THE RUNWAY BRIDE

PERFECT

Sanjana works. She's a workaholic.

Last night, a wonderful Friday night, and like every normal high-class girl, she was scheduled to attend 14 parties. She got drunk in none. She was all business.

What a bore!

And for today, as she checked in the morning, she had nothing much to do except go through some old files (a lot of them) and attend a Fashion show.

Correction: The Fashion Show.

The whole town was waiting for this show, it was after all Shivaay Singh Oberoi's precious little sister's first ever social event and to add a cherry on top, Priyanka Singh Oberoi was the debut designer!

Obviously, Sanjana is not not going to attend her rival's event! Somebody has got to kindle the fire!

It was 2.35 p.m. when the door bell rang in Sanjana Saha's Mumbai home.

She got off from her desk, putting down the papers back into the files and rushed (with poise, duh) to open the door to let her older half-sister in.

Sanjana almost rolled her eyes at her sister's fake smile, but she was too perfect for that, obviously.

"Business or Pleasure?" She asked her.

"That's not funny," said Mrs. Sarika Gandhi.

"I wasn't trying to be," replied Sanjana, curtly, as she and her sister knew very well there was rarely any 'pleasure' experienced from their meetings.

Sanjana moved towards her kitchen with Sarika tailing behind her, humming an old song and grunting at Sanjana's wall of memories with obvious displeasure.

"When are you going to take these down?" Sarika questioned her younger sister who seemed to be stuck up in the past.

"Never," Sanjana answered without needing to think twice.

The wall of memory was filled with neatly arranged pictures of her dead grandparents, her dad, who passed away last year and her fiance who died in an accident three years ago.

Sarika was an insensitive bitch, who cannot understand that it is okay to grieve. And Sanjana was too obtuse, emotionally, to understand that one can move on.

This wall wasn't the only one in between the half sisters, though.

It was their mother and Sarika's husband. Both of them were scheming maniacs who just wanted business out of pleasure! They pawned over Sarika too much, and Sanjana couldn't help but pity her oblivious sister for it.

Mrs. Neha Dutta (it was Saha and Kapur before that, her father's surname was long forgotten for anybody's memory let alone the 26 year old Sanjana) was a conniving bitch. The woman was in her late fifties and was already planning to trade her third husband for a fresher one. She used men for their money, period. Mr. Arvind Saha, Sanjan's father was Swift enough to divorce Neha and move back to London with full custody. Sanjana pitied her sister for having a douchebag father who fled with a diamond mine heiress.

Her legacy was not something she was proud of. On the outside they were one of the most respectable business families in India but on the inside, they were rotten swines.