"DIDI....DIDI...." Gauri hugged Ann. "So how do I look?" Gauri looked beautiful in her off white cotton saree, that had gold flowers embroidered by hand. The sky blue, blouse had Edwardian lapels and adorned with bead work. She had a fine pearl necklace belonging to Ma adorning her slender neckline. Her petite fair face was accentuated by slight make up, and red lipstick. She was wearing long dangling earrings. Her hair was tide back in a stylish bun, making it look like, she had shorter hair from the front. Despite all of this, Ann thought her sisters smile was what made her look like royalty today.
"Oh my darling Chutki...You look so beautiful! You look exactly like a princes!" She squealed feeling so proud and danced around her holding her shoulders.
" Oh my god Gauri...I just warded you off evil eye! I told you not to see her! Not before we are heading out to meet your future husband!" Avantika Ma shouted at her. "Ma Didi will give me her blessings! She's my lucky charm!" Gauri ignored her mother and kissed Ann on her cheek.
"It's okay Gauri ,Ma must be just nervous! You know she vents out this way! I am used to it...You know I love you always! Look what you did...Ohhh I have lipstick on my face now! Ewww" Ann started wiping the stain off, hiding her face. Gauri knew, she secretly wiped off her tears as well .She gave her sister a big hug again.
"Didi...I wish if you are with me! I am really really nervous! I heard that he's so educated, and he came back from Cambridge. What if he asks me questions? What if he asks me about books? I haven't read a single English Novel!" Gauri worried. "Hey look at me! You are smart...beautiful...and you are the perfect wife! IF he can't see that he doesn't deserve you! And if he asks about books...You tell him the truth, that you love reading local literature...like...like...Ravindranath Tagore's Gitanjali!" Ann reassured her.
"Actually Didi my friend Kusum gave me some poetry written by a new poet...He's writing under a pseudonym so no one knows who he is. He's amazing! But he writes a lot about..." She hesitated. Ann knew what her younger sister was referring to. Nationalism amongst the young Indian elite was growing. What she didn't understand was every time someone speaks about it, around her, they hesitated, as if she was some spy for the British crown. In her heart and soul she was an Indian, yet she was treated like some kind of a traitor.
"Errr....Gauri I think Ma is waiting! You should go! By the way you look so beautiful! Don't be nervous! He'll be an idiot if he doesn't like you! I love you! Good luck!" Ann hurried her little sister, before Ma's wrath fell upon her. She waved goodbye to Gauri and went to check up on her father, who was having one of his bad days.
Anns father, Harshwardhan Trivedi's mind was deteriorating from early stages of Alzheimer's disease. Once he was a notable official who worked at the British High commission. He had studied in Cambridge, when he met her mother Elizebeth, whom he dearly called Lizzy. When they returned to India, as expected, his family didn't accept her. As the sole heir of the Trivedi family, he was expected to marry a Khandani Bahu. All hell must have broken lose, when he turned up with a middle class, white, woman, who had no idea about the traditions, or culture.
But he fought for his love, he didn't give up. For the longest time he was banished from the family home,but eventually they accepted his choice. After all he was the sole heir, and perhaps they hoped that this would be just a phase. Surely the white woman was going to hate the spice, the smells, the people, and going to run back to her country. But for their dismay, Lizzy embraced, Bombay, as her new home. She learnt the language; though she spoke funny, she knew enough to communicate. She started to work as a teacher for poor children, who couldn't afford school, and ran lessons in the evening at the local church. She embraced a land far away from her home, just to be with the man she loved.
Soon enough, Ann was born. Ann's grandmother had been praying for a grandson. They say that she was more disappointed to see that she was an imprint of her mother, than the fact that she was born a girl. The day the riots occurred, Papa had been away, for official work, and when he came back, the love of his life was found beaten and stabbed by the rioters. He had warned her not to step out, until the tensions died down, but her duty of care towards the children she was teaching had taken over. Ann was merely 4 years old when her mother was taken. Taken by hate, and revenge, towards the crown.
Even before Papa could over come his grief, her grandmother had arranged his marriage to Avantika Ma; finally the Khandani Bahu she was hoping for. "Ann needs a mother...you can't raise her alone!" She had convinced him. For Anns sake, he remarried. Avantika Ma had to live through taunts, and whispers about her marriage to a man who loved a white woman for seven years until she proved them wrong by bearing Gauri. Ann was eleven when her baby sister was born, and they've been thick as thieves since then.
"Papa...How are you?" Ann greeted her father with a peck on his cheek. He was sitting alone in the study, and dozing off. "Lizzy?" He opened his eyes. Dr. Arora had explained that the disease was as such he will be lost in time on certain days."No Papa...It's Ann...Come it's time for your dinner, and then I am going to read your's and Mommas favourite poems!" She promised. A weary old man took the hand of his daughter with a smile. "You know young lady...You remind me of my wife Lizzy...She She looked a lot like you...But she...she had...blue eyes...blue that sometimes turned gray..." He muttered on. "Yes Papa, She did...How about I read some John Keats to you today? Ode to a nightingale?" She helped him sit down on the dinner table. " Yes...Yes...I'd like that!" He beamed.
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Oberoi mansion was decorated and was incomparable to a palace. Tej Singh Oberoi, had invited the society's elite, his business partners, British officials, to welcome his son back, who just graduated with flying colours. He was soon going to start running the company together with him. "Omkara...where is your brother?" Tej asked from his least favourite child who was hovering about in a simple cotton kurta. "Bhaiya is getting ready Papa..He'll be down soon!" Rudra ran in to give his father a hug. Tej ruffled his hair and hugged him back.
"Rudra...Since Bhaiya is back, you can probably learn a thing or two from him! I want you to get good grades, and go to Cambridge just like him!" Tej pat his cheek, and Omkara smirked. "What Omkara? Do you have something to say?" Tej gave him a glare. "No just they say, ignorance is a bliss! I envy your ability to ignore what imperialism is ripping out from us!" Om retorted. "Oh not today Omkara! You are standing where you are because you are an Oberoi! If you are that ashamed of us being in business with the British, why don't you just give up your comfortable life here, and start sleeping on the streets with your so called friends, who are just ignorant imbeciles!" Tej bellowed. Father and son was about to tangle their horns, when Daadi walked in. "Stop now you two! Are you forgetting? Trivedi's are coming today! Hopefully my Billu is going to love who I picked for him!" She said giddily, and Om gave a secret look to Rudra who winked. "Where is he now?" Daadi wondered.
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Last thing on Shivaay's mind was marriage, and it hasn't even been twenty four hours since his return, his Daadi was hell bent on him meeting some girl she picked for him. He loved his grandmother dearly, and feared her the same. She was probably the only person who could give him an order and he would oblige. But her this wish, he couldn't full-fill. He didn't believe in marriage. The cause he was here for was much bigger. His family certainly had reaped the benefits of imperialism, but the times were changing. Perhaps his father, was ignorant, and oblivious to the looming dangers ahead. They had to choose their sides wisely.
Having minimal council representation wasn't enough, he knew political reforms, will give more power to educated, rich Indians like him when the time comes. If he played the game right, he can be in a position of power. In order to achieve this he will have to manipulate, the young, hot headed, nationalist Indians. Shivaay's motives of meeting the youth leader today was purely selfish. It was not about repression, from the British government, for the movement. Growing up as an Oberoi, he barely even felt, what oppression was. He had everything and anything he ever wanted in life. If he were to say, that he understood the struggles of these young Indians, would be a bloody joke. He didn't and he simply didn't want to understand either. But he knew that this was the right, time...this was the opportunity he was waiting for. He looked at himself in the mirror. His emerald blue eyes, looked back at him with a devious glint. He was dressed in a white cotton high neck shirt, and brown linen trousers. He ran his fingers through his perfect tresses, and fixed his hair one last time.
Instead of using the door, he walked through the french windows that opened up to his balcony. Rudra, waved at him from below, and he gestured at his little brother to keep it quiet. He climbed down, the pillar that was entwined with decorative vines, and stepped on to the ledge of the window belonging to the second floor study. He almost slipped and lost his balance, and he could see the hustle and bustle of the guests through the glass.
"Bhaiya be careful! I didn't know that you have become a nerd in Cambridge?" Rudra teased him. "Oh Shut up Rudra...where is Night?" He asked. "He's just outside the gates, I got Khanna, to bring him out from the stables...Just be careful, here put your legs on my shoulder!" Rudra turned his back and transformed himself in to a human ladder. "Hupp! Steady brother mine!" Shivaay finally got down, with the help of his little brother. He gave him a quick hug and beamed.
"Okay...Now when Daadi and Papa start looking for you what am I going to say? Our Bhabi to- be is arriving in like an hour...Are you sure you'll be back before that?" Rudy asked worried. "You'll think of something! I love you!" Shivaay grinned like a Cheshire Cat, and ran towards the gates, where Night, his black stallion awaited. "Thank you Khanna! You have taken good care of him! Night! I missed you buddy!" He placed his forehead on the horse. If there was any living being whom he could call a friend, it was Night. He got on the horse, and rode away in to the darkness.
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Shivaay, rode through some unkept trails towards, Kurla. He was meeting the youth leader at an abandoned mill there. He navigated his horse through the dark woods. If one thing he was truly blessed by birth, apart from the silver spoon in his mouth, was his photographic memory. He only needed to look at the map once, and it imprinted in his brain. Every street mark, every cross road, he could take to reach his destination. Night suddenly neighed and came to a halt. " Woah, buddy...you are okay...there is no one there...keep going!" He prompted. Night hesitatingly, trodded on.
When he finally reached the mill, he got off, and pat Night on his back, gesturing him to wait for him. The horse neighed again, almost as if to warn him. He knocked on the door, and a young man in a white cotton Kurta, opened the door ajar. "I am here to meet Daksh Kurana! Password is Swadesh" He said. Soon enough the young man invited him in. The mill though old and abandoned, was lit up. There were wheels of cotton...bags of rice...and firearms. Young Indian boys, some squatting on the floor, cleaning up the weapons, glared at him as he walked by. The two young men escorting him to the leader, started whispering behind his back, "Oye how can you be sure he's not aadhee jaati? Look at him?Can we trust him?" Shivaay stopped abruptly, startling them who almost bumped on to him. "Brothers...Let me tell you one thing...the colour of the eyes, doesn't define the blood running through ones veins! And the blood running through me belongs to mother India!" He clenched his fist and pounded his heart with it. He was purposely playing the part.
The act of patriotism was merely an opportunity, to rise to power, and he just happened to know the art of manipulation very well. Machiavelli's The prince, was one of his favourite books, and he wrote his thesis on it. After all his ultimate goal was to rise to power. The sceptical lads, gave him an approving smile, and mimicked the gesture, placing their clenched fists on their chest. "Mr.Shivaay Singh Oberoi...Welcome! Welcome!" Daksh pulled out a chair. "You have been most generous with your donations, and the support for the movement! I am glad, though you are henchmen to the British, you haven't forgotten your roots! Bring Shivaay Saab a tea!" Daksh yelled across the room, and a skinny, young boy came running to him with a cup of tea. Shivaay observed the rim of the small glass, and hesitated. He was suddenly starting to get worried about all the diseases he was exposed to in this damn place. He probably shouldn't drink this. "Drink Brother!" Daksh prompted, and he grudgingly took the glass to his hand.
"Daksh...If we are to execute this plan...You need to wait for the right moment, so you can make a bigger impact. If you go out now, you will be repressed in no time! It is important you wait! Be patient" Shivaay reasoned. Daksh who was sipping his tea, blurted out laughing spraying tea all around. "Aye...Shivaay Saab the political master mind...so what's this right moment How more patient you want us to be? These white demons, fuck OUR women, and make little white bastards run on OUR streets! Fucking ABOMINATIONS! We let them suck the blood, sweat out of our men...They import everything we can make here, and they make US pay for it...LOOK...LOOK at how my brothers are living...NOT everyone is privileged like you!" He snarled.
"Look Daksh...I can only imagine what it's like to live on the street, to live day to day...I won't get that! I agree...But I am also NOT looking away...I am here standing together with you fighting the fight! We Indians need political representation in the parliament, if we do, with the influence I have,and with money we can make it better! SO WAIT! I will tell you when it's the right time!" He asserted. "Also what's the point you have hundred weapons here? And about 50 men? You are going to fight the whole British Army with that? Don't be an Idiot! You will just kill yourself, and someone will put a poster saying DAKSH KURANA THE MARTYR! And Finish...Your dead! The movement dead...we all go back to square one! I will not let you do that! Not destroy what I worked so hard for YOU HERE ME? " Shivaay angrily held on to Daksh's collar and his men surrounded them.
Daksh glared at him for a while, and he could see the reflection of a fire burning in Shivaay's eyes. He gestured his men to calm down, and gave a smirk. He started guffawing out loud, and Shivaay let go of his collar. "A true brother!" He shouted...and hugged him. He whispered into Shivaay's ears, "Alright Shivaay Singh Oberoi...we wait! We wait for your signal! Now tell me what's your plan!". Shivaay nodded, and he sat down again. He took a paper out from his pocket, and placed it on the table. "Can you get this done?" Shivaay asked lowering his voice. "You turned out to be more dangerous than I thought you were Shivaay Saab! I'll get this done in no time!" Daksh started smirking again, irritating Shivaay. He knew behind the facade of patriotism, Daksh Kurana was also crazy. He had that constant fire burning within, him, that did not die down. He was craving for chaos. And a devious smile returned to Shivaay's face as he thought to himself, Chaos is a ladder! A ladder that he was willing to climb at any cost, and Daksh Kurana was going to create the chaos he needed.
Suddenly some of Daksh's men dashed in with a struggling little skinny boy. "LET ME GO! LET ME GO YOU NINCOMPOOPS!" He shouted and Shivaay looked at the boy surprised. How did this street rat, learn such a word? Then he realised, that this was the same boy who served the disgusting tea to him earlier. "WHAT IS THIS? Can't you see I am busy?" Daksh shouted at his men. "Bhai, See we found this one sneaking into that white witches night school again! That also in their church!" The men explained, and Daksh stood up.
"Arrrrgh...They try to brainwash us...OUR children...OUR future! I will BURN that witch to ashes soon!" He spat through gritted teeth. " HEY...DON'T CALL MY TEACHER DIDI WITCH!" The little boy defended his teacher. "See Bhai...She's already turning our ones into their side! But I already taught her a lesson!" The young man sneered, and the boy started crying. "What did you do?" Shivaay asked concerned that these idiots might have done something to sabotage his greater plan. " We threw rocks...scattered the whole class! I think the witch got hit on her head! She will think twice before doing night classes again!" The young man said looking victorious. "You did what?" Shivaay gritted his teeth and looked back at Daksh. " Daksh...get your lads in line! You can't afford to do this stupidity! You attacked a church? A white woman whose teaching these poor kids? Do you know how this is going to blow out of proportion in the newspaper? This will make them suspicious...This will put the public opinion back on their favour! ARRRRRGH Imbeciles! I am working with Imbeciles!" Shivaay yelled frustrated.
"Calm down Shivaay Saab...This woman is neither there or here..she's some half-caste! They wouldn't give a scrap about her!" Daksh brushed it off. "It doesn't matter Daksh! The point is we can't let anyone know what we are doing here, until the right time! If the word gets out, everything is going to be sabotaged! Tread cautiously!" Shivaay advised. The little boy kicked one of the men, who caught him by his collar and tried to slap him, and Shivaay stopped him. He knelt down beside the shivering, skinny little boy, "This teacher of yours...can you take me to her?" He asked and the boy nodded. "Alright...Next time I see you will be once your ready with this!" He gestured, at the paper he handed over to Daksh earlier. "Now let me go and fix this!" Shivaay said. "Alright Shivaay Saab...then see you soon!" Daksh looked at the glass of tea lying on the table, that Shivaay hadn't even taken a sip of as he walked out with the little boy.
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"So what's your name?" Shivaay asked trodding along with Night, as the little boy walked beside them. He was scared to get on the horse, and he was faster on his little feet. " Saahil...My name is Saahil...I hope teacher didi is okay!" He worried. "So what does this teacher didi of yours teach you?" He asked intrigued, perhaps Daksh was right, maybe this woman was brain washing the young kids, to be loyal to the crown from a young age. "Today...we were about to start Gitanjali..." Saahil said, with a twinkle in his eye. "Teacher didi she says, knowing English, will help us get jobs when we grow up. So we learn the poems in English...The other day we just finished Mahabharata...She said we are going to do Sarasvathichandra next week..." And he stopped looking worried...he wondered, if he spoke too much. After all this blue eyed man, was with Daksh Kurana, who hated teacher didi.
Shivaay, found it odd. Teaching Indian literature, in English at the back of a church? What was this woman up to? And according to Daksh she was half Brit. "Err..Okay...You seem to like her lessons?" Shivaay asked. "Yes..she's the best! I love school! But we don't have enough money to go to school...I might not be able to be a Saab like you one day...But I am going to start my own business! I am going to start a soap factory! I am going to sell soap to the British!" He beamed, and Shivaay even felt his stone heart was warming up a little, at the hopes and dreams of a young kid. Whoever this teacher was, she seems to be inspiring them.
"We are here...It's over there....Come!" Saahil dragged Shivaay to an extension of the small church. It was a small room at the back, set up with some old church pews. A couple of lamps lit up the room. And the room smelt like lavender or was it Jasmin? He couldn't tell. " Teacher didi...Teacher didi!" Saahil saw his beloved teacher lying on the floor and ran to her aid. She was lying on her face flat on the ground, and Shivaay approached cautiously. If this woman is dead, he was going to get into trouble. Perhaps he should have left this thing alone like Daksh said. He can't have something like this on his record. "Miss...Can you hear me?" He knelt down beside her. He could see the woman was breathing, as her warm breath was making patterns of humid on the wooden floor. He brushed off her auburn hair, that was covering her face. She looks so at peace...He thought, as he helped Saahil turn her around. "Miss...are you okay? Saahil...Can you get me some water?" He asked the little boy, who sprang on his feet. As he bent over, he noticed, that she had porcelain white skin, like the full moon that was shining bright today. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and had sun freckles. Her nose was defined, and her lips were slightly parted, as she breathed in and out. He found himself staring in to her big eyes as the woman started to open them slowly. Her olive brown doe eyes looked at him perplexed. "Miss...are you okay? OUCH!" The next moment, she had punched him right on his nose.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" He sprang up on his feet, and made good distance from the mad woman, who had come alive. "You...You...Stay away from ME!" She started to threaten him deliriously. "Look Miss! I was passing by and saw that you need help! My name is Shiv...Err... Shiv...Yes..Shiv..." He decided not to disclose his identity yet. "And if you you tell me where you live I can maybe help you get home...I didn't catch your name by the way...you are...Miss?" He held on to his nose and pretended to play nice. If it was up to him, he would have just left her here. She looked like a woman who can take care of herself after all. "Um...Um...Sorry...I thought you were one of them...They started throwing stones...I..I must have got hit...I hope my kids...kids are okay...Ann...I am Ann! Arrrgh my head... " He noticed that she was starting to lose her consciousness again. She had a hand on the back of her head, and she collapsed. He poked at her with his foot, to make sure that she was truly blacked out, and looked around. He knelt down beside her again, and noticed that she was actually bleeding a bit from her head. One of the stones might have hit her hard.
"I got water..." Saahil came running. "Oh thank you!" Shivaay grabbed it and gulped it down. Saahil put his hands in air annoyed, "Oye..that was for teacher didi...not you!". "It's fine...She's okay...Let's not wake her up...Do you know where she lives?" He asked, deciding that it was better that the woman was unconscious. Who knows next time she will punch him hard enough to break his nose. His handsome nose. "Yes...this way!" He said. Shivaay lifted the woman in his arms, and despite what he was assuming, she was rather light and it was easy to carry her. She felt like a feather in his arms. He whispered something into Nights years, and the horse neighed. He carefully placed Ann on the horse, and she had her arms flailing about around night, not being able to stand straight. She kept sliding off from the horse back.
"Err..Mister..I think you should get on the horse with her..." Saahil suggested, and Shivaay reluctantly, and apologetically got on Night. The last thing he wanted was his dear horse to carry any extra weight. He got behind her and held on to Nights reigns, so she was protected in between his arms, as he rode. She finally leaned her head on his shoulder and he found it awkward that her lips were almost brushing against his chin. He kept leaning away, keeping distance and cursing his fate. There was something about this woman that made him uneasy.
The full moon shined over them, as they finally reached the Trivedi residence. It was an old family home, with a large garden. Strangely, he didn't notice any servants around. He would expect a khandani house like this to have a night guard at least. At the gate there was a worn out name plaque he couldn't read clearly. "Are you sure she lives here?" Shivaay asked Saahil, who nodded. He got off Night, and took Ann into his arms again. A strand of her stubborn hair went in his mouth and he spat it out. Some of the strands were stubbornly holding on to his neatly trimmed stubble. Even this woman's hair was annoying! The sooner he got rid of her the better!
He walked up to the door, and asked Saahil to knock on the door. No one answered. "Looks like no one is home! Should we just leave her here?" Shivaay asked, when little Saahil gestured him to follow him to the back door. He started to move a pot under the porch. "Hey...Kid...what are you doing?STOP...STOP IT!GET BACK HERE!" Shivay whispered, thinking this street rat was going to steel a bloody flower pot instead of helping him out! "I am helping you out!" He retorted, pulling out a key that was placed under the pot. "Err...that's wrong...It's breaking and entering..." Shivaay muttered. "Not if you have a key to the door!" And the boy made sense. They had no other option. He looked around one last time to see if the coast was clear. Saahil opened the door, and Shivaay carried Annika to the nearest divan he saw. He took out his handkerchief, and wrapped it around her head as he noticed that she was still bleeding a bit.
"Lizzy? Ann? Is that you? Is momma home?" He heard a voice of a man. "Come...Saahil...Let's get out of here! She'll be alright!" He made a quick escape. Saahil bid farewell, and disappeared back in to the darkness of the streets, and Shivaay finally rode Night back home. As the woman's home, disappeared behind him, he looked back one more time... "I hope she'll be okay"...He muttered under his breath, and Night neighed back is if to reassure him.
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Annika woke up, and she couldn't remember why she kept seeing a set of piercing blue eye staring a her. She touched her head that was throbbing and removed the handkerchief tied around her to stop the bleeding. It was a white cotton, with the owners, initials embroidered in Blue colour on the corner of it; S.S.O. She started recalling the attack on her class. Stones coming at her from every direction...Blue eyes staring at her...A man...whose face wasn't clear... "Arrrgh" She held on to her head, as she couldn't recall anything else. She saw her worried father, fallen asleep on the arm chair next to her. She stood up, and checked up on him first. "Papa...Papa..."
"Ann....you are okay...I was so worried...I tried to call the doctor...but then I couldn't remember...I couldn't remember his number..." He apologised.
"It's okay Papa...Nothing will happen to me when you are around! Come I'll take you to your room!" She helped her father settle.
Gauri dashed in through the door in tears. She was sobbing, and Ma was running behind her. She ran straight in to her room, and Ma stopped for a second to look at Ann appallingly from head to toe, "I knew your evil eye would ruin everything!" She spat through her teeth, hiding her tears. "Ma....What happened? Why is Gauri crying?" She asked worried. "It was such an embarrassment! Their son, didn't turn up for the party. We waited and waited, even after all the guests went back...But he never turned up! My poor Gauri...her heart is broken! It's It's ALL because of you! Manhus!" She cursed. Annika sighed, and made her way up to her sisters room. "Gauri...Gauri...Open the door Bachcha....She called her out lovingly. She twisted the door knob and thankfully it was unlocked. She saw Gauri, buried in her pillow, crying her heart out. "Hey...get up...get up! My little princess your tears are more worth than anything in this world. And whoever this Shivaay Singh Oberoi...who didn't even bother to come see you...to meet you how wonderful you are...He's an Imbecile! An Arrogant...Piece of..." Before she could complete Gauri had hugged her. Ann wiped her tears off, and hugged her tight.
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"Shivaay...I was not expecting this from you! I threw a party on your honour! And you don't turn up for your own party?" Tej bellowed in anger. "And YOU TWO...YOU HELPED HIM...DON'T LIE..I can see it in your eyes, you knew where he was! WHERE WERE YOU ALL NIGHT?" He demanded answers, from his prodigal sons. The three brothers kept staring at their feet. Finally Daadi approached him, with her watery eyes. He felt weak, knowing he had hurt her. She raised the three of them since their mother passed, with love only a grandmother can bestow upon them. She always protected them from Tej's wrath, but today she wasn't taking his side. Today she was disappointed. "Daadi...I..I am sorry!" He muttered.
"Do you know..how embarrassed I felt in front of the Trivedi's today? I don't care about the other fancy shmancy people your father invited! IT WAS THE FIRST MEETING!" She yelled at him for the first time.
"Daadi...I..I went for some important work...And" Shivaay started giving excuses making the old matriarch more red in anger.
"IMPORTANT? WHAT ON EARTH can be more important that meeting the future mother of your children? And I picked her myself! Don't you trust your Daadi anymore?" She started crying making him feel worse. If she slaps him it would be better.
"Daadi...Daadi...Please don't cry! I am sorry...I was on my way...and someone needed help...so I got late...You can ask Night! It was a girl...someone attacked her...I..I helped her get home! You wouldn't have want me to leave a damsel in distress out..alone...in the darkness? Would you? You've taught me better!" He tried to cajole her up, that usually works. Omkara and Rudra gave each other a look, and smirked, knowing their brother was playing one of the oldest tricks in his books.
"Shivaay...what you are telling me now...talk to your horse to gather evidence? WHO Do you think your Daadi is? I'm not having this conversation again, we are personally going to the Trivedi's tomorrow, and we are going to apologise. YOU are going to meet your bride! You hear me? First thing in the morning! And WEAR A SHERWANI!" She ordered him and huffed off.
"Humph! Not again...Omkara...Rudra...you were suppose to help me! I thought after this they'll break it off themselves, but looks like Daadi is not going to let go of this!" Om and Rudra looked at each other and looked back at him.
" Bhaiya...we are not miracle workers! We tried! Why don't you just tell Daadi, that you don't want to get married..like ever!" Rudra made a point.
"And Break her heart? No way Rudra...you know I can't see tears in her eyes...I just have to find a way, so they will break this off!" Shivaay sank into deep thought.
"Okay...So let's say you break this one off...what would you do next, When she finds the next one...? And honestly Bhaiya...She's actually very pretty...she looked like some princess from a story book!" Omkara blurted out.
"Princess? Seriously I couldn't care less even if she was an actual princess! Why don't YOU marry her instead? Will save me from my troubles!" Shivaay raised an eyebrow, and Om awkwardly scratched his head looking at his feet.
"So Bhaiya...seriously how do you come up with these stories to suck up to Daadi? Damsel in distress that was a good one!" Rudra laughed out loud, and Shivaay smiled back awkwardly. "All right good night then! Good luck tomorrow!" His brothers finally left him alone.
Shivaay, walked out to the balcony, and looked at the gleaming moon that was staring right back at him. He saw at a distance, Khanna was leading Night to his stable. He let out a sigh, and started unbuttoning his shirt. He noticed a long strand of auburn hair stuck on one of his buttons, making it impossible to undo. He recalled, the time the woman's hair kept coming his way, when taking her back home. Her hair smelled like lavender...or maybe Jasmin he couldn't tell. He pulled out the strand of hair stuck on him with all his might and shook it off. The strand of hair landed on the railing of the balcony, and started to glow in the moon light, annoying him. He glared at it for a little bit, and closed the doors.
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Pre-write
"YOU?" Ann shouted.....in awe.
"YOU?" Shivaay smacked his palm on his face.