The Superstar

01

The bus conductor yelled the stop name and she jumped up from her seat with her three heavy bags. Her co passenger, a middle aged man helped her with the third bag. She thanked the man and the conductor as she stepped down from the bus and entered the new town, hoping to start the new journey of her life.

Two days back, her worst nightmare had become a reality. The test result confirmed her suspicion. She was pregnant - with the devil's child.

She still couldn't believe she had outsmarted the devil and escaped. Perhaps, his mistake was that he had lowered his guard. He underestimated her, he thought she would never think of an escape, but she did. Not for herself but for the child. She still had no answer if she loved the baby that was growing in her womb but she knew that no child deserves him as the father. Moreover, he doesn't deserve to be called a father and to be a nurturer. Every child looks at their father with a spark in their eyes, almost like looking at a superhero. He doesn't deserve the unconditional love of a child.

She looked at the address on the paper, which directed her to walk a few minutes more. She felt there were eyes on her but when she looked around, she couldn't find anyone particularly looking at her. She covered her head and face with her red scarf and looked down as she started walking towards the direction of the address. She didn't want to risk anyone finding her.

She looked at the paper to confirm the address and indeed, it was this house. The house looked a decent size of two storeys. She rang the door bell but no response.

She knocked on the door.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.

But noone opened the door. She panicked if the address was right or not and just when she was about to step away, the door opened.
She was so glad for the door to open! If not for this house, where would she go?

There stood an old lady in her 60s in a modest cotton saree. She was on the heavier side. Her hair tied in a bun and a round rimmed glasses for her vision to be clear.

"Mrs. Sharma?"

"Pari Madam?" The lady pointed at her to confirm. She nodded her head to answer and removed the scarf that covered her head and face.

Mrs. Sharma smiled at her and asked her to come in. She took in the look of this girl who was going to stay as a paying guest at her home.

She was as beautiful as her name. An angel. Her smooth wheatish skin, the thick black hair which comes a little below her shoulder and the elegant white kurta. She was not the conventional beauty we'd picture when we say "beautiful girl" but the kind that leaves people stunned when they see her.

Pari entered the house and dragged the bags with her. She looked around the house which was small but had a homely feel to it. It reminded her of her own home which was long left back.

"Sorry, I know my home is small but I will try to make your stay as comfortable as possible." Mrs.Sharma said when she noticed Pari staring at her living room.

"It's beautiful. Your home...it's beautiful." Pari turned back and replied. "And you don't need to apologise for anything. I am grateful that you took me in."

"It's not a problem, Madam. Please take a seat. I will bring water for you." Pari could see the tension on Mrs. Sharma's face as she rushed into her kitchen before Pari could say anything.

A moment later, Mrs. Sharma came with a glass of water, offered it to Pari and stood there.

"Please take a seat." Pari didn't want Mrs. Sharma to feel uncomfortable in her own home because of her. She felt like a burden already.

"Mrs. Sharma, Please don't feel uncomfortable in your own home on my account. You are letting me stay here is a big thing. And please call me Pari."

"Then you have to call me aunty." She smiled looking at Pari. It was a sad smile, full of pity. Pari was familiar with these emotions in people's eyes for her. There were only two emotions in people's eyes when they looked at Pari - either of envy or of pity. She hated the look of pity in people's eyes for her. She would rather prefer they be envious of her rather than look at her as a charity case.