The Storm was raging outside, just like the emotions inside himself. Om stared outside at the thunder splitting the sky, the rumbling echoing through his heart, the lighting that split the sky cast his face into relief, brightly lit for a few seconds before being replaced by darkness. His left hand was gripping the window sill, the knuckles white with the tension. His mind, his heart in a turmoil, like the lashing rain outside, relentless in its downpour.
He had to be shaken out of his stupor, so deep was his withdrawal from his current surroundings. He jolted back to earth, to find the tiny hands of Gauri, holding his right palm tightly and calling his name, Omkaraji, Omkaraji'. Her eyes looked worried and filled with something more, more than he could decipher at this moment.
He gazed at her silently and wordlessly, his eyes revealing his turmoil. Gauri gently cradled his face in her hands and whispered softly, Tell me Omkaraji, what is on your mind? I know that something is bothering you a lot, is it ... ?' Her voice trailed off, when she saw Om give her a look filled with agony. 'Ma, is the first word ever uttered by a child and she is everything to me. My mother has been through a lot in life. You know, she was the one who encouraged me to pick up a brush and paint. I recall when I won the first prize in school, in an art exhibition. I ran home to share the news, bursting with joy. My papa was at home and instead of congratulating me, he began to berate me of choosing a useless pursuit, that would not help me run the Oberoi empire. I was so heartbroken as I felt that I had found my interests. It was my mother Jhanvi who came later and consoled me, encouraged me to continue. She told me she would deal with papa. She covered for me when I went to art class, telling me to follow my dreams. As I grew older, I saw the pain in her eyes whenever she saw papa leave on a business trip or when Svetlana came home on the pretext of work. As papa kept away longer and longer from home, Ma took to the bottle.. I broke down completely when I saw her the first time, passed out in her room, with a bottle on the floor. I could not deal with her or with papa, whom I began to hate for he made all of us unhappy while he pursued his pleasure.
Om paused for a moment and then continued his outpourings to Gauri, who now stood closely to him, while his arms were clasped loosely around her tiny waist. I began to hate my papa with a passion as he only cared about the business and Svetlana. He could not see that my mother was suffering, in constant pain seeing him with another woman. You know why she became like that, because of Love', love Gauri. It made her sad, angry with life, disappointed at herself as she was unable to leave papa and go back home. She gave Rudra and me all the love and affection due to us, continuing to stay at OM, being the ever dutiful wife and bahu.
Gauri's eyes filled with tears and began flowing unchecked down her alabaster cheeks. She could feel the pain that Omkaraji was undergoing, having been a witness to the scenes earlier. She tried to piece together the events that unfolded.
Om continued, shifting closer to her, resting his head on hers... inhaling the fragrant hair, the scent that was Gauri. He felt something stir in him, a new nameless feeling that made him high and despair. He was afraid, afraid of losing his heart to this woman who stood in his arms, his own beacon of hope when he was in darkness, who surrounded his life in colors with her warmth, her spirit and chatter.
He whispered in her ear, I am afraid, afraid of loving someone so much that they have the power to hurt you, ruin you. I never wanted to feel that, what my mother felt for my papa. It was her love for him that retained her at this house, her selfishness at having glimpses of him even if he did not care or love her back equally. That and dadi's tears held her a prisoner in this house. I could not believe that papa returned to her, throwing that WOMAN out of the house. What if he felt that way again for Svetlana? Did you see how Happy my mother was, she was smiling for the first time in a long long while, never seen her this happy. I am afraid that she might get betrayed again by my papa. How can I forget or forgive him for what he has done to us?
He saw her cheeks were wet with tears and moved to wipe them, brushing off the tears from her soft cheeks, that felt like the finest silk. His hand faltered, his breath hitched and wanted to kiss those rose lips that were mere inches away from him. He could not fall a prey to his emotions, ruthlessly tamping down the need to crush those lips under his own, drinking from her like his very life depended on it.
Om moved away abruptly, shaking off Gauri's hands and turned his back on her. Gauri stood quietly, waiting for the storm raging in Om to die down. As suddenly as it began, so did the storm die down outside, when the air was still, the rain ceasing to pelt the windows that stood open. Om turned around, saw Gauri standing, waiting for him to continue. His mind cleared, inching closer to Gauri, I need time to sort out my feelings for you. You know I care, don't you? Just that I cannot give anyone the power to hurt me like my dad hurt my Ma.'
Gauri shook her head, said I have vishwas in Shankarji. He has always been my guide, my strength and now too, he is OUR shakti, I am positive he will set things right. Have faith in him. Your parents have been through a lot, give them some time and space to come closer to each other. I will take care of the house and help dadi, not to worry. If not, there is always Internet chachi to help me. You focus on your paintings and sculptures as you have another exhibition coming up.' She gave him a sweet smile and turned to walk out of the room, thinking to herself that she will wait for her Om, just like Parvati waited for Lord Shiva to come to her.
My first ever drabble on Rikara.
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