Hi everyone! Anju here.
This is actually the third chapter of my ongoing SS, 'Toil', but can be read as a standalone OS. Since the first two chapters of the SS are pretty depressing and angsty, many wouldn't want to read through it to get to the AnShi bits. I have tried to infuse some humour into this oneshot. Hope my efforts aren't totally in vain. This is my take on the emotional conflict within Shivaay's head when he falls in love.
Do read and review! đ
Quick background story so that this OS makes better sense: Shivaay is a chronic insomniac who has had a bad experience with drug over dose. He is now on the road to recovery.
Warning- This is a REALLY LONG OS, word count: 5000+
DENIAL
Shivaay hated apples. He had developed a strong aversion for the fruit long back as a kid, though he failed to pinpoint the exact cause for his distaste. He rather preferred juicy, citruses that required little effort with peeling, chewing, swallowing etc. However, apples could serve as brilliant venting boards for his frustration. As he sat in the living room, mutilating half a dozen of them, he felt some of the tension bleed out through the knife and into the mangled chunks of fruit on the plate.
He was getting married in a week. Seven days. A hundred and sixty-eight hours. Shivaay could feel some of the off-loaded tension climb up his form as he mentally calculated the minutes and seconds that entailed. Quite a few, he mused.
Meanwhile, Oberoi mansion had transformed into a circus over the last couple of days, with the steady influx of people into the house for no rhyme or reason. When he had held a grand engagement party for himself and Tia, he had nursed the dim hope that all the furore and media frenzy would die down within a few days. Apparently, he was some kind of page three celebrity who couldn't have a moment's peace and Tia, with a modeling career behind her, was the perfect complement in his pictures published in the papers day-in and day-out.
Really, who actually cared about his crappy life and this farce of a wedding, anyway? Given the number of publicists his fiance had hired, he'd be lucky to keep the paparazzi away at least till his firstborn made an appearance and diverted some of the attention.
Shivaay abruptly dropped the knife and stared at the apples he had judiciously butchered over the course of an hour now. How had he gone from counting the days till his marriage to impending fatherhood in one swoop? Shaking his head at all those depressing thoughts, he glanced around the room in a desperate bid for some distraction.
Speaking of desperate, he was reminded of the latest permanent fixture in his house who had burrowed her way into Dadi's good graces within quite a short time. The loud-mouthed, ill-behaved friend of Prinku's had decided to spend the rest of her days within the Oberoi household, or so it seemed to him. Every time he turned around, she'd pop out of thin air, as though conjured by his wayward thoughts, in all her garish red/orange/yellow glory. Little had changed between them over the course of the past four months though. The usual barbs were religiously exchanged on a daily basis.
Arrogant rich brat
Self-centered idiot
Heartless sadist
And yes, his personal favourite, Bagad Billa! Whatever that meant.
At the moment, she was relaying some great dramatic tale of adventure, from personal experience probably, to an enthralled audience of Rudra, Priyanka and Dadi. Shivaay's mother wasn't terribly impressed though and sat beside Dadi with the usual snooty air about her.
Shivaay smiled fondly, recollecting the days his mother had spent tending him, following the sleeping pill fiasco. She had stoically nursed him back to health, force-feeding him when he decided to skip meals and making a complete nuisance of herself whenever he talked about work. She had been the consummate mother hen for two whole weeks, while he silently pondered her new caring attitude. Mothers, it seemed, were attuned to the miseries of their young and even an indifferent specimen like Pinky had to give into instincts at some point in time. Shivaay was secretly pleased to be privy to her motherly side at the lowest time of his life.
"Oh my Mata!" he heard her exclaim, while the others around her laughed uproariously.
She wasn't perfect, he knew. She could be deliberately cruel, but she loved him and that was enough.
Sometime during the laughter fest, the stuck-up bint in orange, Annika, caught his eye and stared. Every time he entered a room, he could easily detect her presence in his peripheral vision, like an incessant pest who wouldn't leave him alone. He was inadvertently drawn to her and could scarcely go a day without getting into a shouting match or two. It was almost perverse, the way he tried to catch her attention, get her to scream and at times make her cry. He had yet to see tears, but he wouldn't give up until he did. Victory would be sweet, indeed.
At times, like right now, they would lock eyes and valiantly hold a contest across the room, each willing the other to blink. She always won, and raised an eyebrow in challenge. Sometimes, she'd look away and blush, while dark hair framed her mischievous smile. Once she had shaken her head sadly and turned away, walking a couple of steps only to look back and shake her head some more.
Shivaay knew their interactions were a part of his daily routine and her measured response was only a retaliation to his incessant baiting. It was all quite meaningless in the grand scheme of things. But sometimes at night, alone in his bed, he would recollect her smile, her flushed face, her untamed hair, her raised eyebrows and her head-shake and commit them to memory. On a few of the sleepless nights, since his treatment, he would run those images through his mind, trying to decode the intent behind each of those gestures. He would obsessively recount her words, striving to understand the undertones that were implied. He could never tell when she was serious and when she wasn't. And when all those images jumbled into a mass of bright colour, he would feel his eyes drifting shut.
She was supposed to be an expert cook, but over the course of the last few days, he had seen her at every damn place in the house, except the kitchen. Why would she visit his house everyday, if not to catch a glimpse of him? Why would she cross paths with him, if she didn't care for him? Why would she try to catch his gaze across a room and engage in a staring match, if she didn't feel anything?
Maybe she had a crush on him. Maybe...maybe she had even fallen in love with him.
Arghh! He really had no clue what to think. Where was Om when you needed him?
Annika was once again engrossed in conversation with Rudra and Dadi, while Prinku smiled at her friend. That insolent woman had dismissed him after the daily quota of confusing stares was over. First she'd look at him with those big, bewitching eyes and when he returned the favour, ignore him for the rest of the day! She was getting on his last bloody nerve! How dare she fall in love with him? He was her tormentor, for God's sake, and here she was, passing him secret smiles.
Shivaay was so focused on his inner tirade that he paid little heed to the person who sat down before him.
He was getting married in a week and the infuriating woman had the utter gall to fall in love with him? Granted, he was good-looking, rich and courteous, but had she no shame? Eyeing him all the damn time like an effing tourist at a museum. What was with all those secretive smiles, anyway? Couldn't she tie up her wavy hair like a decent person? How could she just prance around, letting all that dark hair trail behind her? He was sure some of it had gotten into his mouth the last time they had been within touching distance.
Not that he had been keeping count, of course.
"Hmm," came a low hum and Shivaay looked up startled at the woman in front of him.
"Badi Maa," he smiled, feeling a sense of calm engulf him. He was careful to keep his eyes averted from the orange blob in the background. However, it took too much effort to rein in his reflexes.
Jhanvi stared at her nephew shrewdly. He had been acting quite weird for the past couple of days. What she had initially perceived as wedding jitters, seemed to have breached a foreign territory with all those evident signs of frustration Shivaay chose to display in public. He was an intensely private person, like her Om, and for him to make a spectacle of his aggravation was quite new. Even Pinky had noticed and asked her if she knew what was going on.
Something was terribly wrong here.
"Spare the last two apples, won't you," Jhanvi began in a conciliatory tone, drawing the knife away from his fingers.
Shivaay chuckled and put away the plate, wiping his fingers on a wad of tissue.
"Where's Om? I have been looking for him since morning," he complained, while switching glances between Jhanvi and something behind her chair.
"He's gone to meet the curator of the gallery at Juhu. His exhibition is two days after your wedding. I thought he had told you," she replied, raising a questioning eyebrow.
"Yeah, he told me last night" Shivaay muttered distractedly, "must have slipped my mind."
Jhanvi could feel him bursting with curiosity and utterly distracted. With the way he was wringing his hands, she was fairly certain that he had wanted to share something with Omkara.
"What is it?" she asked pointblank. With Shivaay, it was no use beating about the bush. He preferred to talk directly without inane formalities.
"Huh?"
"You have been agitated since morning. Something on your mind?" Jhanvi enquired, opting for a mild approach to broach the subject.
Shivaay's piercing blue eyes shifted to the same spot behind her, but he was quick enough to look back at her to avoid suspicion.
"I-," he cleared his throat and spoke after a while, staring at the plate of ruined apples. "I am thinking about a friend."
A friend? Jhanvi highly doubted that but decided to play along.
"A friend?"
"Um, yes. He is kind of in a...in a predicament," he blurted out.
"A predicament?"
Shivaay looked up at her for signs of mockery, but found none. She had the same understanding look like her elder son, which soothed his frayed nerves a bit.
"Yes. Actually it's all hypothetical, of course," he rushed to assure her.
"Of course," Jhanvi agreed, nodding her head patiently.
"There's a girl. A woman, I think," he continued tersely.
"A woman?"
He frowned at the continued repetition. He realized Rudra had inherited the parrot streak from his mother. A moment later, he had the epiphany of how Jhanvi was essentially a package deal with disconcerting traits of both her sons. Great, it was like dealing with both of them at once.
"Why are you repeating my words?" Shivaay asked exasperated, focusing all his attention on her for the first time during the conversation.
Jhanvi hid her surprise at being called out. She had had this habit for years, which Tej had mercilessly teased her about when they had first met in college.
Tej
Shaking her head at the unwanted memories of her husband, Jhanvi held out a hand for Shivaay to grasp. Om was quite tactile when it came to sharing his inner turmoil, which he rarely ever did with her. Maybe Shivaay could do with a bit of the same.
She held one of his hands in both of hers. He let her do as she wished.
"I am just trying to get the facts right. Anyway, so this hypothetical woman?" Jhanvi prompted, looking at him in all seriousness.
"No, the woman isn't hypothetical. The situation...the situation is."
"Oh..okay," she nodded.
"The thing is I..er..my friend," Shivaay said, "is being stalked by a woman."
"Stalked by a-"
At Shivaay's raised eyebrows, she chuckled and corrected herself.
"Right. So your male friend is being stalked by a woman. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Is this hypothetical?"
"Er...no. The stalking is for real."
"Okay, so is the woman older than him?"
"NO!" Shivaay squawked, "I mean, no. She's younger than him."
"Hmm," Jhanvi pondered the possibilities.
"And he thinks she's in love with him," Shivaay grudgingly voiced his concern.
His aunt was quiet for a while as she seemed to be deep in thought. In the meantime, he looked behind her to catch a glimpse of Annika leaning down to talk to Dadi. All he could see now was the maddening hair, shaking as she laughed at something Rudra said. This woman was impossible. She was forever cracking up at all the lame comments and jokes, as if his family was a gang of clowns.
On second thought, she'd fit right in.
"So, this woman," Jhanvi brought him back to the heart-to-heart they were engaged in. "Has she confessed her love?"
"No. But she's always staring at him, smiling for no reason and...and waving her hair in his face."
Jhanvi stared at him incredulously. What kind of mad woman smiled for no reason and waved her hair in other people's face?
"Really?" she asked, just to be sure.
"Yes! And the hair has also gotten into his mouth at times."
Jhanvi scrunched her nose in disgust. Putting hair into another's mouth? What kind of skewed time-frame was she living in? She could see the same look of disgust mirrored on Shivaay's face.
"And he told you all this?" she just was fairly disturbed by the turn the conversation was taking.
"Uh. Yeah, he mentioned it in passing, I guess."
At Jhanvi doubtful look, he nodded his head and rushed on, "He really did. We are very close."
She decided it was best not to dig too deep and just go along with whatever tale Shivaay chose to spin.
"Well then, is he in love with her?"
Shivaay goggled at her as if she had grown an extra head.
"Of course not!" he almost screamed, "He's not that kind of guy and she's not his type, anyway."
"Oh. Is she ugly?"
"Huh?"
"Is she ugly? You know, bad to look at?"
"Um, no. She's okay."
"Which means she's quite good-looking," Jhanvi probbed, enjoying the sudden discomfort in Shivaay's demeanour.
"Uh. Yeah, maybe," he mumbled.
"Which is it, Billu? She's either good-looking or ugly?"
"She is not bad to look at. Yeah, maybe a bit pretty," he mumbled, glancing at something behind her for the hundredth time, perhaps.
"Okay. So, a pretty woman has been stalking your friend, smiling at him, waving her hair etc. but has not confessed her love or given any other indication of her interest in him. Also, she's not his type. Did I get it all?"
"Yes. Oh...and um...they had a moment in the pool. Sort of," he admitted, as sudden flashes of a certain female standing drenched in his room invaded his mind.
"A moment? A romantic moment, you mean?" Jhanvi asked, discreetly looking behind her at the small gathering that kept distracting Shivaay.
He fiddled with the cuff-link of the hand she had taken captive.
"It wasn't romantic, per se," he confessed, staring at his wrist, "He pushed her into the pool in anger and jumped in after her. He wanted her to apologize for something she had said. He twisted her hand, she scratched his wrist and they...they...had a moment. It was all anger, really! But I...I mean he thinks there was something else. Oh, and she also bit his hand once when they were arguing."
Jhanvi was getting confused with each passing second. Billu had no close friends who would share such intimate details of their love life with him. None that she knew of. Moreover, he wouldn't give two hoots about the personal problems of those who weren't his immediate family. His closest confidant was Om, who was too involved in art to focus on the opposite sex at the moment.With all the fretting she had seen over the last ten minutes, she was almost certain that this mysterious friend was Shivaay himself.
But then, who was the girl? Not Tia, obviously.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone walking towards the kitchen. Jhanvi glanced up to see Annika rounding the corner and disappearing from the room. Sighing she turned back to focus on Billu's problem, only to have her jaw drop in shock.
Shivaay was straining his neck to catch a glimpse of the girl who had just left the hall.
Annika?!
Jhanvi felt her mind race a mile a minute as realization dawned.
Annika was in love with Shivvay? Huh? But how could that be? The girl was helping them prepare for his wedding. She was always ready to help and went about her chores with a smile. She hadn't shown any indication of being interested in Shivaay in that way, forget being in love. Last time Jhanvi checked, Billu and the girl were busy fighting like cats and dogs. So if she hadn't caught any romantic vibes from Annika, that meant the one in love was actually-
Shivaay?
No! He was going to get married within the week. How could he fall for another girl at this critical juncture? As far as she knew, he hated Annika and was quite upfront about his negative feelings. But then, that would surely explain his sudden anxiety and distress.
And the vicious temper, she added mentally, looking at the plate of apple corpses beside him.
Or maybe she was reading too much into this. She had to be absolutely sure, before she decided to meddle.
"I think your friend is in denial," Jhanvi said, leaning back in the chair and letting go of his hand.
"Denial?"
"Yes," she replied, playing it cool and watching his face intently, "I think he may be the one who has developed feelings for the girl, but is too scared to acknowledge them. So, he's trying to project them onto her to justify his mindset."
Shivaay stared at his aunt in wonder. Project his feelings onto the girl? What was she even talking about?
When he continued to gape at her, Jhanvi tried to approach the entire thing from a new angle.
"Really, Billu. Some men are known to do that, you know. They walk around with nary a care in the world and an over-inflated ego to boot," she said, trying to suppress her smile, "but when it comes to matters of the heart, they are just cowardly pussycats."
She could almost taste his affront at the veiled insult. Jhanvi rubbed her hands in glee. This was just too easy!
"Pussyca-"
"But my Om is not like that at all," she smirked, ignoring his interruption. "I think he needs a sweet, smart girl for himself. I mean he's gone through so much already. The least he deserves is happiness."
Shivaay had a bewildered frown on his face. When had Om come into the picture? He had been talking about himself, but Badi Maa was going off on a tangent now.
"You are already getting married, Billu," Jhanvi reminded him, watching his expression carefully, "I think even Om should start thinking of doing the same."
He was sufficiently distracted by Omkara's marriage talk to involve himself in the conversation once again.
"Om has a girlfriend?" he asked, smiling inwardly at this new piece of information.
"No," Jhanvi laughed, "If left to his own devices, he'd wed one of his own sculptures, and we can't have that, can we?"
"No," Shivaay grinned, "We can't. So? Has someone caught your eye?"
Now that he thought about it, he was genuinely interested in this 'Get Om Married' scheme that was shaping up between him and Badi Maa.
"Yes," Jhanvi replied mysteriously, watching him like a hawk. "I think the girl I have chosen would be perfect for him. Their personalities complement each other quite well. In fact, I think they are friends already."
"Really?" Shivaay mused.
Om had a female friend and he had no clue who she was? He racked his brains for any interaction with his brother that may have implied his interest in some girl, but came up with a blank.
"Who's she?" he asked, restless with curiosity.
Oh how he would tease Om! He'd get him back for all the pranks and leg-pulling he had subjected Shivaay to, ganging up with Rudra all the time. It was payback time!
"You already know her," Jhanvi continued in an amused tone, "She's been here for days now and I think she's best suited for Om. She's Prinku's friend and Mummyji likes her as well."
The smile was wiped off Shivaay's face as he stared at Jhanvi with mounting dread.
"Annika, of course!" she exclaimed, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
He could feel a keening noise fill his ears as he saw red. Omkara and...and Annika? But-
He had a quick flashback of all the times he had seen both of them together.
Om asking him to give her a lift when she was stranded in the rain. Annika making parathas for Rudra and Om. Om leaning over Rudra to pull her hair. Rudra calling her Didi and clicking selfies with her as she half leaned on Om. Om smiling at her when she mocked Shivaay behind his back. Om holding her hand when she sprained her ankle. Annika laughing with Om and complimenting his hair.
Shivaay stood up abruptly, almost toppling his chair. He ran an angry hand through his hair to get his emotions under control. Omkara had never shown any affinity to be close to her. It was just a few circumstances that pushed them together. Surely she didn't think of Om like that. She wouldn't...she couldn't!
But what did he know. He was a bundle of nerves who was clueless about his own intentions. How would he know who she loved and who she...didn't?
"Does she love Om?" he asked softly, trying to keep the simmering rage at bay.
Jhanvi felt like clapping her hands. She was good at this! She had hit the bull's eye in Shivaay's case. He was in love and she couldn't be happier. He had had his fair share of trauma throughout his life and these last few months had been especially harrowing. When she had seen him lying on that hospital bed last year, she had felt herself break. She had lost her breath, thinking of the fateful day when her Om had gone through something similar.
She wouldn't stand by and let Shivaay spoil his future because he was oblivious to the truth. Tia was a disastrous choice and he would realize this sooner or later. Better early than late, she thought.
Jhanvi hadn't wanted to drag Om's name into the mess, but it was the only thing that popped up in her head and desperate times called for desperate measures. If she hadn't intervened, Billu would have chosen to bury his feelings under a mountain of hatred and resentment as he usually did.
Not anymore.
"Hmm? Oh no. She doesn't love him and neither does he love her," Jhanvi answered, watching as some of the stiffness left his shoulders. "But they get on well and I think that is enough to get a marriage to work."
"How can you say that, Badi Maa?" Shivaay almost growled, "If Om doesn't even love her, he won't marry her."
"I'll talk to him, don't worry. I know you can't stand the girl, but she is really sweet and everyone at home adores her already."
"She's not sweet. She's bloody manipulative, is what she is! And yeah, everyone adores her," he chuckled harshly, "For example, Om's father."
Jhanvi was least bothered by his tantrum. She had seen him grow up and knew him quite well, inside out.
"Billu, don't worry. I'll talk to Mummyji and she'll convince Tej. Not a problem at all."
Shivaay felt panic seize his senses.
"She's...poor. She is a low-class g...gold-digger," he tried desperately to dissuade her from pursuing the matter further.
"There's no need to be abusive, Shivaay," she sniffed, "And Omkara couldn't care less about her social standing. He's above such trivialities."
He felt a his heart clench. How had a normal conversation taken such a drastic turn? How could Badi Maa just choose her for Om? How could they just ignore how he felt about the entire issue?
"What about her feelings then?" he whispered, "What if she likes someone else?"
Jhanvi tried hard to stop an unholy grin from taking over her lips.
"Oh," she muttered, "Is there a man in her life already? I didn't know that."
"There isn't anyone, I think," Shivaay said, choosing to tread carefully, "But what if she doesn't like him? What if he's just a friend to her?"
"Well, if she doesn't have a boyfriend and isn't in love with anyone, she can at least consider his proposal. What's the harm in asking her once? Maybe she secretly likes him."
"No she doesn't," Shivaay declared with conviction.
"How do you know? Has she told you?"
Jhanvi was enjoying this too much
"She just doesn't. I know," he remarked with the same air of confidence.
"But how can you be so sure?"
"I just am."
"Maybe you are wrong, Billu."
"I am not."
"How do you know?"
"I know because she likes-" he bit his tongue before the words could escape him.
Shivaay glared at Jhanvi for putting him through such an emotional rollercoaster. It wasn't even midday yet. Before he could give her a piece of his mind, they were interrupted.
"Hey Mom. Hey Shivaay! What's up?"
He watched in alarm as Om walked up to them and sat down on the arm of the chair his mother was leaning on. He put a hand around her shoulders and bent down to press a quick kiss on her temple.
"Who likes who?" Om asked, looking at the plate of apples with trepidation.
He chanced a glance at his elder brother, only to be taken aback by the lethal glare he aimed Om's way.
"Woah, Shivaay! What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Om," his mother replied, smiling sweetly, "We were just discussing your marriage prospects."
Om rolled his eyes as he shook his head at his mother's antics.
"Oh god, Mom! Don't tell me you've found another bimbo as my future wife. And I am not going on a blind date, just so you know," he smiled, winking at Shivaay who continued to glare at him and clench his fists.
Om raised his eyebrows in confusion.
"What's wrong with him?" he asked his mother softly, inclining his head to the seething man standing before them.
Jhanvi ignored his question and continued smiling. Frankly both of them were scaring him.
"Om, this girl isn't a bimbo, and she's perfect for you. Right, Billu?"
Shivaay did not speak.
Getting increasingly uncomfortable, Om stared at his mother. She had the same scheming look in her eyes like Rudra when he was planning something.
What had she done now?
"Oh!" he said instead, watching his brother carefully, "Who's that?"
"No one," Shivaay growled, glaring at both mother and son now.
"Huh?"
"She's no one." Shivaay repeated as though trying to convince himself.
"Well actually-" Jhanvi began, only to be cut short by Shivaay once again.
"She's. No. One." he enunciated with a poker face.
Before either of them could question him some more, Shivaay turned around and stormed to the main door.
"Billu," Jhanvi called cheerfully, crossing her arms in victory, "Tell your friend to confront the woman and get her to confess her feelings. Or," she paused for dramatic effect, "he could look within himself to know the truth and let her know how he feels."
Shivaay looked at his aunt incredulously.
"And by the way," Jhanvi intoned, biting into an apple that had not met the ill-fate of its companions, "it's better to discuss your problems with your Badi Maa directly. These oblique references to a non-existent friend can get tiresome, if you catch my drift."
She winked at Shivaay as he turned and walked out into the sun, running a hand through his hair in wonder.
Om looked between his mother and Shivaay trying to understand what had just happened. When he failed to make head or tail of his mother's happy mood, he gave up and acknowledged that his family was an insane bunch.
He picked up the only remaining apple on the plate and bit into the savoury sweetness. He loved apples. So very less complicated than his dysfunctional family any day.
If anyone wishes to read the story in its totality, link to my ongoing SS:
https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/ishqbaaaz/4665349/anshi-ss-toil-epilogue-part-2-1-ishkara-pg-26
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