Tears of Okshana

Moscow , winter, 2007 - It’s late in the night, the snow storm has passed away, leaving a thick blanket of white snow all over the city. In the suburb of Moscow everything looks so calm, almost all the houses in the neighborhood have become sleep haven for its dwellers, except one. The one at the far end of the neighborhood, a huge mansion surrounded by concrete wall protected by heavy security from any trespassers what so ever. The stony gray color of the wall and the house adds more to its august aura. The closer one goes, the wall towers above the tallest trees one has seen. The eeriness of the night almost transforms our imagination to any of the horror movies depicting Count Dracula’s castle. The main entrance looks nothing short of the pearly gates, but the security is probably a lot tighter than St. Peter’s own. One fourth of a mile inside is the castle of Alexis Egorov, the billionaire oil tycoon. The clock struck 2 somewhere in the distant. It’s all dark in the fortress of the czar except for the red blinking lights of the security cameras, which resembled the eyes of mystic creatures of the dark. On the right wing of the castle a window opens, a woman clad only in a bed sheet appears. One hand holding on the sheet to cover her body from the beastly Siberian cold wind and she holds an old letter from man she fell in love with many years back. The silvery light of the moon fell on her face which illuminated her snow white skin, the lines on her face would suggest nothing about her age. She looked on to the lifeless snow clad courtyard, her face showed no emotion, her glistening blue eyes were focused somewhere in the distant, she slowly blinked her eyes and a drop of pearly tear streamed down her frosty cheek. RING RING… the intercom phone rang, as she picked up the phone the sheet fell down from her body, her body was covered by the silver light, enlightening the epitome of feminine exquisite beauty on earth. The voice from the other end was of Ivan the head security of her father’s fortress “Madam Okshana, the helicopter is ready to take off in 45 minutes”. “Spasibo” replies Okshana with a faint smile and wipes the tears from her face, doesn’t bother to pick up the bed sheet and slowly walks in to her bathroom. About a couple of hours back Okshana had got a call from the man from Mombasa, Kenya. It didn’t take her a jiffy to realize who he was. It was her long lost love, he had called to request a rendezvous, his voice was tensed and nervous, the urge of man breathing his last few remaining breath. The call lasted for less than a couple of minutes, but it was enough, the bottled up feelings from the past came soaring up from her stomach almost choking her. In seconds she became oblivious to her surrounding and pictures from the past came flooding back, she started trembling and had to sit down and grab a glass of water.

London, autumn, 1989 - the weather’s a bit chilly for the Indian lad who hails from Chennai, he tightens the scarf around his neck and quickly tucks his hands in warmth of his over coat pockets. As he walks in Holborn-Strand-Convent garden, he notices that the fallen leaves on the ground are not green, but more yellow, red and orange in hue, which is a stark difference from his hometown. His mind drifts back to the warm humid conditions of Chennai, where autumn is non existent let alone winter. His thoughts for once were about his family and friends whom he has left behind to come to London to pursue his Phd in Economics at London School of Economics. It seemed almost surreal to be here, although he is of remarkable intelligence and had uncanny aptitude for unraveling the most complicated math models, but he still couldn’t come to grips with the fact that he made it to the coveted LSE. It’s a dream come true. Right from his early days in high school, he was showed dazzling brilliance in academics particularly in the field of mathematics. Everyone thought he would become an engineer, but that’s not what he had in mind. He stunned everyone by opting to study economics and statistics for his graduation. Beaten path is not his way, he wanted to have a deeper understanding of human beings which lead to him to choose his field of study. By the time he earned his post graduation, he has already written several articles which was published in various journals and earned him quite a reputation in the world of the intellects. But, he still didn’t know what he wants to do in his life. It was the letter from Sir Anthony Hawkins the noble laureate economist which proved to be a game changer. He has been invited to join Sir Hawkins in his research work at LSE. Immediately everything was clear to him, his future dawned on him.
“viky, ahh, there you are, we had been looking for you all over London, you alright?” It was Kevin his flat mate, and also a Phd student at LSE. Although their line of work is quite different, but their mutual respect and admiration sparked immediately after they met. Kevin is working on a thesis on social science.
“ye, just wanted to look around the beautiful city”
“Well forget the tour , get ready for tonight, we have the big ice breaker party tonight! Get ready for piss up mate!” Kevin points at the The Opera Tavern bar while walking towards it. Viky short for Vikram Srivastav, smiles and follows him. It’s been just few weeks he has been in London, he already feels he has found a dear old friend in Kevin. Kevin has developed quite a liking for him too. Viky was quite excited about this party, he is quite an outgoing person and simply likes to be in company of people. But, he had not the faintest idea what this night is going to do to his life.



To be continued................................