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I stopped watching Ishqbaaaz after a week of started watching it because of lazy writing of the show but somehow my sister got addicted to the rebranded magic of GK and throughly enjoys annoying me by telling me the twists and turns of the show. This piece of fan-fiction is inspired by her midnight rants and for all of you who I believe might appreciate my contribution to the forum as a fanfic-writer.
My previous One Shot on IB: The Last Name
For those who might enjoy my style of writing, I have written fan-fictions for IPKKND and Tashan-e-Ishq. The Index-es are linked in my signature below.
OS | Broken Fragments
"Mein kaam pe jaa rahi hoon." Anika uttered coldly before leaving the breakfast table.
Shivay nodded slowly while refusing to look up from the plate in of burnt toast in front of him which had been provided to him curtsy of his new wife. His eyes slowly turned to look at Sahil who gave him a sympathetic smile while grabbing his crutches and moving to follow her sister out so he could be dropped off to school.
In mere seconds, the door closed shut and the shuffling of shoes on the broken wooden patio diffused into the air allowing silence to settle in. He lifted his head up and walked over towards the counter to pick up left over butter to lather his bread with. Not understanding what to do next, he sat quietly on the couch, crunching onto his breakfast and reflecting on how much he doesn't understand so much of the world still.
His train of thought was broken by Sundari bua walking in on him. He prepared himself to hear her daily taunts on him, wondering weather today was the day she would rephrase her yesterday's taunt or repeat it.
"Anika ne tou jaise iss ghar ko aasharam samaj liya hai. Khud tou aai, apne saath sare zamane ka boojh le aai baghair kisi munafe ke." She exaggerated her sigh, seating herself next to him and switching on the TV.
He pulled himself up feeling squished by the forceful leaning on him. His attention was caught off guard as he decided to walk back to the bed he shared with Sahil, previously where Anika used to sleep; with an envelope addressed to Anika. It wasn't a bill or one of those commercial letters with advertisements and thank you letters. It had the address of Chandra Industries current CEO.
He picked the letter up, stealing a glance at Bua ji and thankfully finding her engrossed with the television; and walked off towards the bed.
"What do the Chandras' want from Anika? Aur pher this, a personal letter sent to her." He questioned himself. Eventually deciding on not opening anything personal, he carefully kept the letter on the night stand. He pulled his phone out of charging and silently sat, putting soft instrumental music on and browsing up on his families' events.
He sighed wistfully, his eyes wandering off to the picture of Anika with Sahil kept on the night stand. How was it possible to lose everything at the same moment? How?
**
Om looked around the empty board room. He was sitting in the chair that Shivay had rightfully earned and the guilt of standing by the lie ate him up once again as the steely emptiness of the room sunk in. He pushed himself off the chair and pulled a bottle of old whisky out of the cabinet.
It took less then a minute for him to drain half of the bottle don his throat, reliving the burning sensation of feeling alive rather then clashing with the chilling numbness. His eyes wandered past the blinds, in between the small gaps at a woman who was running after a rickshaw.
It was her.
The bottle dropped from his hand, the unexpected rush in his feet carrying him out of the building, pushing past the guards and following her as far as his legs could carry him. He panted, holding himself up by leaning up on his knees to see her turn back with bewildered eyes at him. He hadn't called her out but the look in her eyes made him feel guilty of his actions somehow. She looked away, her back glimmered with the sunlight reflecting off the cheap stars sown on her dress. Maybe a minute had passed by as he stood up again to walk towards her but she was quick in escaping. He couldn't blame her for that. She had pulled herself up onto the bus just as it stopped.
He had gotten quicker too and she had perhaps underestimated that. Finding the earth beneath him grappling for a moment, he himself hailed a rickshaw to follow her back to her house.
He squirmed over the greasy seat, trying not allow his brain to relive a flashback of his old days where his moral ground was above everything that stood. He took off the coat, impatiently tapping his thighs and constantly asking the driver to hurry along.
"Ishana." He mumbled, trying to focus in between the haziness taking over his brain, "Itna zaida nahi peena chaiye tha."
The rickshaw stopped near the entrance to the colony where her house was located. He got off, his shiny shoes stepping right into a muddy pothole. He heaved a heavy sigh and walked towards her door seeing she had rushed inside, the doors closing down on his face with sudden fervor that the edge of her dupatta dress was caught behind.
She opened the door, her face trying to spew hatred and but her eyes betraying the expressions.
"Ishana!" his voice was hoarse.
"Aap yahan kyun aain hain?",her voice was hoarse.
"Mein ne jhoot bola hai." he blurted almost as fast as he could before the door shuts on his face again. Her face froze midway, the exasperation and annoyance on her face glistening brightly.
"Mein ne jhoot bola hai." he started off again, "Agar saach bolta or saach ka saath deta toh zaida dard hota. Har kisi ko. Iss leye mein ne jhoot bol diya. Bhohat saaloon se jhoot bol raha hoon. Tum zinda kaise rehti ho jhoot bol ke?"
"Jaise app mere samne zinda khare hain, waise." She replied curtly a moment later of being caught off guard.
"Mera matlab woh nahi hai." he tried explaining himself, his eyes trailing away from her face to her dress, the pastel colors with bright glasses stuck on them shouting liveliness.
"Jo dard pehle dafa dekha tha na, woh dard jhoot nahi tha Omkara. Mein jhoot bolti hoon par is leye kyun ke jhoot meri majboori hai. Jhoot bolna galat nahi hai par kabhi kabhar sach ke kante jhoot ke dard se zaida khatarnaak hotein hai. Lagta hai iss bar yeh aap bhi jaan gain hain." her voice was rigid.
He spoke up, a bit hesitantly, "Mujhe phir se woh mauka do jo pehle bar dena chati thi." He looked at his reflection in her eyes. His hair, now chopped off and his clothes replaced by corporate suits similar to that of his father. She was a dancer. She fooled people for a living. Why would she give him a chance?
Perhaps the unknown sentiment and unspoken words of the moment were felt by her because she laughed, her smile was bright and loopy and her eyes sparkled weirdly for the second that she let herself loose. She composed herself and smiled at him, the accusation from the beginning resurfacing.
"Agli baar milne aana, toh kapre purane pehan ke aana." Saying so, she closed the door on his face, astounding him.
The hazzy fluttering in his mind returned as he moved back, his focus disoriented and his existence appearing real to him all over again. He wanted to cry. He wanted to throw himself in Shivay and Rudra's arms and tell them the truth. He wanted to know what had happened between his father and Chote Papa. He wanted everything out in the open. His steps faltered as he walked off the patio and pulled himself onto the bus that had stopped without looking at the destination.
She was going to help him and then perhaps, he would be ready to face the reality.
**
Rudra smiled wistfully looking at his pictures with his brothers from a while ago. All was well in there lives. Well at least there was a pretense of everything being well in their lives until the past decided to ring the doorbell again and no one was ready to keep the door closed.
He got up from the bed and walked out of the room to find Someya cheating on her diet plan again. A small smile crept up on his face, observing her sneakingly stuff herself with the leftover lunch while sitting on the kitchen floor. He went past her towards the living room where her mother was sitting, budgeting expenses of the land from the village.
"Newspaper chaiye?" she asked noticing Rudra's presence.
He nodded and smiled softly, picking up the newspaper off the coffee table in front of her. He opened towards the business section, checking the Oberoi stock prices and scanning the paper with any new information.
His thoughts were broken when Someya came and stood behind her.
"Newspaper ko ghoorne se kuch nahi hoga. Bare baal wale bhaiya se baat kar ke dekho. Kiya paata aab un ka gussa thanda ho gaya ho." she pictched in from behind, startling him.
He looked at her solemnly, dropping the newspaper back where it belonged, walked back to the room. She stared at him gobsmacked. His impolite behavior was getting on her nerves. It had been over a month and all he did was sulk around.
She sat down next to her mother, who consoled her for not losing up hope. "Aab agar saath rehna hi hai toh yeh dekho ke kamzori kiya hai uss ki aur strength kiya hai. Uss ko use kar ke usse push karo. Warna aise toh maan li uss ne kisi ki bhi baat."
"Aaii!" she cried out, almost helplessly not knowing where she stood in her supposed husband's life. Where was she suppose to start stitching up the tatters that there life was?
**
The Oberoi mansion had an eerie silence surrounding the empty rooms of it's previous inhabitants. Priyanka entered the house with a servant carrying her books behind her as she walked past the kitchen and the halls towards her room. Her plain silk dress flowed behind her effortlessly, but did little to help hide the timidness and frightened look of horror creeping on and off her face.
She breathed a sigh of relief as the servant walked out of her room and closed the door behind her. Checking off with the assumption that her mother must be drowning herself with alcohol again, she settled herself on the bed with thoughts of her departed brothers echoing in her mind.
She picked up her phone and pulled up the number of a new acquaintance to call however midway through she disconnected and instead called up Anika.
"Priyanka?" she answered enthusiastically, "Yaar do din se tou tu ne phone hi nahi kiya. Sab theek hai na?"
"Haan." she replied, allowing herself to fall into the pillows. "Tum kaise ho? Shaadi ki tayarrian kaise ja rahi hain?"
There conversation prolonged itself on the most mundane things in there life before Priyanka sighed heavily and dismissed herself. The weariness of her surroundings sunk inside her and unable to figure out what her next steps would be, she pulled the blankets over herself, throwing herself into an abyss of darkness and escape.
Hope ya'll enjoyed the read. Please leave a review.
Itti Si Khushi Sab TV
Bade Achhe Lagte Hain
