What happens, when an angsty teenager meets a bubbly and cheerful kid. 
So, I present you, an overthinking woman's imagination.
My first three part story. All the three parts will be in the same thread this time.
part-1: The boy who hated liars -----pg-1
part-2: The girl who was never hungry.---pg-2
Forgotten Encounters
Part-1: The boy who hated liars.
The first time he saw her, he hated her.
He was already irritated. His mother lied to him and forced everyone to go to Dwarka for some stupid pooja. She thought that doing that pooja would bring back their father.
He scoffed at that idea when he found out the truth and he refused to participate in any stupid antics. In fact, he even declared that he would not participate in that pooja as he didn't want their father back in their lives. His mother slapped him when he said that. In anger, he took some random servant's bike and rode off to cool his head. He didn't where he was going, but he kept on riding.
He then stopped near a lake. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and started smoking. He and Sid got pulled into this habit from their boarding school. At first, He refused to smoke, but sometimes when he was angry at his mother, he smoked as if sort of rebellion against his mother. If she can destroy her life by having hope, then he can also destroy his health. This gave him some wicked sense of defeating her. He hated his mother for still loving that person who abandoned them. 3 years have already passed since that man left with a letter and a massive debt.
That man left a 15-year-old to deal with all the debtors. Aryaman could still remember the day when the mob of debtors came to their house as they heard the news of Bharat Mehta running away.
Ansh and Meghna were too small and scared. His mother was trying to calm them down by talking to them. She was trying her best to control her tears.
The mob became more rowdy. His father's effigy was set up to burn in front of their house. Aryaman heard someone suggest burning their house down also with the family. That was when something snapped inside him. He rushed inside his room and brought the guitar that his dad had gifted him. He stormed inside the crowd and reached the effigy.
He gazed at the crumpled image of his father affixed to a crudely fashioned cloth puppet mounted on a pole. With a sudden, resounding crash, he shattered his guitar into fragments, hushing the crowd into a stunned silence. All eyes turned to him as he glimpsed the remnants of his precious instrument for the final time. Wheeling around, he spotted a man holding petrol and a matchbox. Seizing the items from the man, he ignited his guitar. The fire blazed hungrily savoring his beloved musical instrument. He then poured some petrol over the cloth puppet and pushed it onto the fire. The fire eagerly accepted it causing it to rise higher and reach wider. Spectators recoiled in fear of the spreading inferno, but Aryaman did not move even an inch. The fire kept spreading and Aryaman was really close to it. He was not scared of anything anymore. He turned around and addressed the crowd.
"I, Aryaman Mehta, declare that my father, Bharat Mehta died. This is his last rites," he declared, pointing at the burning effigy. Ignoring his mother's screams, he continued, "I swear over my father's pyre to clear all his debts. Give me six months," he pleaded, the plea almost sounding like a challenge.
As if a divine signal, the fire encircled him, spreading over the spilled oil. The boy stood unwavering in the center of the fiery ring, casting a determined gaze upon the crowd. A hush fell over the onlookers, followed by murmurs of disbelief and amazement. When Aryaman emerged from the fiery circle, it was evident to all that the boy had transformed into a man.
After the crowd dispersed, Aryaman entered the house only to be slapped by his mother.
"How dare you! How dare you declare your father dead and perform his last rites??" His mother shouted at him.
Aryaman did not react. He looked around the house with a resolution in his mind.
"I did not lie, Maa." He said slowly as he walked towards the landline. "My father died today." He had no father anymore.
His mother cried and collapsed on the chair. Meghna looked back and forth between the burning effigy and her eldest brother, anger rising against her brother like the fire outside. Anshuman tried to console their mother and hugged her.
Aryaman did not have any time to spare. He picked up the phone and called Kundan-uncle. "Hello, Uncle it's me. Aryaman. I want to sell our house."
It was then and now.
They sold almost all their valuable possessions. Their house, cars, business shares, gold bonds. They shifted to Kundan-uncle's house. Even though Kundan-uncle was also in huge debt, he helped them with full sincerity. All the children except Piya were sent to boarding school to avoid the hostile environment. Most of the debts were covered in 6 months with Aryaman's decisions.
While in boarding school, Aryaman started secretly working as a night shift waiter in a five-star hotel. It was easy for him to deceive others because he had experienced a significant growth spurt over the year and appeared to be around 19, even though he was only 16. He had invested in creating fake documents and was ready to work. Adults were unaware of this, and it was a secret among the kids. And he just had to buy some hi-class alcohol every week for the warden and security guy. But it was worth all the trouble.
Aryaman used this opportunity to learn more about business. Every waking moment was spent learning new things about business. He never rested because whenever he did, he would have nightmares about people burning their houses with his family inside. He pursued money by working overtime, studying the stock market, and investing in various businesses. Soon, his school life clashed with his professional life, and he became addicted to coffee. Eventually, he found that carrying cigarettes was much easier and switched to that.
He was now eighteen. All the debts were cleared. But now he was ambitious, he needed to regain everything he lost. He must repay Kundan-uncle a hundred times more than he helped. He needed to be stronger to ensure that no one even thought of hurting his family again.
"Mohan!! Be careful!"
A girl's voice caught his attention. He looked around and saw two kids bathing their cow in the lake – a boy and a girl. They were having a great time, laughing and splashing water on each other. He took out another cigarette and lit it. Sitting in the shade of a nearby tree, he lazily observed the joyful kids. They seemed carefree, without any worries. He used to be like that, and so did his family. It made him wonder why his mother wanted the person who had selfishly destroyed their happiness to be back in their lives.
It was love. His mind viciously answered. Love that forgives everything. Love makes you blind and makes you only see that person's happiness no matter how hurt you are. He scoffed at the very idea of love. It was an idiot's way of self-torture and nothing less. Love was nothing more than needless pain. He was better off without love in his life.
"Mohan, if you jump like that.. you will fall.. Mohan! Stop!"
"Didi! See! When I jump, I can reach this tamarind." The little boy cackled and jumped more.
His sister was unsuccessfully trying to stop him. Their cow sat beside munching cud and minding her own business. Aryaman looked at them without any particular thought. The boy was slightly chubby. His elder sister was wearing pigtails. Her back was turned toward him, so Aryaman couldn't see her face. But she looked about Pia's height.
"Mohan, Now.. stop. Now let's take Bhoori back. Papa and Maa will be waiting for us. Now stop."
Mohan kept jumping ignoring his sister, trying to pluck that one dangling tamarind.
The boy slipped and was about to hit his head on a large stone when his sister shielded him.
"Aah!" The girl's painful cry echoed around the lake. Aryaman stood up and ran toward the kids. But he stopped running as he heard the girl's voice.
"Are you alright? Mohan?"
"Didi!!" The younger boy cried. Aryaman just observed them. He couldn't explain why he stopped. But he felt something familiar.
"Are you hurt anywhere?" The girl asked her brother. The brother shook his head. "What about you?"
"Me?" the girl hesitated. Aryaman finally saw her face. Her eyes were teary but her face had one of the brightest smiles he had ever seen. "I am totally fine."
"Lies" Aryaman thought. He could see the blood flowing from the back of her shoulder. She cut herself while protecting her brother.
"Really?" The brother asked innocently. His eyes fell on the drops of blood on her skirt. His eyes widened with shock. The sister saw that and shrugged it off with another lie and an even brighter smile. "Don't worry! Mohan, this is just a small scratch." As if to prove her point, she jumped and pulled the trouble-maker tamarind from the tree using her hurt arm. Aryaman could see the flinch that she tried to hide from her brother. The brother happily took the tamarind looking convinced about his sister's well-being. The sister happily smiled looking at her brother.
That was when Aryaman understood why he stopped. That girl was just like his mother, simpleminded. It was love – that foolish kind of love that allows others to hurt you. She loved her brother excessively, her own pain was inconsequential compared to his happiness. She wasn't deceiving her brother, but she was lying to herself, just like his mother. Her lies had convinced her that she wasn't deeply hurt, or that her pain didn't matter as long as her brother was happy.
He hatefully spat the cigarette and crushed it under his boots.
The children slowly emerged from the lake. The girl held the cow by the rope, while protectively holding her brother's hand as he continued to suck on the tamarind.
Aryaman hated liars. He didn't like her at all.
He started his bike. Without understanding why, he turned around. The kids and the cow were really far away. Even from this distance, he could see two contradictory things clearly. The girl's bleeding shoulder and her bright smile.
He shook his head and rode off to his home.
He really hated liars.
to be continued....
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