Drabble- Reactions, After The Wedding (Drabble 3-RUDRA) Pg 7-3rd March - Page 5

RUDRA SINGH OBEROI

Rudra sat in the car, staring at the door to the Girl's Hostel. Seema had told him that she had taken a room here. Cheap rent, no lift, but good security, for a single girl in the city. On the fifth floor. Soumya wouldn't be pleased to know that her privacy was worth exactly two Louis Vuitton bags and a pair of Gucci dresses to that Seema. But here, two guards patrolled the front, serious looking fellows with moustaches and honest, non-bribable faces. Clearly he wouldn't be just walking in.

Rudra sighed, defeated.

If there was any other way to quiet the raging storm within him, to dry the tears that still pooled in his eyes, making driving so goddamn difficult, he wouldn't be here. But there wasn't. She was it. No one was so...right. No one else deserved to know what happened at the fake wedding-- including what happened, after. No one else knew exactly what they had all fought for. No one would understand what they had lost, when Bhabhi left them, this evening. But her. No one but her.

And Rudra knew. No one back home would know how to deal with him right now. Would hold him against her heart, would soothe his tears, stroke his hair. He needed it. The softly spoken words of comfort. A whispery voice, husky with sense and innocence. Arms to hold him close. A soft place to rest his head. At peace. To tell him what had happened, what to do about it. How to live with a betrayal, or a loss. He didn't even know. But how to find peace.

And he..Rudra..he needed...peace.

To silence his pain, he needed to understand what had happened. He didn't blame her. Bhabi, that is. How could he? Rudra Singh Oberoi, blaming his Anika Bhabi? Bull.Shit. But he needed to know why. Why Anika Bhabi had done this to them. After winning over Tia last night, why she had made them all lose something so important, tonight. Her love. She refused to live her life with them. Refused to be his sister, Om's best friend, his brother's wife. To be their..Anika. She had left four hours ago, papers signed. Big words. Annulment. As if the wedding had never happened between Bhaiya and her. As if they had never laughed, fought, cherished. Protective of each other like a wall of fire, tender to each other as blooms in moonlight. As if Om and he had never seen their love and their despair, a fierce warrior like devotion to their family and to each other. Their eerie connection, tuned into their own language, their two hearts beating to one heartbeat. As if she had never taken away the emptiness and silence inside Bhaiya. Inside the Mansion. Filled him, and them. With color, with joy.


Rudra had begged, cried, tried to hold her luggage, bar her from the door. Screamed at Khanna to lock her into the bedroom. She was going nowhere! Bhabi had cried, tears drowning her cocoa eyes, standing by the open door. Shaking, holding herself tight, like she was breaking apart. Not answering him, not giving up. Not looking back at her husband, standing by the stairs. And beyond telling Rudra not to follow her, not to stop her, to let her go, Shivaay Bhaiya had said nothing.


Once she was gone, Bhaiya had gone back up the stairs, slowly. Painfully dragging himself up, step by step. Holding the banister, breathing hard. His back-- his Superman's stiff, iron hewed back had been bent. Like an old man, with a burden on his shoulders that staggered him. And no one would tell Rudra, WHY.

Why they had to lose her, after Tia's exposure. Why Bhaiya looked a 100 years old, his eyes a shade of jade not found in nature, so dull and lifeless. Like a candle after being blown out. After everything they had done to make Tia leave, why Anika Bhabhi had to leave, too. No one would tell Rudra what they had done wrong! What was wrong, how they had hurt her so much she wanted to leave Mumbai itself, and not just them. She would not tell Rudra. There was no one else to ask why. Bhaiya was locked in his room, stumbling around the poolside, drinking everything alcoholic in sight. Om was there, trying to stop him from killing himself, or falling unconscious into the pool, or both.

So here he was. Rudra. Because as he stormed out after the showdown by the pool, driving like a maniac for hours, one thought had come. She would know. Why Bhabi had done this. Love Angel, right? She would know why things went from perfect to shattered, from heaven to hell in one single night.

But first he had to get to her. Sometimes being such a well known cheapde had its drawbacks, and this was going to be one of those times. No security guard worth his nightstick would believe that Rudra Singh Oberoi, the notorious playboy of the Oberoi empire was here, at the Radhavan Girls' Hostel. At 11 at night. To TALK. Rudra picked up his phone. And though he had deleted her number so he wouldn't be tempted weeks ago--- like her, the number floated at the forefront of his mind tonight.

He called. She answered. And Soumya, after his first broken, sobbing words, told him to wait. She was coming... don't cry, Rudra ... just wait, hold on. She was coming for him. And she proved she was a better person than Rudra could ever be, when she came down, spoke softly to scowling guards, and took him upstairs.

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But then again, Rudra thought, has he climbed up 5 flights behind the stiff, silent figure. Then again, Soumya never did deserve to be chained to someone as terrible as him. She had always been the better person, yeah? Hadn't he set her free, after all? Whether she knew it now, she would thank him for it, later. He had liberated her. Freedom. From him, Rudra, A man so immature and useless, he didn't even get respect from those who loved him the most-- his brothers. What a husband he would have made for her! A serious, kind, smart, amazing woman!

And here he was, Rudra. Filled with raging emotions he couldn't control, with useless brains in a family of sharks. The youngest, most unwanted child of a destroyed family. Filled with ugliness, secrets, enemies. A man who was hollow inside. Empty headed. Empty hearted. Empty, but for his drive to fill it up, with things. With shallow women, with drug fueled parties, greedy, sly friends. She was well out of his empty life, as he lived it, doing empty, stupid things. the only things he could so.

But stupid or not, he was still a fine actor, yeah?

He had tricked her fine. He had tricked them all, and they had bought it, yeah? The callous, cruel Playboy Oberoi. A little scary, how easy it had been, to channel Shivaay Bhaiya back when he had rejected Soumya. Stupid cold words, spoken with no emotion, no reason but to cause pain. At first Bhaiya's icy coldness, his casual cruelty wasn't enough. But reputation helped. And he was the playboy who saw all women like playtoys-- who had discarded her, the very best person he had even met-- and moved on.


Rudra had done what had to be done, what she was too good, too innocent and kind to do. She was starting to care, he had known it. Like, really care, like he did. After the mangalsutra thing, after the video of their marriage played out, she had been tied to him, and had started to just accept it, not fight back. So he had done it. She had been freed from a marriage she didn't deserve --- a mistake he had made, that she was paying for. And he? well, he had done a solid for his best friend. Kept his promise to his partner. To watch out for her, to protect her when she didn't know how to protect herself.

In return for this one good deed, his one decent act, he had not taken from her anything more than her hatred. But the pain of her loss-- that he had taken for free. So Soumya was free. From his toxic father, who would never accept a nurse's daughter as his bride. From his mother, who was so weak herself, she would drain Soumya dry, trying to protect her too. From his so called friends, who would break her self respect. From his society, which would break her very soul. From Shivaay Bhaiya and even Om, who didn't want this, for her sake as well as his. They knew him best, and they'd still dismissed his marriage as a prank, even before he could assure them it was a partnership.

One person had understood. Guessed. Stared at him out of narrowed eyes, as he acted oh-so-casual. As he called random girls to come over, to party. Who had hugged him, saying softly, sadly, that he was a fool, in love.

But Anika Bhabi was gone.

So. This evening was an extra bonus he was going to take from Soumya. The last thing he would ask from her. Just a small bit of peace that he would take from her, in exchange for her freedom. Which had cost him everything inside him, to give. She would tell him why Bhabi left. And what to do about the gaping hole in his heart, where his confidence and trust in the Obros had been. His heart had never felt right, since the night of her own exit from the Mansion, to this damned Hostel. But he had not bothered her, had he?

No.

Rudra wiped his tears as he sank onto her bed, shaking. Soumya sat before him, eyes wide, tears and deep pain swimming in their expressive depths. He stared up at her, begging. No words. And within moments, he was cradled in her arms. No words. He sighed, breathing in her roses and honey scent, his blood calming, his pounding heart reaching for and finding her soothing heartbeat.

Rudra sank into her arms. And before the grief took over, just one more thought came, a fierce one. Yes. YES. Just for tonight, Just for a little while. Peace.

She owed him this.