"Shivaay?" Om switched on the brighter light of his studio. He looked at his brother sitting on the small couch and his surprise grew. "What are you doing here? It's so late."
Shivaay just smirked. He arched a brow. "I can say the same. It's late. Why did you come here now? Especially today?"
Om chuckled. His brother never took anything lying down. Not even casual questions. Sitting beside him, he shrugged. There was no particular reason for him to come to the studio today. He glanced at the time. Or tonight. It was just that his euphoria was now wearing off. It had been a monumental day for all of them. Rudra, his brother, his friend, his little child had finally tied the knot with Bhavya. The celebrations had lasted for a week. They had finished their last event, the grand reception today. After meeting the Crème de la crème of the country, clinking champagne flutes and posing for innumerable photographs; Om had expected to be dog-tired. The twist in the tale was that he wasn't. Gauri had fallen asleep in ten minutes but he was wide awake. So he decided to come to the studio to see if he could paint something. Or at least write.
"Couldn't sleep," Om answered. Then he narrowed his eyes. "What about you?"
Shivaay sighed. "Me too. I tried very hard but I couldn't sleep. Maybe because my adrenaline is still pumping. I cannot believe that Rudra is happy. He is married. I am so grateful to God."
Om stared at him fondly. Shivaay always found so much happiness from others. It was so endearing to see him have more feelings for Rudra than their own parents. No wonder Rudra had sent the invitations under Shivaay and Anika's names.
And who was going to tell him that they were the ones happiest to see him with Anika? A few years back they had almost given up on seeing him with Tia. They had given up on their dream of ever seeing him happy. Hell, Om didn't think Shivaay was capable of being happy. It wasn't like they didn't want to fight for him. It was because Shivaay didn't want to wield his sword against their family. And they didn't want to disappoint Shivaay. Om and Rudra didn't have anyone but him. Om knew that he simply couldn't lose Shivaay.
His heart throbbed. It was a tough period. But it all didn't matter now. Now, when he saw Shivaay with Anika, the smile never leaving Shivaay's face - it all just felt like a bad nightmare. Perhaps, even forgotten. His brother didn't just look happy, he was happy. Om was beyond grateful to God.
"Ye..."
Om was about to answer when his eyes fell on a thin book lying beside Shivaay. He pointed at it. "Hey, what is that?"
The light in Shivaay's eyes intensified. With a smile that could and did warm the deepest corners of his heart, Shivaay slowly pushed the book into Om's hand. Lightly holding it, Om checked it out. He brushed his fingers over the worn-out, slightly torn edges. He placed it on his lap and stared at it. An old sketchbook. He carefully opened it.
That is when it clicked for him. It was his!
Gasping, he turned to look at his brother. "Shivaay! You saved this! What the hell?! You saved it?"
The smile remained on Shivaay's face.
Om's heart thudded. He didn't know what did he do to deserve Shivaay. Overwhelmed, his shaking palm caressed the first painting. It was an abstract art with three boys playing cricket in the field. Sighing, he turned the page. It had three boys eating out of one plate. Then three boys dancing. It went on. It all felt like a picture journal of their lives then.
Shivaay scooted closer to him. Om silently turned the page. The last page had a painting of a turbulent, stormy ocean and a single boat sailing in it. On it were the familiar three boys. Om smiled wryly. The tensions had risen in their family then. Everyone was fighting. But they still had each other. Come to think of it, it had always been them against the world.
Shivaay put his palm on the boat and lightly caressed it. Om stared at him.
"I couldn't throw it. I can never throw anything that ever meant so much to you, Om..." he gruffly muttered. "But more than that, I saved it for our future selves. So that one day we can see how far we came."
Om held Shivaay's hand. Tears welled up in his eyes as he saw once again, how much his brother loved him. Om loved him too. It was evident from the innocent paintings of a nine-year-old. Rudra and Shivaay were his world.
"It was always just us..." Shivaay remarked rubbing Om's cheeks to wipe the tears away. "But I wish I could tell these three boys that now they have found beautiful partners to share this stormy life with."
Om giggled through his tears. Shivaay was right. At some point, he thought that his life was over. But then Anika, Gauri and Bhavya had come and made it bearable again. It wasn't just the three of them now. The additions were late but so worth the wait and pain.
"Toofan toh nahi thame par iss choti si kashti ko kinaare zarur mil gaye, Om..." Shivaay whispered, his eye shining with tears too.
Not able to form any words, Om nodded. He pulled his brother in a hug and cried. He didn't know whether it was happiness, relief or just the nostalgia that crushed him. He deduced, it was a mix of it all. Yes, they had come very far. Yes, there was peace.
He let go of Shivaay and hastily picked up his brush. In the dark of the night, the canvas came alive with those three boys on a boat. This time, however, they all had companions. The ocean didn't look turbulent. The boat didn't look small. The sky wasn't stormy. There was a shore in sight. Om's face lit up.
Shivaay wasn't a poet but he had to agree with his words - unki kashti ko kinaare mil gaye the.
