دانلود رمان انگلیسی “متقلبان”

I’m at Dharamkot, near Mcleod Ganj, Himachal Pradesh. Everyone is in their rooms. By everyone else I mean the director, the director of photography, the producer, and me, the art director. We are here for a weeklong film recce. Even though I’m in my room, I’m not able to fall sleep. In spite of being under two blankets, my legs drawn up to my chest, and wearing woollens, I can still feel the chill in my bones. We got this house through Airbnb; we have four rooms. But we only have basic amenities. Personally, I hate nights like these when sleep is a far cry and thoughts from the past hover over my mind. I did WhatsApp my husband, Raghav, but he is asleep. It’s 2.30 a.m. What else will he do after working his ass off as a creative director in a premiere advertising agency in Mumbai. He has some important meeting early tomorrow morning. During nights like these I have a bad habit of revisiting my past. What happened, what couldn’t happen and what could have happened. I’ve always been a reader. Especially of love stories. They made me believe, from a young age, that a person can only have one soulmate. But as I grew up, I realized there could be more than one. I’ve had two. The first destroyed me and the second created me. His name is Kshay—the one who destroyed me. I’ve known many souls but none like Kshay. When he was with me, I could read it in his eyes that he couldn’t be anywhere else. But the moment we parted ways, I knew he wouldn’t try to get in touch with me ever. I had always been the one initiating things. It irked me. It pulled down my self-esteem. But I still did it. I did it for five long years. Then I told him I was done with him. But on nights like these I realize it’s a lie. I’m not done with him. Maybe I’m done with his presence. But what about his absence? When you become way too wary of someone’s absence, that too, is a kind of presence, isn’t it? The realization was scary. It occurred to me when I was with Raghav one day. And I still felt lonely. The worst kind of loneliness is when you are with your lover and his warmth doesn’t reach your heart. It made me aware of all the lies I had been telling myself. All the pretence I chose in order to ‘move on’. I still remember the day I met Kshay. It was so casual that I never could imagine that something special was in store for us. We were in a cafe. I was supposed to meet a friend. I had been waiting for her for some time and had gone to the washroom. And what do I see when I come out? The cappuccino that I had left on my table was being finished by a man. He was standing with his back to me. I found it weird. I went to him and told him it was my coffee. He was immediately apologetic. He thought it was his since he too had been to the washroom. He offered to buy me another coffee. I told him to chill and behaved as if it wasn’t an issue. However, he was persistent. By then, my friend had arrived. I went with her to another cafe. That night around twelve, someone rang the doorbell. I opened the door and found a steaming cup of coffee on the floor and a post-it note on it that said: Sorry, I followed you. But I had to get rid of the guilt. Here’s your coffee. I swear I won’t follow you again. But you can if you want to.