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Authors: Rochak Bhatnagar

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The Curse of That Night

BOOK: The Curse of That Night
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The Curse of that Night

... I Love you Rachu ...

 

 

 

About the Author

 

 

Rochak’s first novel,
Love Happens only Once,
published in 2011 became a national bestseller within a couple of months.

Rochak’s second novel,
One Life, One Love,
a sequel to
Love Happens only Once,
too, shot up the charts.

Rochak Bhatnagar is an engineer by profession but writing romantic fiction and crime thriller is his passion. Rochak did his schooling from Amity International School Delhi, going on to Gautam Budh Technical University, Lucknow.

Inspired by the events around his environs, his stories are realistic with a hidden message for the readers.

Currently residing in New Delhi, he loves to pen down his thoughts and interact with his fans whenever free.

To connect with Rochak, you can simply visit his Facebook page,
www.facebook.com/rochak.bhatnagar.

Or mail him at
[email protected].

To get all the updates regarding
The Curse of that
Night
, join the official Facebook page,
www.facebook.com/curseofnight.

... I Love you Rachu ...

Dear Frnds pls spread this msg until its reach to my rachu

I thinks see knows my name

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The Curse of that Night

 

She lived foreve
r
...

 

 

 

 

ROCHAK BHATNAGAR

 

 

 

 
... I Love you Rachu ...

 

 

 

 

GENERAL PRESS

 

Published by

GENERAL PRESS

4228/1, Ansari Road, Daryaganj

New Delhi – 110002

Ph. : 011 – 23282971, 9911359970

e-mail : [email protected]

 

 

© Rochak Bhatnagar

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.

 

First Edition : October 2013

 

ISBN : 9789380914664

 

Edited by Mohit Naryani

 

Purchase our books online from:

www.flipkart.com

www.homeshop18.com

 

 

Published by Azeem Ahmad Khan for General Press

... I Love you Rachu ...

Dear Frnds pls spread this msg until its reach to my rachu

I thinks see knows my name

Book Downloaded from: 
EBOOK4IN.BLOGSPOT.COM

 

 

 

 

Dedication

 

 

Dedicated to every single woman out there… You all are the most precious and beautiful creation of God…

Be proud of yourself…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The contents of this book are not intended to hurt any sentiments… it’s only against the inhuman disposition of certain specific individuals…

 

 

 

6,83,000 rapes are committed every year, which means 56,916 per month, 1897 per day and 79 per hour...

 

 

 

Acknowledgement

 

 

Now that I have completed this book,
I wish to personally thank the following people for their contributions to my inspiration, knowledge and any other help in creating this book.

Firstly, God... for always residing in me and prodding me to write more and more.

Lots and lots of love to my Mom and Dad for their never ending love and for instilling in me, the confidence that I could achieve anything I wanted.

Thanks to Shalini Kapoor for providing me with all the necessary information that I wanted. Thanks a lot di! I owe you one…

Thanks to all the leading newspapers and news channels for keeping me updated with the latest news and articles around the globe.

Big thanks to all my readers who write in and send so much love. You’ve made my debut characters stay in my life for such a long period, especially Rishi and Ananya. You all share an important part of my life. Sincere and heartful thanks to all of you.

I would also like to thank all my friends and family in Delhi or anywhere around the world who believe(d) in me. Thanks for always being there for me and motivating me in every aspect of life.

Finally, I would like to thank Mr Azeem for helping me, every moment that I faced any doubts relating to writing or publishing. Your hard work has been the catalyst in the success of
‘Love Happens only Once’
and
‘One Life One Love’
.

In the end, a big thanks to
you
, for purchasing this book and giving it a try. See you on facebook!

Happy Reading!!!

... I Love you Rachu ...

Dear Frnds pls spread this msg until its reach to my rachu

I thinks see knows my name

Book Downloaded from: 
EBOOK4IN.BLOGSPOT.COM

 

 

 

 

Before I Begin…

 

 

Nobody lives forever; death is an inevitable reality of life. And so, the question is not about the time of death, but what is left after it.

Imagine you have been dead for a few years and come back to visit the people you left behind – your family, friends and most importantly your society. Are you remembered the way you thought you’d be? Are you still important in their lives? Did your absence affect their lives at all? Answers to these questions will help you realise the impact your life had on the people you lived with – your own legacy.

Your legacy is the celebration of your life – the person you are, the things you do and the impact that you have on those around you. Leaving a huge fortune won’t give you a ‘remembrance period’ of more than a generation, even a billion for that matter. Rather it’s what you do with that money for the society is what matters. It’s about how you make yourself useful to those around you.

Your attitude dictates and controls your life, influencing how you see and interact with the universe. Further, what happens to you is not important but how you respond to what happens to you and your loved ones is. Thus the critical difference lies in your attitude towards life.

You may regret about how you have spent your life so far. But it’s never too late to start afresh. You are the author of your story, you can still write a fitting climax. Everything... small or big, that you write in the ‘Book of Life’ will determine the kind of legacy you will leave behind…

The decision is yours… Only yours…

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

He was sound asleep and why not... after a tiresome day of boisterous schedule, all you need is a comfortable bed to crash on. Unfortunately, his luck was out of gas.

At first he thought he had imagined the sound that woke him up. But then it happened again. He blinked and sat up on his bed. It took him a minute to realise that it was a noise – a wail.

“Aaaahhh,” a howl that could wake up the entire neighbourhood.

“Not again,” he jumped out of his bed.

It was his sister.

“Chutki, what happened?”

“Just go, dare you come near me,” she said.

“Chutki it’s me. Dada. Your brother,” he tried to calm her down.

“No. I will kill you,” and then he noticed, she was carrying a knife.

He went towards her risking his own life and embraced her tightly into his arms.

“Dada, they will kill me Dada,” she was scared. Too scared.

“No one is killing you Chutki. I am with you. Your Dada is here with you,” he said.

“Dada, they are coming to kill me Dada,” she was trembling with fear.

His embrace tightened. He cursed that night when it all happened. The night when his sweet sister was RAPED.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

Abhijeet Raichand

 

 

 

 

 

It was perhaps one of the costliest nightclubs of Delhi. A drinking establishment where the rich came to relax and socialise after a hard day of work, or for enjoying the weekend with friends and townsfolk.

The walls were a variety of brown hues that glowed golden in the yellow lights hanging from the rafter. The interior had a warm glow to it, giving a homey feel so that people could forget their worries and just relax. It had a big antique bar with beautiful wood and detailed carpentry. The collection of beer varied for the local customers and there were many brews that originated locally. There was a brewery behind the building with its metal exterior hidden from the street.

The Bartender knew how to maintain the illusion that you were in his house rather than his work place and that was the ‘icing on the cake’.

He got out of his car, a brand new Audi R8 and walked towards the entrance of the nightclub. As he entered the joint, the intermingled smell of smoke and sweat and too many people, assaulted his nostrils instantly as he inhaled deeply.

‘Ahhh, it’s going to be a long night’, he thought and pushed his body through the pulsating throng.

Finally, finding his way to an empty barstool in a corner he asked the bartender for a shot of Vodka martini. And the bartender nodded and melted away into the cries of a hundred other thirsty patrons.

His eyes were adjusting to the imminent darkness, tomblike and womblike at the same time. Bright spots of neon beer signs on the wall stood out, illuminating the face and cleavage of the pretty girls, while others disappeared into the contrasting darkness. ‘How many of these people have I met before? How many of them would make love tonight? How many would die drinking tonight?’ he wondered.

A moment later, even before this thought was bygone, his drink was in front of him, and the bartender was gone before he could even look up to mouth the word, ‘Thanks’.

“Wouldn’t have mattered anyway,” he mused, as it was clear gratitude is spoken with cash and not words.

Everyone’s your best friend when you’re flying high, you know.

He took a sip from the drink… cold and icy, slightly sweet. He held the drink in his mouth for a moment and let the ice and alcohol wallow against his tongue, feeling like a man in solitary, kissing his first woman passionately.

And after that how many shots he took, he didn’t even count.

The clock showed 12:30 a.m. Almost everyone was gone; time to shut down. All hail Delhi Police and its rules.

“Sir, we are about to close the bar. This will be your last drink sir,” said the bartender.

“But, am still thirsty dude,” he said.

“I am sorry sir. I can’t help you. You need to leave,” the bartender requested politely.

“Fuck you!” he showed him the middle finger.

“Any problem sir?” the manager of the club intervened.

“Just ask you bloody bartender to serve me another drink,” he said.

“Sir, the bar is closed. I am sorry but you need to leave.”

“Here take it and fill in the amount,” he offered the manager a blank cheque.

“Sir, I can’t take any money from you. Rules are rules. We don’t serve alcohol beyond 12:30 a.m. Please sir, you need to leave,” said the manager.

“Who said I am giving you money for the drinks. I am buying this club. Just fill in the amount.”

That was Abhijeet Raichand. The biggest lawyer of New Delhi.

Abhijeet was ten when his Mom left his Dad and ran away with her lover. He was living in the outskirts of Mumbai at a place called Lonavala when his Dad decided to take him and his brother to Delhi so that they could get proper education.

He had just passed high school and was harboring dreams of pursuing law. His Dad owned a small restaurant which brought in a decent income.

Even though they never had shortage of money, they neither had excess of it. They were still happy; he, his Dad and his brother, who was five years younger to him. His Dad worked hard and as he grew up, he decided to get along with his Dad leaving behind his dream of becoming a lawyer. He had always been good at studies. Everything was going on smoothly till his Dad died in an accident. The auto he was travelling in got hit by a bus coming from the opposite direction. Both the vehicles were moving at high speed and the collision was powerful. Too powerful for his Dad to survive.

As soon as Abhijeet got to know about the accident, he rushed to the filthy government hospital his father was taken to by the local police. Abhijeet had no means of getting his Dad transferred to a better private hospital. He checked his savings. Not enough. He felt helpless. The amount left was not much help. He was just eighteen and too panicky to deal with all that by himself.

He saw his father die, right in front of his eyes.

 

It had been five years since his father was gone, and by that time he was responsible enough to take care of himself and his brother. He always ran away from any kind of emotional attachment with anyone; he didn’t want to lose anyone else.

He just had one aim left – ‘make money’. He believed that he lost his father because he didn’t have enough money to save him. Had they been rich they would have got better medication and his father would have survived.

Abhijeet got admission in Faculty of Law, University of Delhi. He used to work every single hour, endlessly to achieve something in life. One thing that attracted him was money. After a couple of years of consistent hard work he got his first break. One more year and small cases started popping up.

The case that got him into the big league came few years into his career. This was the IT Company Case which was related to intricate questions in company law. Abhijeet’s client had lost in the high court to the arguments of the famous public prosecutor. Abhijeet defended him with great technical brilliance in the Supreme Court, which finally ruled in favour of Abhijeet’s client.

Even as he climbed the ‘greasy pole of success’, he often found himself drawn to hopeless cases. Maybe, it’s because he believed in the saying: ‘The important thing is not winning, but taking part; the important thing in life is not conquering, but fighting’.

He charged 2.5 to 3 lakh for a five minute argument on admission day, while a day-long hearing could see him earn upwards of Rs 25 lakhs. And this made him one of the highest paid lawyers of New Delhi.

His fame started to flourish enough to get media attention and soon he became the biggest lawyer of Delhi.

 

The villa was tastefully done up with each room adorning a different theme of colours on the walls. The drawing room had white walls with paintings by famous painters forming a round design on one of them. The furniture included a Durian sofa, two bean bags and a bar cabinet with all sorts of international wines. The 65” LED television set and the attached home theatre system added to the beauty.

The master bedroom had a blue theme with walls painted in lighter shades. Abhijeet dropped his car keys on the table adjacent to the bed and jumped into the bed.

It was 2 a.m. when he got back but sleep was nowhere in sight. He cursed himself for falling for her, for getting distracted from his path. The path of earning more, more and more.

He had been trying to hold back and not get close to her. But in vain.

How could he let it happen? How could he fall for her? How could he love her so much? How could he plan his future with her?

Malvika – the one person he loved the most….

 

BOOK: The Curse of That Night
9.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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