18-04-2026, 09:13 PM
Chapter 10: The Gas Agency
A few weeks later, the gas agency opened under my name — Sudha Gas Agency.
The entire area was decorated beautifully for the inauguration ceremony. Bright marigold garlands hung across the entrance, colourful balloons floated in the air, and a large banner with my name in bold letters stretched above the counter. Red carpets were laid out, and a small stage had been set up with chairs for important guests. Reddy Sir had arranged everything perfectly — even the local MLA was present.
I stood there in a new maroon silk saree, my hair neatly tied, wearing the red thread with the Rudraksha bead that the old neighbour had tied around my neck. My heart was pounding with a mix of pride and nervousness.
Reddy Sir arrived in his white car, looking powerful as always. He walked up to the stage, publicly handed me the keys and the ownership papers in front of everyone, and announced loudly,
"This agency now belongs to Sudha. She will run it. She has my full support."
Then he took out a thick envelope and gave it to me with a warm smile.
"Here is two lakhs as my gift. Use it to start the business successfully. All the best, Sudha. I wish you all the luck in the world."
The crowd clapped loudly. My husband Rajesh stood proudly beside me, completely unaware of the real price I had paid for this moment. My three sons were jumping with excitement, looking at the big new shop with wonder.
As I held the keys and the envelope in my hands, a strong wave of pride washed over me. I had done it. I had turned our lives around. No more living in a small slum, struggling for every rupee. No more listening to my sisters calling me a failure. From today, I was a businesswoman — the owner of my own gas agency.
I looked at Reddy Sir for a brief second. Our eyes met. In that one glance, I remembered everything — the cheap lodge, the long night, the morning in my asshole, the risks I had taken. But I quickly smiled and looked away.
Yes, I paid a heavy price… but look at me now. I made it.
I felt truly proud of myself for the first time in my life.
The ceremony ended with sweets being distributed and photos being clicked. As people congratulated me, I stood tall, holding my husband’s hand on one side and my sons’ hands on the other.
I stood outside my new gas agency at sunset, the signboard glowing with my name. My husband and sons were happily helping arrange the cylinders. I looked at them with love, then glanced once more at the envelope Reddy Sir had given me.
A soft smile touched my lips.
Whatever it took… it was worth it.
Chapter 11: From Slum to Bungalow
Two years later, life had completely transformed.
I was no longer the poor slum wife everyone pitied. I had become one of the most successful women in that part of Bangalore.
The gas agency that started under my name had grown rapidly. With Reddy Sir’s support and my own hard work, I expanded it into three more branches. The money flowed in steadily, and I reinvested wisely. Within two years, I had become genuinely wealthy.
We moved out of the small slum house forever.
We now lived in a beautiful, spacious bungalow in Koramangala — a posh locality filled with rich families, businessmen, and politicians. The house had a big garden, a driveway for two cars, marble flooring, and air-conditioned rooms. My three sons had their own spacious bedrooms, and I finally had a proper kitchen and a luxurious bedroom where I no longer had to worry about being quiet at night.
Rajesh had completely quit rowdyism. With Reddy Sir’s guidance, he entered politics. He started as a local worker under Reddy Sir and the MLA, handling constituency matters. He was now respected, wore clean clothes, and carried himself with dignity. The violent, alcohol-filled days were gone.
My sons were studying in one of the best private colleges in Bangalore, surrounded by the children of rich businessmen, doctors, and politicians. They spoke fluent English, wore proper uniforms, and carried confidence I could never have imagined.
But the sweetest victory came from my family.
I had become richer than all my three sisters combined — and richer than almost everyone in the entire street where my parents had disowned me years ago. The same relatives who once looked down on me for marrying a rowdy now spoke about me with envy and respect.
One evening, my father and mother came to visit our new bungalow. For the first time in many years, I saw tears of pride in their eyes.
"We were wrong, Sudha," my father said emotionally, looking around at our beautiful home. "You have made us so proud. We never thought our daughter would reach this height."
My mother hugged me tightly, crying softly. "You have succeeded where we all failed. You are the richest and most respected among all our relatives now."
I smiled warmly, but inside I carried the heavy secret of how I had actually achieved all this.
On the surface, everything looked perfect. We were rich. We were respected. My family was happy and secure.
I had succeeded beyond my wildest dreams.
Yet every night, when I lay in my luxurious king-size bed next to my loyal husband, memories of those nights in the cheap lodge with Reddy Sir, and that risky morning with the old neighbour, still flashed in my mind.
I had paid a very private price for this golden life.
But looking at my sons’ bright futures and my parents’ proud faces, I told myself again and again:
It was all worth it.
Regards
Novelist Casanova
A few weeks later, the gas agency opened under my name — Sudha Gas Agency.
The entire area was decorated beautifully for the inauguration ceremony. Bright marigold garlands hung across the entrance, colourful balloons floated in the air, and a large banner with my name in bold letters stretched above the counter. Red carpets were laid out, and a small stage had been set up with chairs for important guests. Reddy Sir had arranged everything perfectly — even the local MLA was present.
I stood there in a new maroon silk saree, my hair neatly tied, wearing the red thread with the Rudraksha bead that the old neighbour had tied around my neck. My heart was pounding with a mix of pride and nervousness.
Reddy Sir arrived in his white car, looking powerful as always. He walked up to the stage, publicly handed me the keys and the ownership papers in front of everyone, and announced loudly,
"This agency now belongs to Sudha. She will run it. She has my full support."
Then he took out a thick envelope and gave it to me with a warm smile.
"Here is two lakhs as my gift. Use it to start the business successfully. All the best, Sudha. I wish you all the luck in the world."
The crowd clapped loudly. My husband Rajesh stood proudly beside me, completely unaware of the real price I had paid for this moment. My three sons were jumping with excitement, looking at the big new shop with wonder.
As I held the keys and the envelope in my hands, a strong wave of pride washed over me. I had done it. I had turned our lives around. No more living in a small slum, struggling for every rupee. No more listening to my sisters calling me a failure. From today, I was a businesswoman — the owner of my own gas agency.
I looked at Reddy Sir for a brief second. Our eyes met. In that one glance, I remembered everything — the cheap lodge, the long night, the morning in my asshole, the risks I had taken. But I quickly smiled and looked away.
Yes, I paid a heavy price… but look at me now. I made it.
I felt truly proud of myself for the first time in my life.
The ceremony ended with sweets being distributed and photos being clicked. As people congratulated me, I stood tall, holding my husband’s hand on one side and my sons’ hands on the other.
I stood outside my new gas agency at sunset, the signboard glowing with my name. My husband and sons were happily helping arrange the cylinders. I looked at them with love, then glanced once more at the envelope Reddy Sir had given me.
A soft smile touched my lips.
Whatever it took… it was worth it.
Chapter 11: From Slum to Bungalow
Two years later, life had completely transformed.
I was no longer the poor slum wife everyone pitied. I had become one of the most successful women in that part of Bangalore.
The gas agency that started under my name had grown rapidly. With Reddy Sir’s support and my own hard work, I expanded it into three more branches. The money flowed in steadily, and I reinvested wisely. Within two years, I had become genuinely wealthy.
We moved out of the small slum house forever.
We now lived in a beautiful, spacious bungalow in Koramangala — a posh locality filled with rich families, businessmen, and politicians. The house had a big garden, a driveway for two cars, marble flooring, and air-conditioned rooms. My three sons had their own spacious bedrooms, and I finally had a proper kitchen and a luxurious bedroom where I no longer had to worry about being quiet at night.
Rajesh had completely quit rowdyism. With Reddy Sir’s guidance, he entered politics. He started as a local worker under Reddy Sir and the MLA, handling constituency matters. He was now respected, wore clean clothes, and carried himself with dignity. The violent, alcohol-filled days were gone.
My sons were studying in one of the best private colleges in Bangalore, surrounded by the children of rich businessmen, doctors, and politicians. They spoke fluent English, wore proper uniforms, and carried confidence I could never have imagined.
But the sweetest victory came from my family.
I had become richer than all my three sisters combined — and richer than almost everyone in the entire street where my parents had disowned me years ago. The same relatives who once looked down on me for marrying a rowdy now spoke about me with envy and respect.
One evening, my father and mother came to visit our new bungalow. For the first time in many years, I saw tears of pride in their eyes.
"We were wrong, Sudha," my father said emotionally, looking around at our beautiful home. "You have made us so proud. We never thought our daughter would reach this height."
My mother hugged me tightly, crying softly. "You have succeeded where we all failed. You are the richest and most respected among all our relatives now."
I smiled warmly, but inside I carried the heavy secret of how I had actually achieved all this.
On the surface, everything looked perfect. We were rich. We were respected. My family was happy and secure.
I had succeeded beyond my wildest dreams.
Yet every night, when I lay in my luxurious king-size bed next to my loyal husband, memories of those nights in the cheap lodge with Reddy Sir, and that risky morning with the old neighbour, still flashed in my mind.
I had paid a very private price for this golden life.
But looking at my sons’ bright futures and my parents’ proud faces, I told myself again and again:
It was all worth it.
The End
Regards
Novelist Casanova
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