Rikara Scribblings by Savina

Nailing the Nail Art

Gauri leaned back against the headboard of the bed while running her hand gently over her prominent baby bump as she watched her husband rummaging through her side of the cupboard. "At least tell me this; what are you looking for?" she asked yet another time, only to hear his tongue click in impatience, while he muttered something to himself. A few more seconds later, she heard him say out loud with an excitement of a five-year old, "Finally! Found it!" Gauri was surprised to see him walk to the bed with a box full of paints; not any pastel or acrylic or watercolor or even fabric paint, but nail paints- a whole box of it! Did he want to paint her nails? He plonked himself next to her and held the box out to her, "Choose any one you like..." Okay, he really wants to paint her nails!

Gauri looked at him with an amused smirk, "What's up with you today?" He gave her that heart-stopping grin and shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing. Just looking to spend some quality time with my dear pregnant wife..." She chuckled and shook her head, "You're still guilty about snoring away while I was craving for pani-puri last week, right?" Omkara's expression did change to a sad one, but only for a second; yes he felt terribly guilty about not being able to bring some spicy-and-tangy golguppas for his expecting wife in the middle of the night. But, it wasn't like she blamed him for not bringing her any. He masked the guilt with a small smile and said, "Why don't you just choose a color right now?" She rolled her eyes and picked up a shade of beige, just to watch him scrunch his nose, "This one's too light!" he said. She picked a silver one with glitter in it, and he shook his head, "Too much of bling!" When she picked a lavender one, he closed his eyes; right, he hated lavender. She was about to point to an green one, that matched with a dupatta she was wearing at present and he looked appalled at that color. Shaking her head, she picked up a mauve one, and saw him frown, "This one? Really, Gauri?" She pushed the box away, irritated, "Don't ask me to choose and then criticize me for everything I pick! You only choose one!" He grinned excitedly and picked a bottle of bright red, "This one! Red suits you best!"

Amused, she held her hand out to him, but he moved it aside with a shake of his head in a no. "I want to paint your toes!" he said, pleasantly surprising her. He'd already made her comfortable by placing four more fluffy cushions on either side of her hips and waist, making sure she wasn't straining her back. Then, he shifted himself next to where she had rested her ankle on a pillow. "Om..." she said as if denying him from touching her foot, for the values she'd been taught and inculcated with in Bareilly did not let her ever be at ease whenever Om touched her feet even if it was to simply caress her. But she immediately fell silent when his hand gently lifted her foot from the pillow and placed it on his thigh. How he managed to send those jolts of electricity through her veins with a mere touch, even after three years of being married to him, she'd never understand.

Omkara opened the bottle of the enamel, dipped the brush in it and got rid of the excess, while Gauri watched his hands move effortlessly, with a practiced expertise. Gently making her sole rest flat on his thigh, Omkara made a gentle stroke on the big toe that almost covered the whole nail in one shot. Gauri watched in fascination as he moved on to paint the next toe, with the same concentration and focus she saw on the face of her artist-of-a-husband while painting on a canvas or sculpting an artwork. His fingers probably tickled her heel, and in reflex, she wiggled her toe, making him pout when the paint almost, just almost, touched the skin of her toe. "Stay still..." he said in a strict tone yet with a small smile, and resumed his work when she nodded. When done with the right foot, he placed it back on the pillow, shifted to the other side of the bed, placed her left foot on his thigh and began to paint.

"I've been thinking..." she said, causing him to nod without looking at her, and she continued, "I think we should go back to Oberoi Mansion..." She saw his hands still for a fraction of a second, before he continued, pretending like he did not hear her. "Omkara ji..." she called out and he heaved a sigh, "Look, Gauri, can we not talk about it?" She furrowed her brows in worry when she saw his crest-fallen face, "For how long are we not going to talk about it, Om?"

He did not look at her face; he knew with those puppy eyes she could get him to do just anything. "Gauri, I've said this once, and I'll say it for the last time. I do not wish to stay in a house whose walls are stained with the blood of the innocent. Kalyani Mills tragedy was no joke; and to think that my family killed so many innocent people, and ruined their future; to think that you too were one of the victims of my family's cruel and careless attitude!" He said while gently cupping her cheek. "But Om, we still do not know if our elders were truly involved in it..." "... Gauri, we saw the pictures; we saw the negatives of that camera roll! They were not tampered!" Gauri leaned back and took a deep breath, and running a hand on her belly, she said, "I don't know, Om. I don't think our elders can be that cruel... Maybe if we would..."

Omkara shook his head, but did not say a word. Instead, he resumed painting her toes in silence. "Om, it's just that I want our family members to be there when our babies come into this world... I would at least want our babies to know who their grandparents are... That they have a tadibaaz bade papa, a khidkitod badi maa... I want Rudy bhaiyya and Bhavya to play with them. I want them to live in the same place, under the same roof where their Papa has spent his entire childhood... Am i asking for too much, Om?" she pleaded.

Omkara wanted to refuse. Gauri may have forgiven them when the Senior Oberois had asked her for forgiveness, but Omkara hadn't; not because Gauri's father had been killed in the tragedy, but because his family had stayed mum all these years, while hiding the truth. However, looking at her sullen face, especially in her current condition, he did not have the heart to deny her. Instead he placed his hand over hers which was on her belly, and smiled, "That day will come, jaan. I promise. I don't know when, but I will take you and our babies back to the Oberoi Mansion. Our babies will know about their extended family; their uncles, aunts, grandparents. But for now, can we please not talk about it?" Gauri smiled, and nodded as he turned his attention back to painting her toe nails. At least, he agreed that there was a possibility of that day to come! She watched as he narrowed his eyes while painting her middle toe. Oh how she loved watching him doing some task with all that intensity in his eyes! And just like that, she knew he was transported into his world of art, where her toe nails were his canvas.

"And done!" Omkara announced with a satisfied smile when he finished painting her little toe. She craned her neck to see, but her baby bump hid the fine work her husband had finished on her toes. "I can't see my toes!" she whined with a pout. Omkara chuckled, pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her feet. "Mmm, not bad, Mr. Artist Oberoi!" She said as she zoomed into the image to watch her bright red nails perfectly done. "Not bad? Omkara said, slightly shocked and pretending to be offended, "Not bad is not the word. It is perfect! It's not every day that a millionaire artist paints his wife's toes!" Gauri chuckled when she saw him pat his own back, and said, "I will have to agree, Mr. Perfectionist! It's gorgeous and it's perfect."

Just then she saw him take his seat next to her foot, and look at her in worry. She frowned and raised a brow, asking him what the matter was. "I forgot to sign my artwork!" he exclaimed. Her frown deepened, "What?" she asked, and before she could say anything further, she saw him bend his head and place a kiss on her foot. "And, signed!" he said with a goofy grin, feeling so proud about his silly filmy behaviour that he'd picked up from one of those cheesy Bollywood movies he sometimes watched with her.

Just then, he felt her toes rubbing against his inner thigh, and when he looked up at her, she had that familiar mischief on her face, "I should really thank the artist for his perfection, shouldn't I?" She heard him hiss when she brushed her foot really close to the bulge in his pants. Holding her foot in place, and in a thick voice that told her how affected he was already, he said, "The paint on your toes are still not dry!" She smirked as she leaned ahead and placed her palm on his thigh while gently feeling him up, "My finger nails aren't painted yet, so we're still good to proceed with thanking my very own chivalrous artist!" Omkara felt his breath hitch when she slipped her hand under his kurta and caressed the skin of his abdomen while making its way down south. True to her word, she did thank him really well.

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