Dear readers (sounding very Bridgerton-y aren't I?),
This idea came to me last week and wouldn't disappear so i had to write it. It has started as an FF but the length and the chapters will depend on the interest the story generates.
Anyways, without much ado, here is the story. Apologies for the length..it did seem a tad too long. Please let me know what you think.
Prologue PART 1: ABHIMANYU
Abhimanyu spun on his heels on the spot, his vision blurring from his speed, neck cricking as his eyes sought out the source of the noise.
That short, sweet spurt of melodic laughter.
He was not sure where exactly he was, but the high-arched, cream-and-marble hallways where he found himself failed to capture his interest. Instead, urgent steps hurried forward in the direction he perceived the giggles were coming from; his footfalls echoing loudly off the elaborate, bejewelled murals stretched within the brackets of ornate windows. Some awareness, some nagging persevering idea – that he had been here before, that this place was somehow familiar, somehow significant – festered away at some back alley of his mind, unheeded, unimportant.
There was only one matter of importance for him now and…
There it was again. The delicate chime of playful laughter; now much closer at hand….so close he might have been able to reach out and…
His steps hastened, imperative, the click-clacks of his heels mysteriously retreating to be replaced by other sounds, hushed and low and gentle and soft, but which resonated in surreal echoes, beckoning him, thrilling his long dormant nerves into a frenzy...he skidded to a stuttering halt, faltering for only a moment as his pace rapidly accelerated to a jog, veering a sharp right and renting his way through gauzy, shimmering gold drapes, the ache of longing in his heart intensifying with every step, the beats receding to short, staccato throbs of mounting, almost damaging anticipation...he wheeled about yet again, excitement and yearning alike flipping over in his stomach, so powerfully that it helped him ignore, if only for the moment, the deep-set, yet elusive knowledge that none of this was real.
And there she was. There...right there.
And just like that, Abhimanyu’s frantic dash slowed down until he had come to a slow stop. Just like that, all the restless urgency which had set fire to his bones, which had propelled him like a madman tearing through the labyrinth of this unfamiliar, unknown place, guided only by the sound of laughter that was like rain coveted by his withered, barren heart, ebbed away.
And he simply stood there, watching. Admiring.
Right there. Half concealed behind a sculpted marble pillar, peeking out at him from behind it...inexplicably, in spite of the fact that he was still a good fifteen feet away from her, he could make out with stark clarity the childish mischief sparkling in her lively eyes...could see the upturn of the corners of her lips in a gleeful, impish smile...could see the pearly lustre of her skin, iridescent and unrivalled by the sunshine tumbling in through the cast open, mullioned casements, aglow with some innate light which seemed to come from within...
And then, with the endearing innocence of a child unable to contain her mirth, a henna-adorned hand shot up to her mouth, fingers futilely trying to smother yet another helpless laugh, twining with the jangled ringing of her bangles to create the sweetest music Abhimanyu had ever heard.
Akshu…
Whether he had whispered the name within the security of his mind, savouring it like a forbidden, decadent delicacy, or whether he had murmured it out loud like a tender endearment, he did not know.
But in neither instance could he ignore the blatant and unapologetic longing which reverberated from it, in tandem with the beat of his pulse.
Which pounded audibly against his ears, so loudly, in fact, that Akshara appeared to have heard it too.
For in a flash of emerald and gold, she had darted out of her hiding place into the middle of the corridor, right within the centre of his view, her movements as elegant and vivacious as a curious butterfly come out to play.
Abhimanyu was conscious of dragging in a ragged breath, conscious of the stabbing pain sinking deep into his wildly pulsating heart...conscious of the drugged, unsteady steps his legs directed forwards, eating into the distance inch by inch...conscious of the faint sting and burn of moisture collected beneath his lids like dew-drops collected on blades of grass...conscious of fighting the involuntary, automatic reflex of blinking, to let the unwarranted, unexplained tears fall and clear his fogged-up sight...
...because he knew. He knew somewhere, somehow, that this HAD to be a creation of his imagination, a cocktail brewed by his fantasies and deepest buried desires, his unfulfilled, shunned dreams. He knew that there could be no other explanation for the angelic beauty beaming invitingly up at him, the limelight of sunshine from the windows behind her cascading about her shoulders and making her luminescence all the more ethereal, all the more mesmerising...all the more alive, just as he remembered her, just as she had been before things had gone so horribly wrong. Her silk-like tresses danced with a teasing breeze, stippled with bronze where the light hit the otherwise luscious, brown-black locks...her fingers clutched at the pallu of her jade saree, to keep it from fluttering in the same manner as the hem of her skirts...and her dancing, dark chocolate eyes watched him with a devastating combination of intrigue and shyness, peeping at him through lowered lashes, front teeth entrenched into her bottom lips as she suppressed the brilliant grin which would blossom there from one answering smile of his own...
The conviction that all this was a cruel figment of his imagination, that this was a dream that he would eventually have to wake from, continued to niggle away in some exiled nook of his psyche- but it did nothing to deter him.
Abhimanyu was too afraid to blink, Too afraid to speak, or even move, fearful that one last mistake, and this reprieve, fragrant with all the delicate aroma of wilted roses, beautiful but short-lived...would be gone.
And he would be left with the ruins. Alone.
But then- she was moving again.
She whirled around, emerald skirts fanning out about her, before her anklets chimed in tandem to her light steps as she ran, away from him, sailing to the left just before she cast a playful, challenging grin at him, summoning him silently to give her chase.
And then she had disappeared.
Abhimanyu did not even pause to think as his feet pounded after her of their own accord, unsure whether panic or exhilaration was predominant in him right now- but it didn't matter. It didn't matter that he had been moved to tears, and it didn't matter that he made no attempts to rebuke the pining of his heart, his soul, for the girl he loved so much. He could let himself be here, he could be unguarded...because right now there was nothing except for him and for her; no prejudices, no memories of the pain Aarohi had given her, no sorrow, no stakes, no conditions and he could not afford to let this pass.
And so Abhimanyu chased her, relished in her cheerful abundant laughter, devoured the sight of her delighted, flushed, beautiful face dodging and ducking in and out of corridors and between pillars, as his angel toyed with him mischievously, pausing till he was close enough to grab at her before skipping away again. He lost himself in their game of tag, with the single-minded devotion of the carefree man he had once been, chasing down these very halls, happy and uninhibited, choosing to revert to the old times....
I'll catch you,' Abhimanyu cried out as he hurtled up a short flight of steps, ignoring the chorus of pleas from below imploring him to slow down, to mind his step. He had to pause a minute, his hand grasping the rail of the banister. Catching his breath, he was off once more, following the breathless pants coming toward him from the distance...his hair damp with sweat by now...Akshu wouldn't be happy..she would make him shower when he got back. He shrugged the thought off, his priority solely trying to get to her...
...and then he caught the sight of dark green flashing about a bend, and smirked with the same triumph that he had felt after he had yanked his Akshu’s odhni towards him and kissed her cheek...the same rush of pleasure spiralled through him as he covered the remaining distance with long strides, so caught up with his imminent victory that he failed to notice the sudden chill which pervaded the air and bit at his skin, the howling silence left by the disappearance of her laughter, her bangles, her anklets, her, nor the blanket of shadow which billowed overhead like a canvas, ready to drop on him.
He had rounded the bend, and his hand had stretched out to turn the doorknob of his and Akshu’s bedroom door when the vision changed to his Akshu’s lifeless form, clad in emerald, on the floor...
Abhimanyu suddenly experienced a strange deep seated shockwave of fear seep through his bones, through his brain; the vision as real and vivid as if it was happening in real time.
Abhimanyu woke up from his dream in shock, looking around his room with panic widened eyes.
‘”No!No!No!Akshu…No!”
“This cannot be happening…No Akshu…please no….”, he whispered as he held the pendant he wore around his neck.
“This cannot be happening to us…AKSHU…don’t leave me…please no, you cannot break the promise!”
“AKSHU…AKSHU..NO!”
This time he had woken up roaring and shouting her name.
This time, as the lingering touches of his nightmare dissipated, Abhimanyu did not frantically run around Birla House looking for her, to reassure his broken heart that she was still there. He had understood, as soon as his eyes had open that she was not in Birla House. His Akshu was not there to comfort him.
The fear implanted into his recurring dreams had come true.
Abhimanyu was shivering, sweating, gasping for breath. Cruelly enough, like a punishment from the gods for not being able to protect her, the last image from his dream flashed before his eyes, seeping into his subconscious, remaining there and haunting him.
The image of his Akshu, on the floor, her lovely expressive eyes shielded from him. Not moving, deathly pale.
NO!
Abhimanyu got up and banged his fist onto the mirror, the glass cutting his hand, blood streaming down and yet the pain in his hand doing nothing to obliterate the pain in his heart; doing nothing to loosen the gigantic knot constricting his lungs; doing nothing to shake away the pain seared into his soul.
His Akshu was so alone. He had failed her so horribly.
The despair in his chest, that he couldn’t keep inside him anymore, shattered from within him, like glass cutting into his veins and nerves to the extent that Abhimanyu stopped trying to fight the pain. He did not wipe the tears coursing from his eyes, dripping down his face. There was no one to nurse his broken heart and mourn his missing soul. He was too broken to keep any facades up.
So Abhimanyu finally let himself cry, sobbing, letting his grief and pain tear at him from within, trying to let the unimaginable sorrow he felt leak out but the sorrow just wouldn’t leave him.
He cried for his loneliness; he cried because he was not doing anything for his Akshu. He cried for the beautiful dream the past few months had been before this nightmare had taken over their lives. He cried because his Akshu was not there to give him unspoken solace and comfort. He cried because he could not tell her what he had dreamed about.
He cried for Akshu and all the ordeals they were going through.
He cried because he was failing to protect the one person who was his entire world.
Aarohi would do everything to keep his Akshu away from him. She would ask Akshu to leave him. She would blackmail Akshu into choosing a life separate from him.
Abhimanyu would never see his Akshu again; never see her smile; never touch her again.
“Never”, he gasped, frightened as his soul, colour, laughter, and anything and everything worth living for, felt like it was being sucked away from him. All he could feel was remorse, and self-loathing and that broke him from within. As if there was anything more left to break.
He couldn’t cry anymore; he had to do something.
“Help me, Mahadev. Help us. Please help us…I cannot let her go Mahadev. I won’t be able to exist without my Akshu.”
And then, as if gathering himself together, Abhimanyu growled with fury into the darkness:
“AAROHI NEIL BIRLA”
Ishaani
Cricket
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