how a lover became a slave--part 1

Hello mistress and stupid slaves, after along time i am back on my blog, I am here with super fresh story of areal slave whose name is Ashu,he is 45 years old and lives in Toronto but basically  from Delhi.He mailed me his very own real and true story.This is a series of stories from his diary,,as i will get more..i will be publishing it...SO READ AND ENJOY HIS STORY AND DO COMMENTS ON IT.....

Part 1

This is the story of a young ambitious man who wanted to take a short cut to grow rich and lead the life of the rich and famous as shown on TV and the situation that he found himself in at the end of it all.

This is my story.

I am writing to share my life with all the men out there who are in the same situation and are trapped and doomed for ever. This is not a call for a support group and no such thing can ever exist for people in my situation, nor is it possible for anyone to help me in any way possible.

My name is Chandra Das (CD) and I come from a lower income family. My father works in a clerical role in a small private company, mom is a house wife. I have a younger sister who eloped to marry her boyfriend and is now in a troubled marriage that just broke up; we all live in our two room rented apartment where there is no privacy and only the very basic amenities.

I was always fascinated by the Western lifestyle portrayed in Hollywood movies and American thrillers and followed them very carefully … this helped improve my English pronunciation and I carefully cultivated an accent to appear better schooled that I really was. This helped me break into an elite social circle at college and interact with people that had a privileged upbringing that was far beyond my parents wildest dreams and was readily accepted as one of them after a simple lie about my schooling in Africa and stories of my parents’ un-measurable riches.

While in college I made a plan to get out of this circle of poverty by taking the short cut of marrying a rich girl by first making her fall in love with me (very B grade plot, but worth a try). I carefully looked at all girls that I met in my circle of friends with this intent and short listed a few that were potential candidates.

Being blessed with good looks (most unlike my Dad, which caused me to look at my Mom with some suspicion, but why complain) and my cultivated accent, I was able to get close to a girl from a very wealth family from a small town. This girl lived in the hostel and had led a very elitist lifestyle with vacations abroad and cars and servants and all the trapping of a rich lifestyle. She was very average looking and thus not very popular with the guys who all chased the college hotties and generally ignored. Her name is Durga and I decided that she would be my wife and my ticket to wealth and riches and the life I always dreamt of. Of course, I lied to her about my real economic situation and gave her the same story of my parents in Africa and spun a story about being the rebel son who had been sent to India to study rather than US, as a punishment for past misdeeds. This increased my image of a spirited man who could get any girl but had chosen to love her and this made her feel very special.

When we were in the last year of our graduation, I proposed marriage to Durga; she asked about my family’s reaction at my marriage plans and I told her that I was being disowned by them because of this decision. She wanted some time to think about this and convey her decision. She was silent and withdrawn for the next little while, which I ascribed to the decision for her future life partner. Over the next few days, I noticed a slow change in her behaviour to me … she was more assertive and looked at me very differently … I presumed this was because she getting closer to her decision and didn’t read anything into this.

In the last month of college, she confirmed her intention to marry me asked me to meet with her parents who were visiting Mumbai (where we live) from their town in the rural part of the state. This was a huge event for me and I prepared for this very carefully, even rehearsing answers to a few anticipated questions. Durga and I spoke at length about our life together and made plans for our future life together. She smiled a lot when I told her my prepared lies about my life in Africa and I presumed that she was accepting it all at face value.

When her parents arrived, I dressed in clothes borrowed from a close friend whose family owned a dry cleaning store; he had no idea what I was planning as I couldn’t take any chances of this story spilling out. Durga’s parents were very nice people and were totally taken in by my story; my public school accent fooled them totally and they accepted me as family. When they asked to meet my family, I said that they are not ready to accept me back as yet and in any case they will not accept a girl of my choice. On the economic front, I gave a story of wanting to be my own man and wanting to build my own fortune. Anyway, to cut a long story short, Durga’s family agreed to accept this marriage and to support me initially. Durga was really delighted and shared our plans of settling in Mumbai itself and looking after the family business (a hotel and rental properties) from there itself rather than moving back to her small town roots.

The marriage date was set and I insisted on a small ceremony in Mumbai to avoid being noticed by my family. We had a major reception in their home town where I was stunned to see the extent of the family wealth and properties. Durga asked for the marriage consummation to be deferred till our honeymoon in Singapore (a gift from my loving in-laws) and I of course gave in to this request. After all the purpose of this marriage was not sex, but to gain financial independence, which I felt I had now achieved.

When we arrived in Singapore and settled into our room, Durga looked at me and said “CD, there is something I want to discuss with you … now be totally honest with me and don’t lie”.

I said “Of course honey … I have always been open and truthful with you … go ahead and ask me anything.”

Durga: “this is your only chance to tell me the truth, so chose your answers wisely”

“Sure, honey, go ahead”

“Tell me the truth about your family”

I was taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered and said “but you know it all … I have kept no secrets from you …” and I proceeded to repeat the story I had told her and the world.

“Well, if that is what you want … I gave you a fair chance and you chose to lose it … here read this file” she handed me a file folder with typed sheets and photographs. I opened it and was stunned to see my real home address, family details, parents names and pictures of my family, house exterior and interior.

I went white and looked at her “What is this Durga … where did you get this … this is all wrong … this is a lie”

 “Did you think I would be so stupid to accept you at face value? I know all about you, your family and the lies you told me … I chose to play along as this marriage will serve a few purposes in my life plans. If you had told me the truth earlier instead of repeating your lies, I would have reacted differently, but now your life will take a different turn.” Saying this, she handed me a piece of paper and said “these are your instructions … memorize them and never ever disobey them … you have no idea what I am capable of, so don’t try to be smart with me as my sandles are even smarter than you.. Now I am going to the bar and later the night club here … you stay here and prepare as per these instructions.”

She left the room, giving me a smile and wink and blew me a kiss. I glanced at the list and my blood ran cold and I started trembling with fear thinking “what is this happening to me … “

 TO BE CONTINUED....