The Moon And The Stars
Armaan was lost. He had nowhere to go, he could not bear the thought of his defeat any longer. He was at the beach. Looking at the waves, he could not help but feel jealous of them. They had a short life, but it was peaceful and it was graceful. Their life was for themselves, and not for a thousand other people. Waves could rise from the sea, feel the wind, romance the sunlight and then die, go back into the sea... just like they had risen. For him, however, his life was not about himself. it was not about what he wanted, what he desired. It was about what he was supposed to do, his life was all about impressing the board of directors. it was about doing business. He was empty.
Riddhima looked out of the aeroplane window, and she felt happy. She was going to take her revenge, she was going to kill Siddhant. She looked at the blanket of clouds below her and the various shades they were reflecting. The sun was rising, it was almost symbolical. The sun would rise and illuminate the world with its light, announce the beginning of a new day. Her Sun going to rise too, it was just a matter of a few more days. Then the night would come to an end. The long, gloomy night which had destroyed her, and now she would destroy the cause of that prolonged night. She smiled.
"The flight from New Delhi to Sidney has arrived. The passengers are requested to reach immigration and...", the woman announcing the arrival of the flight blabbered on. Siddhant was at the airport, he sighed as he looked at his watch, it was four in the morning and he had not slept for forty eight hours now.
"I want no problems today Napolean"
"Yes sir", his butler replied.
He was very very excited. Riddhima was going to come today, and they would be married in two weeks. He could not remember being more happy. This was a first for him; he had had affairs, dated girls, had his flings but he had never felt the way Riddhima made him feel. His life was perfect at the moment, but he had a nagging feeling, that something bad was going to happen. He quickly reprimanded himself for being so pessimistic, everything was perfect, and even if it wasnt he was going to make it perfect...
Siddhant Modi had no idea about how wrong he was.
Napolean looked at Siddhant with hatred, this man was a deamon - a stylish deamon. Napolean was twenty, he looked forty. He still remembered the day Siddhant had bought him from the streets of Saudi Arabia as a slave, saved him from being a male prostitute. He could not have been more grateful that day, for the days that followed Siddhant had been a perfect master, he had never made Napolean overwork. He had even given him the freedom to visit brothels on the weekends if his work was good. Napolean had never ever cheated his master, except once. And that day had destroyed him. Napolean was a faithful man, but he was more honest than faithful. Siddhant had raped and killed his maid in his own apartment, Napolean could still remember her screams. Napolean had expected some remorse the next morning, some words of guilt. However, the only thing Siddhant complained about was how his omelette was not hot enough; that was the moment Napolean had made his decision. He had quietly visited the police station and told the police everything. When he returned, Siddhant had pleasantly told him that Napolean's thirteen year old sister was coming to visit them. Napolean had been very excited. That night she came from Saudi Arabia. Zubaida was his only living relative, and there was not one thing Napolean could not do to bring that bright smile on her face. After they had finished their dinner, Siddhant had directly looked into Napolean's eyes and addressed him.
"General Warrings called Napolean.", it was a statement, not a question.
Napolean did not answer, but his mind was processing what Siddhant had said at an amazing speed. He was intelligent enough to understand that this had something to do with the complaint he had lodged.
"He was saying something about me raping and killing a maid.Wonder how he got to know?", he said softly.
"Indeed..", Napolean stuttered.
"Should I tell you how he got to know", Siddhant's voice was barely more than a whisper now but Napolean had never heard anything more clearly in his life.Napolean did not answer.
"Did it irk you so much Napolean, that you complained against me, your master, your saviour?"
Napolean finally mustered the courage to speak, "I'm sorry sir"
"Oh Naplean, dont be. Ofcourse I forgive you, I'm sure you are never going to do it again.", Siddhant smiled.
Napolean could not believe his luck, "ofcourse Sir, never."
"Good." Siddhant had then walked upto Zubaida, and started unbuttoning her shirt. Both Napolean and Zubaida had been too shocked to say a word, "Could you prepare the bed for us Napolean?"
Napolean's eyes welled up.
"And I hope General will not have to call me tomorrow", Siddhant fondled with her breasts and started kissing them.
"No sir"
Riddhima's flight had landed, and she was searching for Siddhant. She wanted to see the love in that bas***d's eyes. She wanted him to be madly in love with her, just like Anjali, her sister had been. Riddhima remembered how Anjali used to be obsessed with Siddhant during the first few days, and the first thing she did every morning was to read the letter Anjali had written before commiting suicide.
Dear Riddhima,
I swear I dont have any other option. I love him, and I am carrying his baby. He promised me we would get married. I was a fool enough to believe him. I'm sorry Riddhima, but what else can I do? I love this baby too much to kill it. And I hate it too much to live with it. What will I tell Mama papa? Riddhima, I will always love you, I'm so sorry. Just do me one favour in your lifetime...kill Siddhant.
Love you,
Anjali.
From then on, Riddhima had never smiled. She had only one aim-to kill Siddhant Modi. She had known only two things about Siddhant Modi - his name, and that she was going to kill him. She had planned it carefully, she was not going to give him an easy death.
Armaan was working late tonight, nothing new. Thats what his life had been all about- working like a dog for Siddhant bhai, but he had to live upto his step brother's expectations.Siddhant was his mother's first son, then her husband had died and she had got married to Armaan's dad. HIs dad had never loved Siddhant, but Armaan and Siddhant shared a great relationship, or so he thought. Armaan was twenty four, and Siddhant was twenty eight. Before dying, Armaan's dad had left everything for Armaan and not a single penny for Siddhant. Armaan was the one and only heir to the multi-billion empire his ancestors had built- The Malik Trading Group Ltd. The Maliks were the ultimate riches, they had gained expertise in every field,and they had outsmarted all the competetors. The Malik Trading Group Ltd. made everything, and everything they made was bought by everyone. They manufatured medicines, garments, perfumes, electronice gadgets, cars, they constructed houses and bussiness sights all over the world, they did everything. The company ran half the world, and the other half was patiently waiting for it to completely take over. The company was the life of thousands, but it was Armaan's death. Siddhant was the CEO, and that was only because Armaan insisted. Armaan was the guy who worked, but it did not matter. Siddhant was his only family, and Armaan loved SIddhant too much to upset him. He recalled the conversation he had with Siddhant earlier that evening.
"Bhai, I've lost. Destiny has defeated me, Ionna just refused my paintings..", Armaan had said emotionlessly.
"It does not matter Armaan, you have the company to live for", Siddhant had replied calmy.
"Yes, Bhai"
"Dont "yes" me Armaan, I know how upset you are, but its a phase of life, and it will pass. Who cares about what the stupid college thinks. Just concentrate on the bussiness."
"You are right Bhai" Armaan had said weakly.
"You do remember about tomorrow's breakfast, dont you? Riddhima will be there, you guys just have to meet."
"Yes Bhai." Bhai was right, who cared about a stupid arts college, he had a big company to take care of...
"Ok, gotta go now, catch ya later", he heard the phone click.
"Bhai loves me so much...", said Armaan, looking at the phone.
Siddhant looked at the phone and shook his head, "Emotional fool", he muttered.
The initial shock in itself had been big enough. Her mother had always called her a princess, taken care of every need of hers, bought her whatever she wanted.
"Well, she certainly got back the money she had spent on me", Maggerita thought wryly. Her mother had not even shed a tear before waving her goodbye.
She still remembered how the two men had checked her before buying her. Her mother had taken exceptional care to dress her up that morning, she had asked Maggerita to not wear a brasierre and a panty. That had confused her, but she had let it pass. Her mother had not let her out for the entire day. At about five'o'clock in the evening, that she heard the bell ring. Her mother had asked her to stay in the bedroom.
She had been reading a book when the two men walked in with her mother.
The taller one asked her mother, "She is a virgin?"
"Hundred percent.", her mother had replied smugly.
"Too bad", the shorter one smirked, "I thought I could lick her...she is a good one.."
"I want to undress her", the taller one said calmly.
Her mother had nodded in an understanding sort of a way, and had left. Both of them had ripped her clothes apart, ignoring her screams.
The shorter one had squeezed her breasts, the taller one had been busy with her legs.
That was when her mother had walked in, "I want fifteen"
"Done", the taller man had replied.
Her mother had smiled, "She is all yours"
She had then been given a injection, and when she had woken up, she had found her naked pictures being clicked.
"How much is he willing to pay?"
"He wants to buy her"
"I want seventy. Not a penny less."
"Done"
She had been then asked to wear a nightgown that concealed nothing, she mechanically did what she was asked to. Then she had travelled to a large mansion, and here she was.
The door creaked open, and a man walked in. He looked at her, then her body. He came upto her, "Lie down", he ordered. She did as she was told. He tore her nightgown apart, and started kssing her body. She closed her eyes. His big hands were all over her, pressing her breasts and hips, kissing them. He removed his clothes too, and plunged into her. She did not feel a thing.
He bit her all over her body, and then started kissing her neck, slowly moving to her shoulders. "You are beautiful...", he murmured.
This man was almost double her age, she felt disgusted.
"I want you to dance for my friends and me..", he had told her. They'll be here in five minutes.
Maggerita had been too shocked to answer.
They had come one by one, she still lay naked on the bed. They had all looked at her greedily.
"She is the chick this time?", a sixty year old man asked excitedly.
"Yes, Mr. Nazzim. She will dance for us", the man who had made love to her had said pleasantly. She stood up, and she moved her body. In a matter of few seconds, all of them were on her. Maggerita let tears escape her eyes, and she promised her tears revenge.
Siddhant Modi leaned back against the bar, the deal would be successful.
Napolean looked at his master's fiancee from the rear view mirror as he drove the car. "Why did Siddhant not come?", Riddhima asked him, disturbed.
"He had to leave urgently for a bussiness deal, madame"
Riddhima sighed as she closed her eyes. "Drop me at the beach, and take my stuff to the hotel"
Napolean nodded with reluctance, his revenge would be complete in another two weeks.
Riddhima looked at the Moon and the stars, they were her only faithful companions in this dangerous journey she had ventured. Six months back, she would have found the scene extremely romantic, but not any longer.
Romance, she laughed at the hollow word. And her heart cried for laughing at it. She had no answers for her heart's questions.
She hated Siddhant Modi, and it was not just because her sister had committed suicide because of him, not because her mother had gone mad after reading the letter and finding her daughter dead, not because her father had had a heart attack and had been reported brain dead, but because he had made her heart incapable of loving anyone. The sole purpose of her existence was hatred and revenge, this was not a life she had envisaged, not what she dreamt about as a young child. She had lost herself. She was a completely different person. She looked at the Moon and the Stars, and sighed. The only thing that had not changed.
Napolean knew one thing for sure, he was not going to kill Siddhant Modi, he would torture him, turn him mad. He wanted Siddhant to stay in the same asylum room as his sister did. He wanted Siddhant to look at her face everyday and lament,he was going to achieve that.
-------------------------------------------
Armaan looked at her, and he was in love. She looked at him, both looked into each other's eyes, and both saw depth. Her eyes were a book, and he was reading them. The handwriting was beautiful but the words were bitter. And he knew something was terribly wrong.
She looked at him, and got lost into the labyrinth of his eyes. It was an intricate labyrinth, and she had no means of escaping. She kept looking at him, trying to find her way. And after a long time, she felt something in her heart.
Their wordless conversation was interrupted as Siddhant walked into the dining area.
"Hey Bro!", he addressed Armaan, noticing nothing.
Armaan smiled.
Riddhima did not, so he was the bas***d's brother. She was going to hate him. But for once, her heart protested. Her heart could not bear the thought of hating this mystery.
"The mornings beautiful", said Armaan, looking at the view that the glass wall allowed.
"Somebody makes it beautiful brother, and that angel is sitting right next to me", said Siddhant, looking at Riddhima.
Armaan's heart broke, so his guess was correct, this was Riddhima. He would have to stay away from her, the words sounded stupid to him.
"Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder", Riddhima looked out at the view too, at the bright Sun which blessed the sky, and the trees beneath it. "I, for instance, find the Moon and the Stars more beautiful than the Sun"
"What offends you about the Sun?", Armaan genuinely asked Riddhima.
"Nothing", she said simply. "But I find the night sky more expressive and friendly, the Sun is too selfish to be liked by me, it overshadows the other stars when it spreads its light. The moon is gentle enough to give everyone space.."
"It is selfish enough to attract everyone's attention, though..", Armaan retorted.
She looked at him for a second before answering, "Arent we all? Moon is not the only one who wants love.."
Both looked at each other for a long moment, then both broke the gaze.
"I dont think the moon is gentle, I feel its weak. If you want to be the king, you have to destroy every possibility of a new king. You love the moon now, but there is always a possibility that you may fall in love with one of the stars. In the Sun's case, however, you dont have an option..", Siddhant said coolly, breaking the silence.
"And that is why you wont ever love him the way you love the Moon. Because with the Sun, you never had an option but with the Moon, you did. And you chose it over a thousand different possibilities. Thats what makes a relationship beautiful, trust.", Armaan said slowly.
Siddhant snorted, "Thats why you dont have a girlfriend brother. Learn to possess, not trust."
"I want to possess the heart, not the person", Armaan looked at Riddhima when he said that.
There was silence, each lost in one's own thoughts. Armaan thought about Riddhima, and the ocean of grief that he recognised in her eyes. Riddhima thought of what Armaan had said, and she realised her heart wanted to be possessed. Siddhant thought about Maggerita and her body, it aroused him. He had this urge to meet her. He would.
"Looks like we have two poets here, I'm sure you guys would have an excellent time with each other. I have some work today, so Armaan, why dont you show her around the town today?"
Armaan knew that all he wanted was Riddhima at that moment, "I could not agree more."
Siddhant left, and he had made the gravest mistake of his life. Never leave two poets together, they often fall in love.
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