Years after the Kapoors established themselves as the rich, new money family in the country, they found something unexpected. Love. It sustains a person. It gave them hope, that even after everything they've been through, there is happiness, somewhere in their stars.
Ruhaan Kapoor was the founder of the Kapoor hotel chains. He did everything to give his siblings the life they could only have dreamt of. But it only made him neglect his own self. He found love a little too late. But he did, and that changed everything. Mahira was the girl he never liked. She was annoying, he often stated. She never listened and did whatever she liked. He later realized those were the things he loved the most about her.
They bore a son, the eldest, Advait Kapoor. Unlike his father, Advait took no interest in business. He leaned towards humanities. His fascination with history led him to love political science and then, politics. Advait was the youngest elected member of parliament at the moment and he wished to be the youngest chief minister of Maharashtra too.
With the looks of a Vogue model and brains of a New York times editor, he made his mark in the country. He had his problems too. He was often questioned about his motives for gaining power. Does he actually want to do good for the people? A man born in privilege and raised in luxury, what would he know about suffering? He knew enough. His words say so. Even now as he stood in front of atleast seventeen thousand people, his words didn't deter.
"I don't need to go through something to empathize with you all. I know it's tough, I see it with my own eyes, and I can't promise to change it, but only because I don't make empty promises. Though I promise to try. Life is difficult, but with the basic help, we can move forward. I know the biggest problem is water shortage and I also know that my opponent has made promises to uproot that problem. But you tell me, didn't he say the same thing, last time? Isn't that why he won the election? What has he changed?"
The murmers around him satisfied his wicked mind. One way to win was to defeat your opponent. His rally went on for another hour before he walked down the stage towards his car. His campaign manager sat beside him. Her shoulder length hair were pin straight and her saree was pleated to perfection. She was ten years older than him, and she was an old player in politics.
His assistant sat in the front, beside his driver. He was a boy in mid twenties, who was in desperate need of work, and so Advait gave him the opportunity. "Get a water tanker to every street in this slum, every single day, I'll pay for it." Advait looked out the window, waving and smiling at people as his car passed by. His assistant sputtered and his manager almost jumped out of the car. She turned to man she has worked with for the last seven years.
"I think you don't understand Advait, there is an actual shortage of water."
"Then arrange it. Talk to the municipal office, everything is available for a price, cut some costs from the richer people, they hoard on water tanks as it is."
"They are the ones that elected you. If you lose their votes-"
"I'll gain more. If I can supply water to these people," he point out his window towards the people that are gathered around his car, "I'll be able to gain more votes. Do you know how many rich people live on the upper side? 2000. And do you know how many people live in this slum? 32,000. I'll be drowning in votes. Do as I say."
His manager huffed and tried to put some more sense into him. "Those 2000 people made you MP. You can't piss off the rich."
"I am not leaving them in drought, I am just setting up a limit for their resources. And I don't want to be MP, Sonakshi. I want to be MLA. I want to become the Chief Minister. Now do as I say."
"You just want to win."
The car drove past the people, reaching the highway. Advait finally let his polite smile slip, turning to smirk at his manager.
"Everyone in politics only wants to win. I'll just pitch some good in between."
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Sagar Kapoor turned his hobby of reading books into a career. He established the biggest publication house of the continent and that led him to the roads of love. Aditi was just his favorite writer, he only wanted to work with her. That was until he met her. She was just like him and yet so different. She never took his kindness for weakness, she understood him and he, her.
These two extremely sweet people bore a thunderstorm. Their daughter, the second born of the generation, Trisha Kapoor. Unlike Advait, who had traits of both his father and mother, Trisha often seemed like she fell from the sky. She was not creative like her mother, or calm like her father. She was a woman who had a purpose and who worked to get it to fruition. By hook, or by crook.
Trisha let her uncle rest. She took over the Kapoor hotel chain five years ago and raised it up to exceptional heights. She touched every new milestone, with the end of her pointed stilettos, and still aimed to climb higher. She expanded her business, brought in profits and if she had free time on her hands, she crushed misogynistic bugs. And today, she seemed to be really free. She was the woman, men trembled at the sight of. Well atleast the ones that had the misfortune of meeting her.
She ate arrogant, patriarchal society men, raw for breakfast and that is exactly what she planned on doing today. She walked in on a meeting that was scheduled for 4'o clock, an hour late. She wasn't busy, and was aware of the time, she just didn't like the man she was to meet, so she sat in her office and enjoyed her coffee, watching this man get impatient through the cctv footage.
"You are late." The man huffed the very second, she settled down in her seat. Her eyes snapped up to the man, her expression plain and yet she mocked him with her eyes. He was the one desperate for this meeting, he has some guts snapping at her. Of course she arrived late, but beggars can't be choosers. This man had to be made aware of this famous statement. The man ground his molars at her lack of response. "Is there someone above you that I can talk to about this deal?"
Her expression didn't change. This was her daily routine, if anything, she was bored of this by now. "You can talk to me. I am the CEO." The man scoffed in amusement. "Kapoors let a little girl run this business? No offense to you sweetheart, but this is a cutthroat world, girls like you only end up on the dumps."
Something finally made her smile. Malicious and evil, but a smile. "Yes. And here I am, on the verge of bankruptcy, begging another successful hotel owner to buy my drowning resort line." She mocked him with no smile and so the man knew he should shut up. "Guess the cutthroat world dumps men like you in the very same trash can."
The man infront of her quietened down. He needed the money or he would end up on the streets. Trisha had read his file, and the deal was a useless one. Buying their wasteland of a resort would do her no good, and if she had wanted to sympathize with him before, she didn't now.
"I wouldn't buy your resort. We have no deal. I request you to pack up your mess and leave." It wasn't a mess. Two of his files were just a little out of place and her OCPD was skyrocketing. The man turned to his lawyer shocked and then to the woman who alone had more power than a thousand men like him. His tone a complete one eighty from what it was before. "I would lose everything. I'll have to live on the streets. Please don't do this."
Trisha stood up and buttoned her suit jacket. "I didn't become a businesswoman by sympathizing with people. I took difficult decisions and I made my name. I am sorry but I cannot help you."
Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked out. She might as well have walked all over the man's hope but that is what business is, and she has had to prove herself on every occasion in this man's world. She owned every bit of the image she had created for herself and she will stand by it. The most dominant woman in business, the one that never gave up her control.
Except on one occasion, and to a very annoyingly gorgeous man.
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Ishaan Kashyap didn't have to work the way Kapoors did, but his battles were different. He grew up neglected by his own parents and still found his footing. He promised himself to never let his child suffer the way he did. Riya made sure her husband's fears never came true. Aside from the banter the two had with their child, he was given everything he could've ever wanted.
Born to two lovers who stood the test of time, was the third born of the family, Kunal Kashyap. He might not be a Kapoor in name, but every bone in his body screamed his lineage. He grew up with his cousins, and yet came out to be the laid back, funny one. That was an achievement on its own.
But that wasn't all. Kunal held his father's business. The steel industries that he owned were the largest metal supplier to every major production company in the country. He was rich, funny, handsome and he had his mind always on the other side. The door to his office banged open and his assistant walked in.
The twenty seven year old man was just done with his boss. Because for some reason, this dude refused to take life seriously. "You dropped your drink on the one of the biggest iron mine owners of the state? Do you know how pissed that man is?" Kunal leaned back on his chair with an easy-going smile. "It was an accident. It's not my fault that the man can't move past mere, happenings."
His assistant glared. "Well I remember him mentioning that you very deliberately dropped your drink on him and rather than apologizing, you pointed towards the bathroom and shoved him into it." Well, atleast the man didn't mention what had happened afterwards. Let's just say, he went back home with alot of bruises and a broken nose.
"And did he mention why that happened?" Kunal questioned his assistant who shook his head with a frown.
Good for him, or I would've broken more of his bones.
Kunal is known for throwing the best parties in town. And when they are turned to be business meetings, he surely lost interest. Alot of businessmen are old and disrespectful. The man in the very question, had groped a waitress Kunal hired and he found the girl crying in a corner. She had begged him to not tell anyone and so Kunal had simply beat the man up in the washroom and then sent him his merry way.
Kunal is the charming, funny person. Everyone perseves him to be carefree, with no thoughts in his head. Sure he has a brain than lives in the gutter but he has a gaze as sharp as that of a vulture. He sees things others miss. People underestimate him, and he uses it to weaponize himself. He is said to be harmless and all his harmful tactics rest underneath that cloak of self assurance everyone has. They never see him coming, and then he swipes the floor from right underneath their feet.
"Go home kid. And if that man calls again, tell him to go fuck himself. I don't care for him, or his mines. They'll be gone before he blinks anyway." His assistant narrowed his eyes. "What did you do, sir?"
"Just ruined his life."
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Sahil Kapoor was a man of very few words. Well, that was the case until he fell in love with his own assistant. Naina was clumsy and unorganized and the very opposite of everything Sahil was. But love finds a way, and theirs did. He almost lost her but she came back for him, and neither of them had turned back since then.
Even though the man had been known for his harsh and strict nature, Sahil Kapoor melted into a puddle the day he held his daughter for the first time. The fourth born in the house, Samiksha Kapoor. She is the exact copy of her mother, the same sweet words, similar soft smiles and an eternal love for animals. The only thing she didn't get from her mother was clumsiness. And thank God for that!
But her eyes came from her father, the same green that can get people lost into the trails of a forest. Samiksha had a tough life, unlike her cousins, confidence didn't come to her along with the Kapoor name. She was sweet and kind to the very few people she had met. After she was homeschooled, she needed to see what she could do with herself.
She wasn't meant for business or meetings, nor could she be a model like her aunt. So she chose the one thing she loved. Cooking. Sahil hired a Michelin chef to come home and train his daughter with all the patience in the world. Samiksha was the best at cooking and baking in the whole family. And so her career took a turn from there.
She walked into the familiar house and dropped her bag on the counter, her only friend was utterly rich and had offered her the job of her dreams. She was a celebrity chef now. She had cooked for two different actresses before landing this job. Her name was well known, and not because of her surname but because of her work.
The house was usually empty, save for the owner and the housekeeper. She was always thankful for it, she did not wish to pass out on the job because she cannot handle many people. Her Enochlophobia was her biggest insecurity, and there was nothing she could do to erase that. Years of therapy had eased her a bit. If she knew the people individually, she could handle them together as a crowd. But people she had never met? Them? Together? They were her biggest nightmare. She opened the fridge to take out a bottle of water when the housekeeper greeted her.
The woman was in her late fifties and she was a kind person to spend the day with. The cleaners usually came on Sundays when Samiksha had a half day so she didn't have to face anybody. "Good morning, Samiksha beta. I thought you wouldn't come today. Sir left two hours ago and said he would come back tomorrow." Her face didn't betray emotions though her mind sulked.
I woke up this early for nothing.
"He didn't tell me anything." The elder woman nodded, sympathizing with the young girl. "He said he texted you. He didn't want to call this early in the morning." Samiksha pulled out her phone and surely enough, there was a text.
I won't be home today Sami, got some urgent work. Have a day off, watch that new film you were talking about and I'll see you tomorrow.
Samiksha huffed down into a nearby chair, cursing herself for not being attached to her phone all the time. Maybe, this generation being glued to their phone has some good to do? She turned to the elder woman and her lips tilted up. "What are you doing today, Janvi aunty?" The woman in question simply shrugged.
"Wanna watch a movie?"
"Here?"
"Ofcourse! He has a theater room he never uses. Let's Netflix and well, only that."
"I don't even remember the last time I watched a film." Samiksha smiled sweetly before standing up and taking the now excited woman with her towards the room in the back. She learned this from her mother.
A single drop of kindness contributed enough to fill an ocean.
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Ruhaan and Mahira bore the eldest child of the family, as well as the youngest. Both their children were poles apart. One knew everything and the other wanted to know everything. One was calm, the other was a jumping jack. One was a man of honor, the other was a woman of will. She did what she thought was right, and she was proud of it.
Isha Kapoor was the youngest, and a brat in her brother's eyes. He didn't say it to offend her, he said it because she was pampered more, and he was jealous like every other elder sibling. He was over it now, but the word stuck with her. And to prove her brother wrong, Isha kept away from the family business. She wanted to make her place on her own and so inspite of being a Kapoor, she found a job in another company and worked her way up. Well, she did that most of the time.
Isha sat at the dining table with her uncles and aunts as well as her parents. Her eyes were glued to the newspaper where she found articles for possible job opportunities. She noted the ones that appealed to her, in her diary, planning on calling them and sending her resume later. Her engineering degree was sitting and eating dust. She needed a good job.
Sahil stared at her from across the table. The girl was amusing, to say the least. Isha sat in between her mother, Mahira and her aunt, Riya, unaware of both their curious stares. Naina cleared her throat. "What are you doing, Isha?"
"Trying to find a job, chachi." The girl didn't look up, she just made Sagar sigh in annoyance. He passed five thousand rupees to Ishaan who pocketed the money with a smile. Sagar's luck in bets wasn't good. He should stop. He made a bet with Ishaan, that this time Isha would keep her job longer than two months. He clearly lost.
"What happened to your previous one?" Isha looked at Aditi and then around the table. "Well, I left it." Sagar nodded sarcastically. "And why was that, beta?"
Isha knew she was caught. "Well, fine. They fired me." Sahil dropped his head on the table. This wasn't new. Isha has changed twenty three jobs since she finished her degree. They asked her to work in the family business but she refused, everytime.
Ishaan shook his head. "What did you do this time?" Isha shrugged innocently. "Nothing. They were being unreasonable. First they dropped an important proposal on my shoulders, one that wasn't even part of my job description and then when the day of the presentation came, my evil witch of a boss yelled at me for falling asleep. It wasn't my fault that I hadn't slept for thirty six hours, only because I had to do someone else's job!"
Sahil frowned. "She couldn't fire you for something like that." Isha took some deep breaths and calmed herself down.
"Well, when I felt she went too far, I yelled back at her, telling her she had no management skills and her assistant could work better than her. I threw her cold coffee, that she asks her poor assistant to make five time a day, on her pristine white shirt and called her a bitch. So yeah. She fired me. But in my defense, this wasn't the first time she was a bitch to me, she always had some bone to pick with me, she particularly targeted me because she thought I am rich and spoilt, so all the pent up anger just came out."
Riya patted Isha's back. "That's my girl. You did good."
Mahira hummed too. "You have no idea how much I wanted to do that to my boss." Ruhaan gaped at his wife and sister. "Shut up you two. Stop teaching her the wrong things."
"It's not wrong papa. She deserved it."
Ruhaan wanted to bang his head somewhere. "Find a job Isha. And for the love of God, keep it for longer than a month. Or you'll be joining our company and I won't listen to any objection." Isha snapped her mouth shut and stared at the newspaper. She just needed to find a job. She can keep it for more than a month. She just needed to keep her impulsive behavior in check.
How hard could that be?
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Word count- 3,519
Next Update- Sunday, 2nd July.