7

RvR khatam hone ki khushi mein ✨

-• dance with me •-

Rudra

wars end brutally

on both ends.

scars of victory look no different from scars of defeat.

I've started to feel a lot recently.

Love has made me vulnerable. Or maybe accepting that I can feel too, has what made me vulnerable. I had no idea emotions could be so inexplicable. I see doors I can't open. I see paths I can't walk on. I'm stranded. I need to keep going, but the road that is open isn't of my choice, and the road I want to follow is not mine. So what's the point? If I'm not going where I want to, is it even worth it? Why do I bet my entire life on the destination I never planned to reach?

Will it give me the end I'm seeking? The peace I'm searching? Will the air there be still even when I'm not? Will the storms there not shatter houses? Will I hear screams of joy there instead of horror? I've spent my life sitting up at nights. Will I be able to sleep there?

My eyes shift to the nightstand. The supplement bottle of sleeping pills stands atop. I've never tried sleeping pills before. I had been put to sleep with enough sedation as a punishment for most of my life. I can't let my guard down anymore. The thought of falling deeply unconscious to the point I'm detached from the reality scares me. I need to keep my mind awake so I can protect my body.

I've been alone all my life.

But I've started to feel a lot more lonely these days.

Does that makes sense?

To feel lonely when you've always been alone. How can a person who never had a company feel the absence of a companion? Perhaps, a beginning, that's dying to meet its end? Or maybe, an ending, that never had a beginning to begin with.

A story, written solely for its tragedy.

I smile ruefully. I never thought my thoughts could run so deep. I'm revealing myself to me. It's not a beautiful feeling. Quiet, tragic actually. Like the story itself. All the parts, ugly, painful, disgusting, as the reader, and a writer, I get to meet myself from both the perspectives. And as I keep turning the pages, I get desperate to know the end. Because I'm tired.

God, I'm so tired.

I lower my head in the space between my knees. The scars on my body all come alive. They burn, glowing like embers from within my clothes. I can spot them out without needing to look at myself naked. I hate myself so much I can't bear to live with this body anymore, for the story it wrote isn't my favourite, will never be.

I get up from the bed and strip myself bare. Then I walk into the bathroom and stand under the cold shower. Placing my hand on the tiles, I lean in, putting my head under the cascade of cold water. The bellowing heat in my body cools down. I graze my face, down my Adam's apple, touching every scar stitched on my body, and as soon as my fingers flitter across those uneven bumps, memories fill my head.

"Look at me! Keeping you alive is a task! Do you get it!? A task!"

"I wish I can kick you in the face. But I need it."

"You've a reflection of you dwelling outside happily in the world, acting as you. It pisses me off."

"Looks like someone fucked you last night. Good. You needed that lesson."

I inhale a shaky breath and raise my head, helping the water wash off the tears rolling down my cheeks. I hold it in. I'm good at it. Fuck that, I've mastered the art of it. But the more those haunting memories pour in, the more tears I spill. And then I give up. In the safety of my shower stall, I brace my arms on the wall and bury my face in them, my body heaves from every inch. I sob. I sob because it's been so long since I've sobbed this hard. I cry with everything in me. My shoulders shake, my breath stutters, but I don't make a noise. Even to the silence, even to the absence in my room, I don't show myself falling apart. So I keep those sobs muffled, my soundless cries unheard over the sound of shower.

Eventually, I fall quiet. My body goes limp and I sit down on the floor, butt naked, my arms draped across my pulled up knees. The steady jet of water keeps streaming down on me.

I stare mindlessly at the wall in front of me. And it costs me great strength to pull myself back together. I come out of the shower, stand in front of the wall length mirror in my room and see the scars stand out under the bright, beaming lights. My hand brushes aloft, touching the cuts, gashes, burn marks, and countless wheals creating a timeline of my past on the flesh of my body. They don't hurt anymore. And yet I never forget about them. I know about each one of them. Even with closed eyes, I can put a finger on the smallest of my scars and tell a story behind it.

Disheartening to have a memory so sharp that remembers all the good and bad, and focuses on the bad because it was a lot. I'd rather forget everything and be clueless every time I look at my naked body. I'd rather be confused than know everything and torment myself with that realisation day and night.

But at least I've something good to remember.

I wonder what Tara is doing right now.

The last I talked to Tarun, he told me she has enrolled herself for dance classes. She's also taking self-defense lessons from her brother. She has a keen mind. If she concentrates, she'll do it. But I'm afraid this change isn't a choice.

The ocean of her existence is ever so changing, like tides, sometimes high, sometimes low, sometimes absolutely quiet. I like it when she moves a lot, unable to stand still, wheels for feet, her eyes wide and bright, giggles bursting forth her lips, gliding down the optimism that glows around her like a halo. But I know she has calmed down, to a new low where light hesitates to reach. I don't want the darkness to consume her. It's safe, but you don't live there, you survive. And she isn't meant to survive.

Absolutely, not.

She defines life in the most elegant way.

By living it to the fullest.

God, I miss her.

I miss her so fucking so much it feels like I'd die of suffocation if I don't speak to her.

Entering the closet, I put on a fresh pair of comfortable clothes. With my phone in hand, I leave the room for some open air. My feet lead me outside the palace. The guards bow deeply when they see me coming. One of them follows me when I step inside the gardens, standing at an adequate distance that his presence isn't intruding.

I sit on the wooden bench under the pavilion and unlock my phone. My thumb hovers over her name in the contact list. But the determination that had been brimming within deplets at the lack of confidence. I hesitate.

Even if I call, she won't answer.

And if she does, what will I say to her?

Sorry?

I scoff. She definitely doesn't want me saying sorry again. I've apologised enough. Allowing my guilt to speak will only create more distance between us. I want her to know I'm still waiting here, for her reaction, for our impending confrontation, for her anger, and eventually, her acceptance.

Feeling eyes on me, I look up, and the guard quickly changes his line of sight.

"Do I look that miserable?" I ask him.

He flinches in attention. "I apologise, Prince Shourya. I didn't mean to stare. That was rude of me."

I shake my head and put the phone back inside my pocket. My hands come together to interlace in between the gap of my knees. I lean forward. "What's your name?"

"Amir."

"Where are you from, Amir?" I pry curiously.

"Faridabad, Hariyana." He answers.

"How far is it from here?" I question.

"It's a drive of four hours and thirty minutes. If you don't stop to rest."

"Do you have family there?"

"Yes," he responds.

"May I ask who do you have in your family?"

He nods. "My ammi, abbu, a younger sister, my wife, and now a baby on the way."

I smile. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." He smiles back shyly. He's a good looking man. With a height and a posture that will easily win him a spot in the army. That is, if I'm assuming right, he likes the patriotic work.

"How old are you?" I further inquire.

"I'm 29."

I nod. "You're young."

"Not as young as you." He jests.

That elicits a chuckle from me. "Trust me, it's no good at this age either."

"I know. I've been there." He smiles back.

"Yeah? What does it feel like?"

"Confused. Aimless. Insecure." He shrugs.

"How about miserable?" I add.

"That never ends."

We both end up laughing. A man behind, I'm guessing his supervisor, clears his throat and Amir quickly seals his lips, standing straighter. I decide not to disturb him any longer. He must have his own work ethics to follow.

The sun shines behind the horizon. Silver lining coats the thick clouds. I watch the morning as it wakes up the world. Wings flutter, chirps fill the quiet ambience, and slowly, gradually, the rays fall on my eyes, making me squint them to look at the dawning sky.

I'm disturbed by the sound of horns. Three black SUVs drive in. I get up with a frown. The second car's window falls low and I meet a familiar pair of eyes. She raises her slender hand to wave at me. My brows pull together in perplex. The cars stops in the porch in line. And I see the Chairman come out personally to attend them. While the guests walk inside, the lady says something to her father, points at me and receives a nod in response. The Chairman gives me a long glance before taking the guests inside.

Dressed in a black off shoulder jumpsuit, hair tied into a pony, she approaches me confidently. Amir steps aside to let her in.

"Pleased to meet you again, Mr. Shourya Singh Rajawat." She holds out her hand for a shake, her lips curling lopsided in a smirk.

"Niharika Chandra?"

She nods, her hand still stretched forward.

I join my hands together. "Khamma Ghani." And I walk away. Amir follows me quietly. He stops at the threshold, making me halt too.

"Excuse me," I call out to the security head. He rushes forward to attend me. "Amir here will be my personal bodyguard from now on."

Amir gasps.

The man blinks, appearing speechless."Bu-But your highness, he's not trained-"

"Then train him. But I want him." I state. "Amir, on your post in an hour." I look the older man in the eyes. He nods obediently, a fascinating vigour sparkling in his once dull brown eyes. As I make a move to walk back inside the palace, my eyes meet the pair staring at me from distance. Similar to the last time, she watches me intensely. "And get someone to escort Miss. Chandra into the palace." I turn around and head inside.

My feet stop in the living room. I notice Mr. Chandra, my namesake father, and the Chairman sitting around, talking over a cup of tea.

"Oh, there comes my grandson." The Chairman introduces me.

All heads turn.

I plaster a professional smile on my face and approach the men. "Shourya Singh Rajawat." I bend over to touch Mr. Chandra's feet.

"Bless you, son. I've heard a lot about you."

"Hopefully, all good." I feign playfulness in my tone.

"Now, why don't you ask that to the person who first told me about you?" He nods at someone behind me. I turn around and the smile on my face falters when Niharika walks in.

I don't like her.

She regards me like a challenge.

It's so clear in her eyes.

At least Akansha had the decency to acknowledge our differences, lack of interest from my side, and give up when I cut off all the contact. This one doesn't look like she'd give up ever. She has eagle sharp eyes. I know I've to settle down if Taranya vehemently rejects me, but I'd rather it be the docile Akansha than this crooked, confident, cynical woman.

No, it'll be Taranya.

I won't live a life like my father did. Marry a woman I didn't know, had no interest in. And definitely not like Taranya's father. Marry a woman who was obsessed with him so much she ruined three lives for her unrequited feelings.

The story will be different this time.

And so will be the ending.

I stiffen when she walks closer and holds out her hand again. I look down at it before meeting her eyes. She smiles. "Niharika Chandra."

I curl my hand into a fist.

The unwanted audience waits for my response.

I unclench my fist.

Our hands meet. "Shourya Singh Rajawat." Her smile grows. She shakes my hand firmly. I quickly retract.

"Mr. Chandra, you've had a long journey. Why don't you go to your rooms and rest a little bit?" The Chairman offers.

"Yeah, sure. I'd really appreciate some rest right now." He gets up. I step aside and turn around to face the elders. From the corner of my eyes, I notice her step up next to me, her feet aligned with mine. I glance her way. She smiles up at me. My jaw clicks. "C'mon, sweetheart, let's go catch some sleep. You had two long back to back flights. I'm sure you're exhausted."

She looks away from me and nods at her father. The butler leads them upstairs.

The Chairman walks up to me. "Good job."

I'm brimming with questions from inside but hold them in.

"Though we lost quiet a big share of equity to Yuvraaj, he got us the land."

I nod. "That was the deal."

"Always knew you had it in yourself." He smiles. "But we can't let it stay with him. With this housing society project, clear up all the debts and buy back the equity. Even if you have to double up the amount, do it. But the majority shares of Rajawat Estate should remain within Rajawat Estate. Got it?"

I nod.

"And I had no idea you influenced the daughter to catch the eyes of her father?" He smirks. "Sometimes you've to get dirty in the business world to rule it. And if things go right, maybe she'll become your wife?"

I clench my jaw. He notices.

"Alright, try your luck with that illegitimate daughter of Chauhans. But once that chapter is over, choose this woman. She has got what it takes to be the Rajawat's Daughter-in-Law."

"And what about Akansha?" I frown.

"You cut off the branches that grow too long but serve no purpose." He pats my arm before walking away.

Virendra walks over to me. "Did you seduce the daughter to pocket the father?"

"Of course not." My face screws in disbelief.

"That's what I thought. You're not the type to do that." He nods, looking at the Chairman's retreating back. "Does that mean she's interested in you?" He muses thoughtfully. "Looks like we got the second Akansha. Careful, this one's look capable enough of defying you." He snorts out a chuckle before walking past me.

I rake a troubled hand through my hair and grip at the roots.

Rushing upstairs, I slam my door close. I can't even go to the University anymore. We got done with the first semester day before yesterday. Diwali might be the festival of lights for the world, but for me, it was always the same. This time I had a hope. But then Niharika walked in, blowing off that flickering flame with her purposeful gait.

I get my phone out and call Tarun. He answers on the third ring.

"What?"

"Where is she?"

"With me and Janet. We're in the supermarket."

I feel breath own me again.

"I need to hear her."

"What?" He repeats in disbelief. "No. It's late and the supermarket is almost empty. We're about to head home. I can't. She's just around-"

"Keep me on the line. Don't talk to me." I whisper.

He sighs in defeat.

I go to the bed and sit at the end of it. My feet start to shake restlessly. Impatience draws me closer to the edge. My heart picks up an unruly pace.

"They don't sell these designs, Janet. Let's go somewhere else."

I sigh softly. My body quietens.

"Yeah, you're right. How about we check the Indian market two blocks away?"

"I told you na, we should have gone there first."

That 'na'.

I smile.

No wonder her eyes are blue. Like the ocean, she touches the very soul of every place she visits. She took my love as a souvenir, and left me stranded here hopelessly hoping for her return.

I stay on the call for over fifteen minutes. Then I hang up on my own when the distance becomes unbearable. Fuck. I'm in a long distance relationship without even committing to one.

Dropping my phone on the bed, I sit at my desk to get some work complete. I don't leave my room for the next two days, turning away the maid every time she comes to invite me for a meal. I make up an excuse to avoid going out.

But then Diwali arrives and I've to leave my room for the Laxmi Pujan. My eyes don't stray futher from my phone. And once I've sat and performed the rituals as the Prince of Rajgarh, I go back to my room.

Only to come back begrudgingly dressed in a navy blue suit, for a party that lights up the entire palace like it's a newly wed bride.

After meeting up with the important people, I sit at my table and quietly enjoy a flute of wine. Well, that is until, a sight in blue reduces the distance between us, revealing those flaring brown eyes and joyous broad smile.

I freeze.

Her hand comes out, a certain grace in her action.

"Dance with me."

But at the end of the day, you'd still rather have the scars of victory than defeat.

For a great sacrifice demands a greater end.

Akansha 2.0 💀😀

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