Shakti Singh Oberoi
It is not often that I need to read the riot act to my grown-up sons. The task is never pleasant, especially when I agree with their outrage. But the way they went about it is what irks me. What happened at the engagement should have been avoided.
This is not the first time the press has baited us. It comes with the job and I have hoped that my family has gotten used to it by now. But apparently that is not true. I am frustrated at the unwanted attention myself. I hate the fact that Gauri is pulled into the mess. But this is no way to handle the press. It takes my press secretary an entire afternoon to assuage broken egos of the reporters from the main news channels. The police department has very few friends. We cannot afford to lose the ones we do have due to personal gaffes.
Omkara leaves the room, unapologetic, his head held high, without offering any excuse. He maintains that he will do the same again given the same circumstances. I am not surprised by that. I dismiss him from my office and he walks out after giving me a salute.
"You are happy he did what he did yesterday.
Shivaay's calm voice breaks my reverie. I look at him and he holds my gaze steadily, almost challenging me to tell him otherwise. When I don't reply, he smiles.
"Have it your way. Be secretive. But I will be frank. I think Om was being too polite to the press. He has always been cranky about the press, but his outburst yesterday for warranted. It also makes me believe that he is truly trying to make his relationship with Gauri work. At one point, I was afraid he was being forced into this relationship.
I chuckle at the not too subtle hint that I forced Om into the engagement. Shivaay is nothing if not fiercely protective of his brothers.
"Omkara wasn't forced.
I can see that he is satisfied at my pronouncement and we move on to other topics of importance. As my Law and Order ACP, he gives me the most recent updates from the city.
"We have increased patrol during the nights. There is a marked change and the petty crimes are steadily decreasing but there is still room for improvement. I will come up with an action plan before our next meeting.
I go over his numbers. Shivaay is very thorough. There are some recommendations I have for him and we wrap up the meeting after that.
He stands up, waiting to be dismissed from my presence. On my orders, he salutes and starts to leave the room. But then comes back.
"Dad
I look up surprised. Shivaay never calls me dad, not in the office. None of my sons do. They do not mix personal and professional relationships. This is surely something serious for Shivaay to break protocol.
"I don't think yesterday was an anomaly. I accept that there has been hostility from the press before but yesterday felt pre-planned.
I nod thoughtfully, acknowledging his words. Mishra walks in just then. Shivaay conceals his irritation at being disturbed and smiles at Mishra. With a final nod at me, he leaves. We will pick up this conversation later.
I lean back in my chair thinking, as Mishra goes about setting up his laptop. Not for the first time, I am amazed at how perceptive Shivaay is. I have my own doubts regarding what happened yesterday at the press conference and my concerns are based on a solid foundation. I am privy to information that Shivaay does not have. Shivaay suspects, but I know, someone is surely waging an attack, manipulating the press, creating bad PR against my family. If my gut is right, this is just the start. We are in for a long haul.
Gauri
I peep outside the classroom quickly to see if I can spot any camera carrying journalist standing nearby. I don't see any, but I am sure they are lurking somewhere close. I pop back in and then wait until I count ten before I repeat the check again.
It has been a week since my engagement. I feel like I am now more popular than the reality TV star currently on Big Boss. Every newspaper, every magazine, has printed, what according to them is my life history, some true, some imagined. I am portrayed as a modern day Cindrella in some. There are some that says I am just a gold digger. There are those with the conspiracy theories. A few that vicious attack the Oberois and call me their pawn. I am slowly learning to ignore them all.
It is fun in the beginning. Omkara warns me that it will soon be worse. He is right. I am given no privacy. I cannot go anywhere without being asked a question or two or have my picture snapped. It becomes dangerous as those who work with me and my students are also harassed. Finally, Omkara gets a gag order on the press and we are given some relief.
The madness has subsided, but, I have this feeling that I am never alone, that I am being followed everywhere I go. I dismiss it as a figment of my imagination there is a nagging feeling in my heart that won't go away. I want to tell someone but I think about everything that is going on and decide to wait. This is surely just my overactive thinking. All this attention is new to me. I have been a wallpaper all my life. If you don't look closely, you will miss me in a crowd of three people. Now suddenly, I am being followed, pestered as though every single thing I do matters. I am the center of attention. It is very uncomfortable.
In all this, Omkara and Di have both been a rock. They check up on me constantly, hear to my rants, assure me. They tell me I am doing good. That gives me some confidence. However, the fear of taking a misstep and causing bigger issues for the Oberois remains constant.
I check one more time before making a dash to the cab out front. Fortunately, no camera flashes are seen. It seems like I have escaped one more time. I ask the cab driver to take the shortest route to my hostel. I am in a hurry as Di is in my room, waiting.
In your room. Come asap.' Her message a while ago is crisp. I am filled with foreboding. Is something wrong?
I run upstairs to my room ignoring the stares in the common room. My hostel mates do not talk to me normally now. They either try to steer the conversation about the Oberois or gawk at me. I miss the usual chatter in the hallway, the gossip in the common room. Now I am the one they gossip about. Well... I feel a slight pang of sorrow, and I brush it aside. I don't have any close friends here. All girls are working women who have families. We had little or no time to interact anyway. The fleeting feeling of sorrow vanishes and I remember why I am hurrying back to my room. I take the stairs two steps at the time until I reach my door.
Only to stop abruptly. I see Pinky aunty first. She is sitting at the desk in the corner, re-arranging the papers nervously. Annika Di is right there, walking around the room, looking at the dolls and figurines placed to make the dreary place a little more appealing.
They probably heard me for Pinky aunty looks up and sees me at the door. She breaks into a wide smile.
"Gauri beta, you are back.
She hugs me telling me that she missed me. My eyes fill with tears and I quickly rub them away, lest one of them notices.
"Hey, me too. Me too. Di joins in and I am enclosed between them from both ends. We stand there, hugging each other happily and all my unwanted fears and the pang of loneliness from before dissipates.
Finally, we break off the hug. Anika di sits on the only chair in the room while I sit beside Pinky aunty on the bed.
"Can we get to business, mom? They are all waiting at home. Om has messaged me thrice already. Di says in a loud whisper. She grins at me, flashing her thumbs up.
What's happening?
Pinky aunty looks at Di, smiles and then takes my hand in hers.
"Gauri beta, there is something we want to ask you. Under normal circumstances, I would not have insisted, but with everything that is going on, I want to make sure that you understand why I am asking you this.
Normal circumstances? I am confused. Those fears I just managed to push back, rear their head again.
"Mom, you are frightening her. See how tensed she is. Just ask her.
I look down at my hand held in hers and then look up to see her face. She is smiling.
"Gauri, I want you to come home. Your marriage should happen from the place your family is at, not here. I know the marriage is four months away, but time will fly. There is so much to do. I want to take you home and pamper my daughter a little before marriage.
"I don't understand., I manage to say.
Is she telling me to go home with her, to Oberoi Mansion, forever, right now?
"Ri, just pack everything and come home. It will be so much fun. We can plan the marriage together and mom can pamper us both, right mom?
Pinky aunty nods and playfully hits Di in her hand.
I look up at Di's eager, happy face and then back to Pinky aunty's kind one. She is looking at me, waiting for my answer.
"Come with us beta. I won't have to miss you if you are there with me at home.
"She keeps pestering me to take her here or to school to meet you. Di says in a loud whisper getting another smack. I smile, my eyes filling up with tears at the same time.
Her hand wipes the lone tear that has escaped.
"I am to come home, just like that?
I am amazed, almost speechless.
Di seems to understand what I am going through for she kneels in front of me. She takes my hands in her hers.
"Gauri, just like that. Family should stay together.
~~~~~
They are all waiting for me, just like Di said. I see smiling, happy faces. And just like that, I am part of the Oberoi family. There is no need of balloons or decorations. There is no need of fun fare nor does the world have to know. But at that moment, I am home.
There is a lot of happiness and a toast from Shivaay Bhaiyya. After a lot of hugging and more laughter, I take Dad and mom's blessings. Omkara winks at me while Di and Rudy Bhaiyya snap pictures.
"Welcome to the family Gauri.
"Thank you, sir.
"My daughters call me dad, not sir, he says lovingly. I nod, overwhelmed with the love I am showered with.
"Welcome home Bhabhi. Rudy Bhaiyya crushes me into a hug. "Sorry I missed the engagement. The stupid training. I laugh as Om hits Rudy Bhaiyya playfully on the head. They play-fight and Shivaay Bhaiyya joins them as we stand there watching and laughing.
I feel like I am about to burst with all the happiness. Rudy Bhaiyya stops be after dinner and gives me a small package, my engagement gift.
"I am glad you are here Bhabhi. Welcome home.
It has a beautiful idol of Parvati and Shankarji inside. It seems like a sign from God.
Anika di helps me unpack in the guest bedroom. She leaves me, bidding me good night and not without some teasing.
"I know you would have preferred going to Om's room. ", she says grinning from ear to ear as I blush. I deny having any such thoughts. "I know Om would have liked that option better but.. I blush deeper as her teasing continues. When she leaves me, it is late into the night.
I stand up and stretch, tired out by the events of the day. I am so tired and yet I cannot sleep. It all seems so surreal.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Omkara
"Gauri, you alright?
She is standing at the French windows, staring into the darkness as a subtle breeze blows her hair in all directions. I am careful not to startle her. I move slowly until I am standing next to her.
She turns towards me. Her cheeks are lined with streaks of tears showing that she has been crying.
"Hey, what is wrong?
She looks at me with her big brown eyes.
"Wrong? Nothing is wrong. It is all perfect. She says softly. "It feels like I am dreaming.
"This is not a dream, Gauri. I tell her moving a strand away from her eyes with a small smile.
Her eyes pool with tears again.
"Om, this is a dream. My dream. I have waited years for this dream to come true and now, when it is happening in real, it all feels, it feels.. I feel so overwhelmed. I never imagined. How could I? I had no idea, no idea as to how much more beautiful all this is. All my dreams cannot hold a candle to what I am feeling right now.
She pauses, her voice choking. I know inherently to wait, give her time to gather herself.
"Do you know which day was my favorite while growing up? Not Diwali, not Christmas. It was Family Day. We called it that. When I was in the orphanage, every year, there used to be a few select days when we all dressed up. We would stand in the big hall, in our best dress, waiting to be taken home. Mothers and fathers would come by and they get to choose one of us. The chosen one would get to go home that day with her family. All through the year, I used to wait for this day to come. Every year, for years. But no one came for me. It never deterred me though. I told myself that if I just waiting long enough.. I would be able to go home with my family. Home, with my family..
She whispers the last line like it is a prayer. My heart aches painfully, listening to her. I imagine her, small and shy with her pony tails, waiting hopefully, her heart in her eyes, year after year for her turn. How many times has she been disappointed?
A tear falls down her cheek. Then another. Then another. Soon she is quietly crying, reliving those years of yearning.
"I kept telling myself that my turn was the next. That was the only way I could survive. But to this day, I keep hoping. My turn will be next. Only, next time, it never came.. not until now. Omkara, tell me this is real. I am not dreaming right?
I place my hand on either side of her shoulders and look into her eyes.
"You are not dreaming, Gauri. I tell her. My voice sounds hoarse to me.
I slowly reach out to wipe the tears that continue to flow from her stunning brown eyes. She holds my hand to her cheeks and leans into it, closing her eyes.
"It seems worth all the wait., her voice sounds so content.
I want to tell her that she did not deserve the disappointments, that she deserves all the happiness that come her way. I want to tell her that there are so many more dreams that are waiting to come true. I want to tell her that she is beautiful, both inside out. I want to tell her that I feel so lucky to have her and that she has made my home seem more beautiful with her mere presence. I want to tell her this and so much more.
But, I don't. Instead, I pull her into a hug, holding her close.
Her hands slowly snake around me. I feel her tears, warm, wetting my shirt. The years of sorrow, disappointments and the failed hopes, the excitement and tensions of the last few weeks overwhelm her, and she sobs hugging me closer, like she never wants to let go. I hold her close, running my hands up and down her back, comforting her, my heart heavy, seeing her cry. Finally, her sobs subside to a sniffle.
I raise her chin so that she is staring into my eyes.
"Welcome home Gauri.
She smiles slowly. Her eyes glisten with unshed, happy tears as she hugs me again.
"I love you Omkara., she whispers close to my heart.
Pinky
The house rings with laughter. I can hear a chatter of excitement from the kitchen. I walk in, curious to know what it is all about.
Anika and Gauri stand behind the stove, stirring something in the pot. Gauri adds salt while Anika tells her something in her ears. I see Gauri double up in laughter. The kitchen feels finally alive.
I watch them without letting them know of my presence, not wanting to disturb this beautiful picture.
"A penny for your thoughts.
Shakti whispers in my ears as he comes to stand beside me. I see him look at the scene with contentment.
"What were you thinking just then? You had this wistful look in your eyes.
He insists on knowing.
"I remembered something from the past, years ago. It is gone now.
He does not press anymore but I know that he understands. I am having a teja vu. I am remembering my days, years ago with my friend Jahnvi. Days that were filled with fun and laughter, days that ended too soon.
Well, maybe it will not be too late just yet.
Tej Kapoor
I smile, and I shake hands with a hundred-different people every day. I remember every one of them. Everyone I see, every face that comes in front of me is always demure, filled with respect.
Respect. Every single one of them, from big politicians to small time fries, the commerce council to this city's top most businessman, everyone fears me and respects me. Me, Tej Kapoor, the highest ranked businessman in the city, the benevolent man who gives twenty percent of his profits to charity, the trustee of numerous colleges and hospitals. I am the man of the hour. I deserve their respect. They owe me their respect. Nobody dares to cross me and when they do, well.. I am not responsible for the consequences.
I am here today, to donate to the NGO run my one of my wife's charities, the home for underage girls. The amount I am donating is exorbitant. That ought to keep them grateful. Right on cue, the crowd applauds. I smile, benevolently. Social causes are the fad of the hour.
Suddenly there is a change. A murmur goes around the room. Though I am slightly annoyed, I am also intrigued. What is causing all the commotion?
My smile though, never falters. Never miss a step in public. Perception is the key. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he comes up and the crowd goes nuts. People scream and shout as I watch this wannabe walk up to the stage. My PA whispers that he is a starlet, Prithvi Kumar is his name. He has a hit movie or two under his kitty. A movie star? What has the world come to? He waves at the crowd and they go berserk.
He is now beside me and turns to give me a smile. I smile back. Suddenly all the attention is on him. I am unceremoniously moved aside, and he takes centre stage. Somebody tells him to make a speech.
"I am not so great to make speeches. He says pompously concealed as modesty. The crowd cheers more.
"But.. But I just want to say how Mr. Kapoor's cause has moved me. These girls that his home is rescuing, I want to do something for them too. I am announcing on this stage that I will be donating my entire paycheck from my next film to the cause to aid underage girls.
The crowd erupts in joy. They are on their feet, clapping, shouting.
Who is this man?
As I watch, he waves more gets off the stage and walks away, with the crowd behind him. I stand alone on stage, my moment of glory taken away by a pretender.
~~~~~~~~~~~
I am having my morning coffee a couple of days later when my assistant brings me the newspapers. Every paper carries the sting on the newly crowned prince of charity, benevolent Mr.Prithvi Kumar and his prostitute of mere sixteen years. The pictures are.. let's just say, graphic, leaving very little to imagination. As a post script, there is a photo of him waving from the stage where he had announced his intention to help, numerous such sixteen-year olds. The irony is not lost. That is a nice touch.
I chuckle and then toss the paper aside as I have my breakfast. This is exactly why I tell people, respect needs to be accorded only to those who really deserve it.
Jahnvi Kapoor
"Good morning Jahnvi.
His voice penetrates my alcohol induced stupor.
"No.. NO..
I try to shut his voice out. But, no amount of alcohol, no drug will be able to help me escape this man. It is not due to lack of trying.
A hand roughly pulls me up and cold water is splashed right across my face. I am wide awake.
"Wake up, my darling wife. The sneering voice is near my ear. I don't tell him that he is hurting me. I am numb to this physical pain. You get used to it after some time if it goes on long enough. Take it from me. I should know.
"Did you see the early morning news?
His voice is sneering, and I bow my head, waiting for him to continue.
"I am hearing that the police commissioner is not doing so well in his job. The crime rates have increased. He is being summoned by the home minister.
If I am startled, I don't show it.
"And to think you went to him for help.
My head jerks up, wondering if I heard him right. Tej has moved on and I wonder if that was from my imagination.
"On another news, Prithvi Kumar does not know what hit him. Tej laughs at his own joke and I wait until he completes.
"What is it darling? You don't seem very happy at my successes. He peers into my face, laughing, his face contorted and cruel. He then pushes me down as he walks towards the table.
It happens so casually.
"Been talking to your bas***d daughter lately?
His voice is calm and smooth, but I can feel the anger he is masking. This time my fear shows in my eyes.
"Daughter? What are you talking about? I stutter, hoping, praying that he is just fishing.
"Come on now. What's her name? Oh yeah.. Gauri.. Gauri Kumari Sharma, fianc of Omkara Shakti Singh Oberoi. Haven't you seen the pictures?
He throws a packet down and out fills hundreds of photographs of a young, pretty girl. She is laughing, smiling, walking, frowning, talking.. her every move, her every gesture is captured in the pictures scattered all around. There is even one where she is sleeping in what looks like a small room. I look at the photographs and then at Tej in horror.
"You think I wouldn't find out?
His voice is smoothly cruel. His eyes shine with masked hatred as he looks at the photographs and then back at me.
"You have been a very bad girl Jahnvi. You broke the rules. I shiver at the harsh, sing-song voice. He walks near me and then pulls me into a tight hug from behind. I stand, petrified at what is to come next.
"You broke your promise. Now I will break mine. He whispers in my ears.
"Remember the dead girl under the bridge?
~~~~~~~~~~
To be continued..
Bigg Boss 19
Kabhi Neem Neem Kabhi Shahad Shahad
Debate Mansion
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