Chapter 4
[MEMBERSONLY]
[NOCOPY]
Hi my Very Dear Friends 
Below is Chapter 5, the last installment in this 5S. I'm feeling rather emotional at the moment; this story had become a crucial part of my daily thoughts, for almost the past 3 weeks or so.
The story arc ends here, I do plan a small epilogue of sorts, but I am not too sure when I would be able to post it. I have several pressing commitments coming up in a row, from tomorrow evening right upto 15th July. I will try my very best to post the epilogue, some time in between those dates.
In the meantime, do read this last chapter and let me know what you felt. It would be an immense pleasure and privilege to have your feedback---your comments mean a lot to me; and have given me tremendous motivation through this 5S.
Loads of Love,
----Viji
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
mrityorma amritam gamaya
Om shanti shanti shanti h
From death, lead me to immortality;
Om (May there be) Peace, Peace, Peace.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
For a couple very intensely, deeply and irrevocably in love, there is one thing which has remained fairly constant through history, and remarkably similar across several cultures. The very first kiss that they shared with each other. That first meeting and melding of their lips, the lingering, tender caresses that were conveyed through the kiss, the feathery light, tentative initial touches giving way to a vigorous, passionate exploration. This would be the cherished memory, which would be metaphorically wrapped in fine silk and stored in perfumed sandalwood, to be treasured and examined anew, each time the couple would want to recall the bliss of their love. They would always remember the sublime, incandescent beauty, of how they had felt in each others arms for the first time. Purity. Perfection. Eternity. Immortality.
Sanskaar's lips were still tingling with warmth, a look of utter joy and contentment on his ruggedly handsome countenance, as he strode into their room from the terraced garden beneath the balcony. He could not recall ever experiencing such rapture, such bliss as he had just now. Magical moments, frozen in time, which made him feel both more intensely alive, and more serenely at peace, than he could ever remember. She loved him. And He loved her. There was not a shred of doubt left in his mind now. If he was honest with himself, there hadn't been any credible doubts for quite some time, either. And while he guessed that this certainly was not their first kiss, to him, it was. For the time being, at least. And he reveled in it, lips curling upwards in a mischievous grin, as he contemplated on soon adding to his store of memories in this particular department.
He turned to shoot a look at Swara outside on the balcony. His heart leaped with tenderness and a burst of passion, as he saw her gazing dreamily at the flowers around her, her fingers gently feeling her kiss- swollen lips. How he wanted to rush back out to her, to fold her into his arms once again, and shower her with kisses, each one more intense than the previous one. But he needed to return Nakul's call. Sanskaar's phone had fallen silent now, after the repeated, continual ringing of the previous minutes, and his worry and concern for Nakul sparked up again.
Sanskaar sat on the couch, and called Nakul back; smiling at the thought of speaking to his buddy, man friday, and comrade at arms once again. And that would be the past pleasant, carefree thought, which would cross his mind for hours afterwards.
The minute Sanskaar's call went through, almost before the first ring had sounded, Nakul had picked up the call. Upon hearing his boss's familiar voice over the phone, he had unashamedly broken into sobs. It is not everyone, after all, who has had to experience the mortal agony of being an orphan, twice over.
When Nakul had been old enough to realize that he had been abandoned by his birth parents; he had clung determinedly to his sense of self, and fought off his deep seated insecurities of being unwanted, with his burning resolve to succeed in life. But he had been unable to be stoic, when Sanskaar had been reported to be possibly dead. At one stroke, Nakul had lost the only person, who had ever been family to him. An elder brother, an idol, a quasi paternal figure, who had taken the place of the parents he had never had and never would. Nakul had been absolutely shattered, unable to deal with the agony that tore into him like white hot knives. He attempted, unsuccessfully, to win a temporary reprieve from this pain through the soothing fumes of drink and dissipation. But a residual instinct of self preservation, and the steely will which he had learned from Sanskaar himself, stayed his hand after a few weeks.
Nakul was no longer based in India at all. Sanskaar, after securing his release from incarceration, and using his clout with the police to have the FIR against Nakul quietly put on the backburner, had speedily sent him to Abu Dhabi. Sanskaar had wanted Nakul to lie low, away from the line of fire, as it were, back in India. And while there, Nakul would oversee the projects which Karma & Co. had taken up in the UAE; as well as those handled by Sanskaar's other (SPV) company-- SK Engineering.
It was in his role as custodian and local manager of these projects which Nakul now buried himself in. Firing himself up with the vague hope that after all, his hero, his idol had not been conclusively reported deceased as yet. Through his channels back in India, he had come to hear that Swara Sanskaar Maheshwari had not allowed the case to be closed, refusing to accept the official explanation of her husband's probable demise. Like Swara's indomitable will and conviction had done with the Maheshwaris, it had imbued Nakul too, with hope. Hope that Sanskaar might still be alive, hope to dispel the fog of despair which otherwise seemed ready to smother him.
His voice still choked, Nakul stammered his utter relief and joy at hearing Sanskaar's voice again, at his safe return.
He explained that this being his India number, he seldom ever switched
it on. Nakul's UAE number was the one Sanskaar used to call him on earlier, which, of course, Sanskaar did not recollect now. Sanskaar smiled a bit, his eyes moist at the fervent brotherly affection and hero worship evident in the younger man's voice.
Once Nakul's voluble explanations and eager inquiries had calmed down somewhat, Sanskaar proceeded to quietly explain his predicament. That he remembered hardly anything which had happened since April of the previous year; and that he wanted Nakul to feed him the details, help him put together the picture of what had happened after that.
And that was the last thing Sanskaar spoke for quite some time, as Nakul, his voice trembling a bit, briefed his boss on everything he knew. On the stratagems Sanskaar had followed, the machinations he had put in place. The MMS episode, which Nakul had got embroiled in. And the information Sanskaar had subsequently shared with him, while Nakul was already safely ensconced in Abu Dhabi. On how Sanskaar and Ragini had plied an unsuspecting Swara with a narcotic substance, leading to her increasingly being viewed with doubt by the Maheshwaris and Lakshya himself. And the entire chain of events which had followed, including Sanskaar's tremendous remorse and quest to redeem himself.
Nakul voice was tinged with tremendous respect when he spoke of his Bhabhiji. Anyone whom his idol loved with such devotion, and who adored him back with such fervent intensity, would be prominently placed on Nakul's pantheon. On a rung only slightly below the one belonging to his hero himself. Sanskaar learned whatever details Nakul had earlier been privy to, about the immense difficulties he and Swara had encountered on
their path together. To whatever extent he could, Nakul brought his
boss up to speed with the facts relating his family as well---how Sanskaar had reconciled with his Bade Papa and his cousin, too, eventually; how the merger between the firms had had his willing acquiescence.
Sanskaar silently sat and heard the words, his mind accepting each
tortuous fact, each damaging detail and each tormenting revelation. He learned anew, how he had allowed his
blind rage, his sickening bitterness, to overwhelm all the goodness within him. How he had managed to rip apart Swara's peace of mind, and set in motion a series of events which had caused her character to be maligned, and her renewed estrangement from her father and the paternal side of her family, however briefly.
After a considerable time, Sanskaar numbly told Nakul he would call him back later, after a day or two. After he had hung up, Sanskaar sat silently, his chiseled face looking like it had been carved out of stone, his expression completely frozen. Disgust and self loathing almost overpowered him. He had failed.
Sanskaar felt a tremendous, overpowering stab of guilt now, as he reflected on his brief doubts about Swara when he had returned home few weeks ago. How could he have felt that about her? The purest soul he had ever met, who possessed empathy, warmth and an innocent exuberance beyond measure.
He knew, from what Nakul told him, that Swara had pulled him out of the bitterness, vengeance and hate which he had allowed to almost consume him. And yet, he had fallen back into the same frame of mind after his accident; plotting against his family, and being for a time, even unsure of this ethereal girl who had redeemed him completely. Never, perhaps, had Sanskaar felt smaller than he did at that moment.A long time had evidently passed, the bathed-in-red glow of the sunset fading as the fiery orb slowly sank out of sight beneath the horizon. Bright streaks of red, pink, and orange slowly gave way to the deep violet and indigo of the twilight sky. And still Sanskaar sat immobile, staring, unseeing, at the wall in front of him.
He was roused, ultimately, by a very gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Swara peering at him enquiringly, quite puzzled as to why he had not come back after his call. She drew in a sharp breath, shocked at the sight of the naked agony in his eyes. "What happened, Sanskaar?", she demanded, her voice urgent, deeply pained at the hurt she saw pooled in her husband's eyes. But Sanskaar, now looking expressionless and remote, averted his eyes from hers. He could not bear to gaze at her, see that adoration in her eyes for him----not after realizing anew, what he had done to her. He got up, and jerkily walked to the other end of the room. Swara, not be outdone, quickly followed him. She could see that her husband was emotionally retreating from her. And she thought she had a fair idea of why that was. Whatever happened, she would get through the walls, the barriers of guilt and self loathing which had gone up within her husband's formidable mind.
"It was that phone call, wasn't it, Sanskaar? Who was it? What did that person speak to you about?" demanded Swara, standing very close indeed to Sanskaar, her eyes fixed upon his, trying to look deep into his very soul. She had always been able to read his eyes, after all...
"It doesn't matter who it was, Swara!" he replied, finally, in a voice hoarse and jerky with emotion. "Do you know what I've done, after I came back? You won't feel the way you do now about me anymore, when you realize what I've been thinking, what I've been planning!"
Sanskaar just had to get it off his chest. He simply couldn't endure this duplicity, of having Swara look at him like that, with such adoration in her eyes, when he had done nothing to deserve it since he'd been back. He couldn't bear having her love and admire him under false pretenses. Sanskaar unconsciously rubbed his chest, his heart troubling him as it pounded erratically, as if trying to stop him from going through with this decision. It knew already, that it simply could not bear the possibility of losing Swara's love. And so it protested his decision by hurting him with its frantic pounding, that literally bruised his ribs with its intensity and force. It sent a surge of panic through his blood, as it tried vainly to thud a warning. Sanskaar felt a physical pain, almost if his heart was trying to break free of his chest altogether, to rush to the safe embrace of the one who had taken up permanent, irrevocable residence within it.
But Sanskaar was nothing if not resolute. He had decided to come clean, and from this course of action he would not waver, no matter what the consequences to himself. He turned a bit away from Swara, to avoid her eyes. He could not bear the thought of seeing that blazing love there fading, being replaced by loathing and disgust. "I didn't completely trust your love for me when I came back, Swara", he said, tersely, his voice agonized. His words rushing out like a torrent almost, eager to get this ordeal over with. " I couldn't hold on to those doubts for much time after I met you----but I wasn't sure what to think, initially. And I've been scheming against Bade papa and Lucky...for the same reason that I did earlier. Whatever Ragini said, about me convincing her to confess her fake pregnancy to you----that isn't true, Swara. She had suspected what I was upto, and was trying to shield the family from my plans. I discovered the truth about your mother's pregnancy...and I was using it to blackmail Ragini into staying out of my way..."
His voice shuddered to a halt, overcome with his intense remorse. There was absolute silence for a while, and Sanskaar's heart chilled with dread within him. This was it, wasn't it? The final straw----when Swara would feel nothing but aversion for him. But when he half turned to glance at her, he saw her looking composed and grave. There wasn't any judgement or rejection whatsoever in her eyes, just a patient understanding. And a profound acceptance, mingled with that deep adoration for him which was always there.
"Do you understand what I'm telling you, Swara?", he asked, agonized. "I won't blame you if your feelings towards me change----there is just so much darkness in my life. It keeps coming back, like it has now, staining and marring the happiness you deserve. I am probably too scarred for someone like you, too complex. You simply don't deserve this pain..."
Swara looked deep into the eyes of her husband----the man whose love for her was so potent, so deep, so unconditional and so selfless, it made her tremble and melt, no matter what he did. This incredible, complex man, who would cleave himself in two without a moment's hesitation, if he thought that was what she needed. And who had loved her, cherished her, without consciously realizing it, even when he had no memories of ever having loved her.
"If you don't think I deserve pain, Sanskaar...you should not allow yourself to feel pain, either", she said quietly, but with the firmness of a deep conviction. "Seeing you hurt, hurts me more than anything else could----you knew that before, and you will recollect that soon enough, I am sure. We have both hurt each other in the past, and deeply regretted it----but we have come through that, secure and happy in our love for each other. But if you detach yourself from me, retreat emotionally or physically from me----I can't survive that. We are married, Sanskaar. Issues will come by, major ones or petty ones---we will deal with them together, as husband and wife. Why should you allow yourself to feel guilty now, for something you did not do?"
Sanskaar was lost, completely lost in the enthralling lilt of her trusting voice, this chant of her absolute faith and love for him. But his eyes still reflected his keen distress over his thoughts and conduct of recent weeks. This was something Swara simply could not, and would not tolerate. This process of silently bearing all his pain within himself, of opening himself to anguish and torturing his soul----this was something she simply would not permit him to do.
She moved ever closer to him, almost hypnotizing him with the strength of her glowing gaze. She lovingly traced his jaw with her slender fingers, feeling the familiar crispness of his stubble under her soft palms. Without breaking their eye contact, she almost whispered, "Sanskaar...I knew, when you came back, that you had certain reservations about us. I could see it in your eyes. The doctor had told us as well, right? On that first day----he cautioned us that you remembered nothing of what had happened for more than a year past. I knew that you did not remember me at all, have any memory of us being married. But though I could see that occasional doubt in your eyes, I just knew that our love would win through. It always has. And with each day that you were back, my faith and belief came true----because you were responding to me. Whether you recognized it consciously or not, you did recollect me in some way. The moments that we shared. Don't you realize that?"
Sanskaar merely shrugged wryly. That, he could not deny. He had felt that inexplicable, inexorable connection to Swara from the day he reached home, and the feeling had only grown stronger with each passing day. He did not know yet whether he remembered anything of their love from the year past, but he certainly loved her now. But that still did not excuse his plotting...
And just as they always could with each other before, Swara had read the unspoken thought that flashed through his mind. She smiled softly, almost tempted to hit her husband for such determined self-flagellation, for so relentlessly and honorably trying his best to find fault with himself. And maybe she would give him a hard tap on his arm later, she thought, not that her fists could really cause him much harm. "You could never have done anything that would harm my Ma or my Baba, Sanskaar...nor the baby they are expecting. Threatening to do something and actually doing it are different, are they not? That is what you told me once, long back, when we were planning something together. You will remember that soon enough, I'm sure. You say you blackmailed Ragini to ensure she did not reveal or interfere with your plans----but I am sure, had she refused to succumb to that tactic, you would not have actually exposed her and Lakshya. I'm right, aren't I?"
Sanskaar did not trust himself to speak. He had so wanted to tell Swara that, explain to her that indeed, he would not have gone through with exposing the truth if it had come down to that. He hadn't been sure she would believe him, the explanation had sounded hollow to him, in the light of all that he'd done. An intense, comforting warmth and a powerful sense of reassurance now coursed through him, as he realized Swara had understood this after all, even without him explaining a thing.
Swara was now standing right up against him, looking up at her husband with a renewed teasing gleam in her eyes, though she was again flushing that most enticing shade of cameo pink. "Now that is hopefully all sorted...weren't we in the middle of something when that call came? You did say you were returning didn't you? And I'd said I was waiting...I still am, Mr Maheshwari. And as the wife of one of the country's leading businessmen, I intend to collect my due!"
And that was the cue for the erstwhile infamous Sanskaar Maheshwari, to lose all his famous self control. His mouth came crushing down on hers again, all those minutes and days and weeks of desperate longing and confused yearning, culminating into this searingly passionate kiss. The warm, musky scent of his skin, seemed to invade her senses ---- to fill her entire being with an intense longing. She wanted his warmth, his comfort, his immense love and need for her, on this night perhaps more than any other, to erase the painful memories each of them had of the recent weeks. She found she was kissing him back with the same vibrant, consuming urgency, her lips parting eagerly to accept the thrust of his tongue.
As
Sanskaar felt the soft, silky fingers of her right hand grazing the
side of his neck, while her other hand slowly entwined through the crisp
hairs of his nape, he jerked her even closer to him, holding ever in an
ever tighter though still gentle embrace, as he started kissing her even
more vigorously. His tongue entwined with hers in a sensuous, sinuous
dance; teasing, savoring, caressing, cajoling. It was almost as if he
was pouring a part of his very soul into her, and absorbing a part of hers, in return.
Almost
without either of their conscious volition, they found themselves on
their bed, languorously entwined together as he undressed her with
painstaking tenderness. Sanskaar's face was flushed, his molten chocolate eyes mesmerizingly intense as he came down beside her, pressing her into the soft mattress with the weight of his ardent body.
His heart constricted at the sight of her long, dark tresses splayed on
the pillows, her face flushed with pleasure, her entire body quivering
with excitement. She was exquisitely beautiful.
Unable
to bear the sheer intensity of his perusal, she made a move to cover
herself. He held her hands in his and kissed her on her
lips, capturing their plump, soft fullness within his own silky ones. Feathery, light kisses that comforted and inflamed her, at the same
time.
"Touch me, Swara", he whispered hoarsely, "I need to feel your hands on me." Her hands shook as she reached for him, hands framing his face, feeling the bristly roughness of his jawline, then moved to his broad shoulders, down his biceps, over the sinews of his corded forearms, then back up the same way to rake her fingers down the strong muscles of his back. Pinned against his body, she was aware of every muscle and sinew in his taut, virile frame.
Neither of them would ever forget the magic of that night. Sanskaar had worshiped her body with languorous, gentle caresses,
his fingers by turn teasing, demanding, giving. His lips had tantalized and enraptured her, nuzzling her with kisses and light nips. Swara draped her arms around his warm, muscular back, her fingers walking up from his waist---stroking, savoring and gently teasing. It was almost as if she was writing her very own love letter on him, making the words a part of who he was. He was the living embodiment of all her fervent declarations of love, her fingers the magic quill.
They made love abandonedly, a furious yet tender love finding expression in murmurs, touches, endearments, turns and holds. They came together with the ease of familiarity, moving to a rhythm growing steadily faster and fiercer until all sense of time and place vanished. When she arched below him, he felt a supremely burgeoning gentleness and joy. And when he lay by her side delightedly spent, spooned together on the right side of the bed, Swara noted with a wide, happy smile, she turned and kissed his cheek even as he buried his face in her silky hair. They lay silent and content for a long time, tangled together, soaking in the peaceful joy which follows love making.
People say that nothing on this good Earth is truly forever, nothing is truly immortal. But at this moment, Sanskaar and Swara knew without a doubt, that this was not really true...
When Sanskaar woke up the next morning, he found himself snuggled up on Swara's side of the bed as always, but she had already woken up and left downstairs, it appeared. She had carefully draped the comforter over him so he wouldn't feel cold, and had tucked a pillow into his grasp so he would let her rise from his possessive embrace. Sanskaar smiled to himself. This tactic would not work again, Mrs Maheshwari...he thought. He was going to insist that his wife delay her waking up to synchronize with him, every morning. There were a lot of supremely delicious things he had planned, about the best way of waking up...
But today, since he was already up, he decided, half amused, half morose, to go for his daily jog. When he came downstairs a little later, in his jogging tracks and singlet, Swara rushed out of the kitchen to press a large tumbler into his hand. It was his favorite protein shake. Sanskaar took it from her, his fingers brushing hers warmly, sending a warm tingle coursing through both of them. And quick as a panther, he slid his other arm round her waist and brought her flush against him, even as he deposited the glass carefully on a side table. "There are other, far more delicious things on my mind at the moment, Mrs Maheshwari", he murmured huskily, making Swara flush as he leaned over to nuzzle her earlobe and neck. She seemed to relax, pliant and eager in his embrace, and at the last minute, pushed back against the planes of his muscular chest, her mirthful giggle ringing like the tinkle of tiny bells. "This is the front hall, Sanskaar", she laughed, even as she dodged around him and raced to the dining area; and stood playfully facing him across the table. Sanskaar smirked. "I think you're forgetting we share a room, Swara. You're going to pay for this, later today." His molten chocolate eyes were hypnotic with meaning, and Swara blushed and laughed once again, as she went back into the kitchen.
Sanskaar turned, a contented, boyish smile on his face, and picked up the protein shake Swara had prepared for him. As he drank deeply and methodically, his Adam's Apple bobbing in the firm columns of his neck, he sensed someone's eyes on him. Looking up, he saw Ragini gazing down from the landing above, apparently having witnessed the moment he and Swara had shared. There was a look of such joy, such enormous bliss on her radiant face; that she seemed to light up the entire hall by herself. That bold step she had taken yesterday, risking all with that wily move on the chessboard, had paid off, after all. She had relied on her judgement and understanding of the person Sanskaar was, on the inherent sincerity and integrity within him, and on his potent adoration for Swara. She could breathe more easily now, that the signs were so evident of the real Sanskaar coming back again.
Lakshya
came up behind her, clad in his plaid pajamas, sleepily pushing his
hair off his forehead, rubbing his eyes, and asking that his wife make
him a cup of strong coffee. Sanskaar glanced up at him, deep affection and
remorse in his eyes. And then his gaze shifted back to Ragini, who was
still looking at him, trying to gauge what was going through his mind. Had his misunderstanding, his animosity against Lakshya faded as well? She so devoutly hoped it had. Sanskaar raised the glass he was holding to Ragini, a gesture which was half salute, half cheers. Well Done, he seemed to be saying. Bravely Done.
And with a cheerful, brotherly exchange of "Good Mornings" with Lakshya, and a last smile at Ragini, Sanskaar went out for his morning jog. With tremendous peace in his heart and soul. His wife had redeemed him completely, once again...
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
2) The serial only mentions Sanskaar as having founded Karma & Co. But in this Fic, I have assumed that he started a few other shell companies and an SPV (Special Purpose Vehicle)---SK Engineering, as well. I felt Sanskaar would definitely have made backup plans/ corporate vehicles in those years when he was plotting against the Maheshwaris. Both to give him additional weapons to bring down Maheshwari & Sons; as well as for tax planning purposes, perhaps. He certainly has the wiles and the guile, apart from the sheer imaginative brilliance, to do so.
Your reaction
Nice
Awesome
Loved
LOL
OMG
Cry
Comments (0)