episode 25 atishoo

atishoo atishoo we all fall down.
caught between two sneezes, episode 25. and a design that moved from light to passion again. perhaps after the last two episodes that had made breathing difficult, it had been decided to give the viewers a respite. because after that, wham, it was mahaepisode time.

this week it became clear that there was an attack on the dimaag man's dil. and try as he might he couldn't slam the gates shut. the enemy had crossed the drawbridge and stood there, one mojri in. yet the valiant asr tried. poor arnav singh raizada. reminded me strangely of poor professor higgins. bit of eliza in nutty and innocent ms kkg certainly, and a bit of higgins's crusty matter of factness in asr.

at the first sneeze, khushi managed to make a mess of lighting the candle on payal's cake, shyam offered his kind help, ugh. and everything went gentle, sweet, lilting then on, bua ji's pointed remarks the only riff of nastiness, a perfect accent. between bua ji and mami ji they make sure the sweetness level never exceeds a certain limit, good for our health the two extreme aunts. but what's this bua ji, cake for nandkissore? hai re, aren't there eggs in it? must say, that cake was a nice touch, even the most desi homes somehow associate birthday with the phoren concept of cake.

on the other side seethed the man under siege, as he paced up and down haldi doodh in hand. a lovely desi touch to the angry young cosmopolitan man. he's looking for a way to make sure she doesn't get chain ki saans. he must get her out of his mind, his life, he must get her to resign. type me a million letters on rickety typewriter now and come and give it to me seven am tomorrow. as he makes his unreasonable demand, the mercury rises just a bit, then again back to calm and cool. and shyam leering at jhalli while she clickety clacks the night away, cursing the rakshas with three names every time she comes up for air.

rakshas in the meantime is in bed, first time i'm seeing him there and looking away is impossible. however, sleep eludes him. only thoughts of her. try as he might, no use, she's there. now turning around, innocent alluring beautiful in red. and now in the rain, shivering, soaked to the bone, trembling; he wants to protect her. toss, turn, and toss some more. poor asr. life just ain't fair.

morning brings bright and competent khushi in sunny yellow churidar kameez edged with gota, to rm. the humour level is up, khushi's expression upon making an unthinkable connection is a clear sign of it. laad governor is the brother of the ladylike anjali ji? what.

and even as the poor girl tries to come to terms with it, the next shock. what the... the man loves to garden. he's poring over his plants, so unlike the man she meets otherwise. she can't seem to process the information.

just at that moment, he turns and seeing her standing there, completely taken aback, he trips on the edge of the pool and falls. but she reaches out instinctively, as does he, and steadies him. no fall. just the perfect first poolside rabba vey.  both gripping the other's arm. this time she notices her hand holding him and lets go.

his eyes start to darken looking into her face, again that searching gaze. then the spell is broken. everything is lighter today though, even him. he's somehow less brusque and peremptory, but taciturn as ever. maybe it's an early morning state of mind, only when he's at home, and before the jacket comes on.

first rabba vey by her tears, the next under a sheet of rain, and now by the pool. water water everywhere. the ocean is never too far, is it.

somehow anjali is a crucial part of this meeting of the two at rm. she will have a major role in their lives no doubt. right now, he's surprised di knows this girl. and despite his insistence and her reluctance, di is not letting her go without having something to eat. it's one of those days and anjali will not give in.

so we come to the dining table and naniji's insistent but loving hospitality, khushi must sit here right next to her where chhotey usually sits. mami ji peppers the scene with her balancing rudenesss in chaste engleesiya. anjali is indulgent. then the man walks in. the jacket is on, and oh does brown work for him.

khushi sees the look and tenses up, now what's coming. 

things would have gone on in this vein if it hadn't been for the second sneeze. they both sneezed at the very same instant. a look at each other across the table. di said bless you to both. maybe they'd recover from the moment quickly.

then nani reminded them of the rain. did khushi get drenched last night like chhotey? the night before she had mentioned the diya, fire, and brought khushi right back to his mind. today she spoke of water, and in a second, heat rushed in. the scene grew dense, the music passionate, tempo rising.
they looked at each other. memories flashed.

in khushi's mind.
      
in asr's mind.

 
just the two of them. close, up against each other. he couldn't stop looking. and she kept on asking things unknown.

rain and rabba vey episodes

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episode rambles

fan fiction

the unsaid, the unuttered, the moments are drenched in their downpour. two tv actors take you to attraction and leave you soaked, shivering slightly.

episode 24 (contd) rain talk... (vm)

i've let the caps remain unedited, fuzzy, as i'd made them off low res uploads, even in this state, they talk and say all they have to.
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ab rona mat shuru kar dena.

now don't start crying.

so he had noticed the tears welling up in her eyes just a short while ago. when he insulted her, tried to force her to wear that skimpy thing in blue. and later when he just couldn't look away as she stood there all woman in red.

he had noticed her aansoo, and it had started hurting him somewhere. the first few times of the "har baar " her tears affected him. it was beautiful. what we saw in early july of 2011 had reference and context in a statement made months later on 21 september 2012. this is story telling, writing. and there was so much of it in ipk. even when it was clear that the story was being mauled, i always felt, the writers, led by ved raj and gautam hegde, tried their best to keep something of ipk alive (though i have railed against them as things got more and more frustrating and doubted their storytelling, the very thing i laud here and always loved).

and of course, the actors fought valiantly. especially barun. how hard he tried to hold on to asr while his own production house and the channel were busy letting him go to faceless "good" man hell.

as desperately perhaps as he was holding her shoulder in the scene that came just before he said that about crying.

 

every part of this episode felt extra carefully and lovingly crafted. the words, the framing, the lighting, the edit, the music, the perfectly timed sound effects of thunder lightning rain screeching tyres, and of course the acting. nothing faltered, everything fell into place and said much more than what was apparent. we were almost being invited to look deeper. go beyond the veil, that sheet of rain, find the hints and clues scattered just beneath the layer.

as the water streamed in torrents it was as though he was drowning. in her. his eyes said he'd forgotten everything in the turmoil of that moment, when he thought she was going to be hit by that car, and he just lunged forward, caught her, and felt her body close against him. something seemed to have taken the wind out of him, and it was more than the panic of the moment. he doesn't let go, even when it is fine to do so.

she notices first. then he. how his fingers grip her slight shoulder. then as though realising something he doesn't even want to look at, he pushes her away. one swift move. and as she looks on shocked, he turns and begins to walk away. the ocean ebbs... but not for long. again he turns. looks at her, now his gaze is holding on. he doesn't want to. but there it is.
the only thing to break the spell is anger. so it is summoned. and then the ocean surges back toward its shore, jacket in hand.

"kyon mujhe pehli baar aisa laga ki main... ki main shayad kuch galat kar raha hoon
main sahi hoon
main jo kar raha hoon, sahi hai
phir kyon
kyon mujhe ussi ka khayaal baar baar aa raha hai
sirf ussi ka chehra
mujhe bura nahi lag sakta
nahi
uss ladki ke liye toh kabhi bhi nahin
arnav singh raizada ko kissi ladki se koi faraq nahin padta!"

why do i feel for the first time that perhaps i am wrong? i am right. what i'm doing is right. then why? why are her thoughts coming to me again and again? only her face. i can't feel bad. no... and for that girl, never. no girl makes any difference to arnav singh raizada! 

those words throw a poignant light on the character of arnav singh raizada. wrapped among those simple direct sentences is a story of a man's whole life somewhere. there was a terrible "galat" in that life, and  that set him on the path to never be wrong, to do and be right. "sahi." in his eyes even the whiff of galat is intolerable. zero tolerance. why?
and that need to be right. so absolute. why? and why too that last sentence: no girl makes any difference to asr. why the accent on "kissi bhi"? what had happened that involved a girl and lots of galat? that was so central to his inner sense of himself? he could handle a lighter, less involved relationship like the one with lavanya, where obviously his and possibly her deepest part weren't involved, but he was determined "kissi ladki se koi farq nahin padta". powerful crux to a character. delving into it could lead to such riveting places. certainly there was lots more to the tale when it all started. i so wish we'd heard it all.

his mind plays back every instant in their lives when he was harsh, wrong in his action toward her: the snapping of the dori, the tearing of the dupatta, the dropping off from the upper floor, the forcing her to model. he can't bear it. he stops, and steps out into the rain, seeking answers, perhaps absolution.

we see the deep conscience of a man and his ability to examine himself. had he been the brusque, win at all cost guy, who uses his power, money, gender to get his way, would he have saved her, or walked back with a jacket, or screeched to a halt in the middle of the road to have that conversation with his self? his first one before us.

wonderfully though in the sentences, his admission that she has begun to enter his mind, transgress his sacred isolation. he is thinking of her, baar baar.

barun's body language was outstanding in this sequence. as though he is trying to fend off a terrible thing, stiffening his being up against the onslaught, putting his feet firmly on the ground so that he can't be knocked off them. first the storm in his eyes, then the growing resolve. no. he will not give in. when is the last time i saw such superb interpretation and direction.

"jiji toh sabse zyada. aur upar se aaj jiji ka... woh darasal aaj hamari jiji ka janamdin hai...
pata nahin hum aap ko yeh sab kyon bata rahein hain.. woh asal mein hamse chupi sahi nahin jaati... issliye hum kuch zyadahi bol dete hain."

most of all jiji. and on top of that today is her... actually today's my jiji's birthday... don't know why i'm telling you all this... actually i can't take silence... that's why i speak a bit too much.

khushi can't handle silence... tells us of an inner turmoil maybe? and on the other hand, he can't take noise... likes khamoshi. 

khushi kumari gupta was lovely today, even more beautiful than in that red saree of hers i thought. sanaya's delicate features gleamed highlighted by the light reflected off the water clinging to them. she was slim and enchantingly vulnerable looking at this time, and the camera seemed to adore her innocent yet strong and always a bit nutty khushi.

                    

she was like chandni raat and he like dhoop. and she was about to get really mad at him for all the terrible things he'd put her through.

"maaf kijiye...par woh issi khitab ke layak hain... kyonki woh.."

forgive me, but he is fit for that title, because...

and smoothly, almost tenderly, akash cuts in:

"sakht hai, (a little pause and a smile)
unka swabhav aisa ho gaya... bahut hi kam umr mein unpar bahut zimmadari aa gayi thi..."

he's tough... he's become like that. at a very tender age a lot of responsibilities came upon him...

how much love for that rude man in his cousin's voice. and the story begins to open. something happened to him at a very young age. something that made him so hard. when i connect it to the man in question's own breakdown in the rain, the rain seems to enter my heart, healing and hurting at once. screenplay, oh the sheer brilliance of it here.

"hum yeh sab nahin jaante...
par aapke swabhav aur unke swabhav mein kitna antar hai... aap kitne sajjan purush hai, aur woh, rakshas hai, rakshas!"

i don't know all that, but there's such a difference between your behaviour and his... you seem like such a good man, and he, he is a monster, monster!
 
at rakshas, the biggest testimony to asr's character, the driver turned with almost a glare at the one calling his boss all sorts of things. akash gestured: no, calm down. the man who barks and yells at all, seems to command a strong sense of loyalty from those he never bothers to be politically correct around. interesting. and again clever screenplay to say much without wasting any time. all these days we've seen how awful asr is, now it's time to wonder, is he?
                                

 

                           

while one man seemed to leave her in the downpour and walk away at a late hour, two men stepped up and offered safety, shelter. makan, shelter, a basic need came to mind. and what is the role of these two men? akash held firm in his resolve and refused to let her be, though khushi in her "i can manage" way urged him to go. he acted as a true friend, he was also the one to point out to her that she was special for she had dared to defy one whom everyone feared. shyam would offer her shelter too in the form of a husband one day, but that would be as much of a lie as his answer to her question as to why he stares at her like that. 

and the man who walked away? no, he didn't give her an umbrella, but he sheltered her in his arms, shielded her with his life. that car could have hit him.

a jacket and a dupatta. kapda, another fundamental requirement, clothing. he offered to cover her against the rain with something from his body. the amount of symbolism that holds especially in the context of indian weddings where a vastra from the man covers the head of the bride as a sign of "i take care of you food and shelter," is staggering. and the intensity in barun almost gave a sense of sanctity to that offer. off course, he then flung it at her, angry at his own feelings.

and she as much on cue it seemed, rejected the offer. angry at this heartless man, unwilling to take any help from him. whereas akash's offer of a gift for her sister got accepted. and so a lovely yarn was spun around how a man's gift of love, of hopes of union, of being her protector, her lover, reached the right girl. it was done so smoothly, left you breathless and happy.

the rain got mixed with a visual connection between another set of lovers who were not at all aware of their emotions. yet. but joined they were by a sneeze, thanks to a naughty storyteller.

haan, said she. choo, completed he.

and the deal was sealed. his eyes looked troubled and lost still. and then in walked nani and reminded him of a diya. torment again. only to be saved by mention of his sister's troubled state of mind.  kya? kya hua di ke mood ko? and after mami had given her account in the way only she can, he wanted to know if di had given that woman a piece of her mind. in the midst of this exchange, the cutest reaction from anjali to her lecture giving bro: go dry your own hair, a little towel fling (so you think you can get away with jacket fling). how cute and natural was daljeet here.
 
then the cutest smile from her brother, a little glimpse almost of that boy of "kam umr" on whom had come all that "zimmedari". there was a part of arnav singh raizada kkg would never have believe existed. today i am dazed by it, a few days down the road she will be too, by that same tenderness in the man for his sis. again, beautiful design, nothing is wasted, superfluous, gratuitous. every opportunity is taken to enrich the narrative. 

"tumhe nahin lag raha tum uss chhotey se employee ko kuch zyada dhyan de rahe ho?" 

don't you think you're giving an insignificant employee a little too much attention?

"enough, lavanya... number!"

"khushi kumari gupta... itni asani se chaain ki saans nahin lene doonga tumhe."

khushi kumari gupta, not letting you get off the hook so easily.

chain ki saans. she has robbed him of his peace of mind, how can he let her rest. our journey to faraq padta hai and humari dhadkane has begun in earnest.

the rain and a vm... watch here.

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rain and rabba vey episodes

episode rambles 
fanfiction

not cut out for love: chapter 46

"take it off," he said softly placing her hand gently on the dark red fabric.

khushi almost winced at the urgency in his tone, a demand yet a need that made her stomach muscles clench.

take it off? what was he saying? the fabric was rough against her skin. she felt her fingers move and clutch a handful of red, she felt her breath shudder.

his hand lifted languidly and went slowly toward her face, she could feel its approach, a warmth coming nearer. a candle light flickered and she started just as his fingers brushed against her forehead and found a tendril of hair and pushed it with a touch as light as a gossamer odhni, tucking the hair behind her ear.

a flash of heat rose right from the pit of her stomach and careened to her cheeks, her ears, the back of her neck.

"khushi," he murmured looking up at her, brown eyes glittering, lips a little open... that slight dip on the right side accentuated.

"take it off," his voice was hoarse as he repeated the words. khushi couldn't look away from those eyes, she could barely breathe but her hand began to lift as if she had no will over it, a part of the night's raiment still crushed in her nervous palm.


***

after the wedding ceremony and all the formalities were over, the brides and bridegrooms along with the families and a few close friends had sat down to dinner. waiters rushed around serving delicacies, from lucknowi kababs and biriyani to the best chat and tandoor specialities of delhi.

of course, everything was vegetarian, since at raizada mansion the tradition was maintained. yet nani ji had called mama ji the day before the wedding and told him to organise a tandoor in the lawns which would serve lamb and chicken kababs from her home town, kakori, reshmi, gilauti, tangdi and more. she had told her extremely surprised son, this was being done to make the guests feel welcome since she knew most of them ate meat. mama ji had assented silently and gone to comply with his mother's wishes, knowing well for whom she was making the exception. her grandchildren, of course.

nani ji walked around supervising, making sure everyone was eating and being served with what they wanted. her smile was wide and refused to leave her lips and her eyes. lakshmi ji followed her wherever she went, looking rather glamorous in her red banarasi jacket and colourful beads from chandni chowk.

"aap theek se kha rahein hain na?" she asked khushi and payal. both smiled at her shyly and nodded, "eat properly, khushi bitiya, payal bitiya... you've had such a long day!"

(you're eating properly, aren't you?)

"and now you'll have such a lambi suhag bath!" piped up nk from somewhere.

(and now you'll have such a long wedding bath!)

something clattered, metal against metal was heard.

anjali laughed, "not suhag bath, nk bhai... suhag raat... wedding night!"

nk looked embarrassed, and grinned amiably.

lakshmi said, "meeeh... meeh!"

"naahin, lakshmi ji... aaj aapka suhag raat nahin hai!" nani ji quipped and moved to take care of her guests at the next table.

(no, lakshmi ji, it's not your suhaag raat tonight!)

"kya hua?" asr asked looking at an uncannily silent khushi, "why aren't you eating? are you okay?" he frowned as he saw her spoon was lying on the table and not her plate and there was food all around it. she'd obviously dropped it.

khushi looked up caught off guard and stared at the deep furrows on his forehead. "huh! shaadi ke din bhi jwalamukhi chehra!" she thought before she could stop herself. then she realised why he was frowning and blushed violently...

(huh! on the day of his wedding too this volcano look!)

"pata nahin... khane ko man hi nahin kar raha," she whispered back, not wanting to be questioned by anyone else... "shayad, acidity..."

(don't know... i don't feel like eating... maybe it's acidity...)

"okay!" said asr crisply, "i'll get some food organised, you can eat later..."

"later?!!!" khushi was now in panic..."kaun sa later..."

(later? which later?)

"khushi?" her husband looked at her, eyes concerned, leaning closer and peering at her, "tum theek toh ho?"

(you're alright, aren't you?)

khushi moved back instantly, putting some distance between them and turned around hastily saying, "kareena ji! kareena ji! you are looking so pretty in that blue saree, kahan se liya??" khushi's voice sounded high pitched, not lilting and pleasant as it usually did.

(kareena ji! kareena ji! you are looking so pretty in that blue saree, where did you get it from??)

anjali had requested kareena, salman, jean pierre and lavanya to stay back. since both the young men at home were getting married, and there was only nk left apart from herself to complete the very important "rasam" of teasing the newlyweds before letting them go for their suhag raat, she'd asked all of them to join in.

kareena was about to reply when khushi called out to jean pierre, "hawww! jon piye ji! dhoti!!! so handsome you're looking... like a bridegroom... haw, who helped you wear it... salman ji?!!"

salman shook his head. khushi was not sounding like herself at all.

by now almost everyone at the table was looking at her a little surprised. amma and bua ji were shaking there heads in consternation. now what had come over sanka devi.

payal, who was sitting next to her sister, tugged her hand below the table and muttered, "khushi, shhh! why are you yelling? what's the matter, something bothering you, kuchh hua kya?"

(has anything happened?)

"nahin! woh! acidity... jiji!!!" khushi mumbled and gripped payal's hand tight for an instant, then she cast her eyes down, looked extremely demure and began picking at her food again.

"hello hi! ha ha ha, tells all shahnai playerj and all mujik peoples to byebye, pilleejh... the newj raijaddan dee.aai.ell eej two in bhuns... bridewa bhi aur baja bhi... heehee... bhere eej baaaynd, haan!" mami said in a caustic tone with a too tinkling and sugar laden laugh.

(hello hi! ha ha ha, tell the shehnai players and all other musicians to say bye bye, please... the new raizada daughter in law is bride as well as musical instrument... heehee... where's the band!)

khushi did not see the look of concern melt away from the face of the man sitting next to her... and a decidedly wicked gleam enter the brown.

***

when it was time for the bridegrooms to walk into raizada mansion with their brides as part of the grihapravesh custom, anjali was all smiles standing at the door, "chalo chalo, you remember the way we do it here, don't you?... pick your brides up in your arms and walk in, dear strrrong brothers..."

khushi was looking sternly at her toes asr noticed. he gestured to akash to go first as he said quietly, "you found khushi, after all... so thanks, bro..."

akash looked at him puzzled.

"aman told me, he always does!" asr grinned, his teeth a flash of white.

his face wreathed in smiles, akash picked payal up. payal felt her cheeks go hot and lowered her eyelids.

"sweetheart, after this day you'll be with me, every day... every night... not just tonight," akash said in her ear and started to walk in.

billo mausi, who was standing nearby, trembled. seizing the opportunity the moment presented, rajat ji held her from behind and whispered, "sweetheart, tussi aaj sabse pretty lag rahi ho ji, mainu vaaste..." he hoped with this grand declaration he had fulfilled his wife's dreams and would not be called upon in the near future to pick her up.

(sweetheart, for me, you are the prettiest one here!)

the women ululated as akash and payal entered their home.

without saying anything to khushi, asr caught her in his arms and carried her over the threshold. all khushi could hear was the shrill sound of an aeroplane taking off, she wondered if the kabootar had come to delhi after all.

"ha... chhotey...i had told you na... uss din about iss din!" anjali was giggling happily and getting after her brother. she stressed the "uss" and "iss" for added effect just as she had done the first time he had walked in with khushi.

(ha... chhotey, hadn't i told you that day about this day...?!!)

something in her voice made khushi look at anjali and suddenly all strange thoughts were gone from her head.

anjali ji... di was not wearing her mangalsutra.

khushi's astonished eyes moved up to di's face. she noted di was looking radiant and happy. an overwhelming emotion swept her in its tide.

asr had just walked into the house and was striding toward the sitting area when khushi wriggled and jumped out of his arms and before he could react she was running back toward everyone at the door. she reached anjali and flung her arms around her, "di!" she said hugging her close, "aap bahut achhi hain!"

(di! you're very nice!)

anjali held her new sister in law close... "aap bhi itni buri nahin hain, khushi!" she said, her voice was calm and poised.

(you're not too bad either, khushi!)

mami ji looked at the two young women, her eyes beginning to well up. her poor anjali bitiya had been going through such a terrible time... everyone should love her as much as possible now, she felt... she had been perhaps worried in some corner of her mind that arnav bitwa's new wife would not understand what anjali needed, even take away bitwa's attention from his sister.

manorama raizada looked around archly and sashayed up to her daughter in law and son, akash made a move to let go of payal...

"noj noj!" his mother wagged her forefinger at him, "carryj yours bridewa and walks to the badrooms..." she commanded, then she winked at asr and said, "kahey, arnav bitwa, bhy you are isstanding heres only thees time, thees eej not satsang you knowj, thees eej suhaag raat... go gets the girls in reds and go to your... " she giggled and looked away, tucking her knuckle in her cheek, eyebrows dancing, jhumkas swaying wildly. nani ji looked exasperated but clearly she was happy and in no mood to reprimand her perennially embarrassing daughter in law.

(no no! carry your bride and walk to the bedroom... why arnav, why are you just standing here now, this is not satsang you know, it's suhaag raat, go get your girl in red and go to your...)

lakshmi ji bleated. jean pierre caught hold of kareena's hand and pulled her outside. he had  to kiss her right now, especially on that nose of hers... 

asr went and picked up his bride once more and held her in his arms. she went still and smiled tremulously. he felt his heart lurch again, then his heart beat pick up. damn, why must she look so beautiful, he thought.


***

the games had been played and both asr and akash had paid hefty sums of money to be left alone with their brides.

payal sat on the bed decorated with jasmine and roses, the canopy of the fragrant blooms all around her. flower arrangements brightened every corner and niche, there were even petals scattered on the floor. on the pillow was a heart made of red rose petals, "akash loves payal" was written with white flowers across it. payal was trying hard not to lose her nerve, not to blush, not to stutter.

she had never ever realised how completely a wedding uprooted you and then tried to settle you in a new environment within mere hours. she had always slept with khushi by her side... she wished she could go and get her sister over now. 

di and kareena had arranged her lehenga prettily in a circle. di had also thrust a silver tumbler in her hands, covered with a lace doily...

"saffron milk, payal... make sure akash bhai drinks it, it's going to be a long night," she had said smothering laughter.

payal had felt her cheeks go the colour of the crushed red rose petals then.

"payal," akash said tenderly as he walked into the room once everyone had gone.

payal looked up, trepidation on her face.

"ummm, what was your favourite subject in college?" akash asked pleasantly, the unintimidating slightly flaky smile on his face.

"ji?!" payal said taken aback.

"yeah... see, i am very nervous... i've never done this before, you know.. so why don't we sit and chat about college for a while. i loved college, how about you?" akash said walking around the bed and sitting on the other side.

payal relaxed a little, "chemistry!" she said shyly.


***
khushi's hands were shaking, she kept pulling the fabric away, she was going to take it off. at the thought, her heart beat pelted, her fingers shook... she felt his hand cover hers.

she gazed up and watched the brown eyes darken in the play of light and shadow.

he was smiling at her now, why were his lips trembling?


***

khushi looked around the room, at the bedsheets with pink roses, flowers everywhere... the flower bedecked bridal bed... it was all so pretty.

every girl dreamed of her wedding, her shagun, roka, her mehendi and haldi... then shaadi, pheres... and then, khushi gulped, her hands went cold... and then her suhag raat.

"mujhe toh darawne sapne aa rahein hain, yeh kaisi reet hai... akele ek ladki ko ek magarmach... nahin!" she pouted angrily, "ek jwalamukhi ke saath aise chhor dena!"

(i am getting nightmares... what sort of custom is this, leaving a girl alone with a crocodile... no! a volcano!)

"par hum nahin darte, samjhe aap, laad governor!" she hissed the words through clenched teeth and wagged her finger at no one.

(but i'm not scared, you lord governor, understand!)

"khushi!" asr said briskly, "if you have finished your conversation with the bed spread or flower streamers or whatever it is you're talking to... shall we go?"

khushi's eyes widened. that laad governor... and what is this going he was talking about!?!

she turned to ask him what precisely he was up to and gawked.

he was wearing a black silk shirt now with the suit he had been wearing all along.

where was the white shirt? why had he changed? this was jadoo tona... black magic, no doubt. black silk...not a good sign.

khushi's lips moved in an uncontrolled mutter. 

asr picked up his car keys nonchalantly and walked over to her. he held her hand and made her stand up, "come!" he said in his curt way. but why did she shiver?

it had to be black magic.

khushi held back. he easily pulled her along after him.

soon they were driving down dark delhi streets. it was almost eleven thirty at night. very close to the witching hour. she looked desperately at the stars... why were they twinkling so brightly? traitors... you can't depend on anyone these days bua ji said and she was right.

they reached the farmhouse... it lay wrapped in darkness and peaceful among the acres of lawns with their frangipani blooms and the krishnachura tree. the air around carried the scent of the night, the stars lay in a wide open sea of sparkle and glimmer up above.

he came around the car and pulled her into his arms and carried her without a single word, walking in.

candle light greeted them and large shallow peat coloured urlis filled to brimming with bridal red frangipani seemed to ululate as the flowers swayed on the water. khushi shivered again. where were they? why were they here?

then her eyes fell on the plush wide sofa on which just the other night, he had... they had... khushi struggled to find words. the cushions had been removed from the sofa, a wide expanse of pristine white covered the seat... it was a fine woven linen sheet, a little heavy and it lay smooth and silken surrounded by the shadows.

asr went up to the sofa and lay her down with infinite care on the white sheet. khushi was about to say something, anything, she was almost choking now.

he lay his finger on her lips and smiled slightly.

"main hoon, khushi..." he said evenly. why did his eyes look so disarmed? and why was her heart beat flowing now like a river, a stream... hey devi maiyya...

(it's me, khushi.)

she looked into his eyes wondering what she should do now. he bent down and lightly bit the single pompom hanging from her left sleeve, his eyes roamed over her face, down the arc of her neck, over the swell of her bosom, reaching her torso which heaved as her breathing grew frantic... his eyes came to her bare midriff, her navel. a smile seemed to flit across his lips again, she couldn't be sure. all she heard was the pounding in her ears.

she inhaled slowly...

he got up and left the room.


***

she was resolutely staring at an urli of crimson frangipanis on the floor before her when he returned. she saw a bit of something white and then his feet. they were bare. brown slim feet with a raised arch and a row of straight toes, perfectly manicured. her eyes latched onto the row of digits, and stayed there... what was this stirring in her, this unrest...

he leaned over, hooked a couple of fingers under her chin and made her look up.

he was wearing a red kurta.

khushi's eyes widened. it was the kurta she had given him. she stared open mouthed. he was actually wearing it.

"mooh band karo, khushi, aur... here, let me help you," he laughed and bent down, kissing her brusquely on her lips and moving back with a self satisfied smile.

(close your mouth, khushi, and... here, let me help you.)

"aap... aap ne yeh kurta pehna aur aaj!" she said, still thrown by the sight.

(you... you wore the kurta and today!)

"yeah! tumne diya, maine pehna!" he replied shrugging, sitting down next to her.

(yeah! you gave it to me, i wore it!)

"aap... aap.. bahut..." and she went crimson. she had never imagined anyone could look so rugged and male and handsome in deep red. she had so wanted to buy him something that day... with her own money...

(you, you are very...)

"khushi, do you know how beautiful you look in your shadi ka joda?" he mused, his finger flicked a pompom, he caught the edge of the diaphanous cloudy veil and pulled it... letting it slide off her head and her shoulders and fall in folds on the floor.

then he took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing her on the palm, turning and touching the other side with his firm lips where ornaments still glowed. khushi watched unable to move... her eyes fastened on his face, her ears picking every rise and ebb in his voice, every breath...

her breath moved along with his, catching its rhythm and flowing in unison. inhale exhale inhale... the only other sounds in the room were the flicker of candle light, the yearning of red frangipani, the simmer of water.

he took off her bangles one by one and dropped them on the deep pile of the cream throw rug. he kissed her where the neckline of her blouse hugged the hollow between her breasts and leaning close took off her necklaces. he looked for a moment at the mangalsutra and lay it back on her chest. his hand cupped her breast lightly for a fraction of a second and was gone. khushi felt a longing grow.

her earrings and mang tika came away too in his caressing stroking arousing hands.

after all the jewellery had been removed, he sat back and looked at her, eyes smouldering... a long long moment.

khushi stared at him transfixed.

when he reached out she had no idea what he would want of her... she had a feeling she would give it to him, here in the quiet of a desire, a cascade of red and white and undulating water and play of light and dark.

he took her hand and laid it on his kurta and said, "take it off..."


***

earlier in the day, when he'd decided he would wear the red kurta he hadn't really given it much thought. he had wanted to wear something she'd given him, bought in fact with her own money.

he had no idea why this should matter, but then since it did, he'd made sure aman had set up the farmhouse exactly as he had told him to and left the kurta in the dressing room by the master bedroom.

it was while he wore it and the khadi slid against his skin and he felt the spark of the red that a feeling overwhelmed him... he wanted her to take this piece of clothing off him... bare him... see him naked underneath. touch his skin, explore him, know him... make him hers.

asr had blinked and made a face at the thought. what the f... this was abnormal. first, he was willing to even consider wearing a kurta... and now he was fantasizing about it???

he began guffawing all by himself... khushi kumari gupta, he thought, yeh tumne mere saath kya kar diya.

(khushi kumari gupta, what's this you've done to me.)

he heard her voice correct him... she was also singh raizada now. he chuckled. he had no one to blame for this ridiculous state of affairs but himself.

well, he believed he made his own kismet... good, bad, indifferent, chaotic... his responsibility... he felt his body stir and long for ivory taut skin, trembling tender lips, an errant lock of hair, he wanted to watch her losing herself in him...


***

with a little tug, khushi pulled the kurta off him...

shyness was rushing over her, making her turn her body away from him...

"look at me, khushi," he whispered, a grainy, moist hoarseness in his voice. he swallowed.

she lifted her eyelashes and encountered the expanse of smooth supple earth coloured skin.

below his square cut firm jaw, the column of a regal neck descended and from its base his shoulders flared out above the jutting collar bones, everything seemed sculpted... the swell and trough of muscles finely toned took her eyes on a journey... over fluid, long arms with infinite details, beautiful agile fingers, the square shaped nails neatly trimmed...

her eyes felt a hunger... she wanted to see him.

she looked at his chest at last. wide and reassuring... and stunning, tapering down to a narrow waist... her eyes moved lower... to his navel, his flat stomach, the muscles etched there. she could see a crop of hair rose from below that going all the way up to the base of his throat. dark, springy hair... she had touched it before, played with it.

he sat there with his easy elegance, bare to the waist, still in his white aligarhi pyjamas.

"won't you touch me, khushi?" he asked... he took her hand and placed it on his chest just where his heart beat and said, "here."

khushi's fingers curled wanting to draw him near. he took her other hand and put it against his lips and murmured, "here."

he lowered the hand then and placed it on his navel whispering, "here."

khushi closed her eyes, a warm melting sensation taking hold of her.

"arnav ji," she said on a ragged breath.

and he pulled her into his arms with both hands, "come 'ere, khushi... have i ever told you i can't live without you?"

his voice had never sounded this gentle before it seemed to her...

"and don't be scared... i won't hurt you... khushi..." he had pulled her over him and now his hand moved over her leg, khushi shuddered again, the lehenga rode up... she was sitting across him she realised, and she could feel his body throbbing against her.

khushi fell on his chest, her chest slamming against his, and covered his mouth with hers... he was touching her sweetly, roughly, unashamedly, unrestrainedly, gently here, urgently there... she moved with his touch, letting her clothes fall away one by one...

the cold air on her rib cage told her she had slipped out of her choli, then his hand was on her breast, then his lips, warm, seeking, nipping... she held his head to her body.

"take this off, khushi," he said laying her hand on his waistband.

khushi got up as if in a daze and eased the white cotton off him. he lay naked before her eyes, her lehenga was still on her... with a laugh he unhooked it expertly and let it fall and without giving her a chance to feel embarrassed, he caught both her hands and yanked gently making her fall flat upon him, along his length.

she took in a breath sharply.

they were lying flush against each other... absolutely naked.

he kissed her hard just as thoughts started to interfere with the hour... it craved a giving and a taking, a tasting and thirsting, a merging. where was the place for any thought here.


***

his fingers roamed to places on her body which even she had not touched before. they teased and coaxed, played and pleaded and wherever they went, they unshackled, untethered, unearthed...

he kissed her on her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her lips, she was hungry, but he wouldn't stop.

his lips were on her earlobe instead, then his tongue darted in and out of her ear, her mouth, his lips found her nipples next, she arched wanting him to kiss her on the mouth, but he moved to her navel suddenly... a warm moistenes cut a trail across her diaphragm and stomach... moving down.

she clasped his head, her fingers buried in his thick dark untamed hair... panicking a little, wanting him to stay.

wanting him to stop this exploration. he went still and she wondered why her hand moved away from his head and invited him to continue the plunder.


***

when he loomed above her, his visage dark on the shadow side, his eyes still glittering, for a moment she froze.

he smiled and said "khushi!" in that way only he did. she let her resistance leave...

she wanted to hold him and make him hers.

"hold me, khushi," he murmured lowering himself...

she screamed once and he covered her lips with his mouth, kissing and easing her in a way she never knew one could be eased. when she was at last calm, he moved again...

"never leave me, khushi," she heard him call out...

what was happening to her... how could anyone make one feel like this. khushi held him tight in her arms and neither realised their tears mingled as they kissed and let the night come and take them where it willed...


***

his eyes opened first. she lay there on his chest, spent and tired. he sighed and pushed her hair off her face, it tumbled onto his chest... warm flowing chestnut... a desire seemed to awaken.

suddenly her eyes opened, she looked up at him, remembered what had happened and sat up with a jerk. her hair fell like the folds of her dupatta and covered her gleaming body.

she was struggling he could see, a burgeoning shyness wouldn't let her look up.

"look what you've done to me," he said coolly. she instantly followed his gaze. on his chest, just below his right nipple, a red fiery bruise was visible. khushi breathed in sharply, covering her mouth with her hand.

"i think it's time i punished you for this..." he was laughing but his eyes held a suggestion of something else, an intimate touch.

he went to catch her and managed to do so with extreme ease despite her attempt to evade him.

as she pummeled him trying to get away, he looked at her seriously and asked, "khushi... tum theek ho?"

(khushi, are you okay?)

she had to hide her face against him at that, of course.

this laad governor was impossible... what a silly question, does anyone ask such a thing?

then she lifted her face and kissed him quickly on the cheek... "hum theek nahin hain..." she said in a meek little voice.

(i am not alright.)

he let go of her immediately, eyes clouding with concern, frown on its way... "khushi!"

khushi leaped out of bed and ran toward the bathroom laughing happily.

she just wanted to laugh for some odd reason...  yes, what bua ji said was right, she was sanka devi and parameswari and titaliya too... also pagal... and her arnav ji's "khushi!"


***

the hot water from the shower head came with force, stinging where it hit the skin at times. khushi lifted her face to the frisson of it, its thrill... its fluid power...

she reached for the soap on the rack by the shower, it had looked pretty... large and ivory white. creamy.

she couldn't find it...

she felt a warm soapy touch on her nipple, then her breast and her eyes flew open. his body came from behind and made contact. she froze... his hands rubbed soap on her in languorous circles growing larger...

his body grew hard, demanding...

khushi trembled.

she wanted to turn and hug him, she wanted to lean back and take him, lie supine against his every contour.

he pinched her lightly.

she stopped moving, that hurt.

"told you, there will be punishment!" he sounded deadly serious.

khushi whirled around and looked up at laughing caramel chocolate cocoa earth paani poori water brown eyes.

her eyes moved to the bruise... as the jets of water hit it, it began to wash away in streams of red...

it had been her sindoor...

index

chapter 47

not cut out for love: chapter 43

anjali woke up and grinned. chhotey was getting married today, in fact, this very evening. she lay in bed a moment longer to smile happily up at the ceiling while she patted her belly absentmindedly.

suddenly she frowned and pursed her lips, as a sense of urgency came rushing over her. there was a shaadi... no no no no... two weddings in their family today. what was she doing taking it easy and dreaming in bed!

she had to get up and organise the haldi rasam, the ritual had to be observed properly, anjali shuddered at the thought of anything, even the minutest detail, not done according to custom. these things were important. chhotey didn't understand.

she shook her head sitting up... it was the only ritual chhotey had agreed to other than the wedding rites themselves. if he had his way, she knew they would be sitting around a desk and signing papers in front of a colourless expressionless marriage registrar, that's all. really, chhotey was so... grey... about certain things.

again anjali made a face. but then her brow cleared. at least chhotey had decided to marry... to love... to trust.

anjali's thoughts went to sheesh mahal. growing up. chhotey always there, running after her, making sure she was okay... but there were the fights, maa and pita ji.

she swallowed hard. it was difficult... and chhotey never could stay immune to the discord, how could he... he was so young when the voices started filtering through the walls of maa and pita ji's room. he would come to her bedroom often at night and snuggle up next to her... while the voices soared and raged.

no, anjali shook her head, again unconsciously engrossed in thought... there was just one voice, you rarely could hear maa.

she shuffled toward her cupboard...

around the age of nine or ten, chhotey stopped coming to her, and she remembered his jaw seemed to set differently, harden, around that time too. a rigidity...

and then came the night when two gun shots finished everything.

it was too painful to ponder that night. anjali determinedly disentangled herself from her thoughts and reached for a bright yellow saree.

chhotey was getting married today and akash too... she had work to do.

mami ji walked into the room wearing a bright canary yellow kanjeevaram silk saree which she had had embroidered all over with fairly loud gold zardosi work. she wore a long heavy gold seeta haar on her neck extending all the way down to almost her waist, at least a dozen gold bangles of various thicknesses hung on her arms, not moving or making any noise because there was no place for them to even breathe as they jostled quietly for their perch on the neither too long nor too slim forearm. on her ears, manorama raizada wore large gold chandeliers with elaborate chains leading up to her large bun. and on her head shone a full mangtika, with its centre piece in pure filigreed gold, a glittering chain going along her parting to attach to the same bun at the nape of her not too long nor too slim neck. two chains fanned out from the centre along her hairline, dipping coyly over the forehead just a little and ending somewhere behind her ears.

"c'mans, anjali bitiya, let's hurry ups, bhe cants make the bwoyj waits... you cants eats bephore the ceremony, you knowj... my poor akas bitwa, supherrings already phor that honey beej... how they comings phram that ismall towns and isstings our high phalyings bwoyj!"

(c'mon, anjali, let's hurry up, we can't make the boys wait... they can't eat before the ceremony, you know... my poor akash, already suffering thanks to that honey bee... how they came from a small town and stung our high flying boys!)

anjali tried to hide her smile. mami ji was in form.

her eye shadow was glittery blue, her lipstick was bright coral. it was eight in the morning.
***

he answered the phone with a distracted air switching on his bluetooth ear piece as he buttoned his waistcoat. he looked somewhat sleepy still, though he had had a shower and was ready for the day.

"chhotey!" it was di, "tum kahaan ho? we must not be late for the haldi rasam, we have to start in a couple of hours and get the turmeric over to the brides' home before one o'clock... the mahurat ends at two, chhotey... where are you?!" she sounded excited happy and anxious, all at once.

asr walked to the window and looked out... a series of unfamiliar doors and windows were arrayed before him. the windows were opening, so were the doors, people were coming out and looking around, a monday morning was starting out in gomti sadan, it looked very different from the monday mornings he was used to.

"lucknow, di!" he said without thinking.

"what!!!!! kya kahaa tumne?" di sounded incredulous

(what!!!! what did you say?)

asr shrugged and replied in an even voice, "relax, di! it's okay... kuch kaam tha... i just wanted to make sure everything was in order... i'll be back a couple of hours... okay??"

(relax, di... there was some work... i just wanted to make sure everything was in order... i'll be back in about a couple of hours... okay??)

he had not told anyone at shantivan about khushi's disappearance or his trip to get her back. there was no point, they'd worry and the last thing he wanted was for di to get all tense. she had been going through too much lately.

"relax??? can you hear yourself talk? aaj tumhari shaadi hai... today is not like every other day that you fly off here and there the way you do, chhotey! it's perhaps the most important day of your life... oh chhotey, tum bhi na! i hope khushi doesn't know about this... she'd be so worried! now come back... don't be late... the haldi must touch your body before being taken across... that is the whole point... a little turmeric paste, auspicious and blessed, which has been on your person will be mixed into the bowl of turmeric paste we are getting ready for khushi... a sign of your presence in her life always, always by her side, protecting her, being there..." di was beginning to sound dreamy.

(relax??? can you hear yourself talk? it's your wedding today... today is not like every other day that you fly off here and there the way you do, chhotey!)

"di! did nirupa roy come up with this haldi ritual?" asr interrupted, trying to contain his laughter.

"chhotey!!!" di sounded scandalized. he burst out laughing.

the kabootar with beady red eyes flapped its wing and flew off. khushi came running from the bedroom clutching the keys to the house, they were supposed to leave soon.

asr coolly closed the deal, "if you don't put the phone down, di... how will i leave? i don't want to be late, you know!"

anjali shrieked, "chhotey!!!"

asr switched off the bluetooth with a laconic, "and don't worry about khushi, i've already spoken to her!"

he knew di would have a lot to say after that but he didn't want her to hear khushi's voice. he went up and put his forefinger on khushi's lips, shaking his head and telling her not to say anything.

khushi froze, his finger on her lips sent shivers up her spine.

but even standing a few feet away, she'd heard di's scream. her eyes went wide and faintly horror struck.

"hawww! aapne di ko kya bola?? she sounds so... so..." khushi protested, worried and almost accusing him, voice pitching up, the moment he disconnected.

(haww! what did you say to di?? she sounds so... so...)

"why do girls shriek so much?" asr replied buttoning the cuffs of his mauve shirt and perusing her slowly, eyes considering her red pompoms, moving up to her red jhumka and then with a satisfied smile coming to rest on the red red stone on her ring finger. he smiled ever so slightly. for some reason as he observed the several touches of red, those red flowers came to his mind, right by her nape... even her bindi was a deep carmine today.

and suddenly without warning, he was catching her hand and pulling her to him, "come here and shut up..." he whispered as he began kissing her.

khushi's eyes widened further... she pushed him with her hands on his chest and started mumbling even as his lips insisted on continuing with what they were doing.

"hum..ph..khu..ph..shi!!! kuma...phri... gu..phta... nahiiin gupta!..." she began her declaration, her chagrin rising along with her struggle to have her say, pronounce her name with clarity... with dignity.

"singh raizada!" he said clearly against her mouth and resumed kissing her thoroughly, this time making sure she couldn't speak or even breathe for that matter.

khushi had no idea when her arms had gone around his waist and she was holding him with all her might. her fingers had slipped under the waistband of his slim fitting trousers, she could feel firm flesh under the smooth material of his shirt and a slight curve that dipped down and then seemed to flare out. khushi melted against his reassuring unyielding body, she could feel herself flowing and beginning to not really care about anything... not even what he had just said.

a noise echoed in her ears... dhak dhak dhak dhak... whose heart was beating so fast? hers? or arnav ji's? what did it matter? was there any difference?

"khushi!" he seemed to whisper...

"...kumari gupta singh raizada," she said quickly, breaking the kiss for a fraction of a second and hurling the words quickly before going right back to the kiss.

asr felt his heart skip a beat.

and then she was flying out of his arms yelling, "hey devi maiyya, yeh humne kya keh diya... laad governor ke sirf doh naam... aur hum gupta bhi aur singh bhi aur raizada bhi!!! hey devi maiyya, raksha karna... itne naam leke hum karenge kya? hum bhi aise khadoos ho jaayenge... laad governor..."

(hey dm, now what have i done... laad governor has only two surnames... and i am gupta as well as singh and also raizada!!! hey devi maiyya, save me... what will i do with so many names? i'll also become terrible... lord governor...)

"magarmach?" asked the man behind her helpfully, dropping a kiss on her shoulder and saying briskly, "stop jabbering, khushi! let's go... got to reach in time for that haldi thing... take off is at 9.30..." he was shrugging on his brown jacket over his mauve shirt.

(crocodile?)

"take off? kya take off? i'm not taking anything off, samjhe aap?" khushi muttered defiantly. this man was too much, first he yelled at his sister, now he was saying awful things to her.

that too on his wedding day.

"nahin," she shook her head and thought, "hum bhi na!"  
(no... i'm silly!)

on their wedding day.

she was also getting married this evening.

her eyes grew so huge at the thought, asr wondered if something might be seriously wrong, then gauging the situation rightly, he calmly handed her his overnighter which she took without a word, took the keys from her unresisting fingers, propelled her out, locked the door, picked her up in his arms as he had been wanting to for some time and started walking out toward the suv parked outside gomti sadan.

at least a dozen pair of eyes followed him from the little verandahs, terraces and windows of the housing estate, with varying expressions.

rajat ji was rushing out to catch the train to new delhi, having been summarily beckoned by his wife to attend khushi and payal beti's shadi. when he saw the self assured man in a brown suit casually pick up gupta ji's younger daughter and with a little suitcase too, he almost called out. what was khushi doing here? rajat ji cleared his throat...

then something about the look on khushi beti's face and the stance of the man's back made him hold his tongue.

well, if khushi was eloping with another man on her wedding day, he rajat bhalla had better reach delhi soon, billo ji would need him... someone had to take the brunt of her extraordinary excitement at the occurrence of such a newsworthy event. plus, he had to make sure, she didn't completely demolish the reputation of their neighbours, he was very fond of shashi ji and garima ji and the girls were always pleasant.

asr walked fast, he could feel his heart beating erratically. he wondered if this were another sign of that thing called love. then he shook his head and thought, "what nonsense!"

the white pigeon flew past, no one noticed him.


***

"haye, main mar jawan, so he has taken hawai jahaaz to go and get her... what luck our khushi bitiya has, by god ji!" billo mausi gushed, then she narrowed her eyes, thrust her head forward, looked somewhat hungry and asked, "par... madhumati ji, what happened, haan ji, why did khushi have to go to lucknow suddenly, and that too without telling you all, you know?"

(oh... i could die!... so he has taken a plane to go and get her...)

her concentration was utter as she peered closely at her hostess's face. she didn't want to miss a thing... a hair pin fell off her juda, she didn't notice.

bua ji smiled brightly at billo ji.

then she swung both her hands in the air in the age old gesture of protecting from the evil eye and brought her hands back to her temples cracking her knuckles, and said beaming,

"arre billo ji, ee sanka devi bhi... i only had told her some time ago that i had left my light pink banarsi saree in lucknow, nand kissore... last time i went there... parmeswari went off to get that, bas!... so i can wear it for the weddings... two of them... haan!" madhumati paused, her eyebrows leapt up and down contemplating the beauty of this very special occasion, her locket got into position horizontal, her plait swung, "you know what a kindhearted and very caring girl our titaliya is... but, hai re nand kissore, how to make her understand she could not take the night train alone to come back, not safe these days... good thing, damad ji came and then phurrr flew off!"

billo ji had a feeling the truth was being kept from her, but the very thought of a man leaping into a plane, that too his own plane, to get his lady love back, gave her such palpitations, she settled back in her verandah chair and fanned herself with her pallu and wondered if rajat ji would ever do this for her.


***
"seat belt!" asr said in his usual curt way.

khushi was beginning to feel a strange feeling as captain raina started to taxi down the runway. she gulped violently, her finger fumbled with the hard metal end of the belt, trying to find the slot.

asr looked at her with a frown and fixed the belt, then turned away settling into his seat... he was planning to catch up on some sleep for the next hour.

but khushi was unusually silent.

he waited a couple of minutes, she remained silent. he put his finger under her chin and turned her to face him, "what's up, khushi kumari gupta!" he asked briskly.

there was no quick comeback of "singh raizada!" nor any flash of ire or mischief or anything in the large hazel eyes.

asr waited...

"nahin woh..." khushi mumbled under her breath and quickly looked away... she could feel tears smarting her eyes. what was wrong with her!

(no... that...)

"look at me!" he said sternly, khushi did as she was told... her red jhumkas and pompoms swinging.

"now tell me!" he commanded, there was a gentleness in his eyes, but khushi was looking at his third shirt button trying to gather herself.

his shirt was the colour of those light skinned baingans bua ji loved so much. she liked the brinjals fried with a tadka of mustard seeds and fenugreek, just a pinch of asafoetida and some dry red chillies with it... her eyes traveled up the buttons to his his firm chin and kept moving up to his face.

she gulped again. arnav ji looked so nice in this brinjal colour.

"kya baat hai, khushi?" he prompted once more, this time his voice had a trace of that concern so visible in his eyes.

(what's the matter, khushi?)

"aapko baingan pasand hai?" khushi asked

(do you like brinjal?)

"it's okay, khushi... just tell me, dammit!" he replied beginning to bristle.

khushi swallowed hard, her eyes filling with the tears that had been bothering her... "hum... hum...waise lucknow ke hain... aur aaj ke baad..." a sob escaped her. it had begun to descend on her that this was the last time she was leaving her home, her city... as she was. as she had been, all her life. khushi kumari gupta, gupta ji and his wife's flighty, slightly crazy but nonetheless lovable, younger daughter. just about twenty years old, talking nonstop, loads of plans and dreams.

(i... i...  am actually from lucknow... and after today...)

"khushi!" in a moment she was in his arms...

"you will always be who you are, impossible and pagal khushi kumari gupta..." asr said in a gruff voice.

"and lucknow... well, all you have to do is take the plane and come... whenever you like, darling..." as asr heard himself speak he had a feeling this was definitely a sign of love. damn, this was going to be hard to live with.

khushi wriggled and looked up at him, large eyes beginning to look a little happier.

asr wondered if there was any way he could control the barrage of feelings blocking all normal thinking. obviously, it was futile, and being a shrewd businessman he let it be, no point in expending energy when failure was inevitable.

"humey aur hawai jahaaz mein dar nahin lagta," khushi whispered, gripping his hand. very very tight.

(i don't feel scared in a plane any more...)

he remembered that very first time she had sat in this plane. she had held his hand just like that. even then, he hadn't minded...


***
"can't decide what i should wear to the two weddings, salman... help me!" kareena said to her friend.

"how about jeans and a tee shirt," came the murmurred reply, salman didn't even bother to lift his eyes from the drawing before him.

"sahreee, ma cherie," offered a familiar voice with its not very indian accent. it was jean pierre... he had just strolled into their room and he was regarding kareena with an amused pair of very bright eyes.

"and wiz your kind of colours, i seenk a pale powdery blue you know ze kind ze royalty, when eet still reigned, preferred... blue wiz a beet of seelver sequins will work just perfectly... what do you seenk, salman?" jean pierre was specific. kareena stared dumbfounded.

salman looked from one to the other for a moment and went right back to his drawing.

kareena blinked. what was jp saying?

jean pierre wondered if this were a good time to tell her, he had got a nice length of chamois satin in the palest smoothest blue on khushi and his chandni chowk trip and he'd actually had a seamstress scatter sequin across it the way he thought it would look good on this beautiful brown skinned girl staring at him.

amore seemed to have struck. salman sighed and thought, "i needed to work. some serious real work."


***

captain raina landed in delhi. it was eleven hundred hours, five minutes past. it had been a good flight, the skies had been particularly blue and clear.

index

chapter 44