Sahab = Sir

-*-*-

"Rudraksh..." Anusuiya's voice trembled as she pulled him into a tight embrace. The familiar scent of him, the coarse fabric of his worn shirt beneath her fingers, the way his arms hesitated before circling her-everything filled her chest with a rush of relief and aching love.

For a fleeting moment, a stiff smile touched Rudraksh's lips. The storm of the past weeks seemed to ease, as though he were a river briefly touching its source again. Yet the calm never stayed; it slipped away as quickly as it came, leaving only a restless current within him.

Her trembling hands clutched his arms as she scanned his bearded face. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her voice cracking under the weight of a plea.

"Where have you been, beta? Do you know how worried we were?" Her thumb traced slow, anxious patterns over his skin, as if anchoring herself to his presence.

Rudraksh remained tight-lipped, just looking at his mother's animated expression as she continued further.

"Did you forget me, Rudraksh? Did someone else mean more to you than your own mother?" Her question lingered, raw and fragile, her gaze desperate for reassurance.

Siddharth and Karan exchanged a glance, their lips curving into awkward smiles at the outpouring of emotion. Yet Rudraksh didn't look away from his mother. He searched her eyes as though trying to read a language only she knew.

Sighing softly, he pulled her into another hug. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Please... forgive me."

The words were soft, but hollow. Anusuiya felt the emptiness tucked beneath them, yet she clung to the warmth of his embrace all the same. Her hands fluttered over his face as if brushing away shadows, before pressing them briefly to her own temples - a gesture of relief, of silent gratitude.

After a moment of one-sided affection, she turned aside with a tender smile and ushered the boys inside. "Come, have breakfast."

Siddharth and Karan obeyed, exchanging another nervous glance as they sat at the table. Their hearts still raced, waiting for the storm they knew hadn't passed.

Rudraksh, however, drifted toward the staircase, his silence heavy.

He had barely lifted his foot to the first step when a servant appeared, bowing low. "Rudraksh baba, Judge sahab has summoned you to his study."

Rudraksh's chest tightened. He drew in a long breath, masking the tremor in his pulse. "I'm coming," he said, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.

The servant bowed again and withdrew.

Rudraksh turned toward the corridor, each step echoing louder than the last. The path stretched endlessly before him, lined with memories of old confrontations, of promises broken and trust fractured.

His heartbeat quickened, hammering in his chest like a drum summoning him to judgment. The carved wooden door of his father's study loomed ahead - an unyielding threshold between him and the reckoning he could no longer outrun.

Rudraksh's mouth turned dry, his palms slick with sweat. He rubbed his fingers together, a nervous tic he couldn't shake, and knocked gently. The hollow thud seemed louder in the silence of the corridor.

"Come in." The voice from inside was clipped, steady.

His throat worked in a hard gulp as he pressed the handle, leaving damp smears of sweat on the brass. The door creaked open, and he stepped into the dim room where the smell of old paper and polished leather hung heavy.

Aanand Maurya sat behind the desk, head bowed over an open file. He looked up, gaze sharp enough to cut steel, and with a small tilt of his chin, he said, "Sit."

The chair felt foreign beneath Rudraksh, its leather sighing as he sank into it. The tick of the clock on the wall grew impossibly loud. His chest rose and fell faster than he could control.

Aanand's hand came down on the file with a flat slap. "Take a look at your progress."

Rudraksh reached out, fingers trembling against the papers. The numbers and graphs swam before his eyes. Sweat gathered at his eyebrows, trickling down his temple.

"Rudraksh Maurya, Chief Executive Officer." Aanand's voice mocked the words, twisting them into something bitter. "You wanted to make your name in this world, remember? Start a gaming company, compete with the best..." He leaned back, one corner of his lips curling up. "Like this?"

The sudden crack of his palm striking the desk ricocheted off the walls.

Rudraksh flinched.

"On the verge of bankruptcy! Your reputation in tatters! Mine dragged down with it!"

Rudraksh lowered his eyes, the reports blurring until they were nothing but grey smudges. His voice came out barely audible. "I... I can explain, sir." The title slipped from habit, from years of drilled reflex, and from something heavier in his mind and heart.

Aanand pushed his chair back, the scrape of its legs grating against the floor. He strode forward, stopping just short of his son. His fists crashed onto the armrests, pinning Rudraksh between leather and fury.

"What will you explain?" His breath came hot and ragged. "That you drowned yourself in self-pity over a heartbreak l8ke some teenagers? That you sulked like a child while the company rotted under your nose? Boo-hoo, my girlfriend left me. So I'll ruin everything?"

The words rained down like mocking blows, and Rudraksh's nails bit into his palms. He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to look up, unwilling to meet the glare burning above him.

Aanand straightened and massaged his temples. "How many times must I remind you-you need to take responsibility. You're not a child anymore!" He paused, collecting his ragged breathing, then continued, "With this attitude, you expect to make a name for yourself? You can't even take care of yourself, let alone a company."

Rudraksh held his father's gaze, his chest tightening with a familiar ache. The silence between them pressed heavy, each second stretching. He felt as though he were staring into a mirror, searching for a reflection that might finally recognize him.

What does it take to be seen?

The thought whispered in his mind, and for a moment he felt like nothing more than a canvas of contradictions - threads of love, rejection, and longing stitched together with no pattern. All he wanted was a glance that acknowledged the design of who he was.

"Speak, dammit!" Aanand's command made him flinched once again. "Explain yourself! Explain how you will fix this mess!"

Rudraksh rose to his feet, his eyes fixed on his father's. A flicker of resolve steadied his trembling hands. He drew in a deep breath, trying to sound confident - convincing his father, and maybe... himself too.

"I will fix this, sir. I'll work harder than ever. I promise." His words carried a firmness, though the plea beneath them trembled like a fragile thread. "I won't fail again. Please, give me another chance."

Aanand's expression remained sharp. "See that you do. I expect nothing but the best from you. You have one chance to prove yourself. Don't waste it." His voice was still firm, but softer than before.

Rudraksh nodded, a fragile determination rising through the weight of shame. The road ahead was steep, but he was ready to climb it, ready to reclaim his place, and his father's belief.

"But..." Aanand's voice carried a quiet weight as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his jaw tight, lips pressed into a thin line. "Since you have made the mistake, you must face the consequences."

Rudraksh's eyebrows furrowed, his heartbeat quickened. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, every nerve bracing for the words that would follow.

"You are demoted to junior manager," Aanand declared in a detached tone. "Effective immediately."

Rudraksh blinked, stunned, his eyes darting around the room as if to make sure what he heard was not a mistake. "That's my company." His voice cracked a bit as he forced it out. "You have no right to demote me!"

Aanand's expression remained stoic, as he watched his son losing his temper. "This is not a debate. The decision has been made. You've had chance after chance, but you squandered them. And now the board has lost its faith in your ability to lead the company."

Rudraksh's face flushed a deep red; his fists clenched at his sides. "You can't do this. This is senseless! You can't strip me of my place. it's my company-"

"-funded with my money," Aanand interjected, the words striked on Rudraksh like a whip. "Don't forget who holds the Power of Attorney. You will accept this role, or you will leave the company altogether."

The humiliation landed heavy, and Rudraksh's fists curled tighter. He felt the sting of tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. "I've always tried to make you proud," he whispered, "From school to engineering to my MBA-I topped everywhere! I honored your family! I've never brought you shame!"

His throat tightened, but he pushed through, his voice cracking. "I've obeyed you, always... whether you were there or not."

Aanand's eyes flickered for a fraction of second, but soon they hardened again.

Rudraksh's gaze dropped to the floor, and his shoulders slumped. "What do you want from me?"

Aanand lifted his chin, his voice a low and emotionless. "I want you to accept your new role and start working to regain the board's trust. That's what I want from you." He paused, eyes boring silent drills in Rudraksh's bowed head. "Discipline and commitment. A company cannot survive on neglect and recklessness."

Rudraksh's chest heaved as he looked up, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and hurt. "You've never been proud of me, have you?" His voice cracked. "No matter what I do, it's never enough."

Aanand's hands remained clasped behind his back, his posture unwavering. "Your choices have put everything at risk. This demotion is not just punishment, it is a chance to correct your path."

Rudraksh scoffed, biting his inner cheek. "I have earned that place with my hard work and dedication." He emphasized each word, throwing sharp glares at his father.

Aanand's eyes locked onto Rudraksh's. "You've built recklessness," he countered, his voice firm but controlled. "The company is still struggling to stand on its own. And you're not ready to lead."

Rudraksh's breath came in short gasps, his anger simmering like a pot about to boil over. "And you?" His eyebrows knitted. "What do you know about leadership? You're just a figurehead, a name on the board. You don't understand a single word about business."

Aanand's jaw clenched, but his voice stayed calm. "I may not be a businessman," he said, "but I know when someone is drowning. And right now, Rudraksh-that someone is you."

Rudraksh's lips curled into a bitter smile. "You just want to control."

"Respect your elders, boy" Aanand said, his voice low and even. "Learn to master your temper."

In a flash, Rudraksh's hand swept across the table, sending the delicate flower vase crashing to the floor. The ceramic shattered into pieces like his broken dreams, the sound echoing through the room. The shards glinted in the dim light, reflecting the duo's contrasting expressions.

"To hell with your respect," Rudraksh spat and stormed out, carrying the weight of betrayal and humiliation. The door slammed behind him, the sound reverberating down the empty corridor.

Aanand stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the broken vase. His hands remained locked behind his back, his posture still authoritative, but his face etched with disappointment and worry.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

At the breakfast table, Anusuiya waited for the men to join them. Siddharth and Karan sat with her, their nervous smiles adding a touch of humor to the steady atmosphere.

Her gaze fell on Rudraksh storming out of study.

"Rudraksh! Beta, come here," she called after him. "Eat your breakfast." Her eyes followed him, heavy with a mother's worry.

Taking the stairs three at a time, he vanished from sight. A moment later, the sharp slam of his door reverberated through the hallway, rattling the quiet.

Siddharth and Karan exchanged a glance, unease flickering between them. Their eyes lingered on the staircase, torn between rushing after him or giving him the space he seemed to crave really bad.

Both turned to Anusuiya, silently seeking her lead. Her face mirrored their concern, though she remained still.

"Aunty... we should go," Siddharth said.

Karan gave a small nod, adding, "We'll catch up over breakfast another day." His gaze held hers, waiting for her agreement.

Anusuiya's eyes lingered on the empty staircase before she shifted her gaze back on the friends, nodding slowly with a motherly smile. "Okay, beta. Take care."

The boys rose together, their movements quiet, and with a shared understanding, they made their way out, leaving behind the echo of Rudraksh's storm.

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Rudraksh's gaze lingered on the pictures hanging along the wall, and his eyes burned. His jaw tightened, teeth grinding together as though the mere pictures were enough to erupt the simmering lava within.

FLASHBACKS

A boy burst into the basketball court, jumping and twirling while humming a tune.

A girl around his age stood frozen, staring at the goal net with the ball clutched in her hands. Her jacket was tied around her waist and her armpit-length hair sticked on her back, drenched in sweat.

As he approached her, a bright smile spread across his face. With silent steps he crept up behind her then swept her into a sudden twirl, cradling her waist. The girl's eyes widened, and she got startled by the sudden gesture.

Gently, setting her down, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, and put his neck on her right shoulder. Smiling widely, he gently shook her from left to right under his hold. "Did you miss me!?" His voice echoed off the basketball court, reciprocating the excitement of getting to see his girlfriend after a long time.

But her body stiffened, and the name came out her lips nervously. "Rudraksh... "

Rudraksh's eyes narrowed at her hesitant tone, calling him by his real name. He turned her around and smiled before speaking in a soft tone, "Any problem, Sanam?"

Sanam's chest rose and fell rapidly and her eyes casted downward, avoiding his gaze. Her hands fell limply by her sides.

Rudraksh gently stroked some hair behind her ear, and lifted her head by holding her face in his palms. He gently caressed her jaw with his thumb. "Hey, Sanam. Tell me, what is it?" His voice was sweet like honey.

Sanam's gaze again dropped to the ground, and her throat bobbled up. "Let's break up." Her words came out dry and detached.

Rudraksh's laughter echoed, a gentle slap on her shoulder accompanying his playful dismissal. "Shut up, I'm not in the mood for jokes."

Sanam's eyes locked onto his-firm and resolute. "Let's break up, Rudraksh."

Rudraksh froze, his expression shifting from amusement to shock. His grip on her arms tightened. "Do you realize what you're saying, Sanam?" His voice was low and menacing.

The atmosphere shifted, tension replacing the earlier playfulness.

Sanam swiftly untied the jacket around her waist and wore it. Her movements were economical and detached. "I know." Her voice was barren of emotions.

Rudraksh stepped forward, blocking her path. His eyes narrowed and jaw clenched as he said with gritted teeth. "Don't toy with me, Sanam."

Sanam met his gaze with an unyielding poker face, then pushed past him, stroming out of the court.

"Sanam!" Rudraksh's desperate voice echoed through the empty court, bouncing off the wall.

He stood frozen, his chest heaving, as the reality of her words sunk in.

FLASHBACK ENDS

"Ahhh...! Why!? Why!?"

Rudraksh's scream tore through the silence, raw and unrestrained, like something ripped from the deepest part of him.

His hand shot out, seizing a vase. With a savage thrust he hurled it at the wall. Glass shattered, scattering fragments across the floor - shards of memory breaking with it.

"I hate you!" His voice cracked, fury consuming every syllable. He slammed his palms against the mirror. The surface splintered, spiderwebbing under his hands before collapsing, raining sharp edges that drew blood from his skin. He didn't flinch.

Another vase. Another crash. Splintered wood, shattered glass, echoes of destruction filled the room.

He clawed at the frames, ripping them from the walls, tearing photos until they were nothing but crushed paper in his fists. His boots ground the wreckage into dust, each stomp heavier, harsher, his breath ragged and uneven.

One more frame caught his eye. He snatched it, fingers digging into the wood until it cracked, the glass biting into his palm. Blood smeared across the broken photograph. Still, he pressed harder, fists driving into the wall until his knuckles split open, crimson blooming across the white plaster.

"You destroyed me, Sanam!" His roar shook with more than anger; it trembled with grief. "You ripped apart my heart, my trust... my life! And now even my career. Everything I built is in ruins because of you!"

His chest heaved. His eyes burned, but the tears refused to fall. He kicked the wreckage, shards scattering farther across the floor like splinters of his own soul.

"You're poison, Sanam," he rasped, voice breaking into a whisper. "A disease that infected every part of me. I thought I was enough... I thought-" His words faltered. "I was just a pawn in your dirty game."

He sagged against the wall, blood dripping from his knuckles. His whisper cracked into silence. "I'll never forgive you. Never."

A/N: I don't know-how many times I edit, my writing remains messy. Any suggestion on this?

1. Who do you think is right, Aanand or Rudraksh?

2. What are your impressions of Sanam so far?