By Nipun Bamania

The Indian woman who drinks, and that too hard drinks is seen with both see as well as disgust in the country. She never cared a damn about any of the two types of people mentioned in the previous line. She was just happy to be herself, just Shanaya Malhotra. A strong headed woman, who never tolerated any nonsense, and carried her mind on her tongue. She was the chief editor of a woman's magazine, and had a totally woman staff under her. It was not that she hated men, but men kept themselves a touch away from this fiery woman.

She stayed in a sea view apartment, and a huge one it was. She had inherited it from her dad, who was a diamond merchant, and she being the only daughter had put a hand on this property, and got it without a question asked. She was in her early thirties, a stunner who could give the best of models a run for their money. Tall, slim, milky, with the right curves at the right places would be apt to describe her anatomy. Her expressive eyes spoke a lot, and her looks were literally capable of killing.

Her apartment had a bar, that held the most exclusive liquor collection that could give liquor barons a run for their money. She was fond of collecting ageless liquor from all over the world. She was fond of drinking too, not just collecting. She held parties at her pad occasionally, and was a great hostess. Her parties were always a centre of attraction in the media world. Her parents had asked her to marry and settle down but a failed relationship had made her immune to their demands.

The only flesh and blood that kept her company was her cat, that her father had gifted on her 30th birthday. Her parents lived a few blocks away, as she wanted to live an independent life, and they supported her decision. They used to come up to her apartment once in a while to catch up with her life. That day she would cancel all her appointments and be with them totally unwound. They would talk endlessly for hours and have a meal together. Her father was a teetotaler so her bar would remain shut that day.

One fine summer evening, she sat in her bar, drinking alone when she was transported to a summer weekend that was dated a decade ago. The destination was Goa, and her company was a handsome young man, Siddharth, who was her fiancé, the son of a diamond merchant from her dad's circle. A match that got to this stage on the basis of knowing each other for years and the families also knowing each other to the core. The occasion of being in Goa at that time was a destination wedding of Shanaya's college bestie.

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Suddenly at the touch of her cat she realised that while drifting off to sleep, she had drifted back a decade, and the entire event had replayed itself in her dream. She still felt nauseous at the thought of Siddharth, because after that day she had cut herself off from associating herself with the opposite sex on a personal level. She did not hate men, but she failed to emotionally connect herself to any male.

The cat looked at her in anticipation of her daily dose of milk, so she got up, went to the fridge, removed milk, filled the cat's saucer and fed her milk. Seeing the cat lapping up the milk gave her a sense of satisfaction and she knew that the cat would never betray her in her entire lifetime. She had moved on from that day and she had not got a new tooth inducted to always remind her of the betrayal. She was TOOTHLESS, SPOUSELESS, but not SPINELESS.