STAINED
Vikram straightened his coat, and looked about the majestic bungalows situated on either side of the road. Opulence; was the word which came to his mind. He quickly wiped the precipitation formed on his forehead with the handkerchief. Wealth and its associated comforts always made him nervous; as they were contrary to the constant hardships and pains he faced and fought against throughout his life. Vikram took out an old worn out piece of paper from his breast pocket and read; 1002-C, Gulmohar Parks . He observed the number plate of the bungalow in-front of him; 998, four more to go. His mundane life was jolted when his mother came out with the admission, your father is alive. This was contrary to the information, your father died in an accident; he had been feed since his childhood. By the time Vikram could process the information; your father is one of the richest men of the city; his mother added. The weight of information left him gasping for air as if someone had punche