A frisson ran through my body as I was chosen amongst a few more brethren to be taken home by a handsome man on new year's eve.

The chauffeur steered the car in which we travelled with our master into a posh bungalow.

'Arjun Singh -Chef.'  The nameplate glittered.

My joy knew no bounds to learn that I was in expert hands.

No sooner than we entered the house my master placed all my friends purchased today inside a drawer while only I the longest among them,  was placed on a window sill next to a pair of gloves.

Some kind of restlessness became palpable as my master kept pacing to and fro, but in a while, he swung into action.

He was probably awaiting some guests for dinner. Onions, tomatoes, and vegetables were getting chopped, while the cooker kept whistling. 

However, I wasn't considered for any of the work.

The table for two was laid aesthetically, making it evident that he was expecting only one guest.

With the professionalism of a perfect chef, my master added a special ingredient to the daal makhani * whose aroma engulfed the house.

The guest was a young lady. Her chiseled features and perfect body curves concocted a beautiful figure.

With a warm hug, the two locked themselves in a passionate kiss.

"Let us have dinner before ushering into the new year," he smiled.

Though my physique wasn't suitable for a smooth job. I wished to cut through the creamy cake that she had brought for the new year.

I patiently waited for the two to finish their dinner.

"Darling, why did you take the trouble of preparing daal makhani, I know you don't like it." She caressed his cheek.

"But you do love it," he served the cuisine liberally on her plate.

I watched in awe as the lady slumped on the sofa and fell asleep soon after dining.

A strong gloved hand gripped my handle tightly. 

My 20 inches steel body plunged into the lady's abdomen sending down a cascade of blood.

A muffled moan escaped her lips.

"Sorry, sweetheart! But I know you would have made things difficult for me. Now watch from hell as I tie the knot with Nisha. You could have never matched her spectacular opulence. Happy new year, dear," my master sniggered, patting her cheeks.

Such unconscientious men probably always had a subservient follower. Here it was the chauffeur.

Now my fate hung precariously as I  travelled along with the pretty lady's dead body and a blood-stained glove in a car different from the one we were brought in.

Were my prayers of getting freedom from the glass case in the shop wrongly interpreted by the Lord?

'God, please redeem me from this sin by punishing the sagacious man who astutely purchased many of my kind to escape from the frame of suspicion for murder.'

 Who says inanimate objects can't be heard??? Divine power can!

The car screeched as a cop in uniform stood in its way.

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