Chapter 1
Om woke with a start. He had been having that very same dream every night for about a year now and he never really could make sense of any of it. He had once read somewhere that the mind cannot make up faces of people on its own. So every face that you dream of is someone you've already met. That was strange. With his artistic inclinations, if he'd ever seen those eyes before, he would have surely remembered them. But he was sure he had never met this mirage of a woman before. He absentmindedly picked up a piece of charcoal and started sketching on a blank canvas. When the logical mind gave him no answers, he always found peace in the chaos of his art. As strokes, lines and curves met, fused and parted on his canvas, her eyes came to life. Her face remained incomplete, for he could only see her eyes each time. The rest of her features eluded him and he sighed as he tossed the piece of charcoal onto his art table before gathering his clothes to go freshen up.
The sight he met when he came down for breakfast was something he had unfortunately gotten used to. His parents were having another fight and the rest of the family was standing as helpless spectators. It took him less than a minute to figure out what today's fight was about. Mr. Tej Singh Oberoi, his father, had went and bought a new bed for his mother, Jahnvi Singh Oberoi, because he refused to share a bed with her. It was public knowledge that Tej was having an affair with his secretary, Svetlana and he'd been pressurizing Jahnvi to give him a divorce. Jahnvi Singh Oberoi had been a strong, rational woman in her time. But now, her husband's adultery had turned her into a broken, alcoholic who was insistent that she still loved Tej and would not divorce him. Needless to say, Om did not have very favorable opinions regarding either of his parents or their perspectives on love and marriage. Ignoring the assembly in the main hall, he quietly walked over to the dining table and sat down to eat.
His parents' yelling reached fevered pitches and in the midst of their yelling, he heard his daadi's feeble voice, "Stop it you two! Just stop it! Knowing that he should spare his daadi from this torture, Om got up from his chair and headed out. He was back in a few minutes, smiling as he approached his parents.
"Om! Look at this man! Look at what he has done! He has bought me a bed because he says he won't sleep in the same bed as me! Can there be anything more humiliating than this? Jahnvi clung to Om's arm as she complained.
"Ask her to give me a divorce. Then she has no need to suffer the humiliation, came Tej's reply.
Om gently pried Jahnvi's hands off his arm and walked towards the bed with a devious smile on his face. In the blink of an eye, he pulled out the axe he had been hiding behind his back and hacked away at the bed, tearing it into pieces.
When he was satisfied by the destruction he had caused, he wiped imaginary sweat off his brow and turned to his parents, his fake smile still in place. "Now that that issue has been solved, can we go eat some breakfast? he asked, tossing the axe to a corner, wiping the dust off his hands and heading back to the dining table.
"Oh yes, and Mom! He turned back towards his parents, who just like the rest of his family stood agape. "To answer your question, yes, there is something more humiliating than Dad buying you a new bed. It is both of you making a mockery of your marriage in front of the family and the world on a daily basis. Dad, I bet Svetlana helped you pick out this bed, right? What newspaper do you think will carry news of Mr. & Mrs. Oberoi's bedroom secrets today? I am thinking it's going to be the Mumbai News. Or maybe Svetlana has upped her game, you never know. You might want to scroll through some news channels on TV. Who knows, you might catch some footage of Svetlana and your highness coming out of some furniture store hand in hand. And if you are lucky enough they might just have a half an hour analysis on what kind of bed you must've bought considering your age, stamina and what not.
"OMKARA!! Tej Singh Oberoi thundered. Om did not even flinch. With a glare that matched and surpassed that of his dad's, Om stormed into his studio and slammed the door shut.
Precisely two minutes later, he heard a knock on his door. He did not even have to ask who it was. "Come in, he muttered, his hands balled into fists in his pockets as he tried to calm himself down. Omkara Singh Oberoi seldom got mad but when he did, his fury knew no bounds. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath just as he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he opened his eyes, Shivaay and Rudra were standing on either side of him. He always drew strength from his brothers. They were what truly defined family for him.
"Are you okay? Shivaay asked. Om nodded his head.
"I think you need a break, Om he suggested gently. "I agree with Shivaay bhaiyya, Rudra chimed in. "I can't. What would I do going on a vacation without the two of you, Om replied. "What do you mean you can't? I have exams and Shivaay bhaiyya has a business deal to crack, or we would have dragged you on a vacation with us, Rudra said. "Om, look! You just finished an exhibition and you have a break now. Take the break. Go somewhere. Just, away from all of this, Shivaay said, "I am worried about you. I know you have trouble expressing your true emotions to anyone. But this outburst you just had downstairs, I think you are about to hit your limit. You need to take your mind off all of this and go somewhere.
Om was about to reply but his phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw the name flashing on the screen. He did not answer and tossed the phone on to his bed. "Who was it? Shivaay asked. "Nothing important, Om replied. "Come on, O. When did you start keeping secrets from us? Rudy asked pouting. "Its not a secret, you duffer, Om replied, whacking the back of Rudra's head, making him yelp in pain. "Remember I told you guys at my last exhibition in Delhi, this guy came up to me and asked me if I'd be willing to make a portrait of the Maharaja of Ratangarh? "Oh yeah! Was he the one calling? Shivaay asked. "Yeah. I told him then and there that I don't do portraits and personal paintings, but he just won't let up. He was going on and on about how the Raja, some Kaali Thakur guy, would have me stay at the palace while I work on the painting and that I wouldn't have to worry about the money and what not. He just doesn't get it, Om replied.
"This is it, O! Rudy exclaimed. "What? Om asked him. "You should totally take this assignment. This could be the break you need! Rudy explained. "I hate to say this, but for once, Rudy has a valid point, Shivaay chimed in. Om shook his head to disagree but Rudy had already started building castles in the air, "Imagine O, a huge palace, pretty maids at your service 24x7, feeding you grapes by the bunch right into your mouth, exclusive dancers brought in just to entertain you.. Rudy's musings were brought to a halt by another whack on the back of his head. "Idiot! This isn't the 15th century. The Raja, Maharajas of today are just for namesake. I am sure its some old man still hanging on to the tag of royalty in this day and age, Om commented. "Kya O, you ruined my beautiful dream, Rudy said, plopping down on the bed.
The moment Rudy said beautiful dream, Om was once again reminded of those eyes he had been dreaming about. What if Shivaay was right? What if he was really hitting his limit and that was why he had started having such strange dreams. Maybe Shivaay was right. It was time to take a break.
As if on cue, his phone rang again. Rudy beat him to it and answered the phone. "Hello? Yes, yes. I am Omakara Singh Oberoi's manager, Khanna. I am sorry, Sir is in a very important meeting right now. He asked me to let you know that he would love to make the portrait of your Maharajaji. And he would like to stay at the palace while working on it. Sure, sure. You can go ahead and make arrangements for his travel and stay. Thank you!
"What the hell was that, Rudra? Om asked. "What the hell nahin.. Thank you bolo, thank you, Rudy said and before Om could say anything else, Rudy tossed the phone to Om and ran out the door.
"I guess you better start packing, Om, Shivaay said, patting his shoulder. Om sighed in defeat as he turned towards his closet. "I have a feeling this trip is going to do you good, Shivaay added. Om simply rolled his eyes and pulled out his duffle bag to start packing.
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