Posted:
This one shot is dedicated to my adorable Farro and Kash ... Thanks to their conversation on one of my story threads and with this Me and Fariah petition to Kashish to bring some badlaav. Hope you guys like this!
Banner by Kashish
MUSING
"Kabhi neem neem ... Kabhi shehad shehad ... kabhi narm narm ... kabhi sakht sakht ... Mora piya ... Mora piya ... Mora piya...
Omkara smiled drowsily slumping on the bed ... He knew Gauri was singing these sweet nothings for him ... Looking at her face he observed her features. He knew she was worn out, exhausted and needed a proper eight hour sleep more than anyone else but like every other night even now she is trying to finish her sewing, weaving and embroidery job because their little one Adya was fast asleep for a while.
Omkara had genuinely insisted that she should take a break from being a professional seamstress for while because taking care of a baby was the toughest job in the world. She kept thinking about taking a break till Omkara requested her to stop and then actually scolded her because it was her health that was taking a toll ... Gauri had to agree but this was one last lehenga she had to stitch and deliver ... this lehenga was special ... it was meant for a bride ... then she had promised him that she will take care of herself a little more.
Omkara looked at Gauri struggling with the sequins in the hemline of the lehenga and then he looked at the little sleeping beauty. His Adya. Their Adya. Her heart thumped in accordance with slow, shallow breaths. Serenity was plastered across her face as she slept. At peace, her consciousness swirled in the land of dreams, oblivious to the physical world. Unaware of the kind of beautiful she is becoming with every passing day.
Omkara realized that Adya was not much of a sleeper. She loved to pray to Shankarji. She loved to eat cerelac. She loved to dress up and she even had a special liking for pompoms. She always kept Gauri busy with one thing or the other and many a times even him. He had learnt how to change her diapers, how to make her bathe, how to make her wear clothes and that yellow was his baby's favorite color. And yes he also took a professional class to learn how to massage a baby.
Omkara would be forever thankful to Gauri for bringing Adya into their life and letting him be Adya's father. Yes. He was a bit hesitant in the beginning about how Gauri had decided to adopt a baby into her and eventually their lives but Adya became the very reason that he learnt more about Gauri ... that he realized the true potential of Gauri as his wife, as his child's mother and as a woman. In future, he wants her to be pregnant ... he wants to experience the joy of bringing his off spring to the world but that will take some time.
Right now, all his time and effort is meant for Adya who is happily sleeping tucked in her blanket with her favorite teddy bear which her favorite Fariah maasi got for her. The day had been long for Adya ... today after so much of effort and hard work she managed to speak her first word ... MA' and then everyone celebrated with her. Her jaanu dadi started narrating her the stories of OmRu's childhood and then her Ru Chachu did a photoshoot with her with which her Bade Papa started teaching her A for Apple' and B for ball'. Adya is a daddy's good girl ... she eats on time and sleeps on time but Adya's mumma is not ... She keeps working.
After a tiresome day ... watching her sleep worked as a remedy for Omkara but when his little girl giggled, a thing she did a lot when she felt happy... Man, he swore even the birds kept quite to hear her beautiful laughter emerging and filling the air with gorgeous sounds coming from deep her chest, composing what is today his favorite song. Adya's giggle softened the room, as if her gentle sound could make the lamplight more golden and the fires burn warmer.
Her bright black eyes found his and she laughed, as only a baby can laugh a sweet sound unblemished by the hurts of life. Her little face glowed from a light within, and her miniature fingers grasped his, and held tight. She knew! She knew everything. Somehow it felt like she knew that her father needed comfort in the dead silence of life, she knew he deserved joy in the midst of all pain. He always holds her to his chest tightly and he promises to himself that would never let this precious bundle go no matter what came he would protect her and cherish her.
Childhood memories are often invoked by her baby fragrance, for him it is the smell of potatoes being fried by his Dadi in old oil - then he is at the seaside, shingle underfoot, fishing boats glistening in the afternoon sun with his brothers. Yet for him the strongest memory, the one that feels most like being sunk into one of those alternative reality machines, is the giggle from baby Rudra. It was more delicate than wind-chimes and just as chaotic, just as melodic. In those moments he has Adya once more, innocent, fresh, an unknown future before her. Then he dwells there, mind sinking into my own self-made delusion.
Mischief is in the eye of the beholder. It certainly is for Adya. He knows what she's going to do before she does it, it's all there in her eyes. The way she tries to eat soap while bathing or the way she talks to her teddy bear about everything she wants to do or the way she tries to pull her papa's hair when she is angry with him. The girl has a busy brain, all those ideas for "playing crib and whimper" and so few opportunities to get away with it. Most of the time she's a coiled spring of hunger and so she is so annoyed, then something changes, the odds move in his favor and the sparkle begins
In her embrace the world stopped still on its axis. He feels like she blesses him with her little hands and she consoles him about everything ... that she likes the way he paints ... she waits for him in the evening and cries a lot when he is late ... and no matter what she will always be proud of him. There was no time, no wind, no rain. Omkara's mind was at peace. How could it be that he had not assumed what Adya's love for what it was before? Pure. Unselfish. Undemanding. Free. Maybe it is what they call being a father means. He feels his body press in her, soft and warm. This was the love he had waited for, prayed for. He inwardly thanks God and his wife and hugs her all the tighter every time . A love like this was to be cherished for life. Finally, he was home and Adya is a part of him.
It is true that blood does not define their relationship and that she was not born with a birth certificate named Oberoi but she is his Daughter and he will look after her and teach her everything about life. Were they ever strangers? He is not sure if they were. That day he first saw her there was something even then, though he did not know what. He wonders if there's an element of time that allows them to feel a strong love, like an orange glow bursting over a dark horizon. It was light for their eyes only, something to carry for both of them through this life. He is her Papa and She is his Adi.
It was the dawn of the person he is today, the person he was destined to be. He would give up anything in the world for Adya, he would do anything to keep her safe. Though he works hard to keep her comfortable now and into her parent's old age, Even if they become poor in money and material facility he will risk even if it meant losing his own heart. For he recalls the day Adya and his bond was forged. It was like being let into the warmth after a lifetime of winter. He could never wish to go back to even a day before that. She is the greatest treasure of his life, not just one, both of them. Adya and Gauri.
He keeps falling in love with his wife and his baby and each time is harder than the last. Every time the feeling gets deeper, more complete, more bewitching. There isn't a thing he would not do to keep them secure and away from the harshness of the world. Like mother like daughter never have to think that they have to ask for his affection because they don't, and they never did. The more love he gives them the more he has a bursting inside of him... crazy, huh? The more love they share the more it multiplies. He wished he could say the same of all his family members.
"Done for the day! Gauri announced excitedly clapping both her hands and Omkara had to look at her creation and unbiasedly admit that it was beautiful. The girl who will wear this lehenga is going to be a beautiful bride. And again thoughts of Adya twirl into his mind ... how even his daughter will go away from him and that too happily.
There it goes again, his inner dialogue, but it's not as you think Omkara. It whispers to him, "Even your princess will grow up ... become a beautiful woman, no way back, she will get married and , leave..." The world seems closer to his eyes and the air becomes more soupy, harder to breathe. A glossy sheen coats his eyes that was not there before and his thoughts scatter like there's an electrical storm in his head, too many short-circuits to make any sense. All the while the only thing that comes through is " You have to let her ... go away ... and she will be happy..."
The thought of future made him sigh ... fluttered on the winds like a butterfly decorated with a perfidy amount of colors. A sigh. Desire and distress. Streamed through the air. All the people she will invite to her wedding. Her Farro maasi topping the list. A sigh. Disappointment and gladness. Decorated the air leaving a path. How she will plan everything from music to food to her wedding dress. A sigh. Of relief and worry. Leaping through the air like a dear. That her mother will make her a wedding lehenga like she has made one now. A sigh. Of happiness and sadness. Dancing through the air. Even his daughter will find a life partner and fall in love. A sigh. Of excitement and fear. Strolling through the air like a roller coaster. That she will take all wedding vows and promise to be a good woman, good wife and a good mother ... like her mother. A sigh means it all. She will go away.
The gloom of the wintry day crept into him like the damp into bare timber. It seeped into his pores, travelling to his heart which beat more morosely. Even the bird song came to him as if from a deep well rather than high in the trees. Then from under the steady blanket of grey cloud came a steady rain that moved like a mist in chaotic directions but was thick enough to soak his vision of maybe twenty five years later.
When he first felt he would describe his heartache as like an insatiable fire that burnt all the oxygen in his body leaving him listless and empty. But right now it is more like a thin layer of ice, cooling the insides, a gentle reminder of the pain that has to come and a warning not to stoke that fire again. They say once bitten, twice shy, but he thought for him it is more like forever shy. He can't see himself putting his heart out there again and losing someone he so dearly loves. A life without Gauri had been a miserable experience for him he does not think he can survive another inferno.
It is not the first time that he is thinking about Adya's marriage and even the heart ache coming with it was not new. He would describe his heartache as like a the music of a great orchestra. At times it was quiet and allowed him to function, at other times the violins would play and he would be sad, then at other times it would rise to a crescendo and the anger would burst from his chest in a desperate shout of love. Right now there was a flute playing and he was able to remember her with fondness, that was rare though, and he enjoyed the moment seeing Adya sleep near him ... He knew the little wonder trusted him with her life ... she knew that her Papa is always there for her ... she is right.
"Hi She said sitting beside him on the bed.
"Hey
"Tell me ... what are you thinking ... making so much of effort. She requested running her fingers in his hair.
"I am thinking of how you will design a wedding dress for Adi too. He pointed towards the lehenga on the mannequin and Gauri understood his real worry.
"Yes ... I will the day Shankarji sends the man who is meant for her ... Gauri smiled massaging his shoulders.
"I LOVE YOU ... and I wanted you to love me ... I thought my Shankarji has sent you to me ... to save me. ... Gauri's voice resonated in Omkara's mind.
Omkara worried. Things he felt he should have done, coupled with his perceived failures dominated his mind. He thought about his actions and words, finding them inadequate. Festering guilt rendered his mind ineffective, his short term memory shot. He had lost his wife, forgot what it means to breathe peacefully. But if his brothers called by needing his counsel, he would smile warmly and set a pot of coffee before sitting to listen as if there was nothing he wanted to do more. Helping others settled his mind, allowing his logical thinking to re-emerge. In such a manner he had learnt more about business from Shivaay and tried to behave young learning it from Rudra.
Gauri knew him very well ... she knew all his doubt and worries and also his capability of considering himself a man not good enough. A difficult person, that he definitely is but a bad person ... an absolute no. As the time passed by Gauri has realized many things about her Jatadhari. One that she can do anything for him ... Two that he is worth every pain and effort and Three that her child could not have had a better father ... Apart from the fact that Omkara Singh Oberoi is too possessive about the women he loves ... and right now this man needs to be distracted.
She traced his lip lightly with the tip of her finger. It pouts slightly, and she has such an urge to bite it, to kiss it, to wrap him up in a quilt and listen to their gentle breathing, watching the cotton ripple like skipping stones and sharing crooked smiles. His lip feels slightly chapped under her feather light touches but she simply cannot bring herself to give a damn. She gazed so intently at each divot of his lip, as if it could map out ancient seas and future plans and tell her everything she does not know. And she does not want to look up. Because if she looks up, she may find herself at the mercy of guilty eyes, pleading, begging to know what she was doing, and questioning why she was doing it? Why does she have to love him so much and she is not at the liberty to say because she simply does not know. "She does love him." But she is not able to form an answer with her lips because she is so focused on his.
Then the memory ... the very reason of his tensed muscles passes, her eyes seeing once more, her ears hearing the here and now. She wished she had known just how painful her fixation on his lip would be, because loving the rest of him was truthfully torturous in the beginning and sometimes she looks back and wonders if she could have even stopped herself, warned herself away from such elegant heartbreak. Would she have even listened? ... well no.
Or would the slight tickle of his breath expelling from that goddamn lip cause his words to stick to his throat, plastering themselves to her trachea and refusing to dispel into the palpable air. And the silence would have carried on forever and ever, until they dispersed into dust and scattered themselves between remains of atoms of an age long gone - until a time she might hear his voice echo through the nothing... can that happen?
His hand reaches for hers and they interlock as they kiss tentatively, passionately and then, tenderly. He pulls the thick woolen sweater up, over her head and she could feel the little sparks of static dancing over her skin. She is not sure whether they are from her sweater or if they are from where his hands gently skimmed her skin; either way, it's a magical feeling and causes her to shiver in complete pleasure and ecstasy.
His lips press against hers with passion, love, and affection as his warm hands roam all over her body leaving a trail of sparks in their wake.
"You're so beautiful. He whispers so she felt his warm breath in her ear. She wrinkled her nose in protest.
"Shut up and kiss me. She whispers back.
His lips gently brush hers and she smelled his minty breath as their bodies press together in a much needed hug. He slowly massages her breast as they kiss, causing her to arch her back and moan softly into his mouth. She leans her head into his chest, her chest rising and falling dramatically under his influence. He smiles into the kiss as her fingers tug at his long hair and her other hand scratches at his back.
"Om, I love you She whispered as their eyes made contact.
"I know He said holding her nape.
Indian Idol 15
