Page 173 - Till the Last Breath . . .

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Kajal Khurana

Kajal had always found herself in the midst of confusion and mental strife.

Decisions never came easy to her and even if they did, she always
wallowed in doubt and reservation after making them. That day, surrounded

by her technical books on Fourier transforms and traction devices, she
played out her life in her head in technicolour. It seemed everything had

gone wrong, though the worst part of it was that she didn’t have anyone to
talk about it with. She was a rich kid, and it was unfathomable for people
around her to comprehend that she could have any grief to lose sleep over,

beyond the trouble of picking out what new to wear.
It had been a few days since she had decided to snap all ties with Varun,

and despite repeated efforts by him to talk to her, she stood her ground. A
part of her wanted Varun to try harder, to call her and drop by at her college
hostel, insist on dinner, send her flowers, but all she got were a few

persistent calls and texts pleading her to give their relationship another shot.
Sometimes, she knew she was being unreasonable and irrational, but she

had been the understanding person in the relationship for a little too long
now.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to run away now or if it was something she
should have done a very long time ago. But the thought of staying at the

Delhi College of Engineering any more seemed like a pain she couldn’t
endure any longer. It wasn’t what she loved. A little voice in her head told
her she should have listened to her parents—who were never wrong—and

applied for a course in journalism or literature in London.
Her decision was made; it was just a matter of time—she knew—before

she would commit to it and tell her parents about it. Her mom, a rich but