This is what happens when one gets so bored, or pressurized or both. Their imaginations get wings. I wanted to write a simple romance - with no diabolical games involved, as much as I love those little mind games, there's something so soothing about falling in love without them.
So here, that's what you're gonna get, the whole deal of simple romance / drama/ angst. I hope you will enjoy!
Prologue
They awaited his decision in the pause that followed. Four pairs of eyes tried to catch his gaze. He avoided his father's victorious one - for they both knew the decision was already made. Even in the dull hum of party music he could recall the end note of their discussion clearly.
"Either you or me, one of us will get married by the end of this month. Think well Omkara, think wisely."
Then his eyes swept past his mother's. Even in the silvery glow of the fairy lights that hung over their heads, the pain was evident in those beautiful orbs. She knew why he was doing this - and she did not enjoy the knowledge. Jhanvi had her lips pursed, as if to stop herself from making a comment, but there was a silent begging in her gaze, asking him not to ruin his life.
Her coffee brown orbs came next. For some reason she watched him with a mild fascination, a certainty that startled him. He was a little taken aback by the trust reflected in those fiery depths. A fragment of their conversation on the dance floor crossed his mind and in his memory her touch on his arm lingered.
"Do me a favor and reject this proposal, a simple "no" would unlock wings for both of us."
"Why?" He tried to keep the guilt from crashing his tone.
"I'm in love with someone else," she stated as if making a comment on the pleasant weather.
"Oh," was all that he had said.
A full minute passed as his mind spun between right and just, moral and duty, his mother and her. At the end, he could only choose one, save the happiness of only one. Was it even a choice to begin with? He could preach the world all he wanted about truth and justice, about vices of self centeredness. But in the end another truth remained. He was selfish, he was weak. He always chose the easy way out. Shivay was the warrior, he was more of an assassin. The difference was of a hair breadth. His brother fought out in the open, he opted for more covert ways, more slippery ways. At the end of the day, he was his father's son.
His eyes flicked up to meet the relatively stranger pair; the eyes of her father, who keenly waited for him to speak.
"Yes.." that word was silent in the night breeze; cold that it could freeze her in mid smile. Her shock, did not break his already broken heart. He had numbed himself to her pain. There was a limit to his tolerance, his guilt. He had decided it then and there, his feelings stopped at his mother's wounds going no further towards her.
And Omkara finally allowed his future father in law to hug him, his father to pat his back and grinned with them, for a moment reflecting the same mirthless cruelty that sometimes defined his father's expression.
He would change himself, his principles and his heart. He would freeze it into a stone, only then would the pain stop and god knows he could take no more agony.
**
"Aap ne patthar ko dil bante hue dekha honga, aaj dil ko patthar bante dekhonge..."
No idea what I ended up writing...🤔
Care to drop a line on what I have done? I'd be the most grateful!😃
Thanks for reading, giving this a minute from your life.😳😳
Love,
Sakura
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