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Chapter 2:
I was five when I first heard my mother raising her voice at the man I called my father.
It was a lazy summer afternoon. Shivaay was off to his summer camp for the next two months which meant that I was left to my own devices. It wasn't that I was particularly fond of Shivaay. On thinking back, I feel that I harboured a certain dislike for him then. He was older and sturdier and he hit me more often than I would like to remember. Moreover, most of the scolding I ever received was less because of my faults and more because of his. Mum was hardly ever around which left both of us to the mercy of the maids and the caretakers and not to mention, Pinky Chachi. The fact that she was blind to her own son's glaringly obvious mistakes didn't help the matters. So no, as a child, I didn't like Shivaay much. The only reason I tolerated his presence was because he was the sole playing companion I had.
I had spent the morning roaming the halls and counting the number of stairs in the house. I tried to read myself the bedtime stories but soon got bored and kept them back on their designated shelves. I didn't like painting much so colouring books weren't really an option. The same applied to the hundreds of toys kept in the huge cardboard boxes. Playing them alone was no fun. It was only when I walked into the garden area that I found myself interesting to do.
A huge mound of wet mud was left piled on the tabletop by the potted plants. Seeing nothing better to do, I decided to make myself a miniature model of our family; Mum, Dad and me. It seemed easy anyway. All one had to do was make a heap, give it a structure, carve in a few features and Voila! You were done! It didn't seem that easy once I started though. The structures refused to stand straight and toppled at the lightest touch of finger. Carving features proved to even more difficult. Most of the times, I ended up with headless caricatures. But I was determined. Four hours and many attempts later, I had my desired results. It was nothing close to what would please me now but to the five year old me, it was a masterpiece.
All excited, I ran upstairs to show it to Dad. I was about five feet away from the door when I heard Mum, her voice a notch higher than usual. She wasn't supposed to be home today and yet, I could hear her clearly. I heard fragments of words I didn't even understand; Broken relationship,' Nothing to it,' Consider it dead,' Only because of Om.' Only because of me; what had I exactly done? Scared, I stepped into their line of sight. I can still recall the look of horror on their faces. Mum shoved me out of the room and asked me to drop in later. I wanted to tell them about my family' that waited downstairs but before I could utter a word, the door closed in on me. By the time I reached back, the mud sculptures had dried up and crumbled to pieces.
The fights escalated over the summer. I remember the hush-hush atmosphere around. Everyone would stop talking the moment they spotted me. There were accusations hurled across the dinner table. People were choosing their sides. Nobody knew the reason. All anyone knew was that there were problems in the marriage and it might soon fall apart. I, however, understood nothing. All of a sudden, I had become lonelier than usual. Everyone seemed to be avoiding me. I tried asking Daadi but all she did was hug me tightly and start sobbing. As days passed by, loneliness became a refuge and so did my love for sculpting. Years later, I would remember it as the summer that changed my life. It was also the last summer I ever spent at home.
Soon, Shivaay was back and the irregularity became a norm. Life continued as usual. One year later, Rudra was born. Things only turned worse from there. I will never understand why they decided to bring a new child into their loveless marriage but twenty one years later, I am really glad they did for the little bundle of joy grew up to become a source of unadulterated source of happiness.
Knowing that your family is falling apart is difficult. Having your father call you his life's worst mistake is heart-wrenching. That night, I remember praying for a guardian angel. I knew my prayers were granted when a pair of equally small hands wrapped themselves tightly around me. I opened my eyes to thank her for answering my prayers only to realise how wrong had I been. It wasn't a her, it was a him. Shivaay was only two years older to me; one year, seven months and twenty nine days to be precise. Yet, he somehow had seemed much older that day. For hours, we had remained like that, none of us uttering a word. When the earliest rays of the morning sun dawned on us, I knew I had found myself an angel who was going to protect me for years to come.
The weather was crisp and clear, just as Shivaay had promised. Rudra was nowhere in sight though. Shivaay took himself to work the moment the helps were done with the setting up of the grill. I will never understand his fascination for cooking. He calls it the only art he is adept at; rest is all business.
"I wonder where Rudra is."
"You know him. It's perfectly normal for him to have come across his latest source of distraction," Shivaay supplied.
"Yeah, I hope his source of distraction doesn't cause him to forget his way up the stairs where two humble people are waiting in his service. Anyway, what's up between you and Tia?"
I saw Shivaay take a momentary pause and then continue as nothing was amiss.
"As you heard, we are due to be engaged. We'll make the official announcement tomorrow."
"Are you sure? It's not a momentary decision to make."
"I have given it much thought. As you know, I do not believe in love and so there is no point in waiting for it to happen. Tia is a beautiful and an intelligent woman. She shares the same passion for business as I do. To top it all, she's a Raheja. They are one of the most prestigious families in the country. I do not see any harm in agreeing to marry her."
"You don't even know her properly to begin with," I argued.
"I know the things I need to."
"Is that going to enough? You are going to spend a lifetime with her. It's not about how beautiful or intelligent one is or how prestigious a lineage one belongs to. If she doesn't share your ideals and your goals, if she doesn't like you without your fancy title and credit cards, if she doesn't challenge your beliefs and your falsities, she is not the one for you. Do you know her well enough to answer these?"
Shivaay had only started to answer when a series of clattering sounds and a pungent smell diverted my attention away. The sight made me wonder if I really shared genes with the creator of the mess. In the centre of shattered glass and what was supposed to be the best and costliest wines of the world stood Rudra, carrying a mattress thrice the size of him!
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Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
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