Do you flaunt your happy moments on Facebook, Instagram etc?
Do you make people jealous of the perfect life you are living?
Do you portray yourself as a forever-happy person to your social media followers?
Do you think you are a cyber-world aspiration?
If no, then chill. If yes, then congrats! You are their next target.
What will happen next? Here is an excerpt from the prologue of the book, to give you a glimpse of what’s in store!
October 2018
The Present
She splashed some water on her face, paused, took a breath and then splashed some more. She lifted her head and
looked into the small mirror above the basin. She smiled. Her make-up was spoilt. But that wasn’t the only thing. She had been stubborn enough to be a bad girl.
She still couldn’t believe it. She was in Goa with a man she had met three months ago on Instagram. And now they were here, as he’d randomly planned. For her husband, she was at work. But in reality, she had driven to the airport
to join the man at the T3 terminal of Indira Gandhi International Airport, New Delhi. The plan was to fly to Goa, spend the entire day together at a small resort on the beach and take the late evening flight back to New Delhi. It had sounded like a forbidden fantasy. And now it was a scandalous reality. What had happened in the resort room for the last three hours was both dark and funny. It was dark because she had tried some raunchy positions that were a first for her, along with the realization that she had a thing for them. It was funny because they were role playing as Batman and Catwoman. Her partner had bought the costumes in Delhi. Till then, she had thought it was a joke. She had burst out laughing on seeing the costumes. Hers even had a tail. But, surprising herself, she enjoyed it.
She removed her make-up and sat on the commode to relieve herself. Then she took a few selfies. The post-coital bliss was evident on her face. Next, she started scrolling through her WhatsApp messages. There was a barrage of texts in her girls’ group but none from her husband. She didn’t read any of them. She minimized WhatsApp and tapped on the Instagram app instead. There were a few notifications. One of them was a tag. She clicked on it and was shocked out of her wits. Her partner had posted a picture of her in the Catwoman costume—she was on all fours. She didn’t know when the photo had been taken. Although she was unrecognizable in the costume, this wasn’t a part of the ‘deal’. They had never talked about it, but some things are understood, right? It was a clandestine fling! She was getting angrier with every passing second. She hid the picture from her timeline and untagged herself. She stood up and flushed. She wanted an explanation.
But she froze the moment she stepped inside the room. Her partner was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, still
wearing the Batman mask. He was naked and his throat was slit. Her blood turned cold; she tried screaming but no
sound came out. She wanted to call for help but she didn’t. She looked around. There was nobody. In fact, there were no signs of a struggle at all. The main door was also locked from inside. As the reality of the matter sank in, she walked clumsily towards the body. What should she do? She couldn’t call the police. She couldn’t even call the people who ran the resort. Anything she did would expose her . . . and the fact that she was having an affair. Her whole world would crumble down, just like that. There was nothing that she could do, except . . . pack and run.
With her heart in her mouth, she quickly wore her dress, stuffed everything, including the Catwoman costume, in her bag and dashed out of the room. Thankfully, they had booked their respective tickets and only he had checked into the resort. The plan was to tell the owners that she was his local guest.
She had a lump in her throat. She had covered her face with a scarf and worn big sunglasses when she had arrived. She did the same while leaving. Identifying her wouldn’t be that easy, she hoped. Then she wondered as to whom she was kidding. Tracking her down would be easy if someone wanted to. If someone knew. Tears pricked her eyes as she walked towards a rent-a-car shop to hire a cab to the airport.
A few minutes after she left, the man in the room sat up and wiped off the fake blood from his throat. He removed his mask and picked up a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from a nearby table. All’s well that ends well, he thought as he blew rings of smoke in rapid succession.
