wouldn't dare. Dreams are only for those who are rich and have lots of money," Charapata replied with a straight face.
"Really? Do you really have no dreams?" Kanishka was baffled.
"A few days ago, someone asked me the same question. My dream can eat tomorrow morning, I said. Then he handed me a bag of biryani rice. The next day, my photo was widely posted everywhere with caption inviting sympathy at the bottom. He posted it without my permission," Charapata's face was gloomy.
"What's the point?" Kanishka asked once more.
"Being poor means you can't dream. You must put your pride in risk to get just one pack of rice," he answered coldly.
Kanishka stayed quiet. Everything revolves around money. Many people died here as a result of a lack of funds. To keep breathing here, a pride must be sold. Anjali, Diya, and Raghav were all passed away. The doctor came to help after their bodies gone cold, he did not care when they asked for help. Lack of clean water and the abundance of bacteria are the main factors, he said. However, it was impossible to get over all of that even though the neighbors had protested to the government five years ago.
Loss shaped Kanishka to stay strong in the face of the harshness of the world. For Kanishka, mother is a wingless savior. However, her wings were broken ever since she met her father. Tamia, her mother's name. She is the second wife of her father. Her life is always covered like a disgrace. Tamia was always told by him that having Kanishka was a mistake.
Being born from an unwanted uterus is a tragic mistake. Being born in this place is also a big mistake. Kanishka's life is the result of many mistakes.
"How do you feel now?" Kanishka questioned, concerned.
"A little weak," said Tamia with her body lying on the bed.
Kanishka's mother has been ill since Kanishka was in middle school. Tamia spends her days lying and crying. She is begging God for a miracle to cure her lung disease.
"Mother, what's the matter with him?" Kanishka inquires once more.
"What exactly do you mean, sweetheart?" Tamia's tone was flat.
"Why does he only come to visit us on Sundays?" this question was once asked by Kanishka when she was seven years old.
"He is got a lot of work to do," Tamia answered, sadly smiling.
"But why did not he leave us any money?" She replied with her brow furrowed.
"You have to get used to it," Tamia said, closing her eyes as if she needed to rest.
The conversation that afternoon was full of lies. Her mother's answer was always the same and it made Kanishka sick. It's time for her to figure out who this abusive man who is not responsible for her mother and herself is. There is only one possible answer. She had to meet Chara.
The place is tranquil. Extremely quiet. There was not even a single cricket to be heard. However, Kanishka, who had grown up, always woke up in the middle of her deep sleep. Not because of insomnia or something unexpected but because of the visuals that kept flashing through her mind. Silhouettes of the future. Silhouettes of the death of his friends. The dark past hidden by her mother. It all comes down to his father.
The wall clock which displays midnight is dirty and cracked. Karishka believed that now was the perfect time to meet Chara. Charapata is the real name of a man who works as a plastic collector and once stalked Karishka's father's car. Chara is interested in the luxury vehicle. He was baffled because it didn't make sense that office workers could afford such a luxurious vehicle.
Karishka knocked on the old door of the house while standing in front of it. She hopes Chara is still awake. The sound of a doorknob could be heard along with the light from a candle.
"Come in," he said with a with a sleepy eye.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but-"
"Come in first," Chara said, grabbing Kanishka's hand.
Kanishka walks right in. In one corner of the room, she saw a cupboard that was so dusty. This house is obviously unmaintained because Chara's mother and sister died from the same disease as our friends. Chara and her father are busy working to earn a living.
"Don't come at night anymore, the neighbors will think poorly of you," Charapata advised.
"I apologize for bothering Char. Tell me what you saw," Karishka responded.
"Huh? What?" Charapata answered confused
"Three months ago, about you and my father," said Kharishka after taking a deep breath. "I want to know everything."
Half setting of the sun is a sign that Charapata will return home. A slow moving Range Rover with partially closed windows passed in front of him. Kanishka's father, Bhavi, can be seen in open sight. Chara rode after him on a run down bicycle with nearly flat tires. His detective instincts were similar to those of a five year old boy watching his first action movie.
Chara's eyes were wide. The house is large and white with even larger windows. There is a lady present. Her hair is beautifully maintained and her teeth appear to be the result of expensive clinic treatments. After getting out of the car, which was parked in a two door garage, she immediately hugged Bhavi.
"Did you know that woman already?" he wondered aloud.
"Yes, she is his first wife," Karishka answered with her eyes welling up with tears.
Chara is flabbergasted when Karishka discovers the truth. He never told Kanishka because he was afraid she would sad. She truly knows everything. She also knows that her father kept her and her mother hidden for fear of the media discovering that a powerful mayor has a second wife. Of course, it will tarnish Bhavi reputation. Bhavi social status will be  lowered. The worst part is hurting Bhavi's beloved woman.
"May I ask again?" "How do you know?" Chara needs an explanation.
"The box," Kanishka answered.
The wardrobe not only holds clothes but also secrets. Tamia keeps the box hidden behind an old wooden cupboard. Tamia, Bhavi, and the women are all photographed in the box. All of the keywords are present. Kanishka discovered him when she was fifteen years old. She was young enough to be aware of the darkness in his life.
"Kriinggg!"
An old telephone rang in the corner of Chara's living room. He held Karishka's hand because it was a call from Doctor. Charapata's breath became heavy as he looked at Kanishka. This is very bad news. Neighbors who helped clean up Karishka's house found that Tamia was no longer breathing.
Karishka was not too sad, she knew that Tamia's life was not long. What makes Kariska sad is that Bhavi does not show up. There is no shadow of Bhavi visiting after the news of Tamia's death spreads throughout the place. This is not fair to Karishka. What a travesty. Bhavi believes the burden has greatly reduced.
After ten days had passed since Tamia's death, Karishka had one thought. Anjali, Diya, and Raghav are people she wants to catch up with. Living here offers no opportunities or hope. Dead or left behind. She put an end to everything by using a rope she found close to a small store that sells used machinery. She ended it all. Really ended it all.
News of Karishka's death spread farther than her mother's death. National Television and the media got involved. People who kill themselves garner more media attention than those who starve to death. However, Karishka's suicide is quite interesting. The box is next to her body hanging with a letter containing a message to her father, Bhavia Brahmin.
"Have you watched the news?" asked Rama.
"Why? What's the matter, dad?" Chara confused.
"That! your friend!" Rama's finger pointed to the television with a line showing a lacking signal.
Charapata knew that Kanishka was a reckless girl, but not to this level. It's more than reckless. Death and more death. This is a never ending cycle. Charapata wonders when the media will report on how haunted this place is.
Bhavi receives criticism and insults. His life has been ruined. He resigned, and his beloved wife was furious.
"It's all just a Hoax, my dear." Bhavi holds the shoulder of his beloved wife.
"Slaps!" the woman's hand swung. "How dare you do this to me!"
"It's a trap, I would never do this to you," he tried to manipulate her.
The conversation was long and complicated but everyone knows how it ended, divorced. The woman drove her two children in a car with a driver. The driver is ready to take her wherever she wants to go. Bhavi is now alone. Bhavi must face all of his own mistakes.
In the meantime, people sympathize with the neighborhood where Kanishka lives. The new major candidate to replace Bhavi will campaign to improve the place. He made the same promises as all the previous majors. During the campaign, he dresses in simple, almost ugly clothes. When he is elected, he will wear a nice suit and have a big belly full of money from people whose voices he cannot hear.
After eight years, the location is visible to the rest of the world. A world filled with death. The numbers are so dire, so unpredictable, so unbelievable, and so tempting to dismiss them as meaningless statistics. However, it is worthwhile to consider the century. Many souls have been indirectly killed by the majors. It's heartbreaking. Their pure souls are replaced by foolish wisdom.
People are fed up with government nonsense and the drama that surrounds it. However, not everyone is terrible. Humans still have a great deal of faith. Volunteers from different institutions showed up to provide clean water. Many of them help in drain cleaning. Charitable contributions made to mothers and children. Karishka's death was a blessing, Charapata thought.
