Chapter 2 - The Impacted Kiss

The Kiss that would be given because of the impact of some other actions

“If you don’t believe my words,” Shalini’s father said gently, “then let us do this. After all, this is just infatuation. We’ll give it a break for some time. For the next one year, you should not meet, talk, message�"no communication of any kind. After that, if both of you still feel the same, I will personally take responsibility for getting you married. Is that acceptable? From today until one year from now, this… ends.”

Karthik and Shalini exchanged a startled glance.

THE END.

“Nice ending,” said Purushothaman, Managing Director of Butterfly Publications.

“Thank you,” I replied.

Butterfly Publications had been the only house publishing my novels for over fifteen years. Some even said their success existed because of my stories. Purushothaman was more than a publisher�"he was a loyal reader and a close friend. He never criticized my writing; he simply enjoyed it. But today, something in his expression was different. I didn’t know then that his next words were going to change my life.

“Irshad, your story is wonderful,” he began. “But tell me… what inspired this one?”

“Nothing big, Puru. I just wanted to show the power of love in an interesting way,” I said casually.

“Yes… it’s interesting. But it feels a little too cinematic, don’t you think?” he asked.

For the first time in fifteen years, I froze. His words hit me like a misplaced punctuation mark. I stared at him.

“My friend,” I said slowly, “love is magic. It’s extraordinary. You can’t explain the power of true love with everyday reality. A little fantasy, a little cinema… that’s what makes a love story feel alive.”

He smiled gently and continued.

“I agree with you. But the generation has changed, Irshad. Mindsets have evolved. These days, people don’t want cinematic stories. They want something new�"something bold. It’s time to evolve… if we want to survive in this field.”

I fell silent. He didn’t stop.

“You have one huge strength that most writers lack�"life. Your words breathe. Whatever concept you touch, you make us feel it. That is why we’ve proudly published your stories for fifteen years.”

All I could whisper was, “Thank you.”

He leaned forward. “Have you read the new stories we published?”

“No. I don’t read much,” I admitted.

“New writers are rising fast. On the third day itself, their books sold out. People are drawn to their fresh ideas. If you get time, read these two titles�"Traitors Do Not Have Rules and The World Is Very Thirsty. You’ll understand the current mindset.”

I nodded, though something tightened inside my chest. Competitors. I hated that word.
“Time to change to survive”�"the phrase echoed again and again in my mind. I refused to let anyone take the No.1 spot that belonged to me.

Purushothaman sensed my silence.

“Don’t take it personally, Irshad. We’ll definitely publish this story. But next time, we expect something extraordinary from you�"something different. No one can match the life and emotion you give your stories, but the plot and narration must evolve. If we stay the same, these young writers will surpass us. It’s business. And we want you at the top. So… surprise us next time.”

He ended with a smile, expecting a response.

All I gave him was a quiet “Bye.”

The burning mid-afternoon sun hit me as I stepped outside. Traffic screeched, horns blared, and the noise crawled under my skin like an irritation I couldn’t name. My mind was blank, except for that one sentence echoing endlessly:

“It’s time to change to survive.”

Suddenly, I thought of Gowtham.

Gowtham had been my best friend since childhood�"a psychiatrist with an MBBS and three specializations in psychology and neurology. His clinic was well-known in the city. More importantly, he was the reason I survived in this writing field.

My watch showed 2:45 PM�"his research hours. Perfect.

I drove straight to his clinic.

When I entered, the receptionist and nurses blocked me. “Doctor is busy. OP starts at 6 PM.” They didn’t care who I was.

I ignored them and walked straight in. The receptionist ran behind me, shouting.
Gowtham looked up, surprised.

“Irshad!” he said, grinning. Then he turned to the flustered receptionist. “It’s okay. He’s my friend.”

She left reluctantly.

“What a surprise! Anything special?” Gowtham asked.

“I finished my new novel and sent it to the publishers,” I said.

“Oh yes! I read the soft copy. How many times will you use the name Karthik in love stories? Can’t Gowtham, Kumar, Saravanan fall in love too?” he teased, trying to sound serious.

I laughed. “Karthik just felt romantic.”

“Your narration is great. But the story?” Gowtham shook his head. “Too cinematic. People are tired of commercial formulas. There’s nothing new. It’s sweet, but not impressive.”

I swallowed those words silently. He noticed my expression and softened.

“So… Irshad… how are the drugs working? Everything alright? Be very careful. These drugs can affect your real life,” Gowtham warned.

“I know,” I muttered.

“No, Irshad. This is serious. Do you remember what I told you when I first gave them?”

“I wasn’t listening that time,” I admitted. “But now I want to know. Explain again. It might even help with my stories,” I added with a smile.

He sighed and leaned back.

“Do you know what emotions really are?”

“No,” I said honestly. “I use them in stories, but I never thought about how they’re created.”

“Emotions are chemical reactions in your body,” Gowtham began. “When you see something you like, adrenaline and ligands are released. These bind to receptor cells, creating physical and mental responses. That’s love, hate, joy, fear�"everything.”

I nodded, fascinated.

“That’s why our face changes when we see something we hate,” he continued. “It’s temporary. Writers like you need to hold a specific emotion for days or weeks to finish a chapter. That’s where the problem begins.”

“I think I understand now,” I said slowly.

“You came to me asking for a way to maintain emotions while writing. I created drugs that artificially induce those emotions. Artificial adrenaline, artificial ligands. You’ve been using them for ten years. For your last novel, you wanted romance�"so I gave you the ‘love emotion’ drugs.”

I remembered the colored capsules in my brown box.

“Those drugs let me write with real feeling,” I whispered, amazed. “They shaped my stories.”

“Yes,” Gowtham agreed. “But you need to reduce them now. Maybe one pill a week. Emotions are short-term�"minutes. But mood is long-term�"weeks, months. These drugs are for emotions. If you misuse them, they can corrupt your mood… and your real life.”

“Emotions and mood are the same, aren’t they?” I asked.

“No,” he said firmly. “Love is an emotion. Happiness is a mood. Emotions come and go. Mood stays. If these drugs alter your mood, it can destroy your life. Be careful.”

I looked at him, my voice low.

“But this time… I desperately need your help.”

Gowtham frowned. “Irshad… what happened? I’ve never seen you so shaken.”

“It’s time for me to change,” I said. “For the first time, I have competitors. I will not lose my No. 1 position. This is my kingdom.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“I want to write something totally new. A story no one has ever imagined. I need strong drugs for that.”

Gowtham froze.
“Absolutely not. I can’t help you. This is getting dangerous.”

“Please, Gowtham… this is the last time. After this, I’ll wait for natural mood. But now… my career is at stake. New writers are stealing my throne. I need to prove myself. Please… this time I have a different theme. Without your help, I can’t do it.”

I had never begged anyone in my life. But that day, I sounded like a helpless man.

Gowtham thought for a long moment.

“Fine,” he said quietly. “But this is the last time. I’ll give you only three pills a week, matched to the mood of your chapters. Understood?”

“Thank you,” I breathed, shaking his hand.

“So… what’s next?” Gowtham asked.

“Alisha,” I replied softly.

He looked surprised, but I didn’t explain. I left the clinic.

My wife Alisha, thirty-five, worked as a software analyst in a large IT company. She was the most patient woman I knew�"living mostly alone because I was always buried in my writing. She never complained. We didn’t have children, but we lived peacefully… separately.
It had been twenty days since I last saw her.

I drove to her tech park.

The place was massive. I barely remembered the name of her company. At reception, the North Indian girl asked several questions�"but all I knew was Alisha’s name. Nothing else.

She asked me to wait while she searched.

I sat on the couch, picked up a magazine, and pretended to read. The access-controlled ODC gate nearby had a sign:
“Please do not tailgate.”

After five minutes, the receptionist was still typing. Normally, writers have patience. But something inside me felt strange�"restless. Uncontrollable.

A man exited the ODC by swiping his card.

Impulse overtook reason.

The moment the door was half-open, I stood abruptly and rushed inside. The receptionist shouted my name and chased after me.

The ODC was huge�"250 seats. People stared in shock as I walked through, searching frantically.

“Irshad?”

My eyes snapped toward the voice.

Alisha stood there. More beautiful than I remembered. At thirty-five, she still looked twenty-five. She seemed stunned to see me.

I hurried toward her. She looked at me, breathless, her balance wavering. Before she could fall, I caught her by the waist, holding her tight.

Eyes widened around us. Alisha tried to say something�"but I silenced her with a sudden kiss.

A long, desperate, uncontrollable kiss. Two minutes.
Two minutes of emotion that did not belong to reality.

I didn’t realize the drug I had taken earlier was still active�"the one designed to ignite love for my novel You+Me=Love. The line between story and reality had blurred. The overdose was creeping into my life.

And in that moment, the drug escaped my control�"
and emerged as that unintended, overwhelming kiss.

Reviews

[Mahabobali]

Second episode is very interesting and exiting and fast moving like Sci fiction.The story is full of suspense. As usual the style of story is adorable. Waiting for next episode.