26-02-2024, 05:15 AM
The day began like any other, with Meera Singh stepping out onto her veranda, taking in the familiar sights and sounds of her neighborhood. The sun blazed overhead, casting a golden hue over the patchwork of rooftops lining the narrow streets. The cacophony of car horns, children playing, and stray dogs barking was a constant reminder of the bustling community she called home. But today, there was a new addition to the scene - a moving truck parked outside the vacant house next door.
Meera watched with curiosity as boxes were hauled out and furniture carried inside. She couldn't help but wonder who would be moving in, and what kind of person they might be.
As the day went on, a man emerged from the house next door. He was young, perhaps in his mid twenties, with short brown hair and sharp features. His clothes were casual yet stylish, and he carried himself with an air of confidence that seemed to radiate outward. He saw Meera observing him from across the street and gave her a friendly wave.
She hesitated before returning the gesture, unsure of how to feel about this new neighbor. As she turned away, Meera found herself wondering if he had a family, friends, or even a girlfriend. She shook her head, dismissing the thought as she stepped back inside her house.
Days turned into weeks, and Meera soon realized that her new neighbor had brought an unwelcome change to the neighborhood. Late at night, the sound of laughter and music drifted through the windows, disturbing the peace that Meera had once taken for granted. She didn't know what was going on and suspected the newcomer to indulge in consumption of illegal substances and pre-marital sex.
That thought disturbed Meera immensely, especially considering the close proximity of his residence to hers. She decided to confront him. Gathering her courage, Meera made her way to the neighboring house, her heart pounding in her chest. She knocked on the door with a trembling hand, preparing herself for the confrontation. After a few moments, the door swung open, revealing the young man from earlier.
"Can I help you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Meera's stern expression. She took a deep breath, mustering up all her strength to speak.
"You seem to enjoy making a lot of noise late at night, don't you?" she said, hoping to appear assertive rather than angry.
The young man raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between Meera and the house behind her. "Sorry 'bout that," he replied casually. "I guess we got a bit carried away last night. We'll try to keep it down in the future."
Meera could hardly believe his nonchalant attitude. Wasn't he bothered by the fact that he was disturbing others?
"You bachelors have killed all the morals and traditional values, all you know is partying and doing things that one shouldn't do.
Meera scolded the young man, crossing her arms defensively. "I cannot tolerate this disturbance anymore!"
A hint of amusement flickered across the young man's face, quickly replaced by a look of genuine concern. "I don't know what are you talking about ma'am. You can come in and check. Its just few of my colleagues and we are just working on project while playing some music. If that disturbs you, I will not play music anymore."
Meera eyed him skeptically, weighing whether to trust his words. She decided to enter the house, apprehension creeping in as she crossed the threshold. Inside, she found a group of people huddled around laptops, engrossed in their work. The atmosphere was far more professional than she had anticipated.
Everyone lifted their head and looked at Meera
curiously, surprised by her sudden presence. Feeling awkward, Meera apologized profusely and left without further inquiry. Over the course of the next few days, she observed the comings and goings of people in this mysterious house next door. Most seemed like young guys and girls in their mid to late 20s. All of them were dressed professionally but her orthodox mind still suspected "sinful" activities being committed at her new neighbors house. She talked with her in-laws and their response was the same. They didn't like someone "untraditional" living next to them. Soon all of the Singh household started behaving rude with the newcomer.
Every now and then the entire family would glare at the house next door with anger, sometimes shouting insults or throwing harsh words at the unsuspecting neighbor. One hot summer afternoon, Meera was watering her garden, a task she took great pride in. She noticed the neighbor, standing nearby, watching her intently. She paused, feeling uncomfortable beneath his gaze. Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, she addressed him.
"You never told me your name, stranger," she grumbled, trying to maintain an aloof demeanor.
He smiled politely, revealing perfectly straight teeth. "My name is Rajiv Kumar, ma'am. And yours?"
But without answering the Rajiv, she dropped her watering can and went back inside.
From that day onwards, Meera became increasingly irritated by Rajiv's mere existence. Every time she caught sight of him, she felt her blood boil. She couldn't understand why someone so different from her could cause such a strong reaction within her.
Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity, his carefree mannerism, or the fact that he seemingly had no regard for the customs and traditions she held dear. Whatever the reason, Meera couldn't deny the growing tension between them.
Along with this "Rajeev" dilemma, Meera had one another issue that had been going on in her life. She had been trying to delay the thing but it was just adding up to a bigger explosion. The issue was that after 7 years of marriage, her in-laws were getting sick of 32 year old Meera not giving them a grandkid. But Meera knew about type 2 diabetes her husband was carrying and potential risk of the disease getting passed to her kid if she ever had one with her husband. Also she was a fucking goddess in terms of looks and carried a rich genes from her parents side while her husband was something that people wouldn't qualify as "good-looking". Meera had no intention of letting her kid inherit diabetes and ugly looks from her husband. But constant pestering of her in-laws was getting out of hand.
It had reached a point where they had started hinting that it was best for Meera to leave their son, and find a suitable match elsewhere. That was the final straw for Meera, she decided to think of her Plan B. She had been contemplating it for quite some time, but she had been too scared to voice it aloud. Now, she knew she had no choice. She couldn't let this marriage end. Even though she was goldmine in terms of looks, the nobody in the community she came from would accept a divorcee. Plus her husband had ton of generational wealth and was helping her poor family with financial aid.
So she needed to stay married to him. But what was she supposed to do? Ask her doctor to create a fake negative diagnosis report for her husband? Tell her in-laws that the possibility of passing on diabetes was too high? Or just outright lie to them about their infertility? No… none of this would work. It would only make matters worse.
So she devised a plan B. A drastic and unconventional solution. She would seek artificial insemination. This meant finding a donor who would provide her with sperm, allowing her to conceive a child without the risk of inheriting her husband's diabetes.
However, the prospect of searching for a donor filled Meera with dread. How could she possibly explain her situation to a stranger without revealing the truth about her husband's health? Not to mention the ethical implications of such a decision. Plus words about something like this would easily spread like wildfire and would easily shatter the perfect world she was living in. Also she was not financially able to afford the process without her husbands help. So there was no way she would go with the artificial insemination method.
She needed a way that could be done secretly and done in a way that in the end everything would seem like she was carrying her husband's baby. But how could she do it?
Meera pondered over the question, her heart racing with desperation. The idea of seeking artificial insemination was unthinkable, but the desire to protect her unborn child from a lifetime of suffering was overwhelming. She knew she had to take matters into her own hands, and she knew exactly what needed to be done. She had to shed all her morality and secretly get impregnated by someone suitable.
Someone who was handsome enough to pass good genes to her offspring; someone she could trust implicitly. But who?
In the midst of her deliberations, a startling realization dawned upon Meera. There was someone right next door who fit the bill perfectly. Rajiv Kumar, with his striking features and enigmatic personality, possessed both the physical attractiveness and moral fortitude that Meera believed would contribute positively to her child's life.
Despite her reservations about approaching him, Meera knew that she had no other options.
She swallowed hard, summoning her courage as she walked towards Rajiv's house. Her heart raced, and she struggled to catch her breath, fearing that her resolve would crumble at any moment.
"Rajiv, I need to talk to you," Meera managed to say, knocking softly on his front door. Rajiv opened the door, looking genuinely concerned.
"Is everything alright, Meera?" he asked, noticing the distress etched onto her face. "Would you like to come in?"
Meera hesitated for a moment before accepting his invitation.
As she entered Rajiv's house, she couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between his interior and her own. Modern furnishings, abstract art pieces, and eclectic decorations filled the space, creating a sense of warmth and coziness that Meera had never experienced before. She felt strangely drawn to the place, as if an unseen force was pulling her deeper into the mystery that surrounded Rajiv.
"What brings you here, Meera?" Rajiv asked, leading her to a plush couch nestled in the corner of the room. "Are you alright?
" Rajiv asked kindly, his brow furrowed with concern. "Please tell me what's wrong."
Meera hesitated, struggling to find the appropriate words to share her predicament. "You see, Rajiv," she finally began, "my... my marriage isn't going too well. My in-laws want us to have a child, but my husband suffers from type 2 diabetes, and there's a chance our child may inherit it."
Rajiv listened attentively, his gaze locked on Meera's face.
He could sense the turmoil roiling beneath her composed exterior, and his heart ached for her plight. He wanted nothing more than to offer solace and support, but he remained silent, allowing Meera to continue speaking.
"My marriage is in jeopardy, Rajiv," Meera continued, her voice quivering slightly. "I love my husband, but I can't bear the thought of putting my child at risk. I've considered artificial insemination, but I simply can't afford it."
Meera paused, her voice trailing off as she gazed nervously at Rajiv.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)
