Drabble Series: A Romantic Divorce (NEW-DRABBLE Pg 34) 25th February - Page 14

Awesome awesome Awesome.

Wow...you are a wonderful writer...Hi i am Jala . I am new to this forum. But i am a regular reader of your series , all of them ...i hope no one here would mind me befriending you and all other wonderful people here...can i get a pm from you whenever you update the series..please consider my request. Thank you all...

ok i strongly say this is one of fav stories

when i saw part 4 updated on pg 18 and when i saw the post drabble "five". I literally panicked that i left one chapter somewhere. then i crossed checked it couple of times and told myself to calm down and its just a small confusion. See this is what your story does to me. pure addiction i would say.

More drabbles and more long stories and please please more of your three unfinished works...I love them all!

this is fantastic.

Loved it. You are too good. I am a fan of all your stories. Simply awesome''''

Ladies, FIRST--- my apologies. I am suffering from extreme writers block for some reason. I have time, I have ideas/plot. My short stories have been staring at me, waiting for their updates and I cant seem to get it right. Whatever I write is.. bad, and I'm too ashamed to post the chapters for them. But of course, a Drabble I don't WANT to write comes pouring out at midnight. So as something is better than nothing, I am posting the product of my writer's block-- Drabble 5 (part 1). Sorry in advance if its crap! 😕

DRABBLE FIVE: YOU WILL NOT ATTRACT ANY ATTENTION

The guests at the New Years Party being held at the Oberoi Mansion were stunned. Stunned, I say. Of course, for the past 30 years the Midnight Ball at the Mansion had been the highlight of the winter social season in Mumbai. Socialites and industrialists from all over India joined the First Family of Indian Business to ring in the New Year in style. But this year's festivities had delighted the crowd like nothing else had managed to do. The theme had taken a full 180 degree turn this year. Envious ladies were noting the details right now, snapping pics and muttering into voice mail so they could to reuse these ideas at their own parties.

India. That was the theme. And not the hi-fi verison these people were used to--- traditional, normal, everyday India--- served up with a soupcon of class and perfection. The concept appealed to the hidden ethnic heart beating inside high society. But it was a better version, since here was all of the charm and none of the "health issues" that made walking into a mela or street bazaar impossible for these people.

The combination of ethnic decor and bright colors, the rajasthani tents, the band music, puppet shows, fire dancers and acrobats entertained this, the most blase, jaded crowd imaginable. The Indian Mela theme was clearly a magical, smashing success. There were food stalls serving chaat, papri, spicy tikkas and gol gappas. Cotton candy was being spun out of imported sugar into technicolor fairy tufts. Icy golas in rainbow flavors were prepared by turban clad men, using mineral water ice. The combination of "low class" and "high brow" allowed the creme de la creme of India society to pretend, for just this one evening, that they too were the aam janta--- ordinary folk who had brought their sweethearts and wives to a fair.

Arm in arm, glittering society ladies tried on glass bangles, squealed over henna designs. Diamond wearing aunties haggled over glass embellished chunris and silver jewellery the Oberois were giving out as party favors. These people, who by day ruled boardrooms had turned into excited teenagers tonight. Husbands who could have bought up Mumbai shot at balloons, to win a 25 rupee teddy bear for their giggling wives.

Queuing up to climb into spinning jholas or to ride the wooden charka, socialites laughed as they got whirled about in the night. Their handsome, tuxedo clad escorts gobbled down pani puri and chola baturi. Several couples found themselves feeling quite young again. Uncles who were leaders of industry now stole behind stalls to kiss their blushing aunties. Behind them, above the lawns decorated with streamers and oil lanterns, the night sky dazzled with firecrackers.

Janvi, Dadi-ji and Pinky were literally harassed by group after group of ladies all evening. Each matron demanded to know where they had found their event planner. More importantly -- what was her contact information? The women were sharks, bidding against each other so they could get their pretty, polished hands on the genius who had put this event together for the Oberois. And the woman responsible for this brilliantly planned event was--- nowhere to be found.

********************************************************************************************

That made absolutely no sense to Shivaay, as he stood at the terrace level, a few feet above the party guests. Frantically, he scanned the garden, weaving between laughing party guests and greeting random people who called out to him. Where was she? She had come down with him, dressed in the rose pink ghagra with the crystal covered choli he had dreamed up five days ago. He had hunted Mumbai for a designer worthy of the special order (and who was able to understand Shivaay Singh Oberoi's inexpert but very specific design sketches). Once made, he had Priyanka deliver "her" gift to her Bhabhi, with the matching chandelier earrings and bangles Anika did not know were real diamonds.

But there was no woman dressed like a blooming rose, embellished with diamante and silver gotti anywhere. Shivaay fast- walked along the mela stalls, and even checked the area behind the garage, where the cooks had set up enormous pots and were cooking the evening's biryani. He couldn't see her anywhere.

His family, however, were all out in force. Badi Maa was laughing as Badi Papa tried cotton candy for the first time, getting sugar stuck all over his beard. His mother and Dadi were waiting in line for the Jhola ride, talking excitedly about Pind this and Kaal Ke Zamaana that. And Om was, as usual, looking hunted while socialites of the "artsy" type draped all over him. Briefly Om's eyes met Shivaay's and his pleading look made his elder brother laugh. Just like at every party, the ladies were trying to get the "intense, sexy, artiste Oberoi" to give them his phone number. Rudra was by the shooting stall, laughing excitedly as Soumya shot the balloons with eerie accuracy, expertly winning a stuffed giraffe for him.

Shivaay shook his head. Tia had left for Paris along with Mrs Kapoor for New Years'. Shivaay had insisted that Anika would come to this party tonight. She was his wife, even if the world didn't know it yet. He wasn't about to let her go and hide. At some point, they would have to come out with this truth before the entire world. Society would have to meet her, see her around him. So, she had to start interacting with "his" people, sooner or later. Why not tonight, under his own roof? She had stared at him, silent, an odd, quizzical look in her eyes as he had explained his plan. But she had not said no. She had listened to Pinky's advice, to Janvi's social suggestions. Quietly absorbed Shivaay's hours of instructions on what to say, what to do, where to stand, how to smile and greet people. How to not be..Anika, really.

He had gone out of his way to make this event a success for her. He had dressed her himself, so she didn't feel awkward, so she looked like she fit in. He asked the girls to supervise her, and told his family to be ready to step in if she did something too gauche or embarassing. He sat in her room, watching her get ready, firmly ignoring the girls when they tried to make him leave. And as she got ready, he watched her, his eyes not leaving her expressive face. There was worry there, and panic. And..sadness. Shivaay stared, puzzled. Knowing in his gut, he was missing something important here.

As he watched her transform into an Oberoi princess,Shivaay wanted to say words of support, that did not come. He wanted to say-- he would be there, with her. He would be right beside her. If it all got to be too much for her, he would bring her right back up, and they could try something else instead. His heart turned over at the sheen of fear in her cocoa eyes, and he thought.. screw it. If it didn't go well, it didn't go well. There was always next time, and he would try again. He wanted to say all this, but as always, the words of tenderness and love did not come. More instructions, more stern commands to his anxious wife did. Be careful, graceful, proper. Not be Anika.

She had looked at him then, reflected in her dressing room mirror, her eyes mysterious, her cheeks flushed. He thought she was just seeking a bit of reassurance, but Shivaay suddenly wanted to kiss those pouty pink lips. To wrap that sinfully curved body into his arms. To unpin the tissue thin silver dupatta, and throw the girls out. It was his eternal problem. One look from her, and he went absolutely incandescent with desire. He wanted to.. comfort her, tell her she mattered, not all this. But Soumya was dabbing Anika's eyes with black shadow, Priyanka was behind her, tying the strings on the backless choli so they webbed across her creamy back. Anika looked down, and the moment was over.

Just as he started wondering if attending the party was really so important, when she was looking like that, Badi Maa had bustled in. He had then been shooed away by Janvi, who had come to check on Anika, only to find Shivaay sitting and staring at his wife like a "typical Roadside Romeo." He had been tossed out, still stammering at her description, only to find his brothers waiting, ready with more jokes that made his ears burn.

But he had waited right outside, and in spite of the roars of laughter from Rudra and the snickers from Om, he walked his Princess down the stairs. He led her out with his family, to greet the arriving guests. Once there, Anika smoothly joined the ladies around Dadi, while he was dragged away by Tej to meet some business associates. For half an hour, from the corner of his eye, he had kept a watch on a blur of rose and silver. But just a few moments of being distracted when some friends from business school came up, and she was gone? All alone, here! He had to find her!

WHERE was she? Behind him, the ballroom area was where the senior men had gathered, to drink desi daru and munch paneer pakoras they had not eaten since they were kids. His father was there, with men so senior, they were too serious and powerful for even Shivaay Singh Oberoi to entertain alone. She would not be there. Shivaay was about to turn away when...

"Arre Ratan Uncle-ji menne apko guarantee deti hu, naa! Darr se gala sookh gaya kya, aapka? Ek bar try kijiye, jhakkas feeling hoga aapko!"
____________________________________________________
Thats part one, stay tuned for part 2 of this Drabble! Please comment and like and I'll post that part soon. In the meantime, apki bari-- If you enjoyed / hated /want more, do let me know!!

Priceless...that was so mych fun.

Absolutely love their chemistry...i marvel at ur attention to detail...he found her...this is going to b fun...