08-02-2026, 06:04 PM
Chapter 72 – Bharaths staged Drunken act!
The bar was dim and smoky, tucked away on a quiet ECR side road. Bharath sat in the corner booth, half-empty whiskey glass in front of him, untouched for the last twenty minutes. He had ordered it for show.
Earlier, when the traffic cops had stopped him near the hospital barricades, he had slipped them a bottle of premium wine and a thick envelope of cash. One of them — the senior constable with the thick mustache — had grinned wide.
“Sir, because of you we got heavy dose today. This payment is not enough, sir.”
Bharath had smiled — calm, generous — and handed over another 5,000 rupees without a word.
It was 7 p.m. now.
He had nursed the glass slowly, letting the minutes crawl. He needed to smell of liquor. Look unsteady. Act broken.
At 10 p.m., he stood, paid the bill in cash, and walked to the Thar with deliberate stagger — shoulders slumped, steps uneven. He got behind the wheel, started the engine, and drove home.
The beach house lights were still on.
Mirnaa had stayed awake.
She had waited for a call — any message — after the morning hug. Nothing came. No update about Manya. No “I’m fine.” No “I’ll be late.”
She sat in the living room, phone in hand, saree changed to a simple nighty, worry creasing her brow.
Did Manya reject him? Did something go wrong?
When the Thar’s headlights swept across the gate, she stood up fast.
The front door opened.
Bharath stumbled in — eyes glassy, shirt untucked, reeking of whiskey. He leaned heavily against the wall, breathing hard.
Mirnaa’s heart lurched.
“Bharath!”
She raced forward, caught his arm before he could fall.
He smelled strongly of liquor — sharp, sour. She hated the scent, but she held him anyway.
Vikram appeared from the hallway, eyes narrowing.
He ran over, caught Bharath’s other arm.
Together they half-carried, half-dragged him to the guest room.
Bharath mumbled incoherently — slurred words, heavy breaths.
They laid him on the bed.
Vikram loosened Bharath’s collar, removed his shoes.
Mirnaa stood at the door, hands clasped, worried.
Vikram sighed. “Let him sleep it off.”
He turned to leave.
Bharath’s hand suddenly shot out — grabbed Vikram’s wrist.
Vikram froze.
Bharath’s voice came out — thick, broken, but clear enough.
“I was cheated again, Vikram… I was… I went to meet Manya she ditched me again...”
He looked up — eyes wet, voice cracking.
“Why no one can see the good in me? Even you see me as a villain, right?”
He turned his head toward Mirnaa.
“Mirnaa… you? Did you see me as a villain? The first day you saw me… villain, right?”
Mirnaa stepped closer, voice trembling. “No… no, Bharath…”
Bharath continued — words tumbling, raw.
“I too wanted a peaceful life… why all of you are pushing me…”
He burst — fake sobs, shoulders shaking.
He reached toward Mirnaa — hand shaking.
“Mirnaa… I have been picking you up daily… did my finger lay on you even once? She is telling me I’m a sex maniac… do I look like one?”
Mirnaa’s eyes widened — guilt crashing over her.
Bharath’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“One doesn’t want to live with me… one doesn’t want to show my daughter… my parents… all troubles there… Rishi is the only one who’s helping me… now Mirnaa…”
He acted like he was falling — body slumping forward.
Mirnaa instinctively caught him — arms around his shoulders.
“Save me…” he blabbered. “Help me…”
His head lolled against her breast — staged, perfect.
Then — silence.
He went still — breathing deep, like sleep had taken him.
Mirnaa held him a moment longer — she felt really bad almost a tear dropped.
Vikram watched — face unreadable.
Mirnaa gently laid Bharath back on the pillow, pulled the blanket over him.
She looked at Vikram — voice small.
“He’s… really broken.”
Vikram nodded once.
“Let him rest.”
They left the room.
In the dark, Bharath opened his eyes.
He stared at the ceiling.
A slow smile spread across his face.
The performance had worked.
Mirnaa had held him.
She had cried for him.
And Vikram had seen it all.
Back in the room, first time in years. Mirna and Vikram slept separately in the same bed, her head was not on his chest. he turned her back and thinking about Bharath. Vikram realized Manya is out officially, he might ask for Mirna..
Both slept separately in same bed. Bharath win starts indirectly!
The bar was dim and smoky, tucked away on a quiet ECR side road. Bharath sat in the corner booth, half-empty whiskey glass in front of him, untouched for the last twenty minutes. He had ordered it for show.
Earlier, when the traffic cops had stopped him near the hospital barricades, he had slipped them a bottle of premium wine and a thick envelope of cash. One of them — the senior constable with the thick mustache — had grinned wide.
“Sir, because of you we got heavy dose today. This payment is not enough, sir.”
Bharath had smiled — calm, generous — and handed over another 5,000 rupees without a word.
It was 7 p.m. now.
He had nursed the glass slowly, letting the minutes crawl. He needed to smell of liquor. Look unsteady. Act broken.
At 10 p.m., he stood, paid the bill in cash, and walked to the Thar with deliberate stagger — shoulders slumped, steps uneven. He got behind the wheel, started the engine, and drove home.
The beach house lights were still on.
Mirnaa had stayed awake.
She had waited for a call — any message — after the morning hug. Nothing came. No update about Manya. No “I’m fine.” No “I’ll be late.”
She sat in the living room, phone in hand, saree changed to a simple nighty, worry creasing her brow.
Did Manya reject him? Did something go wrong?
When the Thar’s headlights swept across the gate, she stood up fast.
The front door opened.
Bharath stumbled in — eyes glassy, shirt untucked, reeking of whiskey. He leaned heavily against the wall, breathing hard.
Mirnaa’s heart lurched.
“Bharath!”
She raced forward, caught his arm before he could fall.
He smelled strongly of liquor — sharp, sour. She hated the scent, but she held him anyway.
Vikram appeared from the hallway, eyes narrowing.
He ran over, caught Bharath’s other arm.
Together they half-carried, half-dragged him to the guest room.
Bharath mumbled incoherently — slurred words, heavy breaths.
They laid him on the bed.
Vikram loosened Bharath’s collar, removed his shoes.
Mirnaa stood at the door, hands clasped, worried.
Vikram sighed. “Let him sleep it off.”
He turned to leave.
Bharath’s hand suddenly shot out — grabbed Vikram’s wrist.
Vikram froze.
Bharath’s voice came out — thick, broken, but clear enough.
“I was cheated again, Vikram… I was… I went to meet Manya she ditched me again...”
He looked up — eyes wet, voice cracking.
“Why no one can see the good in me? Even you see me as a villain, right?”
He turned his head toward Mirnaa.
“Mirnaa… you? Did you see me as a villain? The first day you saw me… villain, right?”
Mirnaa stepped closer, voice trembling. “No… no, Bharath…”
Bharath continued — words tumbling, raw.
“I too wanted a peaceful life… why all of you are pushing me…”
He burst — fake sobs, shoulders shaking.
He reached toward Mirnaa — hand shaking.
“Mirnaa… I have been picking you up daily… did my finger lay on you even once? She is telling me I’m a sex maniac… do I look like one?”
Mirnaa’s eyes widened — guilt crashing over her.
Bharath’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“One doesn’t want to live with me… one doesn’t want to show my daughter… my parents… all troubles there… Rishi is the only one who’s helping me… now Mirnaa…”
He acted like he was falling — body slumping forward.
Mirnaa instinctively caught him — arms around his shoulders.
“Save me…” he blabbered. “Help me…”
His head lolled against her breast — staged, perfect.
Then — silence.
He went still — breathing deep, like sleep had taken him.
Mirnaa held him a moment longer — she felt really bad almost a tear dropped.
Vikram watched — face unreadable.
Mirnaa gently laid Bharath back on the pillow, pulled the blanket over him.
She looked at Vikram — voice small.
“He’s… really broken.”
Vikram nodded once.
“Let him rest.”
They left the room.
In the dark, Bharath opened his eyes.
He stared at the ceiling.
A slow smile spread across his face.
The performance had worked.
Mirnaa had held him.
She had cried for him.
And Vikram had seen it all.
Back in the room, first time in years. Mirna and Vikram slept separately in the same bed, her head was not on his chest. he turned her back and thinking about Bharath. Vikram realized Manya is out officially, he might ask for Mirna..
Both slept separately in same bed. Bharath win starts indirectly!
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