Kripa sauntered into his bedroom after yet another night of frivolities. He had lost count of the number of parties he had hopped in and out of today - a birthday party here, a music launch there, a film success party and the last one, he has not even sure of what, the hosts of the last party were celebrating.
Life was good , no it was great. The production house was doing well, his movies were successful. He was the life of every party. He had built a strong support system around him - parents , friends and a sweetheart. No, the problem was that life was too good - predictable, perhaps boring.
Make no mistake, Kripa was as much as self made man and he was born into celebritydom. Much of the second and third decade of this life were dedicated to movies. Today he was reaping the benefits. He was happy but ..., and here comes the "but" that usually means trouble for the section of the sentence that comes before the word.
Back to the protagonist of my story - Kripa was pleasantly buzzed. The fear of an ever expanding mid section had instilled the fear of "spirits" in him. It was not yet midnight and he still had a long way to go before he fell into oblivion. He looked around his room . He almost reached out to his mobile and then decided against calling his sweatheart. They were yet to recover from the tiff in the morning and it was too soon to hope there would be no drama.
He fired up his laptop instead. He still didn't feel like reaching out to the public on the social platforms that he was so active on either. A few random clicks later he found himself poring through his personal email. His minions man all his various ids except for this one. He still fought for the last thread of privacy that his station in life was trying to encroach up on . The usual mails , a few hellos from ghosts from the past, congratulatory messages from the people who still loved writing personal messages. On nay other day , he would have loved to read one of those but not today. Today he continued scrolling until - Maxi.
Back to the protagonist of my story - Kripa was pleasantly buzzed. The fear of an ever expanding mid section had instilled the fear of "spirits" in him. It was not yet midnight and he still had a long way to go before he fell into oblivion. He looked around his room . He almost reached out to his mobile and then decided against calling his sweatheart. They were yet to recover from the tiff in the morning and it was too soon to hope there would be no drama.
He fired up his laptop instead. He still didn't feel like reaching out to the public on the social platforms that he was so active on either. A few random clicks later he found himself poring through his personal email. His minions man all his various ids except for this one. He still fought for the last thread of privacy that his station in life was trying to encroach up on . The usual mails , a few hellos from ghosts from the past, congratulatory messages from the people who still loved writing personal messages. On nay other day , he would have loved to read one of those but not today. Today he continued scrolling until - Maxi.
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