RiKara FS - Petrichor of Love

One

Hi,
I’m back with chapter one and you’re going to get some answers or in more elaborate words the realities are gonna be tossed at you. Tread carefully and I’ll see you at the bottom.

ONE

Tales of Twisted Love

Love could be the most blissful blessing or the most wretched of curses. It could complete someone and also leave one feeling a shell of themselves. Love; could either give you a reason to live, or a reason to die for. Love was a feeling you’d do better the further you’re from. He had learned it in the most bitter way possible, by being the silent spectator of his parents’ love destroying both of them. It was a slow, painful process, replacing love with hatred, then with indifference. It was scary, how one could go from being the centre of your universe to its non-existent end. Omkara Singh Oberoi had seen it happen and had vowed to himself that he would never fell victim to that all consuming feeling. He could not withstand the pain it brought along, could not stand the betrayal of someone who you consider your entire world. No; he was far better, with no strings attached.
For the better part of last four years he thought Riddhima had the same opinion. It was one of the reasons they went along so well. He was usually a lone ranger, and she understood his need of space perfectly. Or he thought she did. He was a man bruised from extreme emotions, and she never demanded any outward expressions from him. Or so he thought. Their dynamics changed fast, from being his counsellor to his friend, friend to best friend and then girlfriend, she earned her place in his heart. Or was he mistaken about her.
He wondered, looking at the profile of the tall woman, preached on the window sill of their apartment, her tinted hair messy from running her hands through it, and her eyes cold.
“Mistake?” He repeated in case he hadn’t heard her properly in the first time. “Did you just call our baby a mistake, Ridz?”
Riddhima pursed her lips, and stood up approaching him to wrap her arms around his neck, looking at his face expectantly.
“Om, hon, try to understand. We’ve just started our lives. This isn’t the right time for a baby. I thought you understand this, I thought even you weren’t interested in anything more than this right now...” she continued, casting a pointed look around their apartment.
So, that’s how she thought about him? She had counted his fear for commitments as a lack of interest thereof?
“Is this all about me then? About how I feel? Is it about me, not proposing you yet? Riddhima, are we really discussing this right now?”
“We are Om,” her tone was exasperated. “I’m not even sure, what is it that we have between us right now!”
Gripping her shoulders, he made her look at him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I made you feel that way. But I want you to stay Ridz, I want you, I want our baby. Please, let’s work this out.”
Something,  closer to annoyance flickered across her features, as she stepped back, his hands dropped to his sides as they lost contact with her. Riddhima pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a large gulp of breath.
“My thesis has been accepted.” She started in a dull monotone. “If I take up this project, it means travel, travel and travel. I’d have to go to the most remote sort of countries...it’s gonna be hard and I can’t do it with a kid dangling from my hand.”
For a moment she reminded him of Tej Oberoi, business running in his veins and venom laced his every word.
“I’ve done so much to get this Om, I’m not gonna let it go for anything.”
“Not even family? Your own child?” No matter how much he sounded like his mother, desperately begging after a man who’s never going to understand the value of everything he has, Omkara had to try one last time.
“I can have children later Om,” She shook her head, and her fingers tensely combed her hair once more. “Once I’ve made my place in the world.” When he didn’t respond, she tried to offer him a faint, shaky smile and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Please Om, for me?”
This time, he brushed off her touch, and stared at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Perhaps Mr. Oberoi had been right in calling him his mother’s copy. After all, he had offered his heart in a platter to someone who was as ruthless as his father was. How wrong had he been? She was not giving him space, but keeping him as a decoration on her achievement display. She did not demand emotional involvement not because she understood his fear, but because she didn’t have any. She had never earned her place, instead he had given in to his long buried need of being loved and placed her at a pedestal that she did not deserve.
“When is your assignment starting?” He asked her, in a small voice, that threatened to crack the very next minute. Riddhima sighed in relief and leaned her head on his shoulder.
“Next January.” She beamed as she looked up at him.
“Then have the baby,”
“Om!”
“Have the baby, and leave. I’ll take care of my child. You can do whatever you want after that, make whatever place you want to make, go wherever it is that you’re going.”
“Don’t be silly Om, your family’s never gonna agree!”
“They are my family, and therefore it is my problem. You don’t have to worry about it. In fact, you’ve never been much worried about me have you? Kher, that’s not the whole point. I’m not going to let you kill my baby for your goddamn social service!”
“You’re being impulsive Om.”
“And you are being evil Riddhima, please let’s end this argument here. I hate arguing with people who don’t give a damn. Just give me these few months of your life and me and my baby will never bother you again.”
Waving his hands in the air in frustration he left the room, the door shut after him with a bang.
He had been right about love all along. It was an illusion that made you feel the most flawed person is the most perfect in the world. It was selfish really, wanting someone to act the way you imagine they are. But the pain, oh, the pain when they break your heart! But then again, he had never been in love with Riddhima. Had he been, letting her go would not have been so easy. Had he been, he would have given in to her manipulation and agreed to take the life of his unborn child. Had he been, he would have sacrificed his own morals for the sake of her, just like his mother had done for so long.
No, it had not been love.
Love wasn’t so hallow. Love wasn’t so numb. Love made you smile wistfully as you burn. Love made you die willingly. It was a self altering sort of drug, that changed the centre of your world. Omkara tasted that love, the moment he held his daughter for the first time. Love, gripped your heart like a vice, squeezing it, filling it to the brim with warmth, stinging behind your eyes, tingling beneath your skin, sizzling in every breath you let go, soaring higher with every moment you live.
The baby had his eyes, and she held his haze unblinkingly with those. Her tiny, warm fingers wrapped around his index finger, as she tried to put it in her mouth. Neither of them needed words for that feeling, as he bent down and touched his lips to the layer of thin and softest of hair laying curled on her forehead, as he felt a tiny heartbeat, right next to his own. She smelled like life, a warm weight of hope in his hands. And he knew, he would die for her and still be happy about it. That, was love; the one which gives you reason to live for.
For a tiny fragment of a second, he felt sorry for Riddhima. She did not even look at her baby, the resentment brewing in her fired by her ego had been too important for her. She would never get a taste of this feeling, never experience what it is to love. As she sailed away to those unknown horizons of her aims, she had no idea what she was leaving behind. Perhaps, she never will.
For some reason it did not bother him anymore as he looked back down at his daughter, and stroked her cheek with a gentle finger...the rest of the world slowly blurred away. Then he was sure of it, he had never loved Riddhima, to begin with.
“What are we going to call her?” Shivay asked softly. Omkara turned to look at his brother an found his soft azure eyes filled with wonder as he gazed at his tiny niece. Shivay had touched down a couple of hours ago, straight from one of his conferences in London.
“Pari,” he whispered in a thick voice, his emotions choking him as always. “She is my Pari.”
**
Across the oceans, things weren’t so serene at the Oberoi mansion as a restless and aggravated Tej Singh Oberoi paced his study. He had sacked four employees, cancelled three meetings and broken a few dozens of stuff in a matter of hours. He had always known Omkara was going to ruin him. Exactly how far and how badly, he only found out now. The boy had always been an emotional fool and Tej had been a bigger idiot to believe that ambitious girlfriend of his was going to change his mind. He had kept too many expectations from Riddhima, and what did she do, leave the country leaving behind a new born baby for them to look after? Tej almost had a heart attack as he thought of the consequences of this scandal on the share market, on his public reputation, on the family image and most of all on his dreams of making Omkara the Oberoi heir one fine day.
“Jhanvi!” He yelled, brandishing another Paris made tea set on the red Persian carpet. “Jhanvi!”
The door opened gently and to his horror instead of his seldom sober wife, it was his sister in law who walked inside. Pinky and Tej shared a bond that was far from cordial. They had no respect or love lost between them and sure enough neither was the other’s friend. There was a time when Tej dismissed the mere existence of the woman considering her a village idiot, but it was before she most cunningly sent his wife and two sons into a self imposed exile for almost three months, before he successfully blackmailed her into revealing their location. Ever since then, they had been two players playing the same game from the opposite ends, both trying to play the kingmaker for the respective sons. At the moment Tej was a point ahead, as he still held the most valuable trump card of this entire game. The truth of Shivay’s parentage. It was the same thing which he used to blackmail her then, it will be the same card that he would play if Pinky ever tries to crown her son.
But something in the air, and Pinky’s eyes, told Tej that the balance would shift in a few moments. Adjusting her glittery shawl a little tighter around her shoulders, Pinky beamed at him, self inviting herself in and making herself comfortable in one of the armchairs.
“Itna early mornings why are you shouting Jethji?”
“Just get lost Pinky!” Tej mumbled, trying to locate the phone he had thrown away a few moments before.
“Oh my Mata! Aap ki Image ka Oh My Mata toh hone wala hai Jethji, Hum toh aap ko kuch helps karne aay, thi...aap hai ki hum par hi barks kar rahe ho!”
“Tum aur help?” Tej said sarcastically. “Why would you help me suddenly, huh? Itna humdardi kiyun jag gaya dil mein?”
“Look Jethji, aap ki family humari family, aap ki respects humari respects.” She beamed again. “Aur, iss mein toh hamari bhi benefits hai”
Now she had Tej listening. He looked up at her interestedly, squinting to concentrate. Even to Tej she sounded Pinky now, who would be interested in deals not charities, who would give something in expect of an adequate return. 
“What do you want in return?”
This time the woman’s grin was truly twisted and self satisfied.
“Dekhiye Jethji, aap ki izzat ki toh Oh my mata kardi Om ne, ab jo bhi bachi kuchi hai usse repairs karne mein hum helps karenge, badle mein aap hamare kuch secrets na forgets kar denge.”
“Matlab?”
“Matlab, iss problems ko jab hum solves kar denge na, after that, aap Shivay ke bare mein nothings tell karenge.”
“Oh,” said Tej, finally catching up with this woman’s twisted idea of helping family. “Let me hear your solution first.”
“It’s not likes yeh problems peheli baar hua hai. Isse pehele bhi iss ghar ke bete ka bachcha hua tha, thab aap loog kya kiye the?”
“Pinky!”
“Get him married, if the baby has a mother, no one’s going to question about it.”
“And who’s going to answer that mother?” Tej snapped. “Who will marry him now?”
For that Pinky beamed again.
“You Oberois have no idea how lucky you are,” she muttered. “If I say I know someone who’d blindly walk into marriage with your nalayak beta, Jethji?”
“Kaun?”
“Hai ek ladki, jo paagalon ki tarah pyaar karti hai usse. Haan waise, aap ki status ki toh nahi hai. Teek se, utna bethna bhi nahi aata. Humein usse brush up kar ke society mein introduces karna honga. Par, to become a man’s shield what’s better than a woman blinded in his love?”
Tej thought for a moment, the silence stretched on as Pinky victoriously watched the conclusion forming in his head. The way the corner of his lips twitched was a tell tale sign of him balancing probabilities.
“If you’re wise Jethji, this damage repair marriage of yours could be turned into the fairy-tale wedding of the decade. Soch lijiye, chote sheher ke wo kya bolte hai Cinderellla, getting married to her prince charming...sapno ke raajkumar.”
“Omkara nahi maanenga.”
“People can die for their children, shaadi kya cheez hai?”
“Press?”
“Wo meri aadi jethani aapki full beloved hai na?”
For the sake of the situation Tej let the remark pass as he gritted his teeth.
“Kya khayal hai Jeth ji? Rishta bhej doon?”
“Hmm, do it fast Pinky. When Omkara returns everything should be fixed here. Spin it such a way that no one can refuse.”
Pinky clapped her hands, contend with her own talent at crisis management.
“Don’t you worry Jethji, aap na iss Pinky Singh Oberoi par trusts rakhiye. Bhaki hum takes cares karenge.”
She fluttered off, swinging the end of her shawl and almost collided with one of the domestic help.
“Kya hai Raam? Eyes nahi hai kya?”
“Ma’am woh Omkara sir ke liye ek aur letter hai...”
Pinky’s frown softened into a calculative smile as she stretched out her hand to snatch the letter.
“You know the drill right Raam? Kissi se ek words nahi,” she placed her finger on her lips as she tucked the letter away on her clutch. Nodding the servant went off to tend to some or other pending work in the household. Pinky took out the letter and stared at it.
“Ab toh isse answers send karna padenga!” She muttered to herself, thoughtfully.
**
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Thanks for reading!
Love,
Sakura