RiKara FS - Petrichor of Love

Prologue

Hi dears,
I hope all of you are doing fine. So let us begin the journey of Petrichor of Love. This story was once developed by me for a SS, so there are so many sub plots here, which I have somehow squeezed into the shortened version. I’m still not sure if we’d get there at the mark I’ve set, but as far as it would spin, I’ll promise you I’m going to end this within Six shots. We’ll have to move back and forth in time during this journey, I hope you won’t get confused. But if you do, please tell me, I’ll be always there to explain.
This chapter is purely set in past, one part of it in their childhood and one in that Four Years Ago universe.
Please enjoy!


Jogan

The white butterflies were mischievous, so was the six year old Gauri who chased them. Her bare feet padding the dew drenched grass along the field, and her giggles reduced to whispers she ran after the little insects her hands outstretched and honey color eyes focused. The sun was barely out, sunlight a feeble gold over the greenery that surrounded her. Finally the butterfly rested on a swinging leaf and the girl clasped her tiny hands around it, a victorious laughter escaping her throat.
She ran back towards the large tree in the distant edge of the field, where she had left her glass bottle earlier and slowly transferred the butterfly into it, fastening the netted lid as fast as she could. Pressing the tip of her nose against the cool glass, she watched it flutter its fragile wings, her rosy lips tugging upwards.
“Phir se pakad li? (You caught one again?) ” Someone admonished her from behind and her smile vanished instantly. Pouting a little, Gauri turned to face the intruder, who was a boy with his hands on his hips and a frown creasing his forehead. “Maine mana kiya tha na?( I told you not to, didn’t I?)”
“Par hume passandh hai na,(But I like them,) ” she tilted her head, trying to look cute. “Hum innhe pyaar se rakh the hai. (And I love them)”
The boy stretched out his hand, still displeased.
“Idar do, (Give it here)” he said firmly.
Gauri pouted again, trying to change his mind by her expressions. After a while, when he still stood towering her and unyielding, she sighed, stomped and finally handed the bottle over. A faint smile threatened to escape his pursed lips as the boy watched her miserable face, he reached out and held her hand.  
“Humein rakhne do na,” her lower lip trembled and a big tear drop escaped her eye as she looked at him. “Rakhne do na…”
He shook his head, no longer frowning.
“It belongs in the sky Gauri, it belongs in the wind where it can fly freely. It’s a butterfly it doesn’t belong in cages. If you really like it, let it go. I’m sure it’ll come back to see you.”
Gauri said nothing for a while as she wiped her eyes with her free hand.
“Shall I let it go?”
She didn’t reply and he sighed.
“Gauri?”
Slowly, without looking at him she nodded once and the boy pulled her by her hand, towards the fields once more.
“Come we’ll set it free together.”
And off they went, running as the crispy beams of sun cut across their path and released the butterfly back to that exact spot where Gauri had picked it up.
“Why are you sad now?” He asked her, as they strolled back home, fingers entwined and hands swinging.
But exactly what she was upset about, she could never tell him, at the gate a man was waiting for them and for some reason the boy stilled in his tracks as soon as he saw him. It was a nicely dressed man, his clothes expensive and finely tailored, his shoes gleaming like mirrors. He was holding Rudra’s hand as he walked towards them.
“Omkara,” he called the boy, relief washing his tone.
“Dad!” Her fingers slid from his hold as Omkara ran towards his father and hugged his middle as the man laughed. Rudra the toddler protested and tried to insert himself into the sandwich the father and son was making and Tej laughed messing the hair of both his sons.
“Okay,” he said after a while, releasing Omkara and steering both children back towards the house. “Let’s go home, shall we?”
Omkara stopped again, looking up at his father expectantly.
“Did you talk with Mom? Are you guys, okay now? Did everything sort out?”
For some reason Tej did not quiet meet his son’s eye when he replied, but his smile had been enough to distract the child.
“Yes, Omkara. Everything is fine now. And we’re going home.”
“So, Choti mom told you we were here?” Omkara continued to question his father. “Did Shivay come too?”
“Shivay’s gone to the summer camp and you young man, you should be going too, huh?” He smartly avoided answering the question as to how he found out his wife’s whereabouts and instead turned the conversation smoothly towards a not so bumpy area as they made their way inside.
Of cause he was not going to confess exactly how he had blackmailed Pinky into  spilling Jhanvi was back at Pinky’s best friend’s, at her village. It would simply be added to the many secrets of the elder Oberoi. He was neither going to share the details of his negotiations with his estranged wife with his son, nor was he going to tell him that had Jhanvi left the house alone, after that huge fiasco she made at the charity gala, he would not be here trying to coax her at all. Instead, his lawyers would have made arrangements for the final strings of their relationship to be cut off.
Tej Oberoi hated it, when somebody threatened to snatch his heir from him. He hated if when Omkara behaved in ways that did not suit an Oberoi prince. He simply hated it, when instead of being Tej Oberoi’s son, he pulled stunts worthy of his mother. Like right at that moment, when he had to rush back, making the car wait with all their luggage already wrestled into it, simply to bid a final good bye to his new “Best Friend”.
Gauri didn’t come to see her Best Friend off. She simply sat under her favorite tree, silently wiping her tears. That was where he found her, when he came back looking for her.
“What are you doing here?” He asked her, eyebrows raised and tone curious.
“Jaao na, waapas kiyun aagaye?”
“Really Gauri? You won’t even say good bye?”
“I don’t want to,” she said stubbornly, looking away. “I don’t want you to go.”
“It’s my home na, I have to go.”
“Toh Jaao na, kiss ne rokha hai?”
“If you don’t look at me right now, I’m not going to come back ever again!” He threatened, folding his arms across his chest. “nor am I going to write to you.”
“Waise bhi, you won’t come back. You’re going to forget me in a while.”
“Aur tu? Tu bhi mujhe bhool jayengi, huh, Gauri?”
She didn’t reply and he sighed.
“I’m really leaving Gauri, won’t you turn around and look at me?”
She shook her head, her lower lip trembling again. There was honking somewhere in the distance. Their time was up.
“You’re going to cry about this later…” Omkara said knowingly. “Ab buss na, look at me...please?” She shook her head again, tears draining down her face.
“Okay, fine. I’m going. Don’t chase after me crying now. Bye!” Exasperated, he left, as the car honked again. In a few minutes his footsteps faded and in the distance an engine roared to life. Gauri jerked and looked back, he was really leaving.
“Omkara!” She ran, almost stumbling over roots and rocks, still crying and out of breath. “Omkara!”
He was gone, she didn’t even get to chase after him.
**
“Aap hi bataiye Shankar ji, yeh kaunsi insafi hai?” A young woman rented to her favorite god, her hands clasped and eyes closed in front of the idol. “It’s been decades aur woh ab bhi apni jid pakad kar baitha hai, not even once had he answered any of my letters. He hasn’t forgotten me, has he Shankar ji?” She opened her eyes terrified at her own thought and then shook her head. “How can he forget me, no, it’s not possible, right Shankar ji? Koi iss chireiyya ko bhool sakta hai bhala?” She flicked her hair and, resumed praying. “Buss, iss baar koi jawaab aajaye…”
She went home, still contemplating her situation and found her mother and aunt immersed in conversation.
“How can she reject it? Is she crazy or what?” Her aunt was complaining, while her mother simply nodded her head, folding some freshly pressed clothes. “Humari maaniye jiji, aap ek baar phir Gauri se baat…”
“Ab aur kya baat kare Bua?” Gauri cut in, her face sour. “Hum ne kaha na, humein yeh shaadi manjoor nahi hai, toh nahi hai, buss!”
“Kher chodo,” her mother said disappointedly. “No one can convince her once she makes up her mind. “I’ve already called Mrs. Oberoi and told her, Gauri said no.”
Gauri who had almost walked away, tossing her hair, as she went stopped at the threshold.
“Kisse phone kiya?”
“Mrs. Oberoi ko, wo Pinky aunty ki saas hai na, unhe.”
Her heart, skipped a beat, and then started to beat at an uneven rhythm.
“Humare liye kiss ka rishta aaya tha, Ma?”
“Lo,” her aunt stood up, her hands on her hips. “Just listen to this girl. She rejects like the queen of England before even knowing who the dhulha is! Sun le, kaan bhar ke, Omkara Singh Oberoi ka rishta aaya tha…tere waaste. Aur tu ne na kar di, bawari kahi ki!”
Gauri leaned against the wall, her hand clasped against her heart, trying to clam its rate. She closed her eyes, an unconscious smile tugging at her lips and exhaled deeply.
“Ab aise paagalon ki tara huss kiyun rahi hai?” Her aunt’s shrill voice broke into the blissful haze. “Tu kuch bolengi bhi ke nahi?”
“Haan kar do,” she muttered, her eyes still closed and her cheeks heating up.
“Kya?” Her mother stopped folding cloths and looked up at her. “Kya kaha tune?”
“Haan kar do, Ma. Humein yeh rista manjoor hai.”
She opened her eyes slowly to find her mother beaming at her.
“Such Gauri?”
She simply nodded and ran away as the two women proceeded to talk excitedly among themselves. So many years, she had waited so many years to hear from him and he was planning this? Gauri smiled to herself as she stared into the mirror. So, he hasn’t really forgotten her? She tried to catch her breath and the breeze from the open window played with her hair.
She had never told anyone that she loved him, that over the years she had turned into a secret admirer of the great artist he had turned himself into. Of cause he used to be her best friend but she knew he was too far from her reach as she grew up. It was too beautiful a dream to let go of, but too fanciful to wish for, thanks to her internet chaachi she knew who exactly her once best friend was. No matter how much she loved him, her love would never be reciprocated. She was contend with loving him from a far, convincing herself that he was still her best friend. At moments like that she was a little glad that he didn’t reply to any of her letters. It was the reality check she needed to set her notions straight. But it seemed fate and him had other plans for her.
“Omkara,” she muttered to herself, touching her reflection in the mirror. “Kahi yeh aur koi sapna toh nahi?”
**
Awaiting your response, please be kind enough to share your views with me.
Thanks a lot for reading!
If anyone’s disappointed, I’m sorry about that.
Love,
Sakura