After It All

Chapter One/ A Journey Back Home

"Bhai, I need to you to come back right now. It's...It's dad. He's sick"

Aditya rubbed his unshaven beard and shook his head. It was 3 am and he had just finished his last drink at the club. He was headed on his way home, but decided to return Arjun's call after seeing 15 missed calls in the last 20 minutes. He glanced at his reflection in the side view mirror. He hadn't slept properly in two days, red rings forming around his light brown eyes, while his haggard face needed a good shave.

"Hold on Arjun, say that again" alarmed Aditya asked the driver to stop the car. He must have heard wrong. He got outside, and walked away from the car to ensure some privacy.

"Dad....he's...he's dying" continued Arjun, his voice wavering as if he were on the verge of tears, "I got a call from him today, he's moving back to Mumbai tomorrow. It's cancer....he's....he's stopped all his medications"

Cancer? Why hadn't anyone known about this?

"Cancer?! What?! How long, when...what" Aditya spat out like rapid fire. His brain trying to catch up with what he had just heard.

"I don't know, he didn't tell anyone. That's why he moved to Delhi, for treatment" Arjun continued, his voice becoming smaller.

"Bhai, I know you and dad aren't on speaking terms. But he wants you to come back to Mumbai. He wants all of us together. You, me and Yashbhai"

Aditya cursed himself for not calling his father after moving to London. Granted they had parted on terrible terms, but he still loved his dad. He knew his father had moved to Delhi two years ago on the pretense of wanting to take a break from managing the business. Clearly Aditya hadn't bothered to follow up on what exactly he meant by "break".

"Don't worry, I'll be there on the next flight Arjun" Aditya wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew that he needed to be in Mumbai, "We're going to figure this out"

"Okay bhai, I'll be waiting" with that, Arjun cut the phone.

Aditya closed his eyes, the rush of car lights flashing through his lids. He took a deep breath in and sighed. Mumbai, the city he once loved and now hated with a passion. It was time he went back.

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Yash slowly put down the phone, took off his glasses and got up from his desk. He walked to the large high rise window of his office which overlooked the busy Mumbai streets. Hooda Enterprises was one of biggest buildings in the city and he had the best view of anyone in the building.

Slowly, he took a sip of the pungent wine in his hand and sighed. Tears formed in his eyes and he slowly wiped them away. Uncle was dying.

He put his glass of wine down and reached for the folder on his desk.

"STAGE FOUR LUNG CANCER" read the bright red letters at the top of the medical report. He scanned the rest of the report, telling him how long treatment had been going on for, and what medications were being used. The most recent entry indicated a choice to cease all treatment available.

Yash recalled the day when Uncle had seen him on the street, begging. He had only been 6 at the time and Uncle had been stopped at a red light. Uncle had been smoking, his windows rolled down when he called out to Yash, who had been intently eyeing the fruit stand nearby.

"Here my son, go get something to eat" Uncle handed him some money, but Yash hesitated.

"Nahi, mein nahi le saktha" he replied, backing away. Scared incase the man hit him. You could never trust the rich.

"Kyu? I see you are hungry, a young boy like you needs to eat something so you can become stronger beta" replied Uncle, his eyes twinkling in the bright sun.

Yash came closer as he wiped his dirty hands on his tattered shirt. He gingerly accepted the money.

"Tell me, what is your name?" he asked, "Do you go to school?"

"My name is Yash. Mein school mein nahi jaata sir" he replied, his attention wavering between the man and the fruit stand.

"And your parents?" At that, Yash looked down and blinked back tears. His parents were both dead, dying of drug overdose. He was all alone and it made him sad.

"Nahi hai" he replied, but looked back at the man with determination. "But it's no problem sir, I will become a big man one day, just watch" Yash grinned and Uncle grinned back.

"Big man eh?" replied Uncle " Well, what if I helped you out then"

And with that, Harshvardan Hooda adopted a second son, one he loved just as much as his first born, Aditya.

Yash closed the medical file slowly, and slipped it in the drawer in his desk. He picked up the wine glass once again, humming a soft tune only he could hear.

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Zoya stepped out of the car, her hair blowing wildly behind her. She heard the door open on the other side and rushed over to catch Harshavardan Hooda attempting to get out of the car.

"Uncle, hold on, let me help you" She manned the wheelchair from the driver and helped him get inside.

Harshavardan smiled as he gazed up towards the Hooda mansion. His beloved home, where Anjana and him had raised their 3 sons' and built a life. Anxious to get inside, he let Zoya help him.

"Uncle, your house is beautiful" Zoya pulled the wheelchair to the middle of the foyer, and made her way into the grand entrance. Enthralled, she looked at large family portrait hanging above the fireplace. Uncle had showed her pictures of his family before, so she knew everyone. In the center was Anjana Hooda, beside her a smiling Harshvardan Hooda. Surrounding her was her youngest born, Arjun Hooda, long locks falling in his eyes while he smiled innocently. Opposite him, their middle adopted son Yash Hooda, who stood tall and proud with an air of royalty around him. And with his hand on her shoulder, closest to her stood Aditya Hooda, her eldest born and heir to Hooda enterprises. His light brown eyes looked and dimpled smile made him look devilishly handsome. Standing beside him with a hand on his shoulder was Pooja Hooda, Aditya Hooda's wife. Former wife.

Zoya turned away to see Harshvardan uncle pull up beside her. He sighed as his eyes landed on Anjana, the love of his life.

"I will see you soon my love" he said, a tear rolling down his eye.

Zoya crouched down and put her hands around Uncle. She leaned on him as she spoke.

"So which one of your son's is the cry baby?"

"Kya?" replied Harshvardan, wiping away the tear, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm sure one of your son's picked up the crying gene. You must have passed it on to one of them" she teased. He laughed in response and she tucked his blanket in tighter. Slowly, she brought him into the house and he felt better already. 

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Happy Reading!