SWASAN – CAPTIVATED FOREVER
Heyy, It’s Anjali back with the first chapter!!!
Thnxx for comments and to my silent readers….
PROLOGUE LINK :
Before we start, I just want to tell you guys that whatever I talk about wars and all are completely fictitious. I mean no disrespect to any soldier or their sacrifices for us civilians. This is just a story. Please don’t take it seriously.
ANY COMMENTS ON THE INDO-PAK WAR WILL BE FROWNED UPON AND I WILL ASK TU TO DELETE THEM.
It felt weird to hear the Indian accent wherever he went. He was around Indians again. People who spoke hindi, who shouted at the top of their voices to sell their wares, babies crying loudly and mothers cursing them as they refuse to be pacified.
Sanskaar Maheshwari, Son of the business tycoon Durgaprasad Maheshwari, smiled as he finally saw that he was home.
Well, Home was a bit of a stretch, to tell the truth. He was in Jammu and Kashmir near the Siachen Glacier, where daily riots take place. It was not his preferred destination, but when a friend requested him to come and observe the plight, Sanskaar had been happy to oblige.
Sanskaar turned to his friend, Saket and grinned.
Sanskaar : This is a whole new experience, isn’t it?
Saket (nodding) : Yes! Though I wouldn’t have come here myself if I weren’t so damned intrigued about the happenings here.
Sanskaar : Is it safe though?
Saket : Sure. The only people here are the soldiers, their families, and few other people who have the wealth to squander.
Sanskaar (raising an eyebrow) : I am not a soldier, nor do I know any. So that implies..
Saket (with a sheepish grin) : Well! We do have the money to spend, Don’t we?
Sanskaar : You sure do, being the son of multi-millionaire Suhas Khanna. As for me…
Saket (rolling his eyes) : Please! We all know that Sanskaar Maheshwari is the CEO of Maheshwari Industries, a billion dollar company. Ever since youre father died three years ago, You’ve increased the profits three-fold.
Sanskaar just chuckled as he looked around the various guests who had arrived to be part of the Army Week held annually in J and K.
Sanskaar (dryly) : The rich can enjoy themselves even in the grimmest atmosphere, Can they not?
Saket followed Sanskaar’s eyes observing the room where everyone was making merry. He shrugged.
Saket : We are not part of the army. To us, This is nothing more than a show that we can afford this and want to participate. (flashing a wicked smile) Not to mention the girls who are present here.
Sanskaar didn’t answer. He was searching for familiar faces. He had seen several since his recent arrival from Los Angeles, but he expected to see more here. The vast majority of both ladies and gentlemen looked exceedingly young to him, though. He felt strangely ancient at twenty eight.
Most of those young gentlemen, and a few older ones too, wore military dress uniforms—some khaki or brown, but most of them wore informal wear and resplendent with rich facings and multitudes of gold lace braiding. But the ladies looked delicate and very feminine in contrast.
Saket : The girls sure don’t seem to notice us, Do they? I guess if we wore military wear, they will, though. Otherwise we may be at a disadvantage here, Sanskaar!
Sanskaar (chuckling again) : if you came to impress the ladies here, then sure, We are at a disadvantage. But If one came to be an invisible observer, no.
At the moment he preferred to be as unobtrusive as possible. He still felt a little self-conscious around Indians, wondering how much they remembered from five years ago, and wondering too just how much there was for them to remember. Although there had been a few rather public scenes, he was not sure how much of that whole sordid business had become public knowledge. Saket, who had been one of Sanskaar’s acquaintances at the time and who had hailed him with the greatest amiability when they ran into each other two days ago, had made no reference to it.
Sanskaar was a well known figure throughout India, At the very least Kolkata, Mumbai and Delhi. His reputation had to be known by everyone. So, He wished to stay out of the limelight as far as possible.
Saket : I just hope no one tries to attack us this week. We don’t need that sort of tension, what with the parties and all. We do need to impress someone.
Sanskaar : Do we?
He sipped his wine and perused the room again. His glass had paused on one member of General Khan’s group, who was even then turning half away from its other members in order to greet the approach of two young officers of the 21st Platoon, gorgeous in their severe yet distinguished evening wear.
She was a very young lady indeed—not older than 20 or 21. He would not perhaps have noticed her if Saket had not set him to the task. But, having looked, he was forced to admit that sometimes one could draw pleasure from simply gazing at extraordinary beauty.
He was gazing at it now.
She was extraordinarily lovely. Her simple white salwar contrasted beautifully with her bronze skin.
His practiced eye noted that the body beneath it was slender and long-legged, yet undeniably feminine. Her neck, long and swanlike, held her head at a proud angle. And proud she had every right to be. Her dark hair was piled elegantly, and she wore a simple yet tasteful set of diamonds, that gleamed under the light of the chandeliers overhead.
Her face– round, dark-eyed, and straight-nosed—was classical perfection. Its beauty was nothing short of dazzling when she smiled, as she did in response to a remark made by the officer on her right, raising her hand to smoothen her hair as she did so.
It seemed to Sanskaar that he might well never have seen a lovelier woman—if she could be called a woman. She was breathtakingly lovely as a perfect rosebud that has not yet burst into full bloom.
Saket : That’s a lovely sight, Isn’t it? If only she would be interested in us. But do you see the lad next to her? I don’t think she has eyes for anyone but him. Perhaps if we were in the military too?
Sanskaar : Or perhaps if we were just 22 or 23.
Sanskaar agreed, noting the youth of the two officers. He must indeed be getting old, he thought, when even military officers were beginning to look like schoolboys playing at war.
The two men turned around and began walking elsewhere.
Saket: You do know who she is, Right?
Sanskaar (puzzled) : No, Should I? She is someone important, I presume?
Saket : Well, Right now, she’s staying with her young man’s family, The Singanias. Mr and Mrs Singhania have a daughter Reshmi who is her friend and ofcourse, Reshmi’s brother is that man there, Rohan. Swara’s brother is here too. I think he’s working at the embassy or something? I know he’s not part of the army.
Sanskaar : Swara? That’s her name?
Saket seemed to hesitate, then looking at his friend’s impatient gaze, sighed.
Saket : She is Swara Singh Oberoi.
Sanskaar paused and looked back at him, his eyebrows raised.
Sanskaar : Swara Singh Oberoi?
Saket (nodding) : Yes! She is the youngest in the family, I think. She has just started moving about in society, so I doubt she knows you. I don’t think SSO came here, but you still better not go near Swara. He might hear about it.
SSO. Shivaay Singh Oberoi, CEO and owner of Oberoi Group of Companies. Although he had not seen the man for five years and had not particularly thought about him in two, nevertheless Sanskaar could feel all the cold fury of an old hatred as he was reminded of him now. It was to Shivaay he owed the strangeness of these Indian faces and these voices, and his own self-consciousness in being among them—his own people. It was to Shivaay he owed the fact that he had not been in India—his own country, his father’s country—since he was twenty three.
It was because of Shivaay—whose friendship he had once cultivated—that his whole life had been turned upside down and permanently changed for the worse.
The fact that he couldn’t enter India was much worse than death. He had consoled himself eventually by becoming exactly what he was expected to be—a man who cared for nothing and no one except himself and the gratification of his own desires, whether s*xual or otherwise. He had certainly allowed Shivaay to win in more ways than one.
Ah, yes, he realized in that flashing moment while he still looked over his shoulder at Saket, the hatred, the burning desire to do Shivaay harm in return, had not faded in all these years. It had only been pushed beneath the surface of his consciousness.
And now he was in the same building—the same room—as Shivaay’s sister. It was almost too good to be true.
Sanskaar looked across the ballroom once more. She was holding the officer’s hand —Rohan Singhania’s —and was proceeding with him onto the dance floor, where the lines were forming for the dance.
Swara Singh Oberoi.
Yes, he could well believe it. She carried herself with all the proud bearing, even arrogance, of a born Oberoi, The family that wanted nothing.
He could make mischief if he chose, Sanskaar thought, his eyes narrowing on her. The temptation was almost overwhelming.
As she and the handsome Rohan Singhania took their places in dance, Sanskaar saw the striking couple. Indeed, she was thought to be all but betrothed to him.
The thought of causing mischief grew even more appealing.
She was doubtless an innocent, despite the arrogance. He, on the other hand, was anything but innocent. It was true that, despite his reputation, he had only ever turned his seductive charms on women who could match him in years. But if he chose to turn those charms on a innocent young woman, he might perhaps succeed in turning her attention away from the young military officer.
If he chose.
How could he not so choose?
Saket : Sanskaar! I’m going to get some refreshments. Will you join me?
Sanskaar (shaking his head) : I must ask someone to introduce me to Swara Singh Oberoi.
Saket (his eyes widening) : Sanskaar! Are you mad? Shivaay would kill you if you looked at his baby sister and you know it.
Sanskaar’s eyes hardened.
Sanskaar : He’s not here, is he? Also, I am Sanskaar Maheshwari. I am the CEO of Maheshwari Industries. Is it not natural for me to go speak to the sister of another billion dollar company’s owner? Besides, I’m not going to elope with her, Saket. I am just going to talk to her.
Though there was a wicked sense of satisfaction in imaging how Shivaay would react if he did run off with the girl. Did he dare contemplate such a thing? He could not take his eyes off the girl. She was Shivaay’s sister, someone close to him. Someone through whom Shivaay Singh Oberoi’s pride and consequence, even if not his heart, could be hurt. It was doubtful that the man had a heart—any more than he himself had, Sanskaar thought cynically.
It was strange how fate sometimes turned in one’s favour. Jammu and Kashmir was as close as Sanskaar had come to returning home even though his father had been dead for longer than 2 years and his mother had long been urging him to come home to Maheshwari Mansion in Kolkata to take up his inheritance and his duties and responsibilities as the head of the family. He had been in LA until he decided that his mother was right and it was time to come home.
But when he met Saket and learned of the Annual Army Week, He decided to come here. A number of society’s biggest Who’s who had also decided to show up not to mention the families of the soldiers who could afford to be here.
And that number included Swara Singh Oberoi, Pride of the family.
Fate had dealt him a potentially winning hand at last.
PRECAP : Swasan dance
I will post both this and SNFM simultaneously.. I will be ending SNFM soon which is why I began this. I started to post this because I’ve written quite a bit and I think I can keep up with the posts.
I’ve implemented quite a lot of stories to write this one and really really hope you guys like it <3 <3
I'm leaving for Singapore tomorrow for a week so will be back only by 7th. Until then, adieu… 🙂 🙂
LOVE YOU ALL!!!!