Part III | Omkara
"You fell in love with a storm.
Did you really think you would get out unscathed?"
- Nikita Gill, Your Soul is a River
It had been a while since Annika had given advice.
Advice was needed desperately, as it seemed.
Omkara had tried, he really had.
Out of the corner of his eye, he silently observed the scene unfolding in front of him. His eldest sister-in-law, looking as weary as ever, almost dragged herself down the grand flight of stairs that ran through the whole mansion. Behind her, one of the many servants that the Oberois employed followed, clutching a bouquet of blooming roses in the darkest shade of vermillion.
"Kaka, can you take those flowers as far away as possible from me, please? I can't stand being near them."
Annika smiled at him in greeting, before moving soundlessly into the kitchen. It was practically the only place she inhabited now, apart from her room, which she essentially held herself captive in. Almost as if she wasn't aware of her surroundings at all, machine-like even, Annika lacked the life that she had once radiated.
So, she didn't notice a pair of bloodshot grey eyes studying the scene, nor did she see the owner of said eyes abruptly leaving the breakfast table, without a word.
But Omkara did.
As he contemplated following his brother to his room, and attempting to talk some sense into him, the very thought made his stomach sink. He had been doing this for a while now, and even though he knew Shivaay yearned for his understanding, Omkara had withdrew into his studio, and had refused to talk to him. He didn't know if Shivaay knew why, but he assumed that his brother had just thought the disappointment had overwhelmed him - but that wasn't the only reason.
If it was heartbreaking to watch Annika retreat into herself, it was absolute torture watching Shivaay become what he had.
No, he didn't condone anything Shivaay had done.
He had lied to all of them, regarded their faces alight with unrequited happiness, and lied.
His brother had forced a woman to marry him. Not to mention, a woman who wore her self-respect like a shield of fortification from the brutal ways of the world. He had stripped her of all her pride, trampled over her dignity, destroyed everything that Omkara thought Shivaay had loved her for.
It was disgusting, inhumane and merciless, but nothing that he didn't expect from ruthless business tycoon, Mr. Shivaay Singh Oberoi.
Omkara had always told himself, that if it ever fell like it had, he would always pick truth over his family. But now that it came down to it, they were merely words and not beliefs, because he couldn't control the overbearing compassion he felt for his brother.
Annika had suffered, she was suffering, but so was Shivaay.
In all the years that Omkara had been alive, he had never seen his brother like this. He was a workaholic, yes, but the Shivaay that he had witnessed in recent times, had been like the walking dead. He didn't talk properly, eat properly, sleep properly. Mornings were spent in his laptop, and nights were spent at the office, or buried in files in the study.
And even though Omkara wanted to reach out to him, this time, Rudra had beaten him too it.
His younger brother, affectionately called dumb on a daily basis, had reaffirmed Om's unwavering belief in him. The man hiding behind the childish tantrums, and the innocent tendencies, was extremely mature, and stronger than Shivaay and Omkara put together. Last week, eyes brimming with angry tears, he had marched up to his eldest brother and shook him. He had whispered something in his ear too, but Omkara hadn't picked it up, because it seemed to have had its desired effect.
This morning he had seen Shivaay placing the bouquet of roses on Annika's dresser, while she was asleep. It was quite an inappropriate form of redemption, for the extent of calamity that he had caused, but it was a start. Omkara knew that it was infinitely ingenuous to assume Annika would forgive his brother, which Shivaay himself knew, but it was still a blow, when she had rejected the flowers so brutally. It hit a nerve, because the Annika of old would have been more kind.
Not that Shivaay really deserved it.
Fully intending to go find the help that had disposed of the roses, and ask him what exactly had transpired that morning, he instead decided to cautiously make his way towards the main living room, which had just been the producer of a furious roar.
Fully expecting to be greeted with some stupid, stock-market drop, he was startled when he was met with the sight of his ex-girlfriend on the blaring television, and Mr. Oberoi glaring at it, teeth bared, fully resembling a rabid dog. Rudra, Saumya and Priyanka backed away from him slowly, as if one wrong move, and the man would actually bite.
Ridhimma Sahai, featuring on the 9am news, beamed at the camera, the perfect socialite. As she flicked her hair away from her face gracefully, Omkara wondered why he had never seen this side of the woman that he had known for seven years, and found that he didn't really care. People were never what they seemed.
The thought brought back uncharacteristic memories of someone that he had sworn to stop thinking about, and yet, could not. Why had the betrayal of a stranger stung so much more than one of someone that he had known, and loved?
Shaking his head as if to rid the memory of the plague that was Ishaana, he resolutely focused on Ridhimma. Now the brand ambassador of the Indian branch of the World Health Organisation, she had made a rather biting statement in regard to a certain business conglomerate, currently reigning the commercial industry that was direly affecting the environment because of their selfish interest.
Naturally, Tej had almost shook in anger, throwing the remote in his hand, reminding Om of his brother, even as he felt a small smile carving its way onto his own face.
"I'm going to freaking buy the World Health Organisation, and then fire this ridiculous excuse of an ambassador!"
Rudra clamped his hand over Saumya's mouth, before she could point out that it was absolutely not possible to buy the World Health Organisation, because her intelligence, while appreciated, would not be welcome to further ignite his already irate father.
"She has a point, Mr. Oberoi. Oberoi Industries does use illegal dumpsites, which is bad for the environment." Omkara sighed, inwardly marveling at the irony of the situation. This man, who had so easily used Ridhimma in yet another one of his idiotic ploys to get him into the business, was now looking to destroy her career. Business, and its underhanded ways would always astound him.
Tej turned to his son now, eyes alight with fury, and something he couldn't really place. Almost eagerly, he fired up again, waggling a finger at him enthusiastically.
"And what would you know about Oberoi Industries? It's not like you've had any - "
"Annika, when you've finished having breakfast, could you please come to my room? I have something of yours." Om cut in, as he promptly turned around and stalked away towards his room, gesturing at his sister-in-law as he went.
When he finally shut the door of his art studio, and Mr. Oberoi's bellows could not be heard, Omkara found himself sitting in front of an unfinished canvas. In the past month, he had completed more artworks than he had in the year earlier - all in inky charcoal, grey and lifeless. He had shipped them all off to his gallery in Versailles, and according to Raghav, the manager that Shivaay had all but forced onto him, they were doing extremely well.
But this one was different.
This painting had been incomplete for months now.
The murky sways of the infinite hues of grey formed to create a set of eyes. Dark, ablaze with unshed tears, accusatory yet innocent - they were resentful. They were angry, devastated, even. Questioning, like she had - why could no one see the world of pain that she naively hoped that someone would notice, even though she hid it so vehemently?
He had noticed, or at least thought he had, and look what that had gotten him.
It hadn't been touched, ever since he found out.
"Om?"
Annika's voice broke through the cold air of the studio, as she leaned against the door frame nervously. It must have been quite chilling, he had realised later, to walk into an artist's lair and watch as he just stared at an incomplete painting. He knew the feeling, because the few chance times (only emergencies) that he had to visit Shivaay at the office, he had been a fish out of water. Even worse, he had felt uncomfortable, voyeuristic, even, at the thought of encroaching on someone's territory, so unfamiliar to his own.
He beamed at the woman, turning away from the painting, and drew out a stool for her. As she sat down, he ruffled through a stack of papers, with delicate sketches on them, and stopped when he found what he was looking for,
"I was going out to sketch, and I needed some scrap paper. I was looking in the recycling tray, and I found these."
Annika swallowed uncomfortably, and avoided his gaze, as he persisted.
"Aren't these the files for the Luthra wedding?"
"Uhm - "
"Don't lie to me, Annika."
His voice was gentle, yet pressing. It wasn't demanding like his elder brother's and while Om had long known that sometimes quiet was violent, it drew genuinity that nothing physical had ever achieved.
She nodded sullenly, wringing her hands as if to vindicate onus that she shouldn't have felt in the first place.
"I dropped them."
"Why?"
"Om, I don't want - "
"Why?"
He desperately didn't want it to be the reason that he knew at was, but as she finally met his eyes for the first time in the whole conversation, he knew he was setting himself up for disappointment.
"I've had about enough of weddings for the time being."
Omkara sighed, taking his heavy frames off and effectively gazing at the woman before him. Annika, who was one of the bravest, most strong-willed people that he knew, who had always powered through everything that life could have possibly thrown her way, was finally broken. Damaged at the hands of one of his own.
His eyes continued to bore into hers, as if begging her to continue, expecting her to, knowing that she needed to get it out. It was much better to expose a wound earlier, then let it fester, and inevitably, destroy.
"I thought I was ready, but I'm not."
Her voice cracked unpleasantly, and he felt the pit in his stomach get deeper. The guilt of what he was about to do would haunt him for eternities, but he had to try, for Shivaay.
"Annika, I know it doesn't make for anything, but he is sorry. And he needs you." His words made her look back at him accusingly, her voice picking up sound, until she nearly shouted.
"He needs me? He ruined me, Om. I can't - "
"But you don't really mean that, do you?"
His voice rung clear through the studio, startling Annika. He turned away from her again, back to gazing at the resentful eyes staring back at him in ardor. Her tacit compliance told him what it had to.
For the third time that morning, he found himself thinking about Ishaana. As he continued to observe the painting in his direct vision, he couldn't help but believe that there was a reason.
A divine indication, perhaps?
"I knew this girl, a long time ago. She was in terrible circumstances with her family, and her personal life. Even though she was a complete stranger, I found that I understood her pain, and to some extent, she mine. It was inexplicable, but that's just how some relationships work, right?"
Annika nodded, still silent, but even though he was still looking at the painting, he knew she was listening with rapt attention.
"And then one day, I found out that everything was a lie. Everything she said to me was a lie - for my money. Her family needed the money, which I understand, but she could've asked me for money. But no, she lied to me, and tried to steal it."
"Did you forgive her?" Annika finally asked, which now, in turn, made Omkara look back at her, not in anger, but in weariness.
"No, I yelled at her and told her I never wanted to see her face again."
"Oh."
"The issue is that - "
"You do want to see her again."
The revelation hung above both their heads, and Omkara could see Annika musing how to address it.
"What's the problem, then?"
"The problem is; I hate people like her. I hate liars."
"But obviously you don't." Annika interjected, trying to control her tone to match a civil conversation, but anyone could tell that she was becoming more and more frustrated.
"She made me lose all faith in the world."
Omkara knew that Annika had made a choice in the past month. She had an air of forced nonchalance whenever she was in any situation that demanded attention unlike what she gave it, and this was the only way for him to confirm that it was exactly that, and not indifference.
As he watched Annika fidget in her seat, in deep contemplation, he hoped and prayed that what he expected would happen.
Anytime now.
And just like that, the dam broke, and Annika started talking thoughtlessly, mindlessly, urgently.
"Om, you're an artist. You paint with all the colours in the world, but then you expect it to be black and white?"
The first question that she asked almost threw him off balance, because the truth hidden behind her nave analogy was bitter, and yet, fitting.
"She was grey. Grey is not just any colour."
"I know. Grey is in between, but then, aren't we all grey? We all do good; we all make mistakes."
"But some mistakes aren't excusable! She made me a fool. She used me."
"To protect her family."
Even as her words echoed through the room, Omkara realised that Ishaana wasn't the only person on his mind now.
Shivaay, had made a mistake, a grievous one at that, for his family.
They were cut from the same cord. Both protectors, both dark, only caring for their own. Neither Ishaana nor Shivaay thought twice about anyone in the face of their family.
But Annika was a protector too, and yet, did she lie?
"You care about your family, too."
"I do, more so than anything else in my life. I'm not saying what she did was right, Om. Just that she may not be the best person, but there was a reason behind what she did." Annika replied, toying with a brush on the studio table. Her eyes, wide and serious, voice grave, she continued.
"She's repenting, Om, and you need to let her."
Omkara simply searched her face for any doubt, any resentment, and found none. Then, for the first time in months, he reached out towards her painting, and let his calloused fingers run across the smooth canvass. Touching it, was almost like, talking to her after years of no contact. The need came so desperately that he didn't even know he possessed it, but suddenly, he had to see her again.
"What do I do?"
He turned to Annika, who gave him the widest smile that he had seen her sport in ages, and counted on three of her fingers as she spoke.
"Find her, talk to her, forgive her."
"I have, I just can't forget."
You will, one day."
With that, the finality in her tone, and the affectionate squeeze that she gave his shoulder, Annika stood up to leave.
But he had one last thing that he needed to know.
"Annika?"
She stopped, hand on the doorknob, and turned around with a quirked eyebrow.
"How do you feel about roses?"
"I'm allergic to them. Why?"
Omkara just shook his head, and as he left, found himself being filled with relief - like he had been holding his breath for months now, and had finally exhaled.
Annika would become who she once was.
There was still the girl that they knew hiding in her, the one that cared so deeply about everyone around her that it had never given her anything but a world of pain as a reward.
The one that went out of her way to help, to fix the lives of her beloved, while she herself, could barely stay afloat with the turmoil of her own. She was as compassionate as ever, but now she hid behind a mask of ambivalence.
But she was just as willing to forgive, and as she had said, one day, she would forget, too.
So as he packed his bag for an impromptu trip to the art hub, with newfound hope for the future, he prayed that Shivaay would just wait.
And there we have it, Omkara's chapter!
Sorry this one took so long, I had a few things going on and I found that there was so much I wanted to cover in this chapter. I'm still not very happy with this update though, so please bear with me!
This update is for all you Ishkarian's, who were robbed of a pairing that had so much potential.
The chapter, itself, is quite symbolic - for example, I've been wanting to create a Shivaay-Ishaana parallel for a while, as well as having a scene where Annika explains Ishaana to Omkara, like Ishaana once subconsciously did for Annika on the show. The chapter also addresses the roses that we see in the promo, and my take on it. Overall, please read between the lines, because I promise, it'll make the chapter a better read.
Some of you were also asking about Shivaay, so he's in this one, just not for long. However, he'll definitely make more of an appearance soon.
I'll try my hardest to get back to all of your kind comments ASAP, but please keep spamming me because I appreciate them a lot!
Hope you enjoy this one!
Cheers,
Innika
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