A couple of years back I began with the tedious task of penning down my first novel ‘The Aura’ that’s supposed to be a crime thriller. Two years have gone by but I am still far from completing it. So I thought of sharing the first page with you with the hope of seeking your feedback and more importantly some motivation to go about completing it. So, please do tell if you would want to read the completed novel.
Laa ilaaha illal Lahoo Mohammadur Rasool Ullah…
With these final words Sadashiv Gokhale bid adieu to his immortal beloved—the enchanting city of Mumbai that he had ruled for years, often with love, and on those rare occasions that demanded a stern administrator, with an iron fist.
Tears dripped from Pasha’s eyes as he paid his final respects to his master. Gokhale had millions of followers but Pasha was the only one present when Gokhale breathed his last. Such was decreed by Gokhale, for Pasha was the only person he ever trusted with his life. On three separate instances, Pasha had taken the bullet for Gokhale. Such was Gohale’s trust in Pasha that he time and again refused to take any special security cover offered to him by the government.“God sends His angels to protect us,” Gokhale would say in his defense. Pasha was indeed his angel.
Strongly built and medium height with a hardened, nigh expressionless visage, Pasha had an intimidating, almost ferocious presence. He was often called Pasha the Pacifier. But, he ever did little to pacify anyone but Gokhale. Pasha was a butcher by profession. But, few knew that, if need be, he could slay human beings with the same unflinching ease with which he would slaughter the beasts.
“Sada sahib is no more,” Pasha announced at last, “inform the media about his demise,” he added. Soon he was surrounded by a horde of party supporters, some agitated, some dismayed.
Gokhale was people’s leader who ruled over his people’s heart. For four decades, Gokhale was the undisputed king of Mumbai and now that he was dead, the entire city suddenly felt orphaned. Masses, politicians, celebrities, everyone adored him. While his friends loved him, his adversaries admired his guts. Following his rather obscure beginnings, Gokhale had settled down with a yesteryear Bollywood actress and had sired a son named Shaurya who was his mirror image, save his eyes which were his mother’s.
Gokhale’s life was an open book. Or, so everyone thought. For, a dark secret remained buried within his heart until his very last moment.
As the preparations started for Gokhale’s last march, Pasha, his longtime confidante, began to remember a time long gone, an epoch that almost felt like ancient history to him.
Friends, I eagerly look forward to your honest thoughts in the hope that it may give me the push that may be needed to complete The Aura.