FF - The Promise - Thread I - Chapter 1 to 68 - Page 2

Chapter 6

As I walked in, Deepali or Dips as she liked to be called, yelled out to me ecstatically, and came rushing over and planted herself beside me. I am not one to complain about garnishing attention but when it comes from someone as annoying as her, I rather have my limbs cut off than spend an evening in her company. But alas, the things one has to endure in the name of business. So I planted a fake smile on my lips and congratulated her on the success of yet another exhibition.

She immediately dragged me off to show me her works of art, or rather works of crap!! I know I am being mean, but you would too if you had to cough up a huge bundle of cash for something you didn't want to buy in the first place. I had to pleasantly smile and look appreciative, I only hope it didn't come out looking constipated. Her father and my business partner came around and we exchanged our usual pleasantries. He raved about his talented daughter to the those who were around while I smiled and nodded as if I was in complete acceptance. I wondered if I had spent enough time at the exhibition and if now would be an appropriate time to make up an excuse to run the hell away from here. In her father's presence, I just picked one of her paintings, it didn't matter which one, they all looked like a monkey was the artist behind it anyway and placed a bid, hoping I wouldn't be the winner and wouldn't have to find yet another corner of the house I never go to hang the damn thing. As soon as I fulfilled my obligation, I made an excuse of having a prior engagement so that I could get out of there. Dips pouted and seductively brushed against me and said "Rishu darlin' you cant do this to me. This is my night and I want to spend it with you." All I wanted at that time is to get out of there. "Daddy-kins, I don't want Rishu to go, please make him stay."

Don't get me wrong, Deepali is extremely hot, anyone would love to get in bed with her. I too wouldn't have passed up on this opportunity, hell have you seen her, but alas I don't mix business with pleasure. Also behind that giddy and over sweet front lay a cunning and shrewd person who used every means there was to get what she wanted. And she did always get what she wanted. I just wanted not to be added on the list of conquered.

Before Mr. Bhatia could say anything, I told him that I had to leave because I had to meet with the architects on some last minute design changes before our presentation tomorrow. Since Mr. Bhatia catered mainly to the branding and promotional responsibilities of our construction business, he would not be aware of my pretentious meeting. Before they could keep me there any longer I quickly excused myself and walked away.

While walking away, heaving a sigh of relief, I heard someone exclaim "Now this is what I call art!!" I stopped in my tracks to listen to what was being said. "Such beauty yet such darkness. It is as if every brush stroke is filled with equal amounts of light and dark. Yet sometimes it feels as if the darkness is slowly creeping in and taking over. Beautiful, have never seen something like this before." I waited for them to walk away to get a look at the paintings they were talking about. And I was blown away. The thing that hit me when I saw the painting for the first time was – Loneliness. A deep deep sense of Loneliness, something I could relate to. As I moved from painting to painting I noticed that it was intentionally or unintentionally a common theme of all the paintings. I looked for some information on the artist and noticed that the only information provided as a name was – M.

I felt a pull towards the paintings as if this artist was the only person who could understand and share in my loneliness. I looked around for the artist but didn't see anyone. But noticed the curator of the gallery and signaled for him. He told me that the artist was around the place and he will locate her and bring her across to him for a chat.

While the curator was gone, I called on Bittuji, my Personal Assistant and gave him instructions that come what may, no matter how much the cost, all 5 paintings of this artist were to be mine. I had to have them.

Chapter 7

First and foremost I am an artist, who creates abstract art. Abstract art involves not only a paintbrush and paints but an emotion that comes from within the artist. It was difficult for me because I like to live in seclusion but here I have to talk to art lovers and patrons of the gallery about the process that I as an artist have to go through to create my works. I was talking to one such patron, "Everyone has their own thoughts and visions. No one will ever see one of my paintings the way that I do. But that is ok. That is what abstract is all about. For me the joy is in the process." I was interrupted by the curator who told me that there was this business man, Mr. Kundra, who was interested in buying all my paintings no matter what the cost and wanted to see me regarding payment this instant. I asked the curator what did he say about my paintings because if I had to sell them I would rather someone understand the paintings than buy them because they would match the dcor of their home or office. He looked at me like I am crazy, here someone wanted to buy my paintings and I am asking him what did he say about my paintings. I should be jumping for joy that someone was interested in purchasing paintings from a newcomer like me. He just rolled his eyes at me and said that the patron thought they were nice... NICE, he thought they were nice!!!

If it was any other artist, I am sure they would be thrilled that someone was interested in buying all their paintings. But not me. I rather keep them to myself. And if I had to sell them I would like to sell them to someone who had a keen sense of art, who could understand the emotions behind the paintings. Someone who could understand me, because though I may not accept the fact, that is exactly what I needed, someone who could understand me and accept me.

I was furious and just wanted to march right over to him and give him a piece of my mind. But thankfully civility took over me and I told him that I would be right over once I finish talking to these friendly patrons. It would also give me some time to compose myself. He nodded and left.

I finished up with the lovely couple and made my way in the direction I saw the curator leave towards. As I was walking, someone bumped into me. It was a fellow artist, Deepali, who I was introduced to before the opening of the gallery. Deepali had stepped on my gown and it ripped up the front. She immediately apologized and gushed all over me trying to make amends. But what was done was done though it was no fault of hers, I mean she didn't really mean to do it. I quickly excused myself and moved towards the exit to the back where my car was parked. What I didn't see in my rush to get out of that embarrassing situation was the smirk that Deepali had on her all so innocent face, which conveyed the message that everything went as per her plan to all those who knew her.

I didnt have a gown or anything but at-least I had a spare pair of jeans and top in the back which I could change into. Well let me tell you it ain't easy getting into skin tight jeans in the back of a car.

Deepali's eyes followed Rishab as he was leaving and noticed the pause in his step when he stopped to listen to what some people were talking. She saw him look at the paintings as if he had discovered some treasure. There was a sudden spark of understanding and comprehension in his eyes, and she didn't like it. He never looked at her paintings in the same manner. When he saw her paintings he always seemed to be bored and uninterested. When she realized that he wanted to buy every one of the paintings and also wanted to meet the artist personally, she was irate. In her jealousy and enviousness she decided to sabotage their meeting and came up with a devious plan.

Originally posted by: SAnonymous

Awesome Update

Originally posted by: punam2712

CONGRTAS FOR WRITING

WONDERFUL WAY OF WRITING YOU HAVE - CRISP AND CLEAR

SHOULD WRITE MORE OFTEN

STORY SEEMS INTERESTING, BUT WHY DID MADHU'S MOM COMMIT SUICIDE

HOW OLD IS SHE NOW

Chapter 8

My eyes constantly scanned the crowd wondering what was taking so long. I suddenly spotted the curator walking towards me but he was alone. I frowned, because one I didn't like being kept waiting and secondly I didn't know why I needed to meet the artist so much. Anyway I was buying the paintings I liked, so why do I have this urge to meet this artist. I was confused and I don't like being confused.

The curator came to me and told me that the artist was held up with another patron and would be with me shortly. What!! I was expected to wait. Doesn't this artist know who I am? This is just ridiculous and an insult. I had half a mind of walking out without buying the paintings. But something still kept my feet planted to the ground. As we waited, Deepali came by. "Oh Rishu darlin' your still here. Did you decide to stay for me?" she questioned, all the while latching on to me like a creeper to a wall. I tried to pry myself out of her clutches while I answered, "Just waiting to meet the artist of these paintings here. Such bold use of colors and such a strong portrayal of emotion, don't you agree?" "Yeah it is okay," she shrugged. "Well if you are waiting for her, you will just have to keep waiting, I just saw her go out the back a couple of minutes ago. I think she just wanted to get out of here."

I was beyond furious now. How dare she just ignore me, no one ignores Rishab Kundra!! I am the most most respected and feared man in the business world. I was MD of Kundra Diamond Works, a company my father started and Chairman of Kundra Constructions, the fruit of my hard work, my baby. I started the company on my own 5 yrs ago when I was 25 and watched it grow into the top most construction company in India. I jerked off Deepali's hand in anger and walked off. As I walked across the car park, I was suddenly hit by a car door. "Oofgh!!" I cried out. This girl comes out of the back shouting out apologies and crying out that today is just not her day and she shouldn't have come here at all. While she was in the midst of her blabbering which seemed like she was talking more to her self than to me, I got a chance to actually notice her. She looked like a woman who didn't realize just how beautiful she actually was. She had locks of sable-black and they surged over her shoulders. Her skin tight clothes gave away her sculpted figure which was voluptuous just in the right places. Her waist was tapered and she had a burnished complexion. A pair of arched eyebrows looked down on sweeping eyelashes. Her delicate ears framed a button nose. What got to me the most were her eyes and lips. She had effervescent, champagne-brown eyes which were dew-pond round. And her lips, she had the most exquisite bee-stung lips I had ever seen. I wondered what they would taste like – pure sweet honey or maybe a dash of cherry or strawberry like the reddish gloss that covered her lips. She could as well have been Aphrodite or Cleopatra in the flesh.

Im liking this. Your way of writing is too good.

Update soon

👏Very nice, truly well written. It is really nice to see them RK connect to her through seeing her paintings. Very special connection indeed. And now they are face to face! very excited to see where this leads! 👏

Wow Fabulous writing.

All the updts r gud    cont soon and dont frgt to pm me
gn tc ks hsd

Chapter 9

I placed my finger on her lips to stop her from talking, and immediately regretted it, because I have never felt lips so soft and supple. In that instance I felt a million emotions running through me - need, want, love, lust, hate, jealousy... yes, jealousy and hate not towards her but towards any man that might have been near those..., no the very thought of it makes me sick to my stomach.

To distract myself I from all these feelings, I moved to look into her eyes. By then she had stopped talking and had this cute confused expression on her face which slowly turned into annoyance. There was a flicker of something else there but it was gone before I could decipher it. As my eyes shifted to look into hers, I realized what a big mistake that was. I never met someone like her before. When you looked into her eyes you could see into her soul. And all I could see was loneliness and some deep rooted sadness. I was alarmed, this was the second time today that I felt as if someone else also shared in my loneliness. Twice in less than an hour was too much for me to handle. I couldn't stand there any longer seeing my self in her eyes. Before she said something, or before I did something I might regret later I turned and walked away.

What a horrid evening this was turning out. I had to put up my paintings for sale and attend to patrons, then some pretentious man with hordes of cash who knows nothing about art wants to buy all my paintings, most likely because it must match the dcor in his office, then Deepali, no Dips, manages to rip my gown as I was heading to meet that pompous ass. Now I have to hurriedly change in the backseat of a car into some old drab and quickly get back to the 'formal event' looking like someone off the street because I have still not met that braggart. Occupied by my inner turmoil, I opened the car door without looking and hit a gentleman who was walking besides my car.

The moment I saw him, I felt something, a kind of familiarity, like I know this person, have known him for ages, not only in this life time but for countless lifetimes. This unnerved me and I started apologizing profusely. As I heard myself apologizing, I kept wondering what was wrong with me. I am twaddling. I never twaddle. Before I could stop myself from prattling on, I suddenly felt his finger on my mouth. At his touch, I felt a warmth pass through my body and settle in the depths of my femininity. I was annoyed at myself for enjoying this feeling and wanting more of it. I could only hope it didn't show on my face. Without warning, he abruptly turned and walked away.

I braced myself against the car and took in some deep breadths to calm my rapidly beating heart. I was beside myself for having such feelings. My fury quickly changed to anxiousness when I wondered if the man's quick departure was because he saw the way I responded to him and was just appalled by my behaviour. I made a quick mental note - No more Mills & Boon for me. Those books are the root cause of all these romanticized feelings. Deciding to blame all my new found feelings on my romance novels I started walking back to the gallery rather briskly. I was already late and would need to make another apology, which had to be better than the one I just gave a few minutes back.

Edited by luvera - 11 years ago