"Aarav Industries"

In the grand boardroom of Aarav Industries, a man in his early 30s stood before the board of directors, commanding the room with his confident presence. Anirudh, the Managing Director, delivered a compelling presentation, discussing a new proposal that had everyone captivated. His tone was firm yet persuasive, and the clarity with which he presented the intricate details of the project made it clear that he had put significant effort into the preparation.

As he concluded his final points, the room remained silent for a beat before erupting into nods of approval and murmurs of agreement. The client, Mr. Rawal, leaned forward, impressed. "Well done, young man. The deal is on," he said, his voice warm with satisfaction.

Anirudh smiled, a brief flash of pride crossing his features. "Thank you, Mr. Rawal," he responded, his voice calm but carrying the weight of accomplishment.

The contract was placed before them, ready for signatures. Mr. Rawal signed the document and then extended the pen to Anirudh, expecting him to do the same. Anirudh reached out, but just as his fingers grazed the pen, reality hit him-he didn't have the authority to finalize the deal. His role, though crucial, lacked the ultimate decision-making power.

"I'll get it signed and send the copy to you," Anirudh said, maintaining his professionalism as he shook hands with Mr. Rawal.

Mr. Rawal, puzzled, raised an eyebrow. "You're the CEO, right?" he asked, his tone curious.

Before Anirudh could respond, one of the board members cut in, "He's the Managing Director."

Anirudh gave a polite nod, gathered his belongings, and walked out of the conference room. But as he exited, he overheard a snide remark from one of the board members, their voice dripping with disdain. "Attitude toh aise dikhate hain jaise sab inka hi hai..."

A sharp pain flashed across Anirudh's face. No matter how hard he worked, no matter the sacrifices, respect remained elusive. He was talented, dedicated, and had led countless successful projects, yet for some, his status would always be secondary. The weight of his position felt like a double-edged sword.

Trying to shake off the bitterness, Anirudh made his way to his private chamber. He sat down at his desk, eyes narrowing in focus as he tried to immerse himself back into work. The familiar routine offered some comfort-until a figure entered the room.

"Anirudh, yeh new project ke kuch clauses se main agree nahi karta hun," said the man who entered, his voice heavy with age and authority.

Anirudh didn't even have to look up to recognize the voice of Mr. Oberoi, the founder of Aarav Industries-his father.

"Mr. Oberoi," Anirudh replied, keeping his tone formal and cold, "Yeh clauses bahut important hain success ke liye."

The elderly man sighed, as if disappointed by Anirudh's defiance. "Ani..." he began, softening.

Anirudh's expression turned hard as he cut him off sharply. "Anirudh!" he snapped. "Ani sirf mujhe Aarav bula sakta hai."

The room grew tense as Anirudh's anger filled the space. His father, unshaken, stared at him. "I'm your father," he reminded him, his tone low but firm.

A bitter smile tugged at Anirudh's lips. "Badkismati hai meri aap mere baap hai," he spat, his voice filled with years of pent-up resentment. "Najayas aulad hun aapki main... Jiski aapko zaroorat hai iss business ko sambhalne ki. Toh don't interfere with my decisions!"

Mr. Oberoi's expression didn't waver, but a smirk appeared at the corners of his mouth. "Sirf sambhal sakte ho," he said slowly, each word laced with superiority, "final mera beta hi karega... Aarav, samjhe?"

The mention of Aarav sent a ripple of pain through Anirudh. His hands clenched into fists as his father's words echoed in the room. No matter how hard Anirudh worked, no matter how many sleepless nights he spent ensuring the company's success, in Mr. Oberoi's eyes, Aarav was always the favored son-the rightful heir.

Anirudh closed his eyes for a moment, trying to hold back the storm brewing inside him. But his anger got the better of him, and he slammed his fist onto the desk. "Aap please jayie yahan se!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with frustration.

Mr. Oberoi stood there for a moment, unfazed by his son's outburst. He gave a slight nod and turned, leaving the chamber with the same air of authority he had entered with.

As the door closed behind him, Anirudh let out a deep, shuddering breath. The room felt emptier now, filled with nothing but the echoes of words left unsaid and the weight of a battle he knew was far from over.

As evening descended, the sky painted in hues of amber and purple, Anirudh left his office, his mind clouded with thoughts. He drove towards Oberoi Mansion, the weight of the day hanging heavy on his shoulders. Upon arriving, he parked the car, took a deep breath, and stepped into the grand hall of his family's estate.

Inside, his father, Mr. Oberoi, sat beside Aarav, discussing the new project. "Beta, yeh naya project jo hai na, kuch clauses mein changes hona zaroori hai," Mr. Oberoi said, his tone firm, hinting at his disapproval.

Aarav, always relaxed and confident in Anirudh's decisions, smiled warmly. "Papa, Ani ne agar final kiya hai toh thik hoga na..." Aarav paused for a moment, sensing Anirudh's presence in the room. Without even turning around, he said, "Ani, tu aa gaya."

Anirudh smiled faintly, his heart warmed by Aarav's trust. He walked over and handed him the file. "Aarav, yeh..." he began, intending to explain the contents.

But before he could finish, Aarav took the file and picked up a pen, signing it immediately without a second thought.

"Aarav, sun toh lo," Anirudh tried again, his voice soft but insistent.

Aarav looked up briefly, his smile unwavering. "Tumpe vishwas hai mujhe," he said simply, his trust in Anirudh absolute.

With that, Aarav stood up and casually made his way towards his room, leaving Anirudh standing there with the signed file. Anirudh glanced at his father, who sat silently, his face hardened with disapproval. It was clear that Mr. Oberoi was not pleased with the way Aarav trusted Anirudh implicitly, bypassing his own authority.

The tension in the room thickened as Aarav's mother, Rano, walked in. She eyed Anirudh with distaste and turned to her husband. "Alok, sirf tumhari wajah se main iss ladke ko iss ghar mein bardasht karti hoon! Mere bete pe pata nahi kya jadoo kiya hai isne ki tumhari baat bhi nahi sunta," she spat, her words dripping with resentment.

Alok, Anirudh's father, responded coldly, his gaze hard on his son. "Rano, mujhe bhi iss najayas aulad ko paalne ka shauk nahi hai. Par sirf apne bete ke liye isse yahan rakha hai," he said, his words cutting deep.

Anirudh stood there, his heart sinking as the familiar sting of their words hit him once again. No matter how much he did for the family, no matter the success he brought to the company, to his father and Rano, he would always be a reminder of something unwanted, something lesser.

Without saying a word, Anirudh turned and walked away, his expression stoic as he ascended the stairs to his room. Inside, the silence felt suffocating, but it was the only place where he could find some semblance of peace-away from the judgment and whispers, away from the pain that had become all too familiar.

Anirudh stood at the window, having changed into more comfortable clothes, his gaze fixed on the darkening sky outside. The weight of the evening's events hung heavy on his shoulders, and the stars above seemed distant, unreachable. He exhaled deeply, trying to steady his thoughts, when the soft creak of the door caught his attention.

"Ani..." Aarav's familiar voice broke the silence as he entered the room carefully, his steps measured as he made his way toward Anirudh.

Anirudh turned to face his brother, his voice gentle but concerned. "Aarav, kuch chahiye tumhe?" he asked, trying to sound casual despite the turmoil in his mind.

Aarav smiled, his tone playful yet filled with affection. "Haan, mere bhai ki hasi," he replied, his words carrying warmth.

Anirudh sighed, feeling the tension ease slightly but still weighed down by the lingering hurt from their parents' harsh words. "Tum..."

Before he could continue, Aarav interrupted, his voice soft but reassuring. "Maa papa ne jo kaha, uss baat ka bura mat maan... Dekhna, ek din Maa tumhe dil se apna lengi."

Anirudh's lips tightened into a faint smile, but his heart wasn't in it. He hummed a non-committal response, as if to acknowledge Aarav's words, though the sting of rejection still burned inside him.

Aarav, sensing the heaviness in the air, sighed deeply. "Meri wajah se tumhe itna sab sunna padta hai," he began, guilt lacing his voice. "Par main bhi majboor hoon na, Ani. Andha hoon, bina laathi ke toh chal bhi nahi sakta. Toh papa ka business kaise sambhalta?"

Aarav's words, though said with sincerity, triggered something in Anirudh. His usually calm demeanor broke for a moment, his voice rising in frustration. "Aarav!" he said, his tone sharp but filled with emotion. "Main hoon tumhara sahara, hamesha rahunga!"

The intensity in Anirudh's voice hung in the air, the declaration carrying more weight than just words. Aarav looked at him, his expression softening. He knew his brother carried burdens far greater than anyone realized burdens he hadn't asked for, but shouldered willingly for the sake of his family.

Anirudh took a breath, calming himself. "Tumhari majboori meri zimmedari hai, Aarav. Main hoon, hamesha tumhare saath," he said, his voice gentler now, the anger giving way to a deep, unwavering sense of loyalty.

Aarav reached out, finding Anirudh's arm, giving it a squeeze. "Mujhe pata hai, Ani. Tum ho isliye main sambhal pa raha hoon," he whispered.

For a moment, the brothers stood there, the silence between them filled with understanding. They didn't need many words Aarav's reliance on Anirudh was something deeper than just necessity, and Anirudh's love for his brother was unwavering, even if it came at great personal cost.

The weight of their family's dynamics, the responsibilities they carried, and the harsh words of their parents none of it could shake the bond they shared.