It was the morning of Omkara's much-anticipated art exhibition, and the Oberoi Mansion was a hive of activity. Om was in his zen mode, triple-checking everything, while Rudra was busy stuffing his face with toast and humming the latest Bollywood song. Shivaay, as always, was multitasking between business calls and trying to keep Rudra from smearing butter on the furniture.
And then it happened.
Shivaay, balancing his coffee mug and a plate of pasta, turned too quickly and collided with the edge of Om's prized painting. The plate flew out of his hand in slow motion, its contents splattering across the canvas like a Jackson Pollock painting gone terribly wrong.
"NO!" Shivaay bellowed, his voice echoing through the house.
Rudra rushed in, crumbs on his shirt. "What happened, bhaiya? Did the WiFi go down?"
Shivaay pointed at the painting, his face pale. "I've ruined it. This was Om's centrepiece!"
Rudra stared at the canvas, which now looked like a toddler's lunch tray had exploded on it. "Whoa. Modern art?"
"Rudra!" Shivaay snapped. "This isn't funny! What do we do? Om will kill me!"
"No problem," Rudra said confidently. "I've got a plan."
"Oh, great," Shivaay muttered. "The last time you had a plan, we ended up locked in the wine cellar for three hours."
"Trust me!" Rudra said, dragging Shivaay toward the art supplies.
Rudra grabbed a blank canvas and stated, "Okay. We both will do one thing each. You do whatever you want and then I will do what I want. Works?"
Shivaay nodded. He was horrified and blank. But with a thudding heart, he picked up the water colour set from the table and started to paint.
After a few moments, Rudra returned with a banana in hand. He examined the canvas and guffawed. "Really Bhaiya? A cat? That too a black cat?"
Shivaay shrugged. "I can't think of anything else."
Rudra looked at the cat and laughed. But then he peeled the banana and ate it.
Shivaay, horrified, watched as Rudra ate the banana and slapped the peel onto the canvas with an air of triumph.
"Ta-da!" Rudra said. "Art!"
"That's a banana peel, Rudra!" Shivaay yelled. "And a very bad drawing of a cat!"
"Exactly," Rudra replied smugly. "This is my part. It's minimalist. Trust me, art people love this kind of weird stuff. They'll think it's symbolic."
"Symbolic of what?"
"I don't know—capitalism? Climate change? The oppression of fruit vendors? Who cares? We just need something to hang at the gallery!"
Shivaay groaned but reluctantly agreed. They had used their two remaining brain cells and come up with something creative. They couldn't do anything else. "Fine. But if this backfires, you're taking the blame."
Hours later, the banana-and-cat "masterpiece" was delivered to the gallery and hung in the place of Om's original painting. Shivaay and Rudra tried to avoid Om all morning, but as the exhibition opened, their nerves were fraying.
"Do you think anyone will notice?" Shivaay whispered to Rudra as they watched people gather around the painting.
"Notice? They're loving it!" Rudra whispered back, pointing to a crowd of people snapping photos of the banana peel.
One man in a suit gestured wildly. "This is brilliant! The decay of the banana peel represents the fleeting nature of life, while the cat's presence suggests our yearning for companionship in an unstable world!"
"Exactly!" another woman chimed in. "It's a commentary on consumerism and how we discard what's no longer useful."
Shivaay blinked. "Are... are they serious?"
"See, bhaiya?" Rudra said smugly. "I told you. People will buy anything if you call it art."
Meanwhile, Om was in his own corner, discussing art with a critic. He finally wandered over to his "masterpiece," expecting to see his signature abstract work. Instead, his eyes fell on the banana peel and the wonky black cat.
He froze. "What... what is this?"
Rudra jumped in. "Oh, that! Bhaiya said it was a last-minute inspiration! He insisted it had to be included!"
Om turned to Shivaay, confused. "You made this?"
Shivaay, caught off guard, stammered, "Uh... yes. It's called... um... Peeled Layers of Existence."
Om looked skeptical, but before he could respond, the gallery director approached, beaming. "Mr. Omkara Oberoi, congratulations! This piece has caused a sensation. We've already sold it for five crores!"
Om's jaw dropped. "Five crores?!"
"Yes," the director said. "A tech billionaire bought it. He said it speaks to his soul."
By the end of the night, "Peeled Layers of Existence" had gone viral. Memes flooded social media:
A banana peel captioned: "When life gives you lemons, make banana art."
The cat doodle with the words: "Meow-dern Art."
Om's fame skyrocketed, but he couldn't shake his confusion. "I don't get it. Why does this silly painting work?"
Anika, who had been silently enjoying the chaos, finally chimed in. "Because, Om, sometimes art is just about making people feel something. Even if that 'something' is confusion."
Shivaay patted Om on the back. "Congratulations, Om. You're officially an accidental genius."
As Om walked away, still baffled, Rudra leaned over to Shivaay. "So, bhaiya, ready to collaborate on our next piece? I'm thinking mango peel and a stick figure."
Shivaay groaned. "Never again, Rudra. Never again."
