Of Crimes and Punishments (PriVeer OS)

ACP Ranveer Singh Randhawa stumbled out of the joint. The cool night air hit his flushed face. He staggered towards the edge of the pavement. Light from the passing cars struck his eyes, making him squint. The light also revealed the brown orbs, turning them to a shade of autumnal gold. The tall lithe figure drew glances from many of the nighttime strollers. However, despite his evident lack of sobriety, there was something forbidding in him that made the thieves looking for an easy mark hold themselves back. As Randhawa stood, leaning dangerously towards the road, a car drew up before him.

Pandey quickly got out and held the door open for the officer. This was getting to be almost a daily routine and the driver was a quick learner. In the two months since he had been assigned to this young police officer, he had watched him work like a man on a mission all day, making the whole department quake at his very presence. But each night before heading home, he would inevitably stop at a bar and then emerge senseless to the world. The ancient driver wondered how come the man never showed the ravages of the night before on his face the next day when he turned up for work. Young blood, the driver mused to himself as he weaved his way through the Mumbai traffic. Now he would take the ACP to his home as usual.

"Juhu Art Centre chalo', came a rasping order from the backseat. Pandey was surprised but experience had taught him to hide his emotions.

"Jee sahib', he replied with a faint nod.

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Priyanka Singh Oberoi was attending the opening of her brother's art exhibition. The entire Oberoi family was there save her Dad. Anyone who was a who's who in the city had turned up as well along with the paparazzi. More than an art exhibition, this was an Oberoi event and hence the crowd of expensively clad socialites had gathered to spend an evening discussing what they thought of art over sparkling champagne. Despite O Bhaiya's best intentions, this was unavoidable.

Priyanka lingered in the shadows, trying to stay away from the crowd and the cameras. However, this state of things were not to last for long and soon a clamour arose for the artist to pose with his family. Priyanka would have stayed away but Choti Ma was insistent that she join in. Moreover the exhibition being dedicated to her had gotten the press even more interested in hounding the usually reticent Priyanka Singh Oberoi with requests for comments or photos. Soon her world turned to one of blinding flashes. After a while of that, the reporters broke rank and attacked the different members of her family in smaller groups. Noticing their momentary distraction, Priyanka quickly turned and walked out of the hall.

The lawn outside was relatively empty. Some straddlers lingered there, drawn by the warm sea breeze and the twinkling fairylights strung from the trees that Priyanka had been so excited about earlier that evening. The lawn was crisscrossed by a cobbled pathway that ended in a flight of stairs that led down to the beach. On either side of the staircase, was a railing to demarcate the end of the lawn. She walked up to the railing and looked out at the dark ocean. The breeze calmed her nerves. Her mind was full of the paintings that her brother had created with her in mind. She felt a sense of peace that she had not in a while.

On first seeing those paintings, she had felt as if a hand had reached out towards her through the darkness that imprisoned her soul. For someone who had felt isolated in her misery for so long, that sense of being seen and understood had woven the seed of something new within her. Priyanka was still uncertain of what that something was but she felt more hopeful about the future than she had since that fateful night.

*****************

Pandey pulled up the car a little distance away from the art centre. There seemed to be some event going on and a long line of cars were ahead of him. The line of cars inched forward slowly. Behind him, the young officer stirred in the dark.

"Have we reached, Pandey?" he asked, stretching in his seat.

"Bas pohuchne waale hai, sahib. Thoda traffic hai aagey. Sab log gate pe utar rahe hai, shayad," the old driver replied.

In response, there was some scrabbling in the dark and then the door swung open.

"Park the car somewhere. I'll call you in a while." the ACP told him before getting out of the car. Pandey watched the young man stumble before straightening himself up and head towards the art centre.

****************

ACP Randhawa felt more sober than he had in years. As his eyes travelled across the walls, moving from frame to frame, he felt vulnerable in a way he hadn't allowed himself to be in a long time. He hadn't come here to get a dose of art but still the very first painting that he came across had made him stop in his tracks and stare. Then as he had turned to the next he had found it again. And again. Wall to wall, frame to frame, in crimson, grey, brown, blue, black, in portraits of faces, of landscapes, of empty fields and hollow masks, across the room, what he saw was a documentation of the pain that he lived through each day. The pain of the unspoken apologies, the abandoned promises, the sheer indifference of the world to a loss that he relived each night. The pain of having to go on with a mask of nonchalance on his face as if a part of his heart had not been ripped off. The pain of never getting the chance to tell her he was sorry for judging her, for not standing by her when she had been rendered an outcast by everyone she had been close to. The pain of letting his own ego get in the way of his love for her. The pain of a life destroyed before it could achieve any of the dreams, wishes or hopes the heart had cherished.

Ranveer Singh Randhawa had not faced his pain so brutally in years. He stumbled out into the lawn, his mind a bedlam of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Omkara Singh Oberoi had dedicated the collection to his sister. And he had poured out such familiar pain into canvas after canvas. How? The question echoed in the caverns of Randhawa's mind. Where was room for such pain in the lives of these Oberois? His eyes spotted a familiar figure at the edge of the lawn. Despite his misgivings, he found his feet carrying him towards her. The face of the monster that haunted his nightmares and the muse to her brother's essay in self-consuming grief.

***************

Priyanka felt his presence even before she had turned to face him. Ever since the devastating confession he had unleashed upon her, she had not stopped thinking about this man. She had been at war with her self as she had tried to process his revelation. She had hoped to find a way out of this tortuous labyrinth that destiny had woven for her before she faced him again. But now as she stood before this man, she felt unprepared to face the burden of his loss even as it pulled at the darkness she carried within her. Even as his eyes bore into her and his face curled into the sneer she had grown familiar with, the moment felt unreal.

Ranveer watched her. His eyes were drawn to the hands that fidgeted with the ends of the dupatta. His gaze followed the slender arms that disappeared behind the pale material of her dress and landed on the slim contours of her neck. Then with a wrench he finally turned his eyes to look at her face. The pale cheeks and the startled eyes made him feel like he was looking at a creature of the wilderness, ready to bound away with one wrong move from his end. He took a tentative step towards her and then another. And the next thing he knew, he had captured her between his arms and the railing. Then he looked into those eyes, seeking the pain he had seen so extravagantly displayed in the paintings.

Priyanka felt that her heart would stop. Randhawa had made it impossible for her to flee by caging her with his hands. She leaned back against the railing as he unabashedly looked at her. Accustomed to being in the sidelines, left to her own devices, such open scrutiny had her whole being in turmoil. She tried to return the gaze but it was an impossible task. She found her gaze slipping even as she tried to fight the weakness within her. Her pale cheeks were now red with a blush that had crept in unbeknownst to her.

She knew the man who stood before her was not the cold, collected and calculating ACP she had encountered till now. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a desperation in the way he had not hesitated to capture her thus.

"I shouldn't have come." he said, softly as his eyes continued their search. Priyanka could smell the alcohol on his breath now. She waited for the customary disgust for alcohol that a lifetime of training from her Dadi had instilled in her. However, instead her mother's face rose before her. Jahnvi Singh Oberoi, bruised and hurting, making alcohol the substitute for the companion that life had taken away from her. She felt a choking sob making its way out as she thought of the hopelessness of the situation, at the darkness that destiny had created for them both and she wanted to cry out at the unfairness of it all. She closed her eyes to stop the unruly tears and waited for the darkness to engulf her.

A hand was on her cheek, inexpertly wiping away the trail of tears as they eased down her face. Startled, Priyanka opened her eyes and watched the ACP remove his hand with a look of confusion on his face. She stared at his fingertips still wet with her tears. His eyes followed her gaze. Both of them studied the glistening tear drops. Neither spoke.
Priyanka was free to leave but she stayed rooted to the spot. He turned back towards her.

"Did I make you cry, Ms. Oberoi?" he said.

In reply, Priyanka looked away as more tears threatened to spill out. She did not want this man to see her so break down.

"Do you know what it's like to hate someone so much that it is that hatred alone that makes you breathe?" he spoke almost as if he was talking to himself. His eyes now were looking over her head at the black ocean behind her. "When that hatred becomes your reason to wake up each morning and go on through the day like everything is normal."

Priyanka stood as his words, spoken with such bitterness, dried her tears. She had every reason to leave, to walk away. But she wanted to hear what lay in his soul. The moment, though with a tone of unreality in it, strangely felt of grave importance. She couldn't afford to leave.

"I knew I hated you even before I met you." Randhawa's eyes were now back on her face. "You had become the face to the monsters in my nightmares." Randhawa raised a hand as he spoke. He brought it to her face, gently cupping it. His eyes softened as he looked at her. "And then I met you." he went on.

Priyanka couldn't stop the sob from escaping this time. Tears coursed down her cheeks and she gasped as she let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding in.

"It's not that I saw you then",he said with a bitter chuckle. "I only saw that monster who had to be punished."

As he spoke, he engulfed her in his arms, hugging her with tenderness. As if all the restraints had been removed, Priyanka cried in his arms with utter abandon while he stroked her head in an odd gesture of comfort.

"It would have been better if I hadn't known you", said Randhawa softly as Priyanka's sobs subsided. He didn't release her from the embrace and she oddly relaxed in his arms, listening to his words. From a distance, the two would have looked like a pair of lovers. But Randhawa did not speak sweet nothings into her ears and Priyanka knew this was no Prince Charming who held her.

"I wanted to go on hating you. To punish you. But these days, I am finding it so hard."

Priyanka felt the sigh as it escaped him more than hearing it.

"And today, I see you, Miss Oberoi. I don't want to. But I do." Priyanka eased herself out of the embrace now. Randhawa's arms dropped to his side. "Those paintings.." he now paused as if embarrassed to continue.

"I have no reason to trust you" she said, finally breaking her silence. "But I feel myself wanting to."

As she raised her face to look at him, she found him watching her. Unfamiliar as she was to such attention being bestowed on her, Priyanka realised that this was a man who really saw her. Not as the society lady, calm and elegant, if a bit shy, Miss Priyanka Singh Oberoi, but the tortured shell of a person,disfigured by a past that held her in chains.

"You shouldn't trust me." he said, with a faint echo of his customary smirk.

"I know," she replied. She looked away from him, turning back towards the ocean. "After O Bhaiya showed me those paintings, for the first time in a very long time, I felt at peace. Somehow, my artist brother, despite his quiet ways, had known exactly what I was going through. He helped me understand my own pain and that brought me closer to accepting it as a part of my life."

Randhawa crumpled down as her words washed over him. He sat on one of the steps leading down to the beach. Priyanka came and sat beside him, taking his hand in hers, weaving her fingers through his.

"If you hated me, you were fortunate. You had someone you could hate. I hated myself. You wanted to punish me. That gave you a reason to live. I wanted to and did punish myself. I had every reason to die, to end this."

Randhawa's hand tightened around hers. She pressed back in response and went on. "I was never afraid to face the consequences of my actions. But the truth is never black and white, is it?"

Randhawa turned his head towards her.

"The accident was not my fault and that is the truth. It was not an accident but a suicide."

Randhawa wrenched his hand away from hers and ran his hands through his hair agitatedly. An anguished moan escaped him and Priyanka raised her hand to comfort him but then stopped. His pain was his alone and he needed to work through it on his own.

She looked away as he hid his face in his palms. She didn't want to see him so broken.

"And I know now, that you feel the same. Somehow, those paintings have managed to capture exactly how you feel. It's like my artist brother has seen you too."

"He sent me an invite." Randhawa spoke. His voice almost a whisper. "I didn't even want to come. And I wish I hadn't."

Priyanka smiled at that. Randhawa continued. "I hated you when I should have hated myself."

Priyanka stared fixedly at the black waves crowned in white crashing on the sand. But all her senses were tuned towards him. She soaked in his words, his silences, his sighs.

Randhawa continued, "We had a fight that evening. She was my everything ever since our parents passed away. And then she went and got..." He paused and reached his hand towards her.

It was now his turn to place his hand in hers. Together they sat on the steps, leaning into each other, beneath the starry night sky and with the sound of the ocean surrounding them. Ranveer spoke haltingly, with a sense of release and Priyanka sat listening with her heart bleeding. Two tormented souls facing their demons together.

"She had the child despite everything I could do or say to convince her otherwise. And I thought she was so stubborn, so heartless that she would not listen to me, her brother. I never realized that every moment was a struggle for her. I thought she was strong never realizing that she was at her weakest then. That night we had a fight. It was nothing unusual. And she ran out and never came back."

***********************

Pandey pulled up at the gate of the art center. Sahib stood there with a lady beside him. They didn't speak to or even look at each other. But when the police officer turned to get in the car, he reached a hand out towards her. She took it and pressed it tightly even as her eyes glistened. He got in and slumped into his seat. The lady looked at the ancient driver and said with a grim smile, "Take him home."

As Pandey drove he wondered about the lady. Was she the reason for his sahib's nightly drinking habits? He smelled a case of unrequited love and wondered if she was married to another man. Must be that, the driver thought to himself. Poor sahib, he sighed.