Every flowering tree has a mechanism for seed dispersal, why? Because the nature knows, that underneath the canopy of a giant tree another cannot be planted, it will either not survive or turn out to be some twisted version of its natural self. Then why are younger brothers hoped to grow under the shade of older ones?
It was the thought Lakshya Maheshwari grew up with, under the canopy of his smarter, more brilliant cousin brother Sanskar Maheshwari. Although many did not spot, their wants were same, goals alike and ideologies were somewhat similar the difference was the path they chose to achieve them.
Sanskar was from a young age his father’s disciple; he planed and won what he desired. He did not have a wish list, but something more like a, to do list. He gained what he desired, by working hard for it, sometimes by hook while in other times by crook. No one blamed him for his exceptional mind games, the scheming behind his easy thrown smiles or hard pushed punches. They valued him, almost always deemed him worthier than Lakshya.
He on the other hand was the opposite side of the spectrum. What he wished, he wished with a true heart. There was no need to put his effort in to winning it, for he almost always got what he wanted. He was the prince of his father’s castle; there was no need for him to step in to the battle. The victory was served to him, in a silver platter, always by his loved ones. There was no need to employ mind games, no need to scheme and he never learned them. After observing the way they brought him up, can you really blame him for not matching his brother’s stakes? In fact in that aspect was not he purer? After all he had no ulterior motives behind his acts.
It was true that everyone loved him, but perhaps not as much as they loved Sanskar. They loved him out of duty while they loved Sanskar for his charisma. He was not jealous of his brother. No, not at all… But why would he always be the second choice in every race of life?
Lakshya had known from his childhood that Sanskar would one day sit on his father’s throne. Sanskar would one day hold Swara’s hand. He would be the head of their extended family, the king, the decision maker. Sanskar would be the next Durga Prasad as he remained in the sidelines as a second Ram Prasad of their family. After all it was all planed out for them.
Then suddenly Sanskar was the one who changed the layout of their family chessboard.
He threw away the crown offered to him. He broke his ties with Swara. He left their family. All that was left in the forsaken battle field was him; the one no one gave a grain about. The second best but the remaining loyal son, Lakshya...
When Ram leaves for exile there are two choices for his brother. Either be Lakshman and follow him to the danger or be Barata and shoulder the responsibilities he was leaving behind.
Trying to claim an abandoned kingdom was not a crime right?
In the next few years that was what he had tried to do. Fill himself to the vacuum his brother had left. Even though everyone knew he was never returning they did not stop waiting for him, and he, who tried to be practical, was ridiculed, why? He had to give up his easy going life, work until he was exhausted out of his senses; still he was not a match for someone who did not exist, why?
It took his family a long time to see this, a long time to accept that the equation has changed. When they finally did, the time had frayed his resolve. He was not as confident of his capability as he was when he declared this war. Every slight flicker of flame made a monster in the shadows. Every little faulty action unnerved him.
And now suddenly, when he was a step away from claiming his throne the banished prince returned the fortress. What was he supposed to do? Rejoice his brother’s return or mourn for his efforts in vain?
Can anyone really blame him for the insecurity that distanced him from his once beloved brother?
Then there was Swara, his first and only love. Even in her eyes he was the second choice. God, how he hated that! She had said that he was her best friend when Sanskar was no longer in the picture, but whenever he did something for her, any of his affectionate gestures was always compared to some extraordinary deed of Sanskar’s from the past. Would that be the portrait of their relationship forever? An empty house haunted by a ghost of her past best friend? Why could not she just accept that he was worthy for her? Well of cause she would not, even his own father had doubts on the matter.
Her recent odd behavior startled him further. Was she pulling some trap around him? Or simply scheming a way to leave him…? Why was she so indifferent towards him? Those qualms only made him cling to her more desperately worry, if she was not in front of him for a tiny moment, worry, if someone else managed to beat him in to helping her, worry when she left him at the engagement and rushed to his brother.
Ragini of cause was there. She had been the only constant thing in his life. She had worried along with him when Swara was missing that night, and many more incidents where he felt insecure she had landed him her support. But he was weary of accepting it. For he knew that would be giving her hope. He had done so unknowingly in the past. But he was sure Ragini understood that although they were damned to be together a desert never loved the sun; it is always the rain it yearns for. She had settled for just his friendship a long ago…
Their echoing laughter brought him back to his sunlit surrounding.
Swara had found a new way of avoiding him; spending time with his mentally unstable, childlike brother. They were in the corner of a play ground, laughing joyously as Sanskar pushed the swing and Swara swung on it. Just a moment before he had given in to his thoughts, the scenario had been vice versa.
Lakshya watched his brother’s juvenile smile and Swara’s rather brilliant one as Sanskar sang some long forgotten nursery rhyme. For some oddly unsatisfying reason their happiness burned him. His phone started to ring rather shrilly.
He had to attend the call and he did, it took him only five minutes to end that conversation. But when he turned around both his brother and his fiancé were missing.
*
Last night Swara was telling him a story about a demon that fall in love with an angle. He said it cannot happen, a fiery demon would never find a fragile angle interesting. They are supposed to fight, that’s the nature right?
Wrong. Sanskar said to himself.
An angle is the only thing a demon could love, after all who else would bother to teach it what love is? Others would simply shun it to the deepest corner of the scorching hell just by looking at its blistered face right?
Wrong. The demon would not want to learn to love, that’s not its purpose of life.
It would simply turn the offending angle to ashes for trying to be an obstacle in his destiny. Or it would use the angle’s powers to meet its ends and finally find peace when its work is done and the angle is no more, right?
Wrong. The memory of that fallen angle would haunt him to the end of his days.
He sighed, what to do. It was a fate he had willingly accepted.
They were travelling by some uneven short-cut and the car bumped over something as it took a corner. Jerked with the sudden push, her head rested on his shoulder. Her eyes were peacefully closed, her weight felt soft and warm. Unintentionally he put an arm around her to hold her steadily and tapped the driver’s shoulder.
‘There is no rush, drive slowly,’ unable to help himself he informed him. There was no need to tire her on the way. After all he now knew how slow Lakshya was. It would take him years to spot the gold.
‘Why Shona?’ he muttered to her, tucking an escaped lock of hair behind her ear. ‘What did you see in him? It’s the idea of being the idol son of Durga Prasad he’s in love with.’
She muttered something in her sleep and he wondered what had possessed him to ask such a question. Was not he the one who wants them to fell for each other so his plan could be accomplished? After all he knew why she said yes, it was the old man Durga Prasad pulling the strings behind them. How long had he waited to collect Shona, his long casted queen?
Sanskar smirked to himself and then he caught the amethyst glow that hung from her neck.
‘So he did collect you,’ he muttered to himself as a stream of memories rushed to his mind.
*
‘You lied to me Sanskar,’ his uncle’s low voice echoed the study which was unusually darker. ‘You said you have nothing to do with that girl, but you still meet her don’t you?’
‘She’s a very good person,’ although he knew this was going nowhere he wanted to Sanskar tried once more. Durga Prasad watched him, casually.
‘She may be.’ he accepted gradually. ‘But she’s not the person for you.’
‘Sorry Bade Papa, but it should be my call.’ The old man stood up, his eyes narrowing. Even in the darkness he held an aura that required submission and Sanskar held his gaze refusing to give any.
‘I know you can take your own decisions, after all in the future you’ll have to take so many decisions for the Maheshwari Empire’ He said in his usual commanding tone as he circled him. ‘Sanskar Maheshwari that name holds value, without the Maheshwari part it’s nothing. There are certain sacrifices you have to make in order to keep that name attached.’
‘I’m not going to sacrifice myself for my name.’
‘You were born to rule this empire. You must choose a queen to be by your side, not just some girl you fancy. Would she ever be what the empire wants?’
‘Would you ever give her a chance?’ Sanskar shot back as he reached beneath his collar and took off the chain from which that amethyst hung. ‘No, Bade Papa, you always plan ahead. You know what, I’m not interested in following this puppet show script of yours.’ Durga Prasad said nothing for a moment. ‘I don’t want this soul of secrets anymore,’ he continued throwing the pen drive into the table that lay abandoned in the study. ‘You haven’t even told me its password. I don’t want any part of this circus.’
Shaking his shoulders he launched for the door and Durga Prasad called after him.
‘Swara Sanskar Maheshwari.’  Sanskar stopped in his tracks, frozen and empty gazed. ‘Get used to that name, she is your destiny.’
Sanskar shook his head. ‘You have broken my expectations from you in the worst possible way Bade Papa,’ he said then. ‘I’m not letting you use me as bait in your games. Sanskar Maheshwari is done. I don’t need your expensive name anymore and certainly not the queen you want to attach me. If ever we meet again I’ll prove it to you that neither Maheshwari is a name that I can’t survive without nor is your queen all that perfect.’
‘You may do the first,’ Durga Prasad said slyly. ‘But never in this life will you accomplish the second. You can’t prove I was wrong to trust Swara, it’s impossible.’
‘Then perhaps I’ll see to it that your queen falls before your fortress Mr. Durga Prasad Maheshwari. We’ll resume this discussion that day.’
*
When she woke up her head was heavy. Slightly blurred vision greeted her open eyes. White ceiling, a luxurious hotel room, she was dozing off in a plush sofa. When did she come here?
Narrowing her eyes at the lack of memory Swara stood up. The last sane thing she remembered was being in the playground with Sanskar. What was happening with her?
Shaking her head and massaging her forehead she touched the door handle, in order to open it. But before she had managed to turn the knob, the door pushed open. Outside the threshold Lakshya stood, apparently seething in anger.
*
In Sanskar’s chessboard the white queen was cornered by the black knight.
‘Did you think he’d protect you Shona?’ he muttered to himself. ‘See your knight is the first to lay his sword on you.’
He let his chin rest on his fingertips as his eyes scrutinized the layout. Then swiftly he dragged a pawn on the queen’s right, laying a trap for the knight.
‘Don’t worry. He’ll pay for his audacity soon.’
He looked up from the chessboard puzzled as the door of his bed room banged open. Durga Prasad entered who looked a very different version of his normal self. Usually he is a soft spoken man who never banged in to rooms. With an equal shuttering noise he shut the door behind him. Sanskar gave him a goofy smile.
‘Sanskar!’ He roared. ‘Where is she?’
‘Tsk, tsk Durga Prasad. Do you really think I am a five year old, so that you would yell and I’d sulk? That time is long gone.’ Sanskar thought to himself.
*