Chapter 14: The Dying Hope

77 4 3
                                    

Day after day he roamed about in the arctic cold, his soul filled full of bitterness and despair. ~ Upton Sinclair, The Jungle

~§~


Love, to him, was an emotion so entirely detached from himself, almost like a song that had gone out of fashion, no longer heard or relevant in any part of the world that it surprised him whenever his heart warmed at her presence. Or it turned cold. He couldn’t tell. Some things never changed. His breath stopped every time she appeared before him or was it his wish that it did for good? His stomach flipped whenever their eyes met like a teenager when he saw her years ago, her eyee sifting through the leaves and roses. His gaze followed her, a regular path his consciousness knew as though since eternity, in hope of shattering her trance, in hope of snapping her out of her meditation, so that she could know he was around. Nothing ever changed. For him and her, it was all the same. Ranveer must have been stuck in a time loop. His life never changed. The events repeated themselves constantly before him until exhausted. Eventually, he decided to give himself a break. That, however, was barely helpful. The urge to see Ishaani grew stronger every moment. Ranveer couldn’t wait to see her even though her eyes held nothing but indifference for him. The irony was truly bewildering. Nothing about him had ever changed, but nothing about her was the same.

He wanted to go and see her, for once. For tonight. Maybe never again…

But it was different tonight. He hadn’t been to Ishaani’s — no, Shikhar’s — house today. It was the day of Ganesh Chaturthi, a day he had celebrated his entire life, because it meant blessings of the almighty, where he could forget about the miseries of life and bask in the joys of the festivities. As a child he used to miss his mother on the occasion, but would be distracted by the continuous rants from Ishaani, his father’s blessings, and his Mota Babuji’s kind words. The Parekhs, and Baa in particular, never approved of him being so close to her family, but was rendered powerless against her son’s wishes who wanted Ranveer to participate in the festivals as joyously as his own family did. Every year, Ranveer used to wait for the day they would welcome Ganesha, Ishaani by his side, and Mota Babuji and Falguni Ma next to her. Ranveer would spot his own father in the crowd with the rest of the servants, wistfully hoping and praying the day would soon change. He didn’t want his parents to be standing in the crowd and being forgotten because they didn’t have the money the rich families did. A part of him often envied the people with the fortunes, the struggles they didn’t have to go through for the simplest things such as respect. Why was it so hard for him and his family and those like him? One thing Ranveer had changed since he returned and acquired the Parekh Mansion: Equality on all fronts. No one was to be treated the way he had been treated by his masters. The people who worked for him deserved respect, good money, and good food. They didn’t have to stand in the corner and pretend they didn’t exist. The servants of the house were to take the blessings of Lord Ganesha along with everyone. They were, after all, devotees in this place, way above the boundaries humans had created for themselves.

Despite his obvious displeasure Ranveer couldn’t deny the best days of his life were all those years ago when Ishaani was beside him. The only and only woman he loved. His chest contracted at the confession.

He remembered the moment that everything changed last year. Ranveer wondered how could a year have passed but nothing had truly been different. Yes, his business was flourishing, the dubious, jealous voices elevating as his work grew leaps and bound, his name on the top as the new King of Dalal Street. He was a household name, media dying for his interviews, which thankfully Puneet handled efficiently. His only encounter with media was last month, where he had to declare Ritika as his wife, so the world would know she was his wife. He had gone there as Ranveer Vaghela, a name no one cared about, someone that held no value. The businessman of the year? They would forget about him soon. Between him and Ritika, nothing had changed either. He saw her angry often, and knew it was his fault. She didn’t deserve this stress, not because of him because he was too coward let things go.

The Exilir And The Poison Where stories live. Discover now