“Karma… never loses an address…”

Cursing tearfully, he breathed his last.

Early next morning, a loud shriek awakened the neighborhood. The housemaid trembled in terror as she watched her master, Ramakanth lying in a pool of blood.

A case of burglary and murder was charged as some cash and jewelry were missing.

Soon, the miscreant, Ramakanth’s watchman was arrested. The missing cash and jewelry was retrieved from his residence.

Tejasvi, Ramakanth’s widow wept silently. Was it her fault? She wondered.

“Ma!” her son, Yash bellowed. “Now that appa is dead, I’m the sole heir to this vast property and wealth,” he smirked, scratching his stubble. “I don’t have to beg you for money.”

Tejasvi glanced at him. He had inherited the charming looks from his father. Ramakanth was a self-made man. With hard-work and integrity, he had built his business empire.

However, except for the looks, they were poles apart. Yash was short-tempered and ill-mannered; in short a spoiled, over-pampered man-child. Being born after twelve years of fervent prayers to almost all the deities of that region, Tejasvi never went against his wishes. Day by day, his haughtiness rose. Ramakanth, being a disciplinarian hated her clemency.

One day, a young girl accused Yash of molesting her. Some passersby testified too.

A furious Ramakanth slapped Yash in front of everyone. Admonishing Tejasvi, he locked him in the store room for a whole day without food and water. After that incident, Ramakanth rarely spoke to Yash. His pocket money was stalled.

Time subsided, but the bitterness augmented. One night, Yash in an inebriated state, after an intense squabble, stabbed Ramakanth.

Tejasvi stood horrified.

“You scoundrel! I’ll call the police.”

“Ma, I’ll end my life if you do so,” Yash held the knife close to his throat.

That was enough to melt Tejasvi’s heart.

Yash and his cronies stole some cash and jewelry, and planted them in their watchman’s house, thus falsely framing him.

Soon, Yash was married off, hoping a wife would ‘reform’ his wayward life. But his abusive behavior didn’t spare the poor girl too. Tejasvi witnessed everything like a mute spectator. Was it out of love or fear, she wasn’t sure.

Years passed. Yash’s son, Aditya was the apple of Tejasvi’s eyes. He was sent to a boarding school, as she didn’t wish to foster another Yash. Aditya abhorred Yash for his ill-treatment towards his mother. 

Aditya passed HSC with flying colors. Happily, as he entered home that night, he witnessed a gory sight of his inebriated father thrashing his mother. He pushed Yash.

“How dare you push your father?”

“How dare you hit my mother?” Aditya towered over Yash, grunting and peering with his bloodshot eyes.

“Threatening, eh? Watch me.”

Yanking his wife’s hair, Yash kicked her stomach as she squealed in pain. Tejasvi rushed to help, but Yash kicked her too. An enraged Aditya’s hands landed on a metal statue. With a fierce blow, he smashed Yash’s head.

Karma… never loses an address!
Connect with Penmancy:



Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!

Latest posts by Shilpa Keshav (see all)

Let us know what you think about this story.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

© Penmancy 2018 All rights reserved.
%d bloggers like this: