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Struck by the Rainwater [ARHI OS]

aamir18 IF-Rockerz
aamir18
aamir18

Joined: 17 January 2010
Posts: 8053

Posted: 23 June 2013 at 5:31am | IP Logged

This is totally dumb and out of nowhere, but I really wanted to pen it down. It's not FF or SS worthy, so it's just an OS. I hope you enjoy reading this! Do comment/like Smile

Shit.

She had done it again. His drunk, petty, and immature girlfriend had once again proved herself successful in creating an unnecessary, public commotion. Arnav Singh Raizada disgustedly watched Lavanya as she rolled around on the bar's floor; her skintight, leopard print dress riding up her legs, catching the attention of many passerby of the opposite sex. Her dark makeup was smudged messily around her eyes, her ruined red lipstick suggesting that she had been vigorously kissed, and she was laughing like a complete lunatic at the ice that had fallen from her glass and was melting into a puddle on the floor. He hid his face within his hand, muttering curses at having to babysit a woman only a year younger than him. Concluding that the whiskey had at last hit her too hard, Arnav casually swung the drunk, giggling Lavanya onto his shoulders, ignoring the thumbs up that were flashed at them as he exited the bar. 

Everyday he would ask himself why he put up with her, why he involved himself with an airhead like Ms. Kashyap. But he knew the answer by heart. Business. It was only proper if the leader in the world of fashion linked his arm with the best of the modeling world. Lavanya, was undoubtedly, beautiful. Perhaps, one of the most beautiful women he had ever dated. But beneath her perfectly shaped lips, light brown eyes and size zero figure, she was empty. Nothing but a friendless woman with a drinking problem and a life that would be forever scandalized on the gossip section of masala magazines. He knew she was there only to keep his bed warm and his employers intrigued. Eye candy at its finest. Delicious until it wears out and leaves you with nothing but a soggy paper stick to chuck into the trash. Arnav was cruel, but as a business tycoon, he had to be. 

He dropped his load into his Escalade, passing her a plastic bag to ensure his leather seats are not ruined by vomit. Annoyed by her incessant giggling, and desperate for peace of mind, he shut the passenger door and took out a cigarette, the fire of his lighter radiating the darkness enveloping him. And then he saw her.

Beauty. Striking beauty. Hair the color of midnight and eyes the color of fresh mowed grass, speckled with hints of brown and grey. Tinted emeralds. She was dressed minimally, her long legs hidden in the depths of a mustard colored, baggy salwar, but the curves of her waist defined beautifully by the dark navy kurta that accompanied it. Her thick hair was held loosely in a long plait along her back, a few loose curls left astray, whipping around her flushed and ruddy face due to the winds. Her ears were adorned by the most intricately carved jhumkas, small and subtle, delicately swinging from side to side as she swayed down the desolate sidewalk. She chimed, the clinking of her colorful glass bangles orchestrating with the ringing of her payals, most probably hidden in the weight of her shapeless salwar. With her agile stride, she seemed to dance to her own music. 

And she was smiling. The most beautiful and enchanting smile, for absolutely no reason. It was addictive; Arnav felt his own lips pulling up of their own accord. The stranger passed him silently, the sway of her hips and the gentle movement of her braid capturing her admirer completely.

And is if God wanted to send a sign, rains poured suddenly, and while Arnav cursed under his breath, the girl who had passed him spread out her arms in a futile attempt to feel every drop of rain possible against her petite body, the runaway strands of hair now drenched and clinging to her smiling face. Dazed, he thought he heard the tinkling of distant wind chimes, only to realize it was the stranger's melodic laughter. Arnav was mesmerized, in complete awe of her finding happiness in something as commonplace as rain, something he had learned to take for granted since he cried on seeing wet, stubborn dirt on his new boots.

She cupped her hands to collect the water droplets to splash her face, swung her drenched braid to resemble a sprinkler, and leaped from the muddy puddles carelessly. And for the first time in his entire life, Arnav Singh Raizada closed his eyes and attempted to feel the drops of the warm rain against his face, the burnt out cigarette forgotten as he raised his hands to feel the water coursing through his open fingers. , The smooth movement of the water along his open palms seemed to soothe away a hidden, long forgotten sting.

He felt his mother. The tears she would shed when she saw her son happy, winning his badminton competition, coming first in his A-Level examinations. Tears of happiness. The upmost happiness.  He opened his eyes, fresh, salty tears mingling in with the pouring rainwater. But as he turned to see the striking, lively girl with the long braid and baggy salwar, he found emptiness.

She was gone.

Perhaps she was all a figment of his imagination. Perhaps not.

Perhaps she was an angel sent by his mother

But he knew this girl had brought back something he hadn't felt in years.

Khushi. 



Edited by aamir18 - 23 June 2013 at 5:35am

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