IshVeer FF : La Douleur Exquise| Important Announcement (Page 51)

Author's Note: Hi, all! Wondering why this FF from this account? Yeah, there's been a change in the program and for now, I'm going to continue it from here only. All the future chapters will be posted on this thread.

The Warning: The FF is dark and might not be suitable for everyone's taste, so please be careful before reading this though there will be warnings for the chapters too whenever there is a darker chapter.

And there is a minor change made in the Chapter 3. The last line of the chapter is changed slightly. Nothing much. :)

La Douleur Exquise

La Douleur Exquise- Heart wrenching pain of loving someone you cannot have.

How many times it happens we fall in love with the person who doesn't reciprocate our feelings back and we are left within a world of our own, helpless and nearly lifeless? As much romantic and poetic this sounds, the anguish one goes through is brutal. This is way more common in the real world than we dare to realize. And this is one of the causes the warning is there already.

PS. Sadists are all welcome already. ;)

Chapter index:

Teaser

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Important Announcement

Teaser

Silence adorned the huge chambers, periodically broken by the unfurling snowy drapes as the cool breeze simpered its way through the open windows.

The quiet atmosphere was suddenly torn apart by a loud snap!

The huge double doors opened and in stepped a man dressed in a white dapper suit. The tightly stretched suit on his shoulders gave an inkling of his lean but muscular frame also giving an impression of a lethal predator which moved with a Panther-like grace.

A step at his own rhythm, he stalked to the middle of the room where stood the only object excluding him in the otherwise empty room. Without any speck of hesitation he pulled down the cloth covering the structure.

White met his glinting eyes. He smiled.

"You don't understand," she burst out pulling herself free from the hands trying to steer her out of the office. She took a step forward, staggering on her feet, eyes red and swollen, hairs in disarray.

"Madam, plea-"

"Enough is enough! Don't bother spitting those slimy laws and annexure. I don't care." She took a gulp of air, trying and failing to keep her tears at bay. She looked around at the people in front of her. The very people who had promised to stand by her father from the very start to the end.

Promises they had made, more fake never existed.

"Today, when he is unable to act to protect himself, to defend his rights, you all are trying to shift all the blame to my father and are trying to get out scot free. Liars, that's what you all are. COWARDS! CHEATS!"

A man in the very back sighed. "It is only with due respect to your father, that we are tolerating your silly tantrums. But I do believe the patience limit has been breached. Whatever you want to prove, go do it in the court. But till then...SECURITY! Take her away!"

Immediately hard hands clasped her upper arms and dragged her out to the exit of the office. She stumbled out and fell to the ground as she was pushed out none too gently.

The gravel met her mouth as she stayed there lying limply.

His fingers danced across the keys. The sounds increased in tempo rising higher and higher till his fingers were a literal blur.

The tone it wove was dark and heavy, a piece definitely not meant for entertainment.

It spoke of betrayal, of hatred and painted a tale of unmatched woe. Amidst all a lighter tone followed the darker one, speaking of a need, a longing so fierce that even heavens would burn in tandem.

He slammed his left hand on the chords and his right hand started alternately pressing two patterns. And all of a sudden he stopped.

Footsteps stopped behind him.

"It has begun."

His fingers ghosted over the keys.

"What about her?" he spoke softly.

Another man in dressed in black, in direct contrast to the former, placed himself right in front of him.

"She is on the way. Very soon she will be right where you wanted her to be."

The pianist slowly looked up at him and smirked.

"Good work, Puneet."

For some reason Puneet suddenly felt that this was all too calm, the calm right before a storm.

--Niki

Well, here comes the beginning!

Hello, everyone! As promised, here comes the Prologue.

Prologue: The Beginning

It was the break of the dawn in early spring, when he sat on his ever present bench, basking in the nature at its best. The cool breeze gently caressed his weathered face like a mother kissing her child.

A lot had changed, he reflected as he stared at the newly formed buds dancing in the breeze, a joy unknown to men.

His joints ached at the continued pressure of his posture. There had been a time he couldn't sit for a moment calmly. So restless was he that even his best friend used to call him Cyclone.

His best friend!

Immediately a barrage of memories greeted him, bringing with them their own share of feelings.

They were so fresh and clear that he pondered on the well accepted notion that old age dulls the memories, for never had he forgotten any that was connected to him; his best friend, brother and guide.

"Grandpa!" The shout broke him from his train of thought. Relaxing, he turned his head only to be met by a pouty face glaring at him.

A tremendous wave of love and care for the small child filled in him. His littlest grand-child, named after one of those who had left a lasting impact on his life.

"Patience, Ishaani, Grandpa is thinking."

"Come on, Grandpa, you promised me a story," Ishaani whined and aimed her puppy eyes at him.

He sighed, a slave to her wishes.

"Fine, fine," he said relenting as usual, "what do you want to hear?"

"Prince and Princess," the little child erupted, "the Prince saves the Princess from the dragon and-"

"Ishhh, you always listen to that. Come let me tell you a different one."

The child pouted adorably. "But I want the Prince to save the Princess."

"Hmmm." He pretended to think hard, while his granddaughter sulked at not getting her wish. Suddenly an idea came to him.

"Fine I will tell you one," he said as her face lightened up, "but it would be different."

The child looked torn but finally she accepted. "But the Prince has to save the Princess."

He laughed aloud, mirth bubbling into a joyous facet.

"Definitely, little one, the Prince would definitely save his Princess." For in her lived his life, remained unsaid.

He took his own sweet time arranging and re-arranging his thoughts and memories, of a past long left behind. A past of pain and loss, a past that made him what he was today.

As the memories rushed through him, those old feelings too erupted in him as he delved deeper into them. The wounds still raw, grated against his sense.

A sharp poke on his sides brought him back to the present where his granddaughter stared at him expectantly, her tongue jutting out in curiosity.

"What happened, Grandpa?"

"Nothing, child, nothing," he gulped hard, "just old memories." He shook his head to clear his thoughts and began.

"Not always the first meeting of the Prince and the Princess is normal. At times even the Princess cannot recognize the Prince and that is exactly what happened to them." If only she had, perhaps things would have been different today.

"Then? What happened then? How did the Princess marry the Prince? And dragon?"she asked excitedly.

He gave a smile. "The Prince and the Princess were very different. And so their story is different too. Why it all started from the mansion." Memories of a different time flitted in his mind. The plotting, planning, the games, the manipulations.

"Mansion?"

"Yes," he turned to her, "it all started when the Princess's mansion was to be sold."

--Niki

Hi, all! Here's the next chapter.

Chapter 1: Lost

Immediately hard hands clasped her upper arms and dragged her out to the exit of the office. She stumbled out and fell to the ground as she was pushed out none too gently.

The gravel met her mouth as she stayed there lying limply.

She came to her senses in a while as her feet staggered in a rude attempt to stand up on her feet. Grief grappled her heart tightly as her helplessly reproachful eyes wandered one more time towards the tall building from where she had so mercilessly been thrown away. She gulped for air and finally stood up, wiping her generously falling tears.

Her vision was blurred by the constant gushing of tears and her heart felt heavy. She wiped the drops of tears away one last time and made her way towards the highway, the howling voices of the bustling vehicles engendered her vicious calamity. She walked slowly and silently while her thoughts returned back to the day Mr. Raghav Saxena, her father's trustworthy lawyer as well as a close friend, had turned up with the most saddening news in the history of the Parekh family.

"I'm sorry," he had said, looking at her mournfully, "but it's inevitable, and we cannot save the Parekh Mansion anymore."

There were murmurs and gasps of shock and disconsolation from the family members and ashen faces gaped at the lawyer helplessly. Baa had burst into countless fits of tears, clamping herself on the wall she stood nearby and pressing her hands tightly on the shoulder of her son who sat there as stupefied as everyone else.

"But there can be something for sure?" she had said, despair trickling through her eyes.

The lawyer shook his large head. "I'm sorry, Baa. But we have tried our best."

Baa had pleaded him for the next many minutes but it had gone unheard by him.

"Ishani, can't you do anything more? Anything?" Baa had asked her desperately but as she had lowered her head, Baa had gained the idea that truly it was the end. The little pittance left in their accounts could not help them anymore when the battle was against the giants of the Dalal Street.

Ishani sobbed as a car passing by snapped her out of her thoughts and she realized she was somewhere near Marine Drive, for amongst the grisly smell of the vehicles on the highway, a tender scent of salty sea reached her nostrils. It had been nearly half an hour since she last lost herself and she had not yet found her way out.

Her thoughts were abruptly daunted by the memory of one person. She quickly dialed the mobile number as she cursed herself for having forgotten his name when he was the only one who could help her.

"Hello," the voice of a woman from another side spoke.

"Hello," Ishani started nervously. "Can I talk to Chirag Mehta?"

"He's busy in a meeting," the woman answered in a professional tone.

"Can you please inform him it's Ishani Parekh wanting to contact him?"

"I'm sorry. Ma'am, but he has given us special orders not to disturb him for the next few hours."

Ishani could hear a quiet laugher from the other side, but wondered if it was her own mind playing tricks with her.

"How long do you suppose it will take him?"

"I can't say anything."

The morning had turned into noon and noon into the evening but Ishani could not muster courage to face her family after her final attempt had been futile and she could only answer them what Mr. Raghav had said. She had spent her entire day pondering over the events of the next day and how they were to affect the rest of her life. She saw the sun go down, its golden ripples spreading before her eyes. She sat on a bench in the garden in front of the office where once stood her father's business and workers equipped the entire place but now it had been evacuated and loneliness wound itself about it languidly.

A clinking sound broke her thoughts' sequence and she was back in reality. Her phone rang next to her and on picking up a familiar voice spoke.

"Hey, babes!"

"Chirag!" Ishani exclaimed, as though she was suddenly bestowed with all the hopes in the world. "Where have you been?"

"I'm so sorry, Ishani," Chirag said. "I was busy with some important clients. How is everything going on?"

"It's tomorrow, you know that," Ishani said gravely. "Bidding will start at 11.30 in the morning."

Chirag gasped but fell silent. "I'm so sorry," he said at length. "I tried my best."

"I know- I know, Chirag," Ishani said hurriedly, wiping her tears. She was always fearful he would misunderstand her.

"Do you want to try one last time, Ishani? If I ask you to see someone who might help you through it?"

Ishani nodded. "Yes, yes!"

"Well, I have a friend, Nikhil Dixit. He was doing his internship in law in Boston when I was there. He has returned 2 weeks ago. I'm sure he will help you as he showed his interest in your father's case as soon as he returned. Should I come over there to drop you at his office?"

Ishani's face was lightened up with a hope that seemed impossible to attain until a few minutes ago. "No, no. Just give me his address, and I myself will see him," Ishani said excitedly.

"Alright. I will text that to you right away and inform him you are coming there in an hour," Chirag said.

"Thank you," Ishani said, and before she could disconnect the call, she heard Chirag say "I love you" on the phone. "I love you, too," she replied softly, and smiled.

"May I come in?" Ishani said as she stood on the entrance of Mr. Nikhil's office.

"Come in," he said, his eyes fixed on a file in his hands.

Ishani nervously walked upto him. "Mr. Nikhil Dixit, I- I was informed by Chirag Mehta about you... Actually, I'm Ishani Parekh and I need your help."

"You are Ishani Parekh?" the lawyer said, squinting his eyes as if remembering something. Ishani nodded. "Please sit."

"I think you understand the case and cause I'm here for," Ishani said, as she sat on the chair before him, her hands on the desk. "Auction of the Parekh Mansion is tomorrow, and I want to know if we can do anything... just anything? You're the last hope I'm relying on."

The lawyer raised his eyebrows and then rested them back. He sighed. "Look, Miss Parekh. It's one case I will never take for my own sanity as well as reputation as a newcomer in this field. Forget me; no one with the tiniest of the common sense is ever going to fight this already lost case for you."

"But..."

"Don't you realize the loan your company has had to pay as well as the legal actions that are to be taken against it? Your company's been exploiting the rights of the Dalal Streets since last 15 months. No one is ever going to bother with this. Let it go."

"No, but, listen to me first..." Ishani began was cut short by him again.

"No, buts, Miss Ishani. I hope I have made myself and my reasons clear already. You may leave now."

"What on earth is wrong with you?" Ishani retorted, standing up. "Have you really tried reading the case in the first place? Have you really bothered with it formally to pass your damn judgments? Or you're one of those geniuses that keep all the knowledge of the whole world beforehand and when the time comes they rub it over others' faces so that they can pretend to be smarter than they are?"

"You're crossing your limits. It's not your father's office. Get the hell out of here!" the lawyer screeched, depravity clearly visible on his face. "You can't force me to take a case and make me dance on your fingers. Get out, or there are better ways to make you do that." The colour of the lawyer's eyes changed and a grim smile passed through his lips, as he took a step closer to Ishani. Ishani moved backward, her feet automatically leading her out of the room.

It was futile once again. She indeed couldn't force anyone to fight a case for them.

"That's like a good boy." The back door of the office cabin opened gently and a man in black emerged out of it. "I'm proud of you, Nikhil. You acted well, and if it was in my own hands, I would have awarded you with an Academy Award!"

Nikhil turned to look at the man and smiled. "I did as you asked me to," he said grimly.

"I have your reward ready." The man handed him over a white packet.

Nikhil fidgeted the packet in his hands as though to make sure it had what he was promised with. "I assume it's not the complete amount." He sharply looked at the man.

"No need to worry about that," the man laughed lightly, clearly trying to keep his temper composed that he was losing now. "You will have your overdue payment as soon as the work is finished."

Nikhil's features softened a bit. "I hope it will not take longer."

"Shoot me in my head if it does."

The night grew deeper, diamond like stars gleaming brilliantly in the canvas of the black sky. Her hopes had been reduced to the ashes, while the day all the priceless things of her life will be relinquished drew enormously nearer. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest at the sight of her flat that had her room's lights left alight even now. Her mother wouldn't have slept yet, she felt. Ishani wiped her tears and moved ahead when her eyes fell on an anxious looking Prateek who just had exited the flat.

"Prateek," she cried out. He turned back, and at her sight, he ran swiftly towards her.

"Ishani," Prateek said breathlessly, "where had you been? Falguni Mami was so worried about you!"

Ishani smiled sadly, and looked away.

"Ishani, we understand. We understand everything you have done for us. Now, come on, let's go."

Ishani followed Prateek to the flat. He lightly opened door and let her in. "I'll get you something to eat."

"Where's Maa?"

"She's asleep in her room."

Ishani nodded. "I'll be back in a while," she said and left to see her mother but a harsh voice made her halt in her tracks.

"Where have you been the whole day?" Ishani saw Baa standing behind her, her tyrant eyes glaring through her wrinkled face. Ishani cowered lightly.

"B-Baa, I-I had been to see- if- if someone could help us."

"What did you find?"

Ishani looked down, fidgeting the border of her dupatta.

"I knew it! You're as useless as your mother that's sucking our blood," Baa chastised. "Neither of you have done anything when this family needed you the most and nor in the past when my son-"

"Baa, please," Ishani interrupted. "It isn't Maa's fault. What happened in the past couldn't have been avoided."

"You want to say it's our fault? My family that's been feeding you both is wrong?" Baa widened her eyes in exasperation.

"No, I don't mean it. Maa couldn't have been there on time and-"

"Yes, she needed to look after her own life, didn't she?"

"What is happening here?" Falguni said, coming out of her room, and glaring at Baa.

"Here comes your mother!" Baa jeered at Ishani.

"Ishani, come," Falguni said, ignoring Baa and took Ishani's hand in hers when her expressions turned to those of shock. "What is this?"

Ishani retreated her hand back and smiled at her mother. "It's- It's just a bruise. It'll be fine," Ishani said, trying to sound convincing but failed. Tiresome day had cost more than just courage and sanity.

"It's bleeding, Ishani," Falguni said and applied the antiseptic on the wound that now contained the traces of the dried out blood. "It'll be fine now." Falguni smiled.

"Thank you," Ishani said. "I want to sleep." She put her head in her mother's lap, while Falguni caressed her daughter's head softly, tucking the strands of her hair back in place.

In a few minutes, Ishani felt her mother leaving her as she closed her tightly so that she would know of her sleeplessness. Ishani sat up, her eyes gaping aimlessly in the dark room while an old memory tugged at her heart, stronger than any she remembered. Sleep did not come over her and she came to the terrace, the sultry air of September caressed her face and lingered there. Her eyes were closed as a couple of drops of tears escaped her eyes. She couldn't do this anymore. The pretense of being so strong since last 3 years had now ruptured. All she hoped was to be held by someone who would never leave her alone. Without whom the darkness wouldn't look too treacherous and rays of the sun wouldn't sting.

"The alleyway leading to the flat of the Parekhs is covered in darkness. I stand nearby the window she sobs lightly, and prayers are silently sent to the heaven through her tears. She looks up in the sky and it can be seen she expects a miracle to happen. However, she understands it's unlikely and her eyes feel swollen. There are the odds she would never win against. She isn't made to fight the lost, but so much else. If I were her... I would have let it all go she is sacrificing her life for."

Hi, guys! So, here comes the next chapter of this FF, and sincere apologies for the delay. :)

Chapter 2: The King of Dalal Street

Misery is not the slow creeping well of despair everyone makes it out to be. Nor is it is cold, clammy fog of grief and disappointment that novels love to speak of.

No, it was like fire.

It was as if someone had deliberately lit in a tiny spark inside her that had now evolved into an enormous monster of fire and was devouring everything it came upon. The blaze razed, burnt, decimated and sheared off every single positive ray inside her. Her hopes, self-worth, dignity; everything fuelled those flames of misery that landed her deeper into the quicksand pit that was her life.

And nothing she did or was capable of doing could tame the blaze. Thus she burnt.

Time passed in its usual stroke.

Her family life dipped in a pot of immeasurable grief and humiliation, continued in all its distorted glory. The fragile bonds of relations slowly weathered away with repeated attacks on them. Strains became evident, masks evolved all the more; secrets lifted its head and love frayed as respect diminished.

How do you hold a family together determined to divide?

This was a question Ishaani had repeatedly asked herself, since the day the first signs emerged. At first, all had tried and now, she was the only one left trying.

Always the last one!

The bright rays of the morning Sun, did nothing to soothe her unrest, instead they acted as salt to her wounds. The Sun rising meant another day closer to the date when their case would finally reach a decision. Another day also meant the previous day lost in failure.

Her hands gently smoothened out her wet tresses. Being an early riser, she had already readied herself up for another day of hectic travelling, pleading, begging and getting rejected from any assistance on the case. A bitter smile spread on her face as she stared at herself on the mirror. Ishanni and hopelessness were polar opposites once upon a time. Today's state showed how time was a really invincible factor that dominates life. Her dull eyes, enhanced in their exhaustion by the dark circles underneath whispered the truth for the world to see.

Alas, all could see, except for her family.

With a stiff jerk she smoothened out the collar of her Kurti when her hands met the thin golden chain around her neck.

Her hands tightly clasped on it and it was minutes later that she realized it.

She froze.

She clenched her hand and dragged out the chain and the pendent hung upon it from where it lay against her cleavage.

The light caught the pendant in an odd angle. It glimmered brightly for a second and then abruptly descended into darkness.

The chirruping of birds caught her ears and it was only then she realized that her cheeks were wet.

FLASHBACK

"Is it for me?" the young girl asked, awe colouring her voice.

"I don't know...it is for a Princess," the man said pretending to ponder. "Are you a Princess?"

Ishaani immediately dashed into him. "I am Princess, Papa!"

Harshad Parekh laughed loudly. He lifted her and swung her around like in a merry go wheel.

"You are a Princess all right. Papa's Princess."

He put her down and crouched down onto his knees in front of her.

"So, I guess the Princess wants her gift, huh?"

Ishaani bobbed her head repeatedly. She really wanted that gift.

Harshad Parekh smiled and deftly took out a tiny box from his pocket and put it into the eager hands of his daughter. She immediately stared at it in wonder and tried to open it. He watched her trying to figure out the mechanism with an amused air.

"I cannot open it Papa," she pouted.

He reached forward and took back the box. Feeling around it, his fingers met the slight unevenness and pushing it clicked the box open.

A rectangular pendent lay there.

He gently unhooked the golden chain around her neck and slid in the pendent.

"This belonged to my Grandmother. She had told me to give this to the person who matters the most. And you my dear Princess are your Papa's most beloved treasure."

Putting the chain back on her, he looked into her bright eyes that stared at him with love and adoration.

"Always remember Ishaani, you are a Parekh. And we Parekh's are born fighters. Anytime you feel scared..."

"I will come to you," Ishaani interrupted him.

Her father smiled. "And if I am not there?"

Ishaani gave a petulant glare. "You are my Papa. You will always be there."

Harshad Parekh sighed. "If I am on a business trip?"

Without missing a beat she answered, "I will go to Ranveer."

It was with a resigned amused look that the King of Dalal Street stared at his daughter.

"I guess you are right Princess."

He softly patted her and gave her a wide smile.

"So ice-cream?"

FLASHBACK ENDS

The Pendant was back to glimmering brightly again.

A choked sob escaped her mouth.

Silence stifled the room and yet war raged inside her.

How she wished she had let her father complete his words. She was a Parekh and had been fighting as hard as she could but she was tired now. So exhausted and miserable that she could hardly even put on the mask of fake stability in front of her remaining tattered family.

As fate had seen to it, her father was not there to hold her and tell her that everything will be all right soon.

And not even him.

The war inside her suddenly shifted to the background. It was an uncomfortable numbness that spread in her.

Her heartbeat began escalating. The room felt a bit too silent now. She could even hear the sound of her own breathes.

Sweat beads adorned her forehead and her breathing heaved.

Her eyes drifted across the room frantically. Were the walls closing in?

Her breathing deepened.

Her hands started trembling.

She clutched her pendent tightly and tried to get up from the stool to reach the bed. However all of a sudden, she felt dizzy.

The room was closing in on her, the smell of incense sticks clogging her nose. Something was stuck in her throat, making guttural sounds.

The room was spinning now.

And he stood there. Staring at her!

His dark eyes holding the same intense look it always did.

Her eyes, wide and frantic met his. And then darkness claimed her.

The air today bore a splendor in its invisible fibers as it swirled across the town freely as if carrying a message of the arrival of a long lost friend; a melancholy filled rain fell prodigiously in the streets, though by now it had subsided a great deal. Not one, not two, but everyone noticed the change, and many hearts certainly wondered. The wet morning after the rain in September had left the town soggy though its spirit was as exuberant as any other sunny day. The day was cool but those stuck on the roads of Mumbai had a better reason to grumble today at the awful sight of the vehicles lined up as far as their eyes could follow.

"Arrey yaar, what's this holdup? Some Minister is coming or what?"

Jigyasa Mishra sighed in exasperation at her friend's antics. "Don't you read the newspaper, Niki?"

Niki Borah gave her an I-don't-and-you-very-well-know-it look.

Jigyasa huffed. "RV is coming. And don't ask me who he is."

Niki froze. "Wait a second, you mean the King Douche with loads of money? We have been stuck for hours for him? Seriously, why does he need to travel by car like us poor commoners? Can't he hire a plane or something? He is filthy rich."

Jigyasa whirled around. "He did arrive by plane. He is probably going to his office or residence now. And for heaven's sake why would he use a plane. He is in the city already. And what do mean by douche? He is the youngest King of Dalal Street ever. And he is a genius! "

"He is a douche," Niki replied flatly.

"How in your infinite wisdom did you reach that conclusion?"

"All the money Kings are douches and corrupt. See those poli..."

Something hit her head, disturbing her rant. Her eyes fell on the huge bar of chocolate.

"Thank God," Jigyasa murmured as her friend descended into a world of chocolate delusions. Niki loved her food and she loved her sanity and peace and quiet too.

It was at that moment, the sharp whistle rang out. From two and a half hours the road had been blocked by the police for the people. And finally the desired reason was for all to see.

Three Jeep's raced by filled with black suits handling weapons.

Bodyguards, Jigyasa realized.

A grey Ford with tinted glass swiftly crossed next.

And finally the -

"Bugatti Chiron!" Jigyasa murmured. It was classy, fast and gorgeous. Only one person could be in there.

RV.

Another Jeep filled with bodyguards raced by, followed by an Ambulance and three more Jeeps.

As the whirs of the last car died away, another sharp whistle filled the air.

The grunting noise of the blockade being removed rose up accompanied by whirs and roars of engines starting up.

Jigyasa put the key into the ignition and the car stated with a whir.

So, the King of Dalal Street was finally back to India.

A white car with tinted glass smoothly swerved to a stop.

The road was deserted. The Sun took his throne at the peak of the noon and the heat pervaded in waves.

The door to the Shotgun opened and a man stepped out. Dressed in tailored suit pants and a white shirt whose top two buttons were undone, he immediately scrunched his face at the heat.

With a soft click the door on the passenger seat opened and a man got out. He was dressed in a grey three-piece suit in complete contrast to the other man.

"Sir, how are you not boiling in that?"

The second man chanced a glance at the former and gave an amused smirk.

The first man huffed. "Don't tell me you have some procedure of controlling your bodily reactions too. Are you some kind of Alien, sir?"

"Alien, really?" The formally dressed man shook his head and turned to look at the stairs. Without another word he began to swiftly climb them.

"Sir...sir, wait." The other man also followed.

The two men came upon an adorned pavilion where a huge Banyan tree was present. It was laden with bells and red strings tied around it to represent unfulfilled wishes and wants. Behind it was a golden structure with a dome type ceiling.

"Sir, I don't mean to offend you, but we have just landed here. Why did we have to immediately come here? The Temple wasn't running anywhere."

The grey suited man stayed silent. He stared at the Temple with an intensity that was completely out of the place.

"Sir! Sir. RV Sir!"

The hassled tones brought him out of his ponderings.

"Puneet, wait here."

The man called RV made his way towards the Temple. He passed the Banyan Tree and opened his shoes. Leaving them behind, he stepped in.

"Wait here? Wait here! In this blinding stifling heat. Uughh!"

Puneet nearly growled with annoyance and stared around. Everything looked baked, as far he was concerned. The environment looked yellow, the way it does when the Sun rays are piercing and heat suffocating. Dust and dirt flew abundant with the hot breeze gaily swapping stories.

Poetic much? Seriously the heat interfered with his brain.

Puneet sighed. Eight minutes had already passed. What exactly was RV sir doing inside? And he, the poor innocent PA was stuck with his cruel boss in this pinching heat.

Sweat bead littered on his forehead. God only knew how his boss was surviving the three-piece suit when he had already abandoned his the moment they landed in India. His boss was cold blooded. Seriously, he was a cruel cold blooded alien monster determined to rule the earth and make the humans minions to his goal. And he, Puneet the PA was going to be-

"Is this some new type of Yoga?" soft cultured tones pierced through his dreams.

It took a fraction of second. Apparently his glorious ponderings had made him take a whole new pose and once his concentration broke, his feet twisted and-

THUD!

"Oops!" RV stared at him amusedly, his eyes glinting with suppressed mirth.

Puneet scowled.

His wicked boss now simply went past him to Banyan Tree. Puneet's mouth fell open in outrage. He didn't even enquire his health.

RV directly went towards the tree and gently rolled out a red string. Tucking it, he went around the tree and finally tied a knot. Then he took out a small bell from his pocket and hitched it to the string.

He closed his eyes, bowing his head.

A few moments later her took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He turned to look at the sulking Puneet.

"Let's go."

"Ishaani, are you sure?"

The worried tones of her cousin shook her out of her thoughts.

She turned to look at Sharman staring at her with furrowed brows.

"Are you feeling dizzy again?"

Ishaani shook her head. "I am fine, Sharman."

"No, you are not. You fainted today and luckily I was the one who found you. Then you made me swear not to tell anybody else. And now you suddenly want to visit the Temple. What happened Ishaani?"

Ishaani sighed. "Do you trust me, Sharman?"

"What kind of a question is that?" Sharman retorted. "Of course I do."

Ishaani gave him a small smile.

"Then wait here."

It was the early dredges of the era of dusk settling in. Cool breeze swapping about, the cacophonies of worshippers milling about in the Temple, with heavy wishes burdening their hearts.

Ishaani was one of them.

She slowly stepped into the temple. Immediately a sense of peace and serenity enveloped her. She meandered towards the Idol of Goddess Durga and fell to her knees in front of her.

It was as if ages of hopelessness and despair had caught up to her giving her an aura of a person who had gone through thorny circumstances in a short amount of time. It was, as if laying in front of the idol somehow brought her the tiniest bit of respite.

Her mind drifted to the incident in the morning.

She had fainted. And come to consciousness with Sharman sprinkling water on her face.

As always determined to not cause her family additional problems, she made him swear an oath not to tell anyone. She didn't want her mother to worry even more.

But that wasn't the only reason.

These sudden fainting bouts were not new to her. Quite familiar and at times even welcome.

Her doctor had termed them Blackouts. It was a psychological condition when the brain shut down to relieve excessive stress and tension. Her quirk was that it occurred when she would be unable to handle the pain and grief and more often than not, the trigger was him.

Immediately her mouth tasted sour.

This condition had emerged first two and a half years ago. Since then it was her constant companion and no one knew about it. Except herself, her doctor and her father.

With a reluctant push she got up and suddenly came to face the Pandit. Old weathered face with lines of kindness etched in them he smiled at her.

A bland imitation of a smile flitted across her face. The Pandit laid a hand on her head.

"Maa Durga never lets her children go away empty handed. Your wishes will be fulfilled."

Ishaani shrugged. "I had lost that hope long time ago. I only come here to gain some respite."

The Pandit stared at her for some moments and then handed her a red string with. "Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. Reminisce a time you had faith and try again today. May be your belief will be renewed."

It would be a long number of minutes that passed before she made a move. The ball of red string attracted her gaze like a moth to a flame.

She closed her eyes and made her decision.

The Banyan Tree was huge. It was like a world in itself, all the tiny bells glinting and the red strings shimmering in delight. Ishaani joined the group of women gathered together.

"Arrey Beti, you want to tie the bell too. Come here." A woman beckoned her and took her to the little stall that had many bells placed in a heap. Ishaani chose a small golden bell and had her initials engraved.

IP.

Sighing, she tied it to the string and made her way to the group.

She joined them and together tucked the string in one side and started making rounds.

As she walked, her thoughts drifted and for the first time in months she prayed.

Please help me. Please save my home. Please help me. I am tired. Please help me.

Reaching the end of the string, she tied a knot and hitched it on another string. She closed her hands in a prayer and then turned to go when a small clattering sound caught her ears.

Turning back she saw a small silver bell rolling on the ground. It appeared to have fallen from its string.

Immediately she bent to catch it and her fingers closed around it.

She froze.

Her skin began tingling and all of a sudden her heart began to race.

For a moment it was like the whole world had stopped spinning and it was only her conscious. Or perhaps the whole world had moved and she had frozen in time forever.

It felt as if butterflies erupted in her stomach.

Slowly she brought the bell closer to her eyes. She turned it and her fingers felt a small jagged uniformity. There in the base of the bell were two letters engraved.

RV!

--Niki

Hey, guys! So finally we update the next chapter and we know it's quite late. Apologies. :)

Chapter 3: Ghosts of the Past

The morning air whistled through the sultry atmosphere of Mumbai, the downpour having slacked off considerably since the last night that for a while seemed to have frozen the town where it was. The sun peeked quietly from behind the buildings, still veiled under the grey clouds, occasionally letting the light of the pale sun filter through them. Ishani sighed lightly as the building of the court peered across the road after a 2 hours travel from her home.

"Thank you," she said hastily to the rickshaw driver, handing him over the due money, and turned back to face the building. The entire hall, she noticed as she entered, was filled with the scent of the dull rustiness of the papers and the floor was soaked in the dirt, produced by the mud on the roads. A small unpleasant smile crept over her face at the analogy that her mind suddenly managed to draw from the dusty floor and her own life at the moment: crushed bitterly to nothingness and no one was there to hold on. Springing out of her thoughts immediately, she headed to her destination and after 20 minutes of struggle, her eyes brightened at the sight of her brother.

She advanced towards him and seeing him indulged in his work, she put her hand on his shoulder. "Sharman bhaiya," she whispered slowly, slow enough not to be heard by even the person sitting in the nearest cubicle.

Sharman stood up and smiled at his sister. "Come," he said and offered her a seat.

"What was it you couldn't talk to me at home?"

"Ishani, I'm afraid I cannot talk to you about it in my office either. We will have to find a different place, and since it's urgent and needs to be a secret, let's hope no one finds out about it. No one," Sharman said, emphasizing his last words, and Ishani nodded. Although he never said this to Ishani, but she confiding so much in Chirag always troubled him, and this remark was somewhere meant to silence her excitement that she should have liked to share with him sooner or later. Since Ishani and Chirag were to be married right after they won the case, Ishani never liked hiding anything from him. However, she right now had agreed and he could trust her on the matter before revealing one final and sole evidence he had been able to extract before it was too late. A final hope arriving at the doorstep at the most right time.

"How is Chirag doing?" he asked, changing the subject of the conversation. "I haven't heard anything from him for many weeks."

"He's been busy."

"Busy, eh?"

Ishani understood his sarcastic remark but chose to stay silent. She knew he didn't like Chirag, not after he had been out of station during her father's accident. Right now, her major concern was the subject her cousin wanted to discuss with her.

"But, sir, please look at this project once!" the man pleaded in front of RV while he only gave a careless sigh.

"How many times need I tell you the consignments have to be mature enough to be presented in front of RV?" RV retorted, his eyes so fiery for a moment that the man before him trembled.

"But- but, sir... you said you wanted the best diamond consignment for the commencement of your work in India, and it's the best one I have been able to fetch. Investments in these three companies have been huge and nothing can be more beneficial for you than it right now," the man spoke timidly and RV sighed, irritated.

"How meretricious!" he snarled.

"Sir, I will look after the matter," Puneet said, interrupting the conversation. Out of all the people in the world he knew arguing with his boss was like fighting a losing battle in which all the prospects of success were in his own hands; and if he found a tiny bit of flaws in the transactions that would result in loss in future, by no means he would ever take them up. RV, at his PA's sudden interruption, looked disgruntled but nodded immediately, the slight change in his livid eyes and single nearly imperceptible nod enough evidence for Puneet to take hold of the matter in his hands.

"Come," Puneet said, turning to the man, and led him out of the cabin. RV turned back to the window, a quiet smile on his lips, and uncaring of what happened to the world about him except one person.

His eyes traced the large hoard of the buildings, stretched before him towards the west of the town, narrating a tale of his victory over the odds that 3 years ago were but an impossible dream. He smirked, his swift gaze taking in the view avidly before him. His eyes were set afire with a passion he had rarely experienced before, but its impact lingering over him for a long, long time. The air, its essence absolutely like he had left years ago. Nothing had changed much, except the scornful eyes now searching for him with awe and reverence, and he, with all his strength, being able to squash them mightily. Time changes and leaves those scorching scars that burn your soul tremendously everytime the fiery object comes in its contact and thus begins another cycle of time; full of hope and agony, life and death, success and failures, and love and hatred. Love. Was this a beginning or its end? Time had all the answers.

Keeping all of his thoughts aside suddenly, RV turned back and came to his desk; a mild stack of newspapers flooding with the news of return of RV complied on it. The front page, the economical section, editorials, local news all loaded up with the reports concerning RV and how he was supposed to influence the nation and its economy from now on. Influence the nation? he wondered.

He softly traced his fingers across the section Mumbai News in The Hindu and halted at a particular report. He swiftly read the entire account of the report, and re-read it various times until he was able to grasp the tiny shock.

"Damn those idiots!" he growled, anger being the rarest emotion he felt most of the times.

"Puneet, I need you to check in. Right now!" he spoke urgently on phone.

"I told you to take care of yourself, Ishani," Sharman said as he supported Ishani out of the hospital while she felt her feet tremble. "I'm sure you haven't taken your medicines as well?"

Ishani smiled guiltily, walking timidly. "I haven't had time for that, bhaiya. It's been so much hectic since last 4 days that I forget taking them quite often," she said, her head still spinning. Sharman held her tightly; not letting her fell from giddiness.

"You do know how important your health is right now for us, right?" he asked, concerned.

Ishani nodded. "I will take care of myself, bhaiya."

"Twice," Sharman chastised, ignoring Ishani's apologetic assurances. "You've fainted twice in two days, and that too because of your carelessness. Why don't you get it, Ishani?"

"I'm sorry, bhaiya," Ishani apologized. "And, by the way, you are forgetting we were to discuss something urgent, right? What is it?"

"Let's go." They reached Marine Drive in the next one hour, the afternoon sun now brighter than in the morning. Ishani always loved it around the sea, its sublime serenity and placid nature both motivating and comforting her greatly. Time being callous hours for the visitors, the beach was rather calm with very few people's presence.

"What is it?" Ishani spoke as she and Sharman settled on the sand.

He peered about him to ensure they were not being spied and then produced a thin packet inside which was kept a circular object. "This is the CCTV footage of the Diwali night when Kaka became the victim of that unfortunate accident. It was originally planned to keep a secret but someone..." he paused for a while as if to recall the real events, and then continued, "...last night left it in my cubicle's drawer. When I arrived there this morning, I was surprised to find it."

"Does it have all the answers?" Ishani questioned eagerly, too keen to focus on any other detail.

"I have a copy of this in my phone. It would be nice if you too take a look." Sharman handed her his phone and Ishani in a while could see her father struggling, coughing and the smoke, debris and the flames soaring higher amidst the cries coming for help of the workers and employees. Tears gleamed in her eyes, yet she continued to look over, in the end finding nothing helpful.

"I don't get it," she said, looking confused. "What is useful here?"

"Ishani." Sharman paused the 2 minute video at a definite moment and indicated towards a man standing right behind her father in a shadow. "Someone was there, though the face of the man is not very clear, but you can see him clearly standing there."

"It was obvious," Ishani admitted, still confused. "It was such a huge accident; people were bound to be there. What is it I can't see?"

"But don't you see this man isn't moving anywhere?" Sharman said keenly. "If he were an employee, he would be trying to find a way for himself; and if he came to rescue Kaka, he wouldn't have been a mute spectator for more than 5-10 seconds whereas this gentleman seems to be rooted in one place only. From what I can deduce, he was waiting for something... something that he had risked his life for."

Ishani gasped. "And that means..."

"You are right. He most likely is our man and we have to find him soon enough. And it also means we still have our chance at it."

"Of course," Ishani agreed. "We still can stop it all. The auction and..."

"All the destruction to Kaka's company," Sharman finished.

"Thank you, bhaiya!" Ishani said as she stood up to leave, but Sharman dragged her back to sit.

"There's some worrisome news too," he said, and Ishani could see concern etched on his face. When she did not disturb him, he continued, "Have you read newspaper recently?"

Ishani shook her head.

"Alright. There's someone... a businessman... and they call him the King of Dalal Street... he has returned from abroad yesterday noon, and is being said the strongest contender for winning the auction of the Parekh Mansion," Sharman said, and Ishani flinched at the words King of Dalal Street'. Sometimes all hopes seemed to be fading away; everything that once belonged to her father was slipping away slowly, and she stood there, helplessly staring at the devastation, unable to even utter a cry of pain.

"But we do have our evidences, right? We'll fight the case and win it before that. He won't be able to do anything," she said, getting out of her thoughts.

"No, Ishani, it's not that simple," Sharman explained. "I've heard his men went to the Parekh Mansion yesterday and they approved it for him. If he wills it clearly, all of our evidences and efforts are in vain, and he will have our house in a couple of minutes."

Ishani gasped in surprise, but composed herself. "But how can he do that, bhaiya? He must know who it belonged to before."

"Be practical, Ishani," Sharman said sympathetically. "Our struggle against him is like a droplet of water struggling against an entire ocean. If he's made up his mind, we can't..."

"Do you want to support me or not, bhaiya?" Ishani asked, interrupting him. "You know we can't lose hope. Not when we have come this close and have this one evidence to prove Papa innocent and get him back his lost dignity."

"Ishani, trust me. I will fight till my last breath."

"Thank you. And what is the same of this new King of Dalal Street'?" Ishani asked.

"RV."

Ishani winced at the name. She knew it! The same feeling, same sensations running through her skin: butterflies, and all of it resulting in the same dislike for the man.

"Ishani, are you alright?"

She nodded, lost, her thoughts wandering towards the man who had without even entering her life had made it a crazy chaos and she was helpless.

"Now let's go. You need some rest. It's already getting late," Sharman said, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"No, before that I have to visit one more place. You want to join me?"

"Sure, but where?"

"Hospital?" Puneet looked at his boss in shock. "Sir, there are 5 meetings in a row, and we don't have a single moment to spare till late night today. How are we supposed to leave out any of them? The deals!" His boss scarcely valued things lying beyond his benefit and today being the first time him taking another matter over his gain was nothing but an absolutely new and shocking revelation that Puneet had ever witnessed. He, however, was not truly surprised. Every now and then RV revealed a new figment of his personality hidden from the eyes of the world like a fossil concealed from the eyes of the masses.

RV kept quiet. He was not a chatterbox but his silence felt frightening as if indicating towards a storm about which only knew. Puneet informed the guards but RV waved his hand, requesting him not to bother with them.

"But, sir..."

"Only we are going," RV said, without elaborating further.

"Of course we are," Puneet said, flustered. "But you can't move out without security, sir. You don't know how you will be assaulted with the flings of media people once you're out there." He chuckled. "And, RV sir, one more thing: please can you speak a little more? It scares me, you know?"

RV shook his head, amused, and his lips curved in a ghost of the smile that Puneet was so accustomed to. "You amaze me, Puneet," he said, ignoring the delight of the situation. "Let's go."

And why his boss had to become so grumpy all the time was beyond Puneet's ken. Enjoying one single moment of life wouldn't have cost him anything, but if only his cranky boss understood. Sometimes, his eyes were enough to scare hell out of him. Puneet followed him, only to witness another shocker of his life.

"I will drive my way." He heard his boss tell the driver, a man in his late 50s who nervously left his seat. Puneet darted towards RV, and, shocked, hurled the question that didn't seem inappropriate at all. He was confused, after all.

"Sir, are you going to drive?" he asked, surprised, while RV cocked his eyebrows at him. "But you don't know how to drive! You've never driven before!"

"Doesn't mean I can't try," RV answered, and Puneet noticed a slight tension on his face.

"Are you alright, sir?" he asked, worried.

RV kept quiet and made his way to the driver's seat, Puneet following him and settling himself on the passenger one. Although his boss never drove before, he didn't fear one bit to be on the passenger's seat. He wondered if his trust in him was too strong or it was something else he wasn't yet aware of.

As they came towards the highway, the sharp sounds of the cars followed behind them. RV noticed and looked back only to realize his guards didn't leave him alone. He glared at Puneet who only shrugged slightly.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we couldn't leave you alone like that."

RV rolled his eyes at Puneet. "They're not going to murder RV, are they?"

"God forbid if that happens!" Puneet shrieked. "And can you please stop talking about that, sir?" His boss' flamboyance over the matters such as death and life often intimidated him. RV was no sadist, and had everything one could hope for in life, still why he often talked things like that? RV thankfully was silent the whole way to the hospital. Unusually silent.

It was sheer surprise for Puneet that his boss drove so skillfully and better than himself as the car halted in front of the tall building of Hinduja National Hospital. "You are so perfect in driving, sir!" Puneet praised his boss. "I wonder where you learned this from!"

RV gulped, and stepped out of the car quietly, followed by Puneet, and the guards behind covering them immediately. Suddenly all the eyes on the way were turned towards them and murmurs of confusion and admiration reached their ears.

"What are we here for, sir?" Puneet said, as he struggled to keep his pace equal to that of RV's. "It wasn't in our schedule either. Not today, not tomorrow, not after that." RV didn't answer him and continued to walk, guards keeping the indiscreet crowd at bay.

After walking for nearly 10 minutes, 2 doctors accompanying them, RV halted in front of a room and eyed the sole patient in the ward curiously. "Who is here, sir?" Puneet asked, while RV only smiled pensively, a smile hinting relief or sorrow, he could not tell.

"Make sure no one invades here without my permission," RV said to Puneet who followed the orders straight away and left. Who was in there in the room? And why was RV behaving so strange today? Not that Puneet had any problem in anything, but he was just being curious about the boss who he was supposed to be updated about all the time.

RV entered the hospital room, feeling awkward, and made his way to the patient that lay few yards away from his sight. He sat on a chair kept and looked at the patient uncomfortably. He lay there on the bed, machines attached to keep him alive, his eyes closed and his body covered in a white hospital sheet to his breast. RV took the limp hand of the patient in his own and closed his eyes, the burden of years and its misery heavy upon him. The touch again took him back to an era he had often longed at his life's most wild moments, but knew he had lost all of it the same night 3 years ago that turned out to be the turning point of his life. The birds fluttering at the window snapped RV out of his thoughts and he again looked at the man before him. He gave a little sigh, the sight of the man he revered all his life being unbearable every passing moment. RV slowly squeezed his hand, as if the gentility of it would have the man back to consciousness out of his ceaseless slumber. He knew it wouldn't.

"Mota Babuji," he whispered softly, and gulped. "I never thought when I would see you again, you would be unable to say anything." The old man's eyes remained closed, not a single figment in them moving. "I know you can hear me, only you cannot talk to me." RV slowly caressed his Mota Babuji's hand, as tears quietly sparkled in the corners of his eyes. He struggled to keep himself composed, but found himself failing in front of the man who was his strength but now he was lying here, helpless and unable to move.

"I came here for you," RV began, and hesitated before uttering the next words, "and for her. Please open your eyes. You hated me, right? Just... just scold me, if that's what you want... if that can make you feel better. But please do open your eyes." Slowly, he felt vulnerability taking over the plastered barriers he had created around his heart to protect it from the brutality of any betrayal or any emotion called love. RV stared at his Mota Babuji, memories of a long gone past returning back to him, splintering the well formed barriers and making the best of the attempts to shatter them ruthlessly. He couldn't let that happen. RV was no more his older self. RV was not weak.

Having spent God knows how long time with his Mota Babuji, RV stood up, determined to finish the job he had returned for. Betrayals, heartaches, and helplessness that his Mota Babuji had fallen the prey of due to his goodness. It was time to avenge the wrong. It was time to avenge the lost and forgotten. Forgotten for him? No. He could never forget the single moment that snatched away everything he had; and it was time to change to the game. Time to change the rules and defeat the enemy in his own territory even before he had time to pursue his deceit. He made a promise to the man lying down on the bed: promise of the overdue justice to all the wrongdoing they had been the victims of.

RV walked out of the hospital room, leaving his Mota Babuji with a hope and determination to return what rightfully was his and truly belonged to him. Puneet joined him right on the front gate and they headed to the exit of the hospital when RV suddenly halted in his tracks and peered around as though his eyes searching for someone.

"RV sir, are you alright?" Puneet asked, suddenly following his boss' suit and halting abruptly beside him. He felt RV's eyes go colder than usual, the usual remaining cold spark going amiss from them suddenly and being replaced with a fierce longing he had never seen before. Ironic! Puneet saw his boss' eyes following someone as he darted towards the crowded passage, Puneet staggering behind him. "Sir! Where are you going?"

RV heeded no attention to Puneet and continued to walk towards the passage his eyes broke no contact with, now guards having hard time in controlling the ebullient crowd that was suddenly joined by a couple of cameramen, their cameras peeking through the crowded crevices sparsely.

For RV, he felt his heart beat for the first time in 3 years, his breath holding a meaning for the first time in those years. Was she here? He wouldn't be surprised if she was; but how was he supposed to face her was the matter on which he always pondered but without reaching any conclusion. Puneet's voice rang in his ears again and again, calling him back, but he was so consumed by the anticipation of a moment that always promised to seethe him to both life and death simultaneously. A fire surrounded him, absorbing him in its every essence as if nothing existed beyond it in the moment. Lost in his thoughts, RV walked further only to realize he had come too far away, his eyes wandering greedily from one corner to another only to find out there was no one and his quest was in vain; instead of the object of his quest, a young woman in red salwar-kameez stood there, struggling with the guards to let her in who still took hold of the masses valiantly. But it was not her. Even broken hearts had their own fantasies that threatened to come alive at the slightest hint of hope.

"Let them in," RV said softly, and the crowd was set free as everyone swarmed in quickly, some trying to reach out for him, but to their dismay, guards blocking their way to him. Puneet joined him immediately as they managed to get him out unscathed from the enthusiastic multitude of people.

"That was... horrendous!" Puneet panted as they reached the car in a few moments, some people still following them. "See, RV sir, that's why I informed the guards. Or else..."

"On the contrary, I think, the crowd was attracted because of them. Anyway, we need to leave. There's no time to spare till the late night."

Puneet gasped, as he felt his boss returning to his older self. That coldness was back. Passion from his eyes disappeared like a star buried under the thick layer of clouds.

"Who were you looking for?" he asked lightly, afraid for a storm he was absolutely unaware of.

RV looked at him as the car began its journey back to RV Brokers and Solutions' office, and smiled. But nothing else was said.

"Ishani! Ishani!" Sharman called her out, struggling with the crowd that still did not return from the ride it was taken on a couple of moments ago. After a great effort for nearly 10 minutes, Sharman finally found her standing next to the front gate. "I've been calling for you. Where have you been?"

"He was here," Ishani said, her voice low, and her eyes dreamy.

"Who?"

"RV. Before he left, he was here." She pointed towards the place she was standing now.

"Are you serious? How would you possibly know the exact location he was standing in this hospital?"

Ishani shrugged her shoulders and smiled. Who was RV and why he affected her the way he did?

"Anyway, did you get to meet Kaka?"

"No," Ishani said. "They didn't let anyone go towards that direction. I wonder who was RV here for?"

Sharman shook his head. "I've no idea. Let's go to see Kaka."

RV's thoughts kept drifting back to the moment he felt her so close. His life... so close and yet so far away. A bottle of wine sat lazily on the table as he poured the second glass in a row out of it. He had promised his mother he wouldn't drink too much, no matter how strong the urge was; and whenever he found himself failing, her words soothed him. But tonight was different and he would try to do his best not to go weak.

"Do you need something, sir?" He saw Puneet peering through the door, and shook his head.

"I don't," RV assured. "You go and take rest."

Puneet stood, shocked, for a while and stared at his boss in utter disbelief. What was his boss suddenly turning into? Ever since his return from the hospital he had become quite a strange being who Puneet had never seen before.

"You want to take the job of a watchman too?" RV's words brought him back to the present, and he shook his head twice to let go of the shock.

"Is that really you?"

RV looked up and raised one eyebrow.

"I think I'll leave now." Puneet hastily shut the door and left.

RV turned back to his glass of wine which suddenly tasted bitter, and after one sip, he couldn't take anymore. He stood up, and walked towards the window: outside below the sounds of the vehicles loud and distracting enough to keep him awake for a long time. The black clouds above grumbled slowly, heralding another set of gentle downpour in a while. He looked down: the same city, same people and their same ways of life, and all fascinating in strange ways. His eyes wandered downward and he couldn't deny they still searched for her only. Countless questions swarmed in his head but he chose to ignore them, taking in the bitter tasting wine in one go and not regretting a single bit. How could he turn so weak all of a sudden? His thoughts were interrupted by a phone call suddenly. Slightly irritated, he received it only to listen to the reprimanding words in return.

"Where have you been, Ranveer?" RV closed his eyes painfully at the mention of the souvenir of his excruciating past.

"Baba," he said softly, his tone imploring. "Please!"

"Should I call you RV like everyone else does?" His father chuckled, though hint of slight anger still visible in his tone. "I have tried that enough because you wanted me to say that, but I couldn't. And RV is a stranger to me."

"And, Baba," RV said, changing the topic suddenly, "weren't you supposed to be here by this evening? I had sent Rishi. You should've come. You don't have to live in the village anymore."

"Ranveer, there are few issues that need to be sorted out here. I can't leave them halfway through and--"

"That will be done," RV interposed. "You are coming here tomorrow straight."

His father smiled. "It's been so long since I last saw you. I missed you so much, and I'm sorry that I couldn't be there for you when you returned."

"Baba, its' alright!" RV said, smiling. "I can't wait to see you tomorrow."

"Did you meet her?"

"Baba," RV answered wearily, "we can talk about everything tomorrow, right? And I only want to talk about you and to you."

"Sure, my boy." Kailash smiled, and disconnected the call.

For the first time in evening RV smiled warmly. Finally, tomorrow he was going to meet his family after 2 and a half years.

Hiya, all! Finally the next chapter. :)

CHAPTER 4: Thorns in the Bed of Memories

He stared at the phone for a long time after the call ended.

Talking to Ranveer seemed to make him feel unexpectedly tired, these days.

Sighing, he filled his glass with water from the rickety tap and settled into his armchair. His eyes drifted to the damp walls with faded yellow paint, roughened floor jagged and broken at places and finally the tattered ceiling full of holes, heavily leaning on one side pirouetted by a particularly strong gust of wind.

All in all, it was a home of a person who wouldn't be able to feed himself two square meals a day, forget about his family.

And that person was none other than him.

Kailash Vaghela, who in his whole life earned the tag of a servant and by duty, bequeathed it to his son too.

His eyes closed, thoughts and memories came to life. At once his shoulders hunched in hopelessness and defeat. It was a state no one had ever seen him in. Not even his son and wife. This facade of his was something he had always kept hidden.

Life had after all had never been particularly kind to him.

After his father's death their land had been snatched away by his own brothers. He, already broken by two successive tragedies, had been unable to do anything. Alas, he had to take what remained of his family and relocate to the city. More like escape with his family to the city, for past sometimes seemed to be a gigantic monster refusing to be slewed.

And life in the city had been even harder.

He had known nothing about the fast moving life so alien to his own. He had tried a lot but luck seemed to detest him and they had been forced to swallow their dignity and live on the streets.

That had been one of the worst phases of his life. He doubted he would ever forget walking in on his wife picking up food from the dustbins and feeding it to their son.

A sharp pain sizzled through him and he gulped. The age old adage was wrong. Time never dulled the pain, it only absorbed them to the background where they waited gaining strength and looking for any scope to erupt.

And then, he had met God!

Harshad Parekh might have been a mortal like all, but for him, he had been his God.

That man despite being a King had rescued him from the streets and taught him his livelihood, his only skill in life. Driving!

He had learnt every gesture from him and finally was appointed as his own personal driver. His unstable life had finally come to a stop.

The next few years were marvellous.

His son was happy, his wife happier and he was the happiest man on Earth.

And of course bad had to follow the good and tragedy struck, again.

However, this time he was not the target. Rather it was his son who faced the brunt of it.

Kailash as usual stood a silent spectator at the peak of the injustice that followed, while his wife raged against the brutality and his innocent son paid for his love in tears of blood.

He had as in the past, been useless to even move a finger. It was perhaps that day, when he realized that he was a coward. And didn't that deeply rankle him!

The cries of his son had sheared at his soul and yet he had said nothing.

Three years had passed.

Everything was different and yet the same.

And today he stood in front of a fork. Which road to take?

Two duties and each in contrast with each other.

The duty of a debt to be repaid and the duty of a father to his son.

Polar opposites and yet similar.

He sighed and sipped the cold water.

He had stayed out of the whole situation for a long time. Knowingly delayed the whole thing, till he could get a hold of himself but he doubted it was possible anymore if the article on the paper and the tension in Ranveer's voice were anything to go by.

And as fate had predicted, he had to enter the very pit he had run away from but this time with the knowledge that the years old secrets he had kept buried were soon to unveil.

He wondered if he would be able to fight the backlash. He wondered if Ranveer would be able to do so.

His mind drifted to his wife.

Amba, the missile of a woman who had taken his whole world up by a storm and changed every aspect of it; he missed her so.

A nostalgic smile spread across his face and hardened as the oath he had given her came to his mind.

They wouldn't lose another son, neither to the dead, nor to the living.

And Kailash despite being a coward and an unsuccessful man was determined to see it through.

CLICK!

CLICK!

CLICK!

CLICK!

CLICK!

"Ishaani," Disha shouted, "what the hell is your problem?"

Ishaani blinked and stared at her sister. "Sorry... actually I-"

Disha rolled her eyes. "Look it is late and I need to get my beauty sleep. That is not possible if you keep playing with the switch. So either you sleep or get out. Your choice." With that she turned and delved back inside her covers.

"Switch off the light, Ishaani," she spoke, her voice muffled.

Ishaani switched off the light and leaned against the bed rest, closing her eyes.

Sleep however was not her guest.

She felt awfully tired, the events of the day finally getting into her but her mind remained awake, uneasy and unsettled.

She felt troubled and she knew the reason very well too.

The hospital her father was admitted in was one of the best ones. It specialized in giving anonymity to people and was preferred by public figures. Thus the security was one of the best.

However that morning's news tore that illusion into shreds.

Someone had broken into the hospital.

As per the news, the person had escaped and the alarm was rung after he was sighted in the eighth wing of the hospital. And this made her even more uneasy.

Calm down, she told herself, there were many people in the eighth wing. Anyone could have been the target. However, no matter what reason she tried to dredge up, somehow her instincts told her that the attack was somewhere connected to her father.

It was perhaps by luck or some other entity looking at them with pity, her father had been transferred to the third wing two days previously.

That gave her family the basis to believe that the attack was nowhere connected to the Parekh patriarch but she was not to be dissuaded.

Her mind drifted to what Sharman had said in the morning.

Perhaps there was something more to the picture they believed in. Maybe this was the indication that something was seriously wrong with the whole matter.

And with that the next problem in line drifted up.

The hospital was really expensive.

Her father had been kept at home but a month ago the notice of the auction of the Parekh Mansion came up and his health detoriated. The whole family had then decided to shift him to the hospital for better care, except Baa of course who had kicked up quite a fuss at that.

And then her father went into coma.

A familiar ache erupted in her as a tear slipped out of her eyes.

The very next day, her father suffered a severe stroke and his recovery was doubtful for a period of time. The doctors thankfully did manage to save him but his return to consciousness was something they weren't positive on.

It made Ishaani want to rage and shout at the unfairness of all that. Her father was one of those people who made the world beautiful by simply being in it. He was a brilliant father and a good son and husband. However he was a wonderful human being too, before all that.

And yet, vultures lined up in the shores to pick on the vulnerability of the next warrior to fall in the race of life were not at all bothered by good morals. And attacked they had the very moment Harshad Parekh had missed a step in the ladder and plunged to the abyss.

The most bewildering thing was that the ones to give him the first of the wounds were the ones who had kissed the ground before him during his reign as the King of Dalal Street.

Those were the people whose children had been friends with Ishaani. They had been the people whom she lovingly called Uncle and Aunty, who used to bring her gifts during her birthdays and festivals.

"I don't think so."

"Why?" Ishaani stared at him with her hands on her hips. "They are my Papa's friends and their children are mine."

He stared at her with eyes, too mature for his age. "Vultures! That's what they are."

Ishaani frowned. "You are just jealous that I have got friends other than you."

"No I am not," he spoke in a serious tone. "Be friends but be careful. Remember one thing. When one is at the top, they are always alone. Company may give an illusion of not being alone but truth is you always are."

Ishaani pouted, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Ranveer cocked his head, staring at her carefully. "Roses have thorns too, Ishaani!"

She felt laughter bubbling up as her tear tracks filled up again.

He was right.

Roses had thorns too.

And didn't it just make her feel even more helpless.

She sighed and felt the stirrings of sleep reaching out to her. She pulled the covers and lay down on the bed.

Staring at the ceiling she completed her daily routine before turning in.

Closing her eyes, she softly murmured.

"I hate you, Ranveer."

ATTACK FAILS

INTUDER ENTERS HINDUJA NATIONAL

Mumbai reels with shock at the events commenced the night before, when an intruder managed to breach the tight security of the Hinduja National Hospital. This incident has generated a collective mass dissent with the reputation of the hospital in mind which brags to having the best security in Mumbai, specifically made for granting anonymity to public figures.

The incident however has resulted in questions over this claim. The intruder had successfully escaped the police but had also been unable to complete his intention. There had been no causalities in the attack except for a nurse on night duty being knocked out by the intruder.

He threw the paper angrily.

Failed.

With yell of rage he tore into the glittering decorations and pictures hanging on the wall. He rammed his hand into the mirror watching it shatter into innumerable shards.

The broken glass reflected those feral eyes, dancing with rage and insanity.

Harshad Parekh had very good luck, he thought, clenching his teeth, rage bubbling inside him.

But, luck too had its limits, didn't it?

"I won't be able to make it. Sorry, baby!"

"It is fine, Chirag. I will manage."

With resignation, Ishaani cut the call and sighed, looking around. There were literally no taxis around.

She had left her home for work at fifteen minutes to nine. It was now two thirty and it appeared as if the whole city had gone for lunch break.

"Looks like I have to walk," she muttered as she wiped drops of sweat from her forehead. The heat was really unbearable.

She crossed the road and began walking at a swift grace.

As usual Chirag had been unable to pick her up. He had promised her in the morning that he would take her out for lunch but an important deal had arrived at the last moment, busying him for the whole day.

A soft smile spread on her face.

Chirag was such a workaholic. He would work for days without sleeping and eating properly. Shweta Aunty complained about that every time she met her. Chirag was a really dedicated person and she hoped he would soon succeed in his quest to become the King of Dalal Street.

Chirag had revealed this secret wish of his just about a year ago to her. He had told her that he wanted to prove himself equal to her. After all her father was the King of Dalal Street and he apparently wanted to make sure that the daughter of the King of Dalal Street becomes the wife of the next King of Dalal Street.

A sudden sound of bells ringing loudly interrupted her thoughts. Her gaze fell on a mobile ice cream parlour.

The brown Sedan swerved into a by-lane.

"Tell me are you mentally incapable to understand or just plain inept?"

Puneet winced and turned to look at his furious boss. RV was in a right mood.

He turned to the front and gestured slitting his throat to the driver. The driver gave a sympathetic nod.

"Well, let me assure you, I did not become the King of Dalal's Street by tweaking my fingers," RV retorted sarcastically. "I know very well what should be done during a Bear Market. I am a day trader and I deal with volatile stocks daily. Thank you very much for your advice but I do not need it. I will stick with my short position."

A click resounded, followed by something thrown into the seat.

Puneet risked a glance at his boss and gulped, for his face was wiped clean of any expression. Nothing could suggest that he had verbally beaten up somebody just a few moments ago. However his eyes seemed to focus at the window with an intriguing intensity.

Puneet knew what it meant. His boss was too calm.

That meant, he was furious.

"Ummm, sir?"

"What?" RV growled as he turned his gaze onto him.

Puneet suddenly felt like a mouse in front of a cat. As his boss's eyes pinned him to his place, he felt a stream of respect rise for Jerry if that was how he felt in front of Tom.

"W-Was it Mr Shindey?" he asked, barely able to spit out the words.

The glare deepened. "You were the one who suggested that fool to me, didn't you?"

RV was a Medusa, was his next scatterbrained conclusion, as he looked at his frothing boss. Well minus the snake hair, the glare was the same, capable of rendering someone paralytic.

And all because of Shindey.

Hope he drowns in his tea, Puneet thought miserably.

And that was when something caught his eye.

"Sir!"

"What?"

"Ice-cream, sir?"

"Hello, Bitiya! Waited for a long time, did you?" an old man with a friendly smile greeted her.

Ishaani immediately felt at ease.

"It was a long line."

"So it was. The kids wanted doubles of every flavour." He prepared another scoop and gave it to one of the last customers and finally turned to her.

"Which flavour then, Bitiya?" he asked with a smile.

As she pondered on her choice, a memory swiftly struck her.

"Seriously, Ranveer? Vanilla? It is so boring."

His smile widened. "I like boring."

It was like something took control of her body and answered the question.

"Vanilla please!" two voices rang out in unison.

Ishaani turned to look at a man in formals standing near her.

He was a rather young fellow who looked almost pasty at the heat.

"Ah, there is a problem," the old man broke her observation, "there is enough only for one vanilla scoop. One of you will have to choose another."

"I will take the vanilla," the young man immediately retorted. Ishaani felt her mouth fall open in outrage.

"Y-You..."

He turned to look at her. "What? You look ill. Are you suffering from heatstroke?"

Ishaani blinked. "What?"

"What what?"

"I am not ill."

"I was just asking. You sure look so. If you are not ill, you always look so bad?" he asked curiously.

Ishaani took a deep breath. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I am Puneet."

"Well, Mr Puneet," Ishaani began, clenching her teeth, "I came here first. So I get the vanilla."

Puneet shrugged. "I said first. Anyway if it was for me, I would give it to you, but it is for my boss."

"I see. Does your boss teach you how to behave rudely to strangers too?" Ishaani asked sharply.

"Teach?" Puneet appeared puzzled. "Well he is always a tad rude, so we tend to pick up some of his airs." He turned to the old man. "Add a chocolate for me too."

Ishaani harrumphed. "Well, too bad. The vanilla scoop is mine and..."

"Puneet, are you done?"

Ishaani froze. Her heart suddenly began to thud at an unknown pace. She glanced around wildly to find a brown car with black glasses parked nearby. She tried to glimpse the man inside the car but failed.

"That v-voice," she stammered and turned to Puneet. "Who called for you just now?"

"Huh!" Puneet appeared distracted as he paid for the purchases. "It is my boss."

He turned to look at her. "Sorry about the vanilla. RV doesn't take no for an answer. Bye!" With that he walked back to the car.

Ishaani stood there, stunned and silent.

The car left with a soft whir. It was then that her sudden paralysis broke.

Her head was matted with sweat and she suddenly felt nauseas. Her legs trembled and unable to bear her weight, she collapsed into a heap.

"Bitiya! Bitiya, are you all right?" the startled words seemed to reach her from a long tunnel.

Her head felt woozy.

That voice! Ranveer?

Heya, guys! Here comes the next chapter. :)

Chapter 5: The Missing Notes from Life

By experience of the centuries, weariness was directly proportional to the sleep at night, and intensely so at the late night. In other words, tiredness had the direct connection with people falling asleep and deeply so at the late night. This, however, was not true for Ishani Parekh. Ever since the attack on her father (or so she assumed, for her heart refused to believe otherwise) in the hospital; and after evidences provided by her cousin, Ishani's thoughts remained troubled for her father's safety and well-being. Pratiek would stay there at night and a mild security was arranged as well, but with the passage of time its expenses were running high, and now nothing comforted her. She turned over, tears leaving her eyes in fierce rapidity, and being washed away by a harsh blow of her own fingers with the same intensity. She sobbed, its gentle echoes threatening to burn the quietness of her lonely hour into dark ashes and darker misery of her life.

Heartaches, betrayals, loneliness, woes, and ceaseless torments. Every eye she looked into contained either of these contemptuous emotions of which the victim was she herself. Tonight, as a comfort, she was not the only one that wept: the sky from above joined her in a mournful lament to her misery that shrouded all possible aspects of her hope and life, drowning her in despair. She couldn't sleep. Ishani pushed aside the light blanket sheet and descended from the bed, the floor rather cool due to slight chill in the air and came to the balcony. When she could not sleep or thoughts overwhelmed her too deeply, she would spend her hours here, staring in the black vastness of the heavens adorned by the simply scattered stars and occasionally gleaming white moon. But tonight, the gently falling rain was her companion that she thanked the God dearly for. Her head lifted above, eyes tired and teary but not completely hopeless, and her heart wept for the thousandth time that night for what she had lost.

People that left better had taken their memories away as well, for living with them was no better than surviving on the edge of a sharp knife that only knew how to stab the wounds deeper and make them bleed harder. How was it possible she missed him even now? After that betrayal that no friend must witness, her faith in everything had fallen apart, so what was the matter now? RV? Her mind again went back to the same young man and his invisible rude boss who had snatched away something she desired in that hour.

The voice! It echoed the essence of one person only. Ranveer.

The rain fell harder, spraying itself gently upon her face as she closed her eyes, feel of the cold water stimulating her senses to reality.

"I hate rain, Ishani," he said, making an annoyed face, while she sighed, irritated.

"Come on, Ranveer!" she cried, gesturing him to come outside, the sound of the rain deafening her words to him. "You're not drowning. It's the terrace of our house and we live here!"

He looked uneasily at her and shook his head again while she shot a sharp glance at him. "Even you too catch cold quite quickly, so better you come here." In a moment he took hold of her hand and dragged her away while she struggled to be free from his grip.

"Don't be stupid, Ranveer. Even papa allowed me to before he left for Lonavala," Ishani cried, struggling briskly in his arms now.

"Yes, but had he known the rain would be this bad, you would be stuck in your room. Come on!"

"Now, don't you behave like Baa. You seem to be becoming as strict as her in many ways," she chuckled.

He pressed his lips tightly together, a sign of his mild anger, and looked deeply into her eyes. What was in them that made her go weak all the time just like that?

Her eyes opened suddenly, she was drenched. Fragments of the water dripped from her body lightly like icicles from an autumn leaf. Tears now blended with both wretched agony and somber droplets of rain escaped her eyes. Her eyelids drooped lower, distorting her vision and her eyes suddenly fell upon him; the dark brown ones staring back at her painfully. His pleads of that night echoed in her ears once again, while with a restraining apologetic scream she felt her knees slamming the floor harshly and her head hitting the nearest wall. Rest was black.

Mumbai was a strange city, indeed. Climate being rather unstable nowadays it became stranger to someone like Puneet who had never before been to India, let alone Mumbai. Until 1 month ago, he was happily staying in his mansion in Los Angles, but now he seemed to become an inseparable part of a circus his boss was the ringmaster of. Was his boss a robot since he denied being an alien? He could function perfectly without sleeping, or eating properly for hours. Not even Mumbai's hot weather had any impact upon him when he himself was literally boiling out there. Puneet wiped the sweat off his forehead as he saw his boss driving the car as skillfully as Vincent Van Gogh painting a picture in his best mood. His boss continued to drive as if unaware of the presence of the second soul except him in the car. Who could tell he had just consumed 3 glasses of the strongest of the alcohol and was still driving so perfectly? And forget that, how could he really drive at all when he never really lay his hands upon a car's steering? Puneet had other better reasons to call his boss with this certain title too, since he completely remained devoid of any emotion a human could feel. The slightest hint of suggesting otherwise was his love for his parents, but apart from that, Puneet never saw his boss emoting over anything. Not even if it came to something that could cause him pain.

"I don't have anything to lose," he always said, and that was supposed to be the only answer Puneet could stubbornly extract from his insanely stubborn boss.

Oh, not everyone was blessed with these extraordinary powers and Puneet, being just an employee, was not allowed to ask any more questions since he was more than assured to get them answered on the right and most perfect time.

But where on earth were they going at 10.30 in the night, cancelling half of the meetings they were to get hold of? RV drove away, his eyes not faltering from the coarse path that lay ahead.

"RV sir?" Puneet asked again, perhaps the 7th time in one hour but in vain. His boss did not bat his eyes on him. Puneet sighed. "Sir, I know you do have some powers we are all unaware of, but do you know we need some sleep too? I've been awake for complete 28 hours now, and here you're taking me somewhere else of which I have no idea of. I haven't really trusted anyone as I do to you, but couldn't you please inform me those little details of the business I'm supposed to be the part of?"

RV looked up at Puneet as if a new realization had dawned upon him, and from what he could guess, a slight gleam of guilt flickered in his eyes and his features lightly softened. He gave a resigned sigh.

"It's just..." he tried to say, while Puneet's brows arched in confusion. Did his boss just feel guilty?

"Are you alright, sir?" he asked, seeing RV's troubled face, and he nodded.

"Few miles from Mumbai, in Lonavala, there is a little factory," he said softly, light enough for Puneet to struggle to hear his voice. "And before the auction begins in 3 days, examining that place is necessary. I needed someone I could trust completely, and you are the best choice."

Another surprise from his boss! When did he really behave so kindly to someone even though Puneet had not the littlest of the doubt that he was. And being the most trustworthy fellow in RV's business was a matter definitely worth boasting for. He smiled. But weren't they travelling for so long? Why didn't this Lonavala place yet turn up?

"Thank you," was all he could say, after a while, and RV smiled back. Instead of having known him for nearly 2 years, there was certainly much more he was to uncover about his boss.

20 minute's more journey through the rough road, and the car halted abruptly in front of a tall building, bringing Puneet out of his reveries. The forest occupied largely this place and here and there the town's lights glimmered faintly. RV stepped out of the car gracefully and Puneet followed him.

"On the third floor, in the first room right next to the staircase," RV began, "are some important documents. Related to the Properties of the Parekhs. We need to fetch them right away. And I'll be back soon."

Puneet nodded his head. "Sure, sir." And before anything else could happen, his boss disappeared in the darkness of the building. Puneet sighed. His attention was suddenly caught by two men, enjoying, what he could guess being the infamous masala wali chaye since despite their voices being obscure for him to hear, he could atleast make out these three words. The men seemed to enjoy the place and the company of each other as if two friends met each other after a long span of years.

Uh! He couldn't get himself distracted when his boss was quite happy with him today. Puneet quickly took to the stairs and walked beyond the darkly smelling passage that opened to a cozy room which he assumed to be a store room where all the unnecessary material of the office must have been thrown. But files? A huge heap of them lay before his eyes, littered restlessly on the tables in front of him, threatening to claim his sanity in hunt of what his robotic boss really wanted.

He dialed RV's number. "Sir, you haven't told me what files you need! It'll take hours to find them," he shrieked.

"Puneet, check carefully. The Parekh Mansion and the factory related ones and they're not very hard to find."

"Sir, don't you think it's wrong to break into someone else's office like that around 11 at night?" Puneet asked.

"This is my property!" RV answered instantly. Oh, yes! His boss had bought more property than Puneet even remembered about, since the business was done long nearly 6 months ago; and this one could easily be one of them. He slapped his head and sighed. "Anyway," he heard boss say from the other side, "Get back to work."

Next one hour spent completely in hunt for the files related to the Parekh Mansion and their estate as he tucked in the papers carefully in the bag. Why was RV so obsessed with them anyway? He wanted their mansion at any cost; he bought half of their property and was determine to own everything related to Harshad Parekh. Harshad Parekh. Puneet had heard about him a lot and this connection with his boss and half-baked truths always left him feeling perturbed.

Getting out of his thoughts, he zipped the bag swiftly and descended the stairs he had come from. No time to get late, he thought. But wait! His punctual boss was nowhere to be seen.

"RV sir? RV sir? You there?" he cried, but no answer returned. The two men he saw an hour ago had left and there was only silence that followed his cries.

He turned to the office building and began walking in when a clear mournful string of tinkles splintering through the cold air suddenly arrested his attention. He froze. Did it come from inside? The melody consumed him too deeply to react or think anymore.

Albeit his inability to move a step further, curiosity rose up in his heart as the soft music continued, pensively sad, and suddenly the notes rising in a cadence of unfathomable sadness. His heart lurched with an anguish the little piece of music produced while a magic enchanted him in its ethereal beauty, as the bell-like sounds intensified in gentle succession. The pianist seemed to have poured out every fiber of his soul as the music tempered to the lighter notes as if the softly pressing keys recounted the tales of a misery unknown to a mortal heart.

The gentle collision of the notes resulting in celestial sounds, resonating from the darkness of the room, appeared manifesting a sorrow Puneet had never felt before as the dying embers of the music gained their final crescendo before they faded into an abrupt blur. Slowly the pianist began to play the solitary notes, each of them rigorously piercing his heart as the music now began a descent into a mesmerizing stupor, leaving him still awed, frozen and unmoving in his place while his thoughts travelled in all dimensions possible and yet they didn't.

Puneet began mounting the stairs as the distorted form of the melody reached his ears, now faintly ringing in the air. It couldn't be a good sign, he thought, and quickened his pace to the room now the diminishing music emanated from. And as he reached the room, he found it to be unexpectedly empty: the only object placed there being the grand black piano and his boss' head leaned over it. He seemed oblivious to Puneet's presence. And as he came closer, a harsh chord escaped the piano, loud enough to disturb him in his place.

"RV sir?" he gulped softly. "Are you alright? The files you came here for?" Puneet saw a stack of them lying on the corner of the piano and sighed. "Sir?"

RV still remained in his thoughts, his eyes fixed on the ovary keys, and soon it felt as if he was struggling to grasp some air. Danger!

"RV sir." Puneet now stirred his boss harshly who managed to lightly glance upon him, and Puneet could not deny the fire in his eyes did shake him up badly. "What is this?" He supported RV with his right arm who frivolously stood up, gruffly putting one foot before another.

"I'll manage it! I'll manage it!" he chanted, freeing his hand from Puneet's and nearly fell two steps ahead before Puneet caught him up and RV smiled. A childlike smile. "Thank you!"

Puneet frowned. His boss even in his worst drunken state never behaved like this. What was wrong? "RV sir, I told you not to drink so much. If you can't handle so much of alcohol, why do you consume it like this?" Puneet reprimanded while RV halted in his tracks, and looked at him, observing his face curiously. And then he smiled again; a rueful smile that Puneet was so used to, but tonight it was different.

"She used to say the same," RV spoke in a lost voice, the note of sadness too explicit in his tone.

She? Who? "Who is she?" he asked curiously, but RV seemed to have been relapsed into his trance once again and began murmuring the things Puneet could not understand. And no answer came from him.

This was a completely different RV he had witnessed today. He knew what RV stood for: Ranveer Vaghela. But why his boss refused to be addressed by that name was another mystery to him.

Perhaps it was not RV that exposed himself today, succumbing to the misery no one had an idea about- it was Ranveer that he saw. The man behind the facade of RV who struggled every day to keep himself going on. He brought his boss to the car and settled him gently on the passenger's seat. Even if he insisted to, Puneet would not let him drive.

"I can drive my own way," RV cried, and Puneet shook his head, amused.

"RV sir," he said and chuckled, "I don't really want to die before I'm even 25, you see?"

RV frowned at his PA but soon his expressions turned as if someone was draining all the strength out of him. He couldn't help.

"Don't worry, sir. I'll drop us both to the hotel safely. Not as good as you, but I do know how to drive." The last words earned him a weak glare from his boss as he quickly started the engine and drove away.

The stack of the files extracted the last night lay lazily on the table while the sunrays penetrated the drawn curtains softly.

"Wake up!" a voice reached him in dreams and he groaned as a sign of not wanting to get up. Very rarely he slept these days.

"Ranveer, wake up!" the voice called again and its familiarity immediately shot him out of his sleep.

"Baba!" he exclaimed as the old man before him smiled lightly, a smile worn out by the tragedies of years. "I... I was expecting you all day and you didn't turn up!" He sat up quickly and arranged himself properly on the bed.

"Yes," his father answered calmly. "There was another business to finish and I waited until late night to come here. He was with me as well."

Ranveer's brows furrowed in confusion until truth dawned at him. "He's here?" he asked excitedly. "But he had left for Kerala last year. Why didn't he come with you if he's in Mumbai?"

His father sighed. "He arrived yesterday before me. We talked on phone and he agreed to accompany me too and we landed in the afternoon here."

"But where had you been all day then, Baba?"

Kailash smiled. "We were in Lonavala, his native place and left from there at night."

"What?"

"Don't be surprised, son," his father chuckled. "I know you and Puneet had been there at night, but I didn't want to disturb you in that and thought of seeing you when you were well, and so I left. I did notice Puneet there, but he seemed not to recognize me... how could he? He had never seen me before."

Ranveer smiled. "Baba, I missed you so much," he said, his eyes still unbelieving of his father's presence in front of him. So much had changed over the years, and so had his father. Weight of misery and loneliness was so heavy upon him.

"I missed you, too, son," his father replied, smiling. "Time has passed so quickly that nothing looks real anymore. There was a time-"

"Baba," he interrupted, "we don't have to remember our past anymore, alright? What is gone is already gone. And it all is for you. Everything." Kailash noticed a hint of pride in his son's tone that made his own heart swell with vehement delight. But his son not remembering his past was a fact they both knew was utterly impossible.

"True, I have everything I could ask for," he said softly and smiled at his son whose eyes did not leave his father's. "Ranveer, I'm here! Get used to it."

Ranveer looked at his father, a gaze that even made the old man withdraw his own. "Maa would have been so happy," he said after sometime, a mixture of guilt and sadness visible in his eyes.

"She is proud of you, Ranveer. She is." His father smiled. "Who wouldn't be proud to have a son like you?"

Ranveer averted his eyes away. "But I failed her all those years ago. All her dreams, all her hopes were shattered... she always hoped I would be her support when she needed me, but when the time came, I--"

"Trust me, Ranveer," his father broke the sequence of his guilty confessions. "She understood everything. Everything. Your love, your loyalty... everything. And she never had anything against you or anything you felt." Kailash deliberately avoid

Ranveer remained silent, his eyes looking out of the window and words being too heavy tools to express the losses his heart had endured. The memory of the tragedy of 3 years ago was still so fresh.

His father came further and took him in a richly needed embrace. "Wherever she is, she is looking at you, proudly; and which father wouldn't be proud to have a son like Ranveer?" He emphasized on the word "Ranveer" quite too much while Ranveer smiled guiltily at his father. Finally he could feel had returned home. His father's embrace being the most familiar feeling in the outlandish insanity this city provided.

But after all those years, he still missed his mother.

Hi, everyone! I'm back again and all the details why this chapter from this account are in the first post itself. Please check that out. And beginning part of this chapter is written by Niki herself, so credit to her. :)

And as we know, today is the birthday of our Ranveer, a huge shout out to him. Happy birthday, Ranveer! This chapter is dedicated to him. <3

Chapter 6: The Turbulent Chaos

It was a pleasant day. The exhausting heat of the summer had shuttered down a notch and the temperature was enjoyably warm without sweating rivers and oceans.

By default, the park was filled with little children clambering on the slides or the swings and happily running around generally being a welcome nuisance to their parents and in some cases the grandparents.

There were also people strolling around chattering about their lives, pregnant women taking slow guided steps leaning on their husbands and even parents with strollers. There were even a couple of old people sitting in the benches enjoying the lively atmosphere.

In short it was a normal day and as fate would have it, abnormal had to happen.

"One ticket please."

The man behind the ticket counter stared. He stared and blinked. He stared and blinked again.

Quietly, he handed the ticket.

The other man gave a blinding smile as he took the ticket. "How much?"

The man behind the ticket counter stared, silent.

The other man sighed and handed a five hundred rupees note. "Keep the change."

It was a long time after he departed that the jingle of glasses woke him up. In front of him stood a boy from the regular roadside chai-vendor carrying an array of glasses of tea steaming happily.

"What happened, Sir Ji?" the boy asked as he handed over a glass of masala chai. "You look like you saw a ghost."

The man gave the boy a wide eyed look. "I-It was awf-ful. I-I can't believe..."

"What, Sir Ji?" the boy asked, scratching his head.

"That man who just came here," he replied, gulping, "has worst f-fashion sense in the entire world."

"Huh?" the boy muttered unintelligently.

"Hmm," the man nodded solemnly. "I feel blinded. No one should be that bright."

The people stared.

It was as if someone had switched a button off that all the liveliness of the people disappeared, freezing them with looks of utter bemusement in cases of the adults, and that of wonder in the children, for all of them together turned to look at the spectacle that walked into the park on its own legs.

He smiled a huge grin at all the children who stared at him wide eyed. A toddler walked to his mother and repeatedly tugged her dupatta to gain her attention.

"Maa," the child said, pointing at the brightly dressed man. "Raebow."

The mother looked at her child and back at the new visitor. "Rainbow." She nodded.

The man strolled around with a dopey grin plastered on his face. He was very, very happy today. After working like mad these past days, his boss had finally given him an off and that, too, for one whole day. It was the first time he had a whole day to himself after they came to India.

A man jogging nearby slowed down. He caught the eye of the jogger and gave a blinding grin. The poor jogger stumbled.

It was after taking a walk around and rendering half the crowd blind with his colourful attire, he ended up settling into a bench cloistered in a grove of trees. Another man was already seated there, who appeared to be in deep thought.

He stared at the man and all of a sudden decided to speak.

"Hi!"

The man did not look at him, still in deep thought and mumbled a hello.

He waited for some time for the other man to say another word but seeing his silent patience, his impatience won the test.

"I am Puneet."

The other man sighed. "I am Sharman, please leave me alone."

Puneet grinned. Success!

"At least you spoke. I am awesome."

Sharman rolled his eyes. "What part of leave me alone you don't understand?"

"Well I understand, but it is not necessary, I follow it right?"

"Huh." Sharman sighed. "Do you have a habit of badgering unfamiliar people?"

"Yes." Puneet gave a happy nod.

"All right then; find your next target." With that Sharman stood up to get away from there when a hand snaked up his arm and pulled him back to the bench.

"Don't leave on my account. I was just trying to cheer you up. You look troubled."

"I am troubled. And I need to introspect, which is not possible with you here."

"Well," Puneet began, "why do you need to introspect?"

Sharman closed his eyes. "To find out a solution to my problem."

"Hmm, and do you know what is the best way to solve a problem?" Puneet asked, his eyes shining brightly.

"What?" Sharman spit out.

"Share it."

Sharman's eye twitched. "Whatever do you mean by that?"

"I mean tell me the problem."

"Oh," Sharman drawled, "you want me to share my private problems with a stranger."

"'Exactly! Who is a better listener than a stranger?"

"You must be mad."

"Look, it is not like we are ever going to meet each other again. And I don't know you, you don't know me. So it is not like I am going to broadcast your secrets to anyone."

"But..." Sharman appeared hesitant.

"Look, I will even it out. You tell me your problem; I will tell you one secret of mine. Done?"

Sharman stayed quiet, his resolve slowly breaking down.

"Fine. I will tell you. But if this leaks out, I will hunt you down and gut you with a blunt rusty knife."

"Wow!" Puneet stared at his stranger friend with new eyes. "Violent, huh? Games of Thrones fan?"

Sharman shrugged a yes.

"Cool. Me, too. Don't worry, no leaking secrets. We are after all doing a reverse Tamasha thing."

"Heh? What is that?" Sharman appeared confused.

"Arrey in the film Tamasha, Ranbir and Deepika lie to each other and here we are telling the truth. So reverse Tamasha thing." He looked into the bewildered visage of his new stranger friend. "Eh, forget it. Tell me about your problem."

"My problems are many," Sharman sighed. "I have no idea how to either begin or tackle them."

"Hmmm?"

"But", he swallowed, "the biggest trouble in my life is my soon-to-be brother-in-law."

"Oh!" Puneet leaned forward, his interest piqued.

"Yeah," Sharman nodded. "It all started a few days ago. I had gone to deliver a consignment to my boss and on while on the way back I passed by his office. My sister had told me early morning that he would not be able to meet her that day because he was having an important meeting. My sister considerably understood but was upset too as it was his birthday and she had planned a lot for that day."

"Then? What happened then?"

Sharman took a deep breath. "I decided to pay him a visit. You know I never could fully trust that character. I don't know for some reason I would feel each of his behaviour's a fake mask to hide his reality. And that day proved my suspicions. I went in with a weird feeling settling in my stomach. The whole office was empty."

Puneet could already see where it was going. "You found him cheating on your sister."

A tear dipped down his eyes. "Yes."

FLASHBACK

Sharman was confused. Where the hell were the people? Ishaani had said Chirag was in a meeting. Forget a meeting; there was no sign of the usual hustle bustle of the office either. The building appeared deserted, as if all had been given a holiday today.

His uneasiness soared. Did Ishaani lie? But then again, why would she? Most probably Chirag lied. Or perhaps he was just reading too much into the situation. Maybe the meeting was elsewhere.

Making up his mind he turned to go when a loud moan met his ears.

Startled, he looked around and saw the lights of the conference room on. He was there after all.

Sharman pushed his hesitance and walked forward.

He slowly climbed the short flight of stairs and stood right in front of the conference hall.

Laughter echoed from inside.

His heart started a devious crescendo. He didn't know who was inside but something in him told that today was the day his perspectives would change. Something inside him insinuated that the yearlong suspicions he had harboured would finally culminate to a result.

Another moan broke his thoughts. Trembling hands pushed the door slightly.

He froze.

FLASHBACK ENDS

"I saw h-him, Puneet, with that w-woman," Sharman stuttered to a stop.

A silence met his words.

"So?"

The indifferent tone Puneet answered with broke all of his hopes for sympathy.

"So? After listening to all these, you just reply so'?" Sharman asked, aghast.

Puneet quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, the case is not that special. There are many women who get cheated on by their husbands and realize it after their marriage. You are lucky to know about it sooner. Now, go and tell your sister about it and end the matter."

Sharman scoffed. "As if I haven't tried. But my sister is not ready to listen to any word against him. She is hopelessly devoted to that cheater. I mean he always cancels on dates, gives weird excuses and she still doesn't suspect him!"

Puneet nodded his head. "I get it."

"What did you get?"

"Your sister is Stupid," Puneet answered solemnly.

Sharman opened his mouth to retort angrily and then closed it.

"Yes, she is," he said miserably.

"Exactly and now let's list the facts," Puneet began. "Your sister is stupidly blind, her fianc is a cunning cheater and you are plain useless."

Sharman scowled. "What would you have done then?"

"How about taking a video when you caught that cheater with a woman?" Puneet asked sarcastically.

Sharman stayed silent.

"See, you want to save your sister, right?"

"Of course I do," he burst out. "But I can't see how. There is no way to show her the truth. No chance. His truth getting revealed is like 99.99% impossible."

Puneet gave a smile. "And there is the thing. While it is 99.99% impossible, there is a probability of 0.01% that his truth will come out. My boss, who is a very successful stock broker, always says that even the smallest probability has the potential to change the game. Whenever we play a videogame, every level needs different strategy. Similarly, the strategy you are using now is out dated in front of him. So use a new one that reflects him."

"You mean fight like he does?"

"No, I mean fight in a way that is opposite of his and thus block his all attacks. If you can't prove his guilt right now, no problem. Continue searching for proofs and delay the marriage as much as you can. Keep your sister away from him as much as possible. Busy her in other works, sabotage their dates, anything. If you can't win directly, fight indirectly."

A smile spread on his face. "You are right. I can do it. Thanks."

"No problem," Puneet grinned. "But it is time for me to go."

"Go? Where?"

"Well," Puneet reflected, "I just came to India and haven't even properly toured Mumbai. So since I have the day off, I was thinking of visiting places."

Sharman appeared in thought and suddenly brightened. "Want a local tour guide?"

"Guide?" Puneet appeared delighted and quickly took out his phone. "Give me the number."

Sharman gave him an exasperated look.

"I was talking of myself, you idiot."

"Oh." Puneet looked sheepish. "I won't mind. Let's go."

"Wait!" Sharman stood up and stared at his new friend. Really stared at him. "I will take you with me, but..."

"But?" Puneet asked.

"You need to change."

"Why? I am wearing good clothes."

Sharman sniffed. "Your clothes are hideously multicoloured and shimmer way too much. You give off the appearance of a decked up rainbow Christmas tree. These clothes have to go."

Puneet pouted. "Fine."

As he followed his yellow and blue and many other coloured friend to the car, Sharman reflected on the weird events of the day and finally settled on the title of this new chapter of his life.

"I made a Rainbow friend." He smiled.

"Now, you look perfectly human." Sharman smiled as Puneet got out of the changing room after 20 minutes, a wide smile on his face.

"It took me 20 minutes to decide on these," he said proudly as he showed off his new look, awkwardly grabbing the attention of the rest of the people present in the shop.

Sharman laughed. "Are you always like this?"

"Like what?"

Sharman sighed. "Don't you see the way people are looking at you right now?"

"Ah, no worries! They do little else when I'm around." Puneet winked. "What now? First destination?"

"Well, let's go and find out."

Sharman and Puneet came out of the shop as Sharman took the driver's seat and Puneet the passenger one, staring around him happily.

And as they came out on the highway, the large buildings, ebullient faces of the people heading to their workplaces welcomed them; the normal hustle of the town being the thing Puneet had become accustomed to in these days. As the morning sun grew brighter and brighter, the heat of the season again intensified, although with a mildness today that was a relief to Puneet. The humid morning air of the town promised to be stifling in case it didn't rain today, but it would do alright for now. The highway traffic was faint but Puneet could see it was beginning to grow heavy as the time passed.

"Is it always this hot in Mumbai?" he asked Sharman as stereo played an old Hindi track of the 70s.

"Not really. It's never too cold here, either."

"Oh, yeah. Ocean winds, I understand." Puneet fell silent, listening to the song that he understood belonged to the voice of Kishore Kumar. How he guessed the name of the vocalist, he did not know, but Sharman clarified the confusion.

"Kishore Kumar," he said as he saw Puneet looking at the side of the stereo system in thoughts.

"Yeah, I've heard his name before, too." He couldn't recall where, but he was sure he had heard it from somewhere. Suddenly his boss' face flashed in his head, and he realized where. Puneet shook his head, amused, as the car glided on the streets of Mumbai.

The rest of the journey was in silence from Puneet's side as Sharman took him to the places that he had heard either from his parents or read in the books talking of the grandeur of rich Indian history or the magazines discussing the town. Puneet kept nodding his head in awe as he absorbed all the knowledge his friend today presented him with. It was a journey worth remembering in all ways. It was a surprise that no storm had met him today yet.

"Wow, that was... brilliant!" Puneet said as they stood nearby the stall of Bada Pav after the tiring tour that demanded a great deal of strength in many ways. The dish being one of the most favorite things of the common man of the town, Sharman had dragged Puneet along with him to at least try it once. It was now evening; the shadows of the night were beginning to tremble over the town as Puneet looked about him in interest, the black colours of the night blending steadily into those of silver, golden lights that illuminated the town graciously.

"Glad to know you liked the whole thing," Sharman said and smiled.

"Why don't you enroll yourself for a tour guide job?" Puneet asked as he finished the last remnants of the Bada Pav.

Sharman frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"You've been brilliant today." Puneet chuckled.

Sharman rolled his eyes. "That's because I've grown up in this city. It's my home and I know nearly everything about it."

"Wow!"

"What for?"

"Nothing, serious. Anyway, what do you do? Your profession?" Puneet asked as they paid the bill and left the stall to walk back to the car.

"I'm a lawyer," Sharman answered, and Puneet could notice a hint of pride in his tone.

"That's bloody cool!" Puneet exclaimed. "You can get your sister's fianc straight to the jail as well in case he's found guilty in more than cheating your sister. And I'm sure of that!"

Sharman sighed. "I will get him hanged already for using my sister like that!"

"Easy, man, easy!" Puneet chuckled. "That can wait. Look, what's there?"

While taking their final walk to the car, neither had realized the hustle and cries that had suddenly broken out from a nearby building and along with it came in vision building clouded beneath a large flock of smoke hovering over the place.

"Oh, crap!" Sharman cursed and rushed towards the building, Puneet immediately following him behind. "It's my sister..." he gulped. "It's where my sister works, and she doesn't leave until 9 PM."

Sharman and Puneet darted towards the path where a crowd of hundreds had gathered, deliberately blocking their way to the building. Sharman called up for Ishani but in vain. Phone off.

"Sharman, do one thing," Puneet suggested swiftly. "You go from this gate, and let me find another way to check in. Maybe I can help you somehow."

Sharman nodded his head vehemently and, penetrating the crowds, entered through the crying and shouting people who seemed to have not noticed him at all. Puneet disappeared as well, as Sharman looked behind. How would Puneet find anything about Ishani was beyond Sharman's understanding, but him offering the help was heartwarming.

Puneet entered the smoky building that stunk with dirt and some people lay there, wounded, groaning, while the police and some local volunteers helped them get out safely. Thankfully, Puneet observed, the accident hadn't done any great damage to the goods or people as there was no one left behind, not even Sharman's sister, he hoped, as he checked into the rooms quickly but people either had been evacuated or had run away themselves. The fire had been put out, and all was safe.

But as he walked towards the last room of the row to see and in hope that no one was stuck there, his eyes fell upon the most unexpected person possible right there in that moment.

"And what you might have been doing there, sir?" Puneet reprimanded as his boss remained as calm as the ocean.

He only flinched slightly but kept quiet otherwise.

"You got yourself burned for her? Who was she, by the way?" Puneet asked as he tended his boss' burned up arm where the flesh had almost blistered from the corner of his right elbow to his wrist. RV hissed lightly and flinched but imperceptibly so, so that Puneet could not notice. He, however, gave no answer to Puneet's question. "Sir, didn't I ask you something?" He tried to sound polite, but knew had failed miserably in that, for RV's features stiffened that Puneet never liked very much. It was impossible not to get exasperated in the company of a person like RV's, and Puneet, too, was allowed to have the moments of his own.

RV only looked out of the window in answer, and closed his eyes as if in deep thoughts and trying to endure the pain of the burn that had begun its effect on his senses. What was going in his mind anyway? Puneet did not know, but he needed to find out certain things, otherwise all the events happening around would have driven him madder than he already was. Hundreds of questions unanswered. Hundreds of events not mentioned had to be vouched and answered for his own sanity's sake, but how when RV himself refused to speak a single word? There was no one in Mumbai who knew about him, except him, a certain gentleman who had been the light and only friend of RV's when he was back in the United States.

As a sign of hurt after sometime, RV hissed again and Puneet was brought back to reality and looked at his boss. "Are you alright, sir? You don't look too well..."

"I'm fine," he replied in his most usual blank tone and Puneet knew his boss was getting back to normal, no trace of emotion called pain explicit anymore in his being. RV said nothing more.

"Why did you jump into the fire when you hate it so much?" Puneet asked again. When they had met in Los Angeles for the first time, RV had told Puneet he hated the fire or rather he was afraid of it, for it burned everything that came in its contact; and he had never wanted that to happen to himself.

"To get burned." A clandestine smile concealing something crossed RV's face as Puneet again fell speechless, as if the silence in his boss' tone expressed a storm that at its right time would sweep away all that came his way.

And yet, Puneet wondered, who was the woman who RV hurt himself so badly for? He certainly needed the answers now, no matter what.

"Ishani! Ishani! How are you?" Sharman called out, standing next to the bed on which Ishani lay, unconscious for the past 20 minutes, and heeding no attention to his words. She did not immediately open her eyes but groaned as her ankle felt sprained and she could not move her feet, or turn around. At the repetition of her name, she mildly dared to open her eyes and found herself lying in a hospital room that at its first sight made her gasp in shock. Her head hurt and the vision of the room remained darkly blurred. Struggling, she sat up on the bed and noticed a panic-stricken Sharman standing by her side.

"Bhaiya." She caught her head in hand as her heart felt heavy of an incident- or perhaps a dream- that had left a long-lasting impact on her. It often was the case when she dreamt of him. Had she fainted again? She did not remember so. "Who brought me here?"

Sharman hesitated a little and then spoke. "Ch-Chirag did."

Ishani's feature lightly softened as she stared at Sharman, worried.

"I don't... remember anything. What had happened?"

"A fire broke out in the building of your office. I was with my friend over there when suddenly people shouted and I went out to see you, only to find Chirag getting you out of the building," he explained, bitterness in his voice too clear for Ishani to ignore. Ishani, however, ignored that as an emptiness heaved in her heart, making it beat irregularly all of a sudden.

"Where is Chirag?" she asked Sharman after sometime, hoping to get distracted from these awful bubble of thoughts.

"I don't know," Sharman answered. "He should've been around, and don't be surprised if he isn't."

"Bhaiya, are you still mad at him for not showing up on his birthday? Didn't he clarify he was stuck in an urgent meeting? Please stop doubting on him, Bhaiya! And see, when I needed him the most, he was here!"

Sharman stared at his sister, surprise and pity for her rushing through his mind at her innocently poor judgment for the man called Chirag Mehta. He sighed and shook his head, ignoring the topic for the moment and deciding to follow Puneet's advice- defeat Chirag Mehta in his own game but differently, in ways that Chirag would never have seen them coming. He smiled to himself while Ishani looked at him, now surprised.

"Bhaiya?"

Sharman looked up. "Ishani, let's go home. Falguni Kaki is waiting for you, and even Gauri is planning to see you today. Both panicked real bad when heard of the accident. I've talked to the doctors, and you can go home."

Ishani sighed as she got out of the hospital room, but carrying along a question that tortured her even in her sleep. Who saved me?

The crowd of the town had diluted immensely as the shadows of the night settled over while RV stood by the window, staring down in the darkness, a glass of wine in his hand that waited for its last remnants to be consumed. The burn ached at times whenever he moved his hand even a tiny bit. He drank one more sip of the alcohol quickly as if trying to let go of the pain that so easily seared its way back into his senses, making him feel both alive and human once again.

And why wouldn't it, anyway?

She had been so close to him today, the only source of his life. Close yet farthest away from him. He closed his eyes, the look of confusion on her face at his sight too clear to him as if it had been carved ruthlessly in his thoughts that set his heart aflame with an agony he had felt only once before. He took a deep breath as though to keep the old memories away as the heavy gust of them suddenly scorched back their zeal to him, making him relive a glorious past that was as good as the History textbooks now. She wouldn't remember she'd seen him, he pondered and hoped, for making her realize his presence wasn't his intention. Not now anyway, and not like this.

The visit, though, to the GR Groups' office had not completely been in vain, for apart from saving Ishani today, he had also come to realize the GR brothers were as useless as a gun without a trigger for his mission. And he did not certainly need them, however pampering were their pleads for the job.

RV never played it easy, and had hoped their previous association with the Parekhs would show them the right path, but people often chose to ignore the most crucial warnings when their time was drawing near, and that was the folly that they had done, and had paid the appropriate price as well. RV smiled to himself. The game was on. For the first time in life, the destiny had presented its rewards in his favor for the wait he had to go through all these years, and the first step was one of the evidences of that.

Half was done by the destiny itself today, and rest Puneet will do by the remaining day.

RV finished the alcohol in his glass, continuously trying to efface her image that only intensified as he felt his feet crumble on the floor, him taking hold of the windowpane nearby for support. It was happening again. Her memories. And the pain surfacing above once again.

"No... no..." he whispered to himself as he made his way to the table where the remaining bottle of the wine stood. But he stared at it as his mother's words returned back to him.

"Don't ever lose yourself in pain too much, Ranveer. Please don't drink so much," she had said when he'd missed Ishani so much that day and had returned home badly drunk. RV turned away from the bottle, struggling insanely with the volatile emotions that threatened to engulf him in the swirling abyss of pain that would fade away only at the mild sensation of the intoxicating liquid in his mouth. But he couldn't do it again; not the cost of the promise made to his late mother. He walked towards the bed quietly and clumsily fell upon the edge and the rest was a faint memory.

Ishani stood at the balcony, staring at the darkness below that personified her own feelings that refused to rest after the chaos of the entire day. She had fainted again just like all the times before and the cause had been only him.

The pain hadn't lessened in anyway and nor did the uneasiness that sprouted up from the most unreasonable evaluations. She could still feel everything going right in front of her, the fire, and the screams as everyone else had run away for their lives, and she... her eyes had fallen upon him as she had tried to escape the room. Painful coldness being reflected back to her helplessness as she had struggled to keep her eyes open and fixed on his fading being. She did not remember much, but someone had lifted her while she had still struggled to see her savior's face but in vain, for a dark cloud had shrouded her vision right at the moment. There was a strange familiarity about the person but when her eyes had opened, she was in the hospital and Sharman had informed Chirag had rescued her. As soon as Ishani had reached home, Chirag had come as well with a bouquet of her favorite flowers and had apologized for not being able to see her for so long in these weeks. He worked hard to achieve what he wanted, and that's why she loved him so much.

"Ishani!" A voice from behind interrupted her thoughts and she looked back. Gauri stood there, a soft smile on her lips which failed to hide away the pain that her eyes explicitly revealed. She moved forward as Ishani smiled back.

"Gauri di! I was waiting for you," Ishani answered, making Gauri sit on the bed comfortably. "What did the doctor say?"

Gauri smiled sadly, but a glint shimmered through the depth of her eyes. "All is fine," she said. "Few more days, and I can get back to my normal routine."

Pain flickered in Ishani's eyes as she stared at her sister's worn out face that once glowed with the liveliness of life and hope, but its dullness today shattered the remaining courage that she tried to hold back in all the chaos she was going through. What had happened to their family all of a sudden that everything had fallen apart within months? If her father's accident wasn't enough to break them all after being overthrown from their own house and properties, the tragedy of Gauri had done the rest. In the absence of her father, the family was already falling apart, all trying their own ideas that they all knew would never work but they continued all the same. Ordinary disagreements slowly turned into disputes, disputes into dislikes for each other until people won't even talk to each other anymore. And at the same time the tragedy had struck Gauri as well. And she was still struggling with the consequences of it.

After whatever had happened, Baa was not ready to keep her in her house, other family members had refused as well, only Falguni and Mitesh agreeing to keep accept her in their houses but others refusing to do so had not helped in any way. No one had listened to the pleads of the children of the family and Gauri, for everyone's sake, had decided to shift back to Delhi where she had stayed before coming to Mumbai before her marriage.

"Where are you lost?" Gauri asked Ishani who suddenly wiped away her tears and smiled at her.

"Nothing. Nothing," Ishani lied. "You are staying here for this week, aren't you?" Gauri never stayed for more than two days, but the appointments with doctor made Ishani hopeful.

"No, I have asked Mr. Bhatt, and I can continue the treatment from Delhi itself from now on. I won't be coming this frequently anymore."

Ishani looked at her, trying to smile at the attempts her sister made to stay away from the family. "You can do all this for Baa, but nothing for us?"

Gauri looked away. "Ishani, try to understand please. If not you, who will understand this better than you?"

Ishani shook her head. "I know, but can't we even meet now?"

Gauri laughed lightly and nodded her head, but Ishani wished the laughter could reach her eyes as well. "Ishani, we will meet each other. Don't worry. But time of my departure is drawing near right now."

"What time?"

"The train is in the next two hours. I must be off already, Ishani." She stood up suddenly looked at Ishani as if recalled something she had forgotten until now, and rushing to her bag, produced a little rectangular packet and handed it over to Ishani. "This is something I needed to let you know about, Ishani, before I left. Will you please take care of it until we meet again?"

Ishani nodded her head. "But what is it?"

"That needs time to discuss and we don't have it right now. Also, I will need some more time before I can talk about this." Gauri smiled weakly while Ishani nodded her head.

"When are we meeting again?"

"Soon enough, Ishani. I need to go. Sharman will be waiting for me." She kissed Ishani on the forehead and urged her to stay back and take rest as she wasn't fit enough to stroll about the place so far. Bidding her sister a warm goodbye, Ishani returned back to the bed and sighed as the events from the day disturbed her once again, mostly Gauri's troubles that never came to an end since last many months. However, Ishani had learnt her lessons, and while sleep finally began to steal over her with the dreams that never left a chance to haunt the late hours of her slumber, a tear fell from her eye with a silent prayer of never seeing the same fate that her sister did. And Baa's cruel predictions never coming true. Only if an angel could replace the darkness from her life for a while...

"But, grandpa, why aren't the Princess and Prince meeting each other?" Ishani whined, her eyes sparkling with an annoyed curiosity that managed to usher him out of his thoughts and he looked at her, surprised.

He smiled and lifted the child in his lap gracefully. "There is always a right time for everything, child. And our Princess and Prince will meet when the time comes."

The child looked confused, but chose to ask another question instead. "They know each other already?"

"Of course they do."

"How did they meet then, grandpa? Do you know that?"

A wistful look passed through his eyes. "I know everything." His trembling voice tried to hide a painful bitterness that crept into his heart suddenly at the words he had just said, but years of experience had taught him to suppress the wrong emotions at the right time that would do him no good.

"Grandpa," Ishani asked again, now looking at him curiously once again. "What happened then?"

He looked down and sighed. How did they meet? Another horde of the long lost memories daunted his senses as he closed his eyes for a while to reminisce all that had happened all those years ago.

"Grandpa." Ishani stirred him by his shoulder harshly, and he opened his eyes, smiling solemnly. That impatient girl! Completely like the woman she was named after.

"Wait, Ishani," he requested while the child rolled her eyes at him. And as he finally travelled back in that lost lane of the memories, the first thought hitting him back was marriage.

"Marriage?" Ishani's voice jerked him out of his thoughts, surprising him that he had said the word aloud.

"Yes. It was the day of the Marriage." He smiled before taking the little child on the same journey that still had its relics carved in his aging memory with the same vivacity as all those years ago. And that certainly had changed something in him.

I hope I haven't missed anything for now. Uh! Will check in soon.