not cut out for love: chapter 6

khushi was staring at the computer in front of her wondering how to tell her boss, that sweet and kind akash ji, that she had no idea how to use these machines. 

haan, give her a kadai and a ladle and some oil and a bit of sugar, flour, besan, yogurt and she could create magic. but this funny thing with a screen... and if there has to be a screen it ought to show you screen things, right? like salman ji?!! 

khushi smiled at the thought of her favourite hero, how handsome he was, how wonderfully upright and honest; no goonda, nahiiin no rakshas, could come anywhere near if he were around.

from the smile her expression changed to a grimace of severe distaste as she thought of the rakshas. but salman ji would never let that awful man who had dared to actually carry her... hawww.

her mouth opened and the "hawww" came out loud and clear at the thought of arnav singh raizada picking her up and holding her in his arms.

"staring as usual, miss gupta? and talking to yourself too?! interesting! i wonder how we could put these talents to use around here..." his voice was curt, with a funny sting in it, she looked around wildly to see where it could be coming from. think of the devil... did the rakshas have hidden cameras and microphones in all the rooms of his office!

then she saw him standing at the door to her right, the one that was shut and she'd wondered about.

now it was held ajar by him as he stood there looking at her, one eyebrow raised and a nasty lopsided smile on his handsome face.

handsome?

did she just describe his face as handsome in her mind?! khushi, tu paagal hai kya?

(khushi, are you mad?) 

she frowned ticking herself off and jumped to her feet, "nahin, sir, woh, main..."

"look miss gupta, for the kind of money i am paying you i do hope you can do a bit more than make faces looking into space and say incoherent things... akash will be here soon, please make sure work is done properly, and on time," the words came quick and clipped and before she could respond, the door had closed, the man was gone.

khushi stamped her foot indignantly and walked out of her room. she must find out something about the business of this shop and show this man what she was capable of. 

she was shashi gupta's daughter, she'd helped him run gupta sweets ever since she was 12. straight after school she'd go to the shop and work till late evening, doing her homework at her little green wooden desk behind the counter. she knew a thing or two about running a business. otherwise would that irritating uncle come back every day for their mithais?

who did this rude man think he was, crashing into her out of nowhere, jumping out from behind doors, and... and... carrying her?!!!

"laad governor aaye hain bade," she muttered as she went down the curved staircase toward the offices on the lower floor.

(lord governor or something, huh!)

***

he turned away from the door and went briskly to the work table where jean pierre sat sketching. he could feel something flowing in him, opening up, he wanted to get down to the concepts right now. the tide coming in... ideas, he must catch it now, the best ones got lost otherwise.

in a half meditative state almost, he reached for his laptop and placed it on the table among the sheets of paper covered with sketches and details and intricate doodles. frangipani. that's what he'd called the project till now. he frowned wondering if it was good or perhaps just plain... predictable.

"frangipani!" he whispered under his breath, trying the name.

"ahhnav, what did you say?" jean pierre lifted his head.

"no nothing, just wondering about the name..." asr sat down at a high stool by the table and started working on his laptop. he wondered why when he said the word, he saw her turn her head slowly and reveal a bunch of creamy white frangipani yellow toward the centre, lying seductively at the nape of her neck tucked into the hand knot she'd tied with her hair. he could almost smell the heady evening scent of the flowers.

frangipani... evening... scent... something was beginning to come together in his mind.

***

khushi stood in the centre of the open plan office, at least 20 pairs of eyes fixed on her. all looked a bit startled, agog really, and there was an uncomfortable curiosity in some.

she was coming down the stairs when payal had called to tell her bua ji and she had arrived. they were already at lakshmi nagar, the water problem had been fixed, all was well. khushi walked to a corner of the open plan office and stood there speaking to her jiji in hushed tones. 

"oh jiji, that's good, and pata hai, i have been really missing you... haan haan, only one day, phir bhi," she was toying with her parandi as she spoke, something in her feeling like a complete alien in this gleaming air conditioned office with its very non lucknowi air.

"nahin jiji, i'll come in the evening, after work," khushi replied when payal told her to come over to lakshmi nagar.

"work? kya kah rahi ho, khushi? what work?" payal asked.

(work? what are you saying? what work?)

"executive assistant to akash singh raizada at ar industries, jiji," khushi couldn't keep the excitement from her voice. 

"what? pagal ho gayi ho kya? tum naukri kar rahi ho? what are you saying? oh no, khushi, now what crazy thing have you done!" payal was quite agitated by now, knowing khushi anything was possible and one look at new delhi station and its jostling crowds had told payal one had to be careful in this city.

(what? have you gone mad? you're working... what are you saying? oh no, khushi now what crazy thing have you done?)

khushi felt a little sorry for keeping everyone in the dark, even jiji.

"no, jiji, i am sorry i should have told you, actually they called the shop in lucknow and offered me a job... nahin nahin, jiji, i am not doing bakwas, that's what happened... then i said, no, never... but arnav singh raizada called me... yes yes, i know... he got my number, what?!!! chhotu told you someone called and he gave him my number, aur aap ne, you didn't tell me... jiji..." khushi paused on a littel moue, then rushed on, "anyway, he said he'd give me as much money as i wanted... haan, yes yes he said that... fishy? jiji!! does that mean you think i am not capable of earning lots of money... ok ok... anyway, as i was saying, then the kabooter looked at me...haan kabooter... of course, it is important. that kabooter and devi maiyya...

there was a pause again as payal spoke at the other end.

then khushi started whispering urgently, "ok ok. i'll tell you everything when i see you, and no no, i was not scared in the hawai jahaaz... "take off" ke waqt unhone hamara haath pakda..."

(during "take off" he held my hand.)

"kya? sunai nahin de raha?"

(what, you can't hear?)

"i said, during take off arnav singh raizada HELD MY HAND!!" khushi said it all loud and clear.

it was only when she heard the last few words herself, practically booming, that she shut up abruptly. with a hurried, and now again sotto voce, "jiji, hum rakhte hain abhi," she quickly disconnected.

(jiji, i'm putting down the phone now.)

she could feel the eyes on her even before she'd turned around. and the uncanny silence. the entire floor had heard her "HELD MY HAND" obviously and when combined with arnav singh raizada it created a volatile compound obviously, there was a sense of explosion all around.

she looked on with panic in her eyes. what now! surely rakshas will throw her out of her job and that would be the end of her dream of making enough money for jiji's dowry, she thought.

then she saw a lovely young woman in the smallest dress she'd ever seen, with long never ending legs on even longer (or so it seemed) high heels in red, walk up to her swiftly.

"what... did... you.. say!! " the woman said furiously, though she kept her voice low. her face however was thrust aggressively at khushi.

"huh!! n..nothing, was just talking to my jiji..." khsuhi mumbled, taken aback by that anger out of nowhere.

"jiji!!" hissed the woman, "and who are you!! asr held your hand you screamed trying to prove something no doubt, making everyone hear that... your hand? yours? have you even seen yourself... in that.. that..." a scathing sneer was beginning to make itself very visible on her face, she shuddered, "that terribly downmarket thing with shiny stuff all over..."

"gota," said khushi suddenly finding her voice, who did this woman wearing whatever it was think she was, khushi was ready for battle now, "gota... that's what this shiny trimming is called and whether you like it or not, and whatever you call him, the man i said who held my hand, did hold my hand, samjhi aap? hum jhoot nahin boltey!"

(i don't lie!)

"oh really, and whoever you are..." began her opponent.

"hum khushi kumari gupta," said khushi looking her straight in the eye...

(i khushi kumari gupta.)

"chamkili, more like..." laughed the woman cruelly, "whatever. just don't go dreaming dreams about asr, understand?" now her air was quite proprietorial.

(shiny, more like...)

chamkili, shiny... not in the nicest way, more like wrapping paper or something, unpolished, a little gauche, overdressed, definitely downmarket.

khushi giggled. if not being downmarket meant one had to dress in clothes that looked like you couldn't afford more material, she'd rather not be upmarket, presuming that was the opposite of downmarket.

"who dreams of a rakshas, sapne aayenge bhi toh bure sapne honge" she said under her breath.

(who dreams of a monster, if dreams come also they'll be nightmares.)

"what!!!" an expletive from the high heel lady.

"lavanya!" akash's soft and easy tone interrupted them. eyes till now fixed on the two girls turned toward akash who'd just strolled into the office, a palpable calm began to filter in.

"i see you've met my new executive assistant, khushi ji," akash said as he walked up to them and smiled, "khushi ji, this is lavanya, our head of marketing, there's much you can learn from her if you want to make a career in fashion."

lavanya smiled at that and began to get distracted from her ire. akash had walked in a while back actually and heard the spat, everyone was too busy gawking to notice him. he wondered what lavanya would say if she heard bhai had in fact walked into their home holding this young lady in his arms. lavanya had long cherished dreams of being important to arnav singh raizada... really really important. not just a casual date once in a way. akash felt for lavanya, la to all of them. despite her haughty and at times pretty shallow ways, akash sensed a nice woman in her, a girl who could be kind and generous, and certainly la was sharp and great at her work, otherwise bhai would hardly promote her to marketing chief.

"your e.a., akash? what about pam then?" la was most fond of pam, who never missed an opportunity to make la feel great about herself, indulging flagrantly in what khushi would have called "maska marna", buttering. and la was highly susceptible to abject sycophancy, of course.

akash looked around casually, at which everyone quickly resumed work, then said, "oh, pam will stay on, you know she's not been keeping well, and i thought it might be nice to have some additional help, then bhai met khushi ji... and... oh well, come, khushi ji, shall we start?"

as khushi and akash walked away, la wondered where asr could have met this... this... cartoon. she had pompoms everywhere. ugh.


*** 

"no problem, khushi ji, if you're smart, learning to use a computer won't take you long. check with me and we'll work it out, ok?" akash assured khushi, and started showing her the basics of using the imac.

she sat while he stood behind her leaning over, instructing and demonstrating.

"chuha," khushi laughed and looked up at him.

(mouse.)

"haan, isse mouse, yaane chuha, kahte hain," he smiled at her glee at this strange nomenclature.

(yes, it's called mouse.)

they didn't hear the door open nor see a pair of eyes flare in anger.

"akash," said a curt voice, "would you please send your executive assistant over with the bali project papers?"

akash started and said, "haan, bhai, of course."

the door closed.

khushi clutched the files nervously and knocked on the door, then opened it peering in.

"may i come in... sir?" she asked, tentative, she really didn't want to mess up. too much had happened on her first day, all that shouting downstairs, and the confrontation before that.

he looked up from the laptop and snapped, "yes, miss gupta!"

she stepped in and made her way to him across the room when the young man at the table, head bent over some work, looked up.

"arre, yeh toh videshi lagte hain," she thought.

(oh, he looks like a foreigner.)

jean pierre saw the lissome girl with smooth creamy skin, a long plait swinging jauntily on one side, a high forehead, expressive hazel eyes, tremulous smile, and stood up involuntarily.

she was lovely. and just look at that innocence on the face, enchanting. his gallic heart couldn't help but respond to this.

"ahhnav!" he exclaimed, "do introduce me to your delightful ar lady, who ees she? your newest find? do we see 'er in ze bali sarongs?"

asr smiled stiffly and said, "jean pierre, this is miss gupta, akash's e.a."

"e.a., 'ow do you say zat...executive assistant?!! oh but mees gupta ees too lovely for zat!" clearly, asr's cold gaze and aloof air were not working on the young man.

"please leave the files on the desk and go," said asr.

"'ello, mees gupta," chimed in jean pierre at the same moment.

khushi had turned to go but turned back again when she heard the greeting.

still clutching the papers, she joined her palms and raised them, "namaste!" she offered a little nervously. then she saw his hand held out and thinking it would be rude to ignore, she offered him her hand, he grasped it gently and said, "namaastey, i am jean pierre, it's lovely to meet you, mees... er, what's your name?"

"khushi, j...j..jon! piye... ji, khushi kumari gupta..." she replied, quite bemused, stumbling over the unfamiliar pronunciation then solving it her own way.

she'd never met a foreigner before. of course, she'd seen them on tv, and in bhool bhulaiya and the residency and other historical sights, even on the roads in lucknow. but met one she never had. and certainly not such a pleasant young man who looked at her with obvious pleasure. yet, nothing in his gaze embarrassed her. it was almost child like in its quality. khushi wondered how eyes could be so blue. such a nice open smile jon piye ji had.

she smiled at him, now losing all her earlier trepidation. she did not see fine lips thinning to an irate grimace, the little asymmetry on their right intensified.

"khushi kumari... oh zat sounds so good, khushi... i know... zat means 'appiness, yes? i did my 'omework when i started working with ahhnav, you see," jean pierre wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, "may i call you khushi... ji?" he was indeed charming...

"haan, jon piye ji, of course!" her voice was very 'appy, no doubt about it.

"miss gupta, if you're done discussing the etymology of your name, maybe you'll excuse us?" flinty eyes looked at her, icicle voice brought a blast of frost into the room.

khushi almost leaped at the sudden wave of cold and rushed to do as he bid. nasty man, always being mean. so why did he want her here, she thought as she hurried out.

"ahhnav!" jean pierre was back to his drawings, "she is enchanting, ... no really... we must 'ave 'er for ze bali project you know. i love what she is wearing, so smooth and different, you know... very very different... did you see ze baubles 'anging 'ere and zere? zat is ze sixties, zat is a desire, a... 'ow shall i put eet, a feeling in ze 'eart... 'ere you know, in ze deel, the deel?" he was jabbing his chest frantically, trying to make asr understand what he meant, the dil is what he meant as asr understood perfectly, though he showed no sign of it.

instead asr's jawline had grown tauter at each word.

"jean pierre," he said trying to keep his voice even, "let's get back to work."

"ok, ahhnav, if you say so, " jean pierre shrugged and gave in, "but, we must take your mees gupta to bali... and now, i will dream of ze baubles."

asr's fingers jerked and flexed of their own accord. they wanted to throttle something. or someone.

there was a knock on the door... that door, again.

khushi walked in with a vase full of frangipani. velvety thick white swirls of petals, bright yellow toward the centre, their musky and pure scent wafting across the room.

asr stared at her nonplussed, his breath caught deep in him. jean pierre was right, she was lovely, and he wished she was... he wished she was...

what. what did he wish?

"excuse me, sir, akash ji aap ke liye yeh champa phool bheje hain, main yahan rakh doon?" she said and placed them on his desk before walking out.

(excuse me, sir, akash ji has sent these frangipani for you, shall i keep them here?)

he wished he could see her among the flowers and sands and forests and rivers and winding ways of bali.

as he completed the thought, he felt a physical jolt almost. what was he thinking! had he gone mad?
 

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index

chapter 7




 

not cut out for love prologue

banner designed by supriya.arshi

 

paper scrunched up, crumpled into little balls, was strewn all across the carpeted gray office floor. the clock showed 12 midnight. silence all around. not a soul in the office.

other than the man sitting there with his elbows on the desk, holding his head in his hands. arnav singh raizada was feeling restless.

a terrible restlessness that wouldn't let him be. he couldn't think clearly, couldn't concentrate, couldn't turn it off and get on with what needed to be done.

this was most unusual, he could practically switch the whole world off if he wanted to. even his dear elder sister, the only human being he cared for madly and badly and beyond reason, said there were times he forgot all about her. perhaps he did.

when work called, everything else receded, became secondary.

and look at him now.

there was so much pending. a whole new project in bali with an interesting young french designer. yet all he could think of was lucknow. and pompoms. and a pair of quivering lips.

damn.

he mauled the sheet of paper lying in front of him and flung it on the floor. 

"get out of my head, dammit!" he barked an imperious command at the constant intruder in his head. she looked back at him, fear in her eyes and said "aap aise nahin kar sakte... aap kyun aise kar rahe hain?"

(you can't do this... why are you doing this?)

she wore pompoms on her sleeves and hair and now she was getting angry, her lips were moving, was she muttering something, what was she saying... he put his head on the back of his chair and closed his eyes.

he had to do something about this...

this girl will drive me mad, he thought.

yet, why? why, when he had no time for women in his life... no place for them. they were just trouble... never was he ever going to let a woman ruin him. they were all the same... all, all, all.

another sheet of paper bore the brunt of his frustration.

no he was not going to give in. enough!

he got up abruptly, he was looking tired and disheveled, gorgeously so in fact. he slung his jacket casually over his shoulder, picked up his laptop bag and ran down the curved stairway leading out from his office. as he strode out of the building he said to the security guy, "i'm done, lock up the office, ok? goodnight"

"sir, shall i get someone to bring your car from the parking lot, sir?" the guy hurried after him. it was late and sir had been working since six in the morning...

"no, no, sharma, it's ok, i'll manage."

"but sir, it is late..."

he turned and fixed sharma with a glacial stare. was this man daring to disagree with him? thankfully, sharma realised the folly of his ways and shut up immediately.

asr reached the suv, got in with that easy elegance girls went crazy over, well on a good day he didn't mind a bit of that sort of attention, but tonight he was in no frame of mind to enjoy anything.

that awful restlessness.

as though something was missing... what, he had no idea. he wanted to see a pair of eyes. no he didn't. yes, he did. what nonsense. he started the engine, and pressed hard on the accelerator. he was not going to give in to this feeling.

***

next morning, he got up slightly groggy. but he knew what he had to do. that bali project was way too important to let something like this get in the way.

he called aman.

it was six in the morning. aman leaped out of bed. at this hour, it could only be one person. quickly he sipped a little water to clear his throat and answered the phone, "good morning, sir... aman here."

asr smiled. some things never let you down...

"aman, now listen carefully... take down this name... khushi. kumari. gupta. yes kumari, aman... k...u...m... okay, got that? she lives in lucknow. please find her and tell her we would like to offer her a job starting tomorrow... what? address?... how the hell should i know, aman? what do i pay you for... find out dammit!!"

aman tried to keep his voice calm as he replied "yes, sir, of course, sir, no problem, sir."

asr relaxed a bit, "okay now make sure she is here by tomorrow... salary? aman, pay her whatever she asks for. job? oh anything... let her be my assistant... oh that's you... okay, lavanya's then, or akash's... aman, what does it matter... just get her here, will you?"

he told himself this was a good idea. in fact, this was the only way to handle this menace. get her over, let the restlessness settle down... concentrate... get the bali project done. that'll be over in six months... and then.

and then?

and then... why? just ask her to leave, of course. go back to whatever small town she came from. six months. that's all he needed her here for. just for the project. after that he'd be free.


*** 

in lucknow, a young woman woke up looking bright and fresh. as she sat up in bed, she did several quick namastes, "hey devi maiyya, kitna sundar din hai aaj... aaj mausam hai suhana..."

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index

chapter 1

ncofl... never on a new year: epilogue

“hume lagta hai, you need a hair cut, arnav ji!” khushi blurted out when asr suddenly looked up while fixing his tie and caught her staring at him.

(i think… you need a hair cut, arnav ji!)

it was seven in the morning, she was still half asleep in bed. 
she’d heard some noise and her eyes had opened for a moment. he’d walked into the room from the adjoining dressing room just then, in a charcoal waistcoat over a light khaki shirt, black trousers, his hair still wet. he was pulling his tie around his collar, chin up, distracted air. she had no idea why but her breath had quickened.

she’d not been able to look away. and though her eyelids were heavy with sleep, she’d found it difficult to shut them. it was a strange problem.

a shard of light seemed to streak through brown irises for an instant. fine lips, with their natural asymmetry, the right corner dragging down just a little bit… gave a quick smile. a dark eyebrow went up. the knot was tugged and set in place.
“shut up, khushi!” said arnav singh raizada. his voice was husky with a note of that early morning crispness.

khushi ducked under the sheets.

her knees had started turning to water. she swallowed hard and shut her eyes tight. the butterflies in her stomach though refused to settle down.

something moved. a blast of cold air on her face. her eyes opened, startled. he was bending over her, he’d just yanked the sheet off her face.

she could smell his light musky aftershave, she could feel his breath getting warmer as he came nearer, she could see his lips open and his head turn…

and then he was kissing her on the mouth. a hard quick kiss. then a gentle slow one. then a murmuring soft barely there one.

the butterflies were setting up a storm. her breathing had almost stopped. her body was taut, all sleep forgotten.
he kissed her once more. this time on her cheek.

then he stood up quickly, flicked her nose, and turned away.
“remember, 9 o’clock, sharp!” he said, as he shrugged on his jacket and strode out of the room.


***

“arri! arri! bhy bhy… bhy you’j phalayings like thayt, again becomings madhumakhhi, ij eet? hello hi bye bye!” mami ji asked, her voice careening to highs at appropriate words such as “phalayings” and “ij eet”. she was dressed in her mooga mekhela.

to draw attention to her waist where she had tucked the chadar, she had worn a heavy gold kamar band. it lay in a dazzling arc around her left hip, the tiny bells along its edge jingled as manorama walked her usual sashay. that it was just about 8.30 in the morning was of course not allowed to interfere with manorama raizada’s choice of makeup, clothes or jewellery at all. she had also chosen a particularly bright pink lipstick this morning.

(hey hey, why why… why are you flying like that, again becoming a honey bee, are you? hello hi bye bye!)
she posed by her chair at the table and arched an eyebrow at khushi who was running down the steps, arms flailing and breathless, her maroon jhola with bright mirror work swinging about, her mojris almost off her feet.

“mami ji! hume nau baje tak… i have to reach the office by nine, arnav ji will be so angry if i’m late again!” khushi ran over to the table, breakfast had been served. she stuffed a poori into her mouth, grabbed a glass of lassi, tried to swallow the poori with some lassi, choked and and started coughing.

(mami ji… by nine i must…)

“dheere, bitiya, dheere!” mama ji said in his calm placid way, “i know today arnav bitwa and akas bitwa will be very busy because of the show… but have your breakfast slowly.”

(slowly, child, slowly!)

at this, manorama did a shimmy with her lips and hips simultaneously and sat down.

“aur aap, manorama, ka aap cow walk ke liye taiyaar hui gayi subah ma hi?” mama ji smiled indulgently at his overdressed wife, there was the tiniest hint of sarcasm in his tone.

(and you, manorama, are you all dressed up for the cow walk in the morning itself?)

manorama looked daggers at her husband. she would have said something but her mother in law was sitting at the head of the table.

hemangini raizada tried to hide a smile. she turned to khushi and said, “yes, khushi bitiya, finish your breakfast… payal bitiya will call chhotey and tell him you’ll be a little late.”
“nooo! nahin! nani ji!” khushi started chewing really fast and taking gulps of lassi, “i reach work late every day… he says nothing! but i know, he knows… even when he is out…! i’m sure he keeps track! that that…” khushi’s eyes narrowed, her lips thinned, several words such as laad governor, magarmach, rakshas, khadoos, chudail, jwalamukhi, shadyantri sher passed through her mind, then she weakly said, “…arnav ji!”

she couldn’t call him any of those things in front of the elders. hey devi maiyya, this man was driving her crazy.

“today he said, i must be there at nine sharp…!” khushi exclaimed and kept eating and talking.

payal watched her sister, her head shaking gently, a little smile on her lips. it was good that khushi was eating her breakfast even if she hadn’t stopped talking. both these activities were highly important to khushi. she was clearly very happy, and wanted to go to arnav ji as soon as possible. payal started putting butter on a hot toast, she could see her mother in law had finished her first one and was still looking quite miffed at what her father in law had said.

op appeared almost magically as he often tended to. his warm, ugly face was wreathed in smiles.

“babua peed on me!” his eyes shone as he reported the news and then disappeared kitchen ward.

mami ji’s face underwent an extreme transformation instantly.

“oh my clebhers boyj, my darlings mupphinwa, my kings… anjali bitiya wills nebhers by saydwa agains!” she said in a rush, the sweetest of smile on her lips, her eyes sparkled.

(oh my clever boy, my darling muffin, my king… anjali will never be sad again!)

adil, anjali’s son was almost four months old now. he was a chubby little fellow who smiled all the time. everyone adored him, of course. anjali sang him songs at night, her voice floated over the poolside. khushi had seen arnav ji smile to himself at times when he sat out there. watching him happy always made her stomach knot. she left him alone at such moments.

khushi grinned at payal, their nephew was the cutest thing ever and between them they called him balu jaan. balu, short for balushahi. after all, his favourite aunts, his mamis, were daughters of lucknow’s most well know sweet maker and who didn’t know his balushahis.

suddenly khushi hiccuped, her eyes widened to large circles, she shrieked, “kya! five minutes to nine!”

then she was flying out of her chair and down the hall before anyone could stop her. when she saw lakshmi ji at the door, she shouted “lakshmi ji, please pray for me… hum aate hain!” at the goat and she was gone.

(lakshmi ji, please pray for me… i’ll be back!)

“hooonh! phalayings!” manorama muttered and took a delicate bite of her well buttered toast.


***

“ah!” asr said, looking up as khushi walked into his office, “okay, aman, get it done! i’ll be back in about an hour!”
he got up and walked around his desk briskly. aman, who had been sitting across the desk, going over the details of the show once more, got to his feet too.

“let’s go!” asr said to his wife, who stood there looking flustered. he caught hold of her hand and started pulling her along, moving swiftly, going down the spiral staircase that led from his office to the lower floor.

“hu–um kahan jaa rahe hain, arnav ji!” khushi asked sounding confused. where was he taking her? and what was the rush?

(where are we going, arnav ji!)

asr didn’t bother to reply. he kept walking fast, his steps long, his slim trouser legs wrapping around his ankle, not getting any tie to fall with its smooth crease, his hand grasping hers. khushi was having a tough time keeping the mojris on her feet.

“lavanya!” he stopped in front of lavanya’s office for a second, “don’t forget to send the car for naho an hour earlier, she wants to go somewhere before coming to the airport!”

“don’t worry, asr… i won’t forget!” lavanya said, giving khushi a big grin. before khushi could say anything though, asr had started walking off again, her trailing behind him.

***

“here! what are we doing here, arnav ji?” khushi was mystified.

“we’ve come to eat golgappa!” asr said curtly, unfastening her seat belt and getting out of his suv. he was going around the car to her side, when khushi opened the door and jumped out…

“yeh aap kya kah rahe hai! golgappe!” she almost shrieked.
(what are you saying! golgappa!)

“shut up, khushi! i have no time today… now shall we go!” asr came toward her as she backed away. something made her want to run. her jhola bag hit a hard object… it was the bonnet of the car. khushi stopped, she couldn’t go back any farther, he was approaching still, closing the distance between them. her eyes had a trace of fear, her breathing had become rapid, asymmetrical.

a strange look passed over asr’s face. all the muscles seemed to relax. he stopped in front of her and bent down slowly, his eyes had a softness in them she noticed… his lips were on hers and he was kissing her slowly. his hands caressed her sides, then held her hips and pulled her close, his tongue nudged against her teeth. khushi wished her knees were made of something solid, like that car’s bonnet maybe. arnav ji… she let her hands slide around his hips and opened her mouth, her eyelids felt heavy. a lick of fire came out of nowhere and and made the soles of her feet go searing hot. a mojri slipped off.


***

light played on the red. the red was deep almost scarlet. around it glittered facets in a dark shade... like night.
 
khushi stared speechless at what lay before her. she couldn’t speak. arnav ji’s hand in hers felt reassuring, maybe she could breathe, nothing would happen.

the necklace was about an inch wide, it was set with oval shaped rubies and black diamonds in rose gold. the rubies sparkled right across it, whimsical touches of black diamonds here and there, a sheen of gold in between. but everything was really in those red stones… the rubies. they were magnificent. bharathi prakash had just taken the necklace out of its case and laid it on a bed of white satin.

“asr, i hope you like it… i got as many burmese rubies as i could get on such short notice. six months is just not enough time as you know. all the stones are natural… untreated. otherwise, it just doesn’t have the look… that… that preciousness. khushi my dear, it will look stunning on you… and with your ring!” bharathi had beamed and spoken all the while as she’d gone about arranging things and getting the necklace out. khushi sat there looking more and more bemused.

arnav ji had brought her here once, which is why she had been so surprised when they had stopped in front of the beautiful house. then he said all that about golgappe! rakshas, magarmach... she could feel a smile though as the thoughts flitted across.

he had bought her her dark red ruby ring, her engagement ring, from this jewellery shop that didn’t look like a shop at all. khushi remembered that day suddenly, how she had hated him… yes, really! how he’d said he liked the ring… then he’d slipped it onto her finger. later in the car going back… “bas, khushi!” khushi stopped her thoughts instantly. her cheeks began to flame. she felt arnav ji’s grip on her hand grow tighter. she turned and looked at him, her expression tremulous.

(enough, khushi!)

his jawline was what she saw first. it was hard, angular, unyielding. the stubble across his cheek, his chin, up to his high cheek bones was perfectly even. her eyes moved farther up, he glanced at her just then, a brilliant heat in his eyes. she breathed in sharply.

he had ordered this six months ago? for her?

there must be some mistake. why would arnav ji…

“like it?” she heard him ask in a curt, specific way.

she nodded, then she struggled to find her voice.

“kisske liye?” she asked in a whisper. bharathi ji was surely mistaken, this must be for…

(it’s for whom?)

“mere liye,” asr deadpanned and picked up the necklace. bharathi walked away, khushi wondered why. and would arnav ji now wear the necklace!

(for me.)

she stared at him, eyes beginning to say too many things. asr stood up. khushi breathed in deeply… there must be some mistake.

something cold touched khushi’s neck. she shivered. she felt the necklace settle against her skin, it seemed so sure of itself, knowing exactly where to sit. arnav ji’s fingers were at the back of her neck, he was fixing the clasp. a tear reached her eyelid from where exactly she didn’t know. then it fell down her cheek.

her jwalamukhi. her arnav ji…

“here, khushi, take a look,” bharathi had just placed a mirror before her on the cabinet top.

she lifted her eyelids and there she was in the mirror, the skein of red glowing around her neck… her tears refracted the light rays, the shimmer of stones merged and become a continuous flow. of red… blood… she looked straight into arnav ji’s eyes. he was looking at her in the mirror.

he gave a funny tight smile. she saw his hand lift, brown long steady fingers… his index finger brushed away her tears.
“bharathi… it’s just what i had in mind, ” he murmured, looking at the older lady. she was elegant in a pair of loose white slacks and a dove grey silk shirt today, her hair was cut short now and perfectly blow dried.

bharathi smiled, pleased, it was always good to know what the customer really wanted… she had spent almost thirty five years in the business figuring that out.

“asr, i had a feeling, you might want these as well… so i…” bharathi held out a little box. inside lay two earrings. each had a square ruby around which were sprinkled tiny black diamonds, a small fall of diamonds dangled from each one.
asr frowned and perused them, he said nothing. khushi saw little crow’s feet appear at the corner of his eyes.

“thanks, bharathi… great touch!” he shot a smile at her. 

bharathi motioned to a young assistant to pack the jewellery.
khushi watched the proceedings, still unable to say anything.
she reached back to take off her necklace. her necklace… she felt her heart leap. this was hers.

hands which were slightly calloused, rough in places, stopped her fingers.

she looked at him in the mirror again. he was standing right behind her. she could see the length of his neck from this angle, he swallowed… then he said, “don’t take it off!”
her eyes widened… he was walking away already.

***

khushi licked her lips, a little breathless. they were driving back.

“arnav ji!” khushi started…

“hmm? ” he sounded completely absent minded.

khushi had wanted to thank him, but suddenly it all got to her. nine sharp… golgappa… for me… really! and how dare he buy her such an expensive thing without even saying anything to her… who did he think he was…

“arnav singh raizada!” he was looking straight ahead as he brusquely said the words.

“huh!” khushi looked at him, puzzled.

“you just asked, who does this laad governor think he is!” he countered evenly. the car slowed down, then stopped.

asr unfastened his seat belt and turned toward khushi.

“aap kaise hume…” khushi blurted rounding on him, her agitation growing.

(how can you…)

his hand went up and touched her cheek. the gentlest stroke followed. khushi felt tears rush to her eyes again.

“shh!” his breath was on her cheek, then his lips… “don’t cry… i… can’t bear to see you cry…” he pulled her toward him. he would always remember her eyes filled with tears, dark and accusing and scared… that very first time he saw her.

she felt her hand go of its own volition to his cheek and her fingers wanting to be grazed by that stubble of his. their bodies began to intertwine almost involuntarily. neither noticed they were right on humayun road, surrounded by fairly heavy traffic. it was eleven in the morning.

he nuzzled her neck, kissing her behind her left ear. she heard him moan softly. she drew him against her, forgetting her indignation.

he suddenly sat up straight and started the engine.

she knew his day was packed, they were flying to lucknow at four o’clock. the show was to start at eight. she didn’t say anything. she touched her necklace with unsteady fingers and kept quiet for a change.

though not for long.

“what! where are you going, arnav ji!” she yelled as asr swung sharply to the right and drove into the gates of the taj mansingh.

he didn’t bother to reply. instead he braked as he came up to the porch, got out, flung the keys at the waiting valet and holding khushi’s hand raced up the stairs two at a time, to the reception.

***

khushi glanced around the room. it was a suite actually, they were in the sitting room with its deep sofas covered in pale salmon velvet and chairs with ornate backs and finishes in burnt gold. she remembered he had brought her to a room like this once… that afternoon… she smiled and stepped inside. but today he had so much work…

she turned to tell him that but he just picked her up in his arms and started walking toward the bedroom. khushi stared, there was a look on his face.

he lowered her onto the bed and threw off his jacket. soon his waist coat was on the couch by the large bed, then his tie… swift movement of precise long fingers and his shirt was off. khushi gasped.

arnav singh raizada unbuckled his belt and pulled it out, throwing it carelessly on the table by the couch, then he went to her and pulled her up holding both her hands in one of his. without seeking permission or fumbling, he twisted her around, his hands came up and caught hold of her breasts, cupping them, squeezing slightly. he bent and bit her neck lightly before kissing her… lingering there, his lips caressing the crook of her neck.

she could feel the heat emanating from his skin right behind her. he fell back on the bed with her on top of him… she lay there on her back. his hands moved over her stomach, her abdomen, farther down. she caught them as they reached her thigh. she realised her whole body was shaking now, she began to draw his hands to where she wanted him to touch her. she was drowning, she couldn’t think straight, her body was arching, she wanted to…

“make love to me, khushi!” asr said, saying out loud the words that were about to form in her heart.

it had all happened so quickly. she had no idea why they were here… but at this moment, it really didn’t matter.

she rolled off him and started to open the buttons of her kurta at the back. he lay their leaning on his elbow, an indulgent smile sending his mouth on a steep irresistible climb on one side, the left side… khushi reached and touched his lips. his grin widened, he cocked an eyebrow.

he was opening the dori of her kurta and he was tugging it gently, taking it off… her churidar was gone next and he had caught her back in his arms. he pulled off the covers from the bed and tumbled onto the white sheets with her in his arms. the hair on his chest was damp.

her hands went to the waist band of his trousers. she felt him shift, she heard him groan. when she reached up to take off her necklace, he stopped her again. he didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to play, he just wanted to feel her skin on his, he wanted to feel her body quickening against his, thrusting, writhing… he wanted to feel her hunger for him.

she was on top of him now, her eyes slightly glazed, her body moving in a hypnotic rhythm. her hair had opened out, it fell all around her, silken auburn tresses. he could see the rubies against her pale firm skin. she moved losing her balance once in a way, falling forward… he held her in his arms… they kissed, he bit her lips, he felt her every response to his little touches.

the pristine white sheets got crumpled, two of the large fluffy pillows found their way to the floor, husky whispers and ragged breath played in the silence of the room.

she tried not to scream. he told her no one would hear. just him. then he pulled her even closer and smiled.

when they woke up, they realised they must had slept off… it was one o clock already.

“red suits you,” he muttered and kissed her on her nipple, feather light soft kiss. she gave him a light whack and jumped out of bed.

“arnav ji!” she protested and ran to the bathroom. she didn’t see him lie back against the pillows and laugh.

***

a tall slim statuesque girl walked alone down the cat walk. warm golden fluid fabric flowed… she was wrapped in a sheath of pure mooga… nothing else. a bunch of red frangipanis dangled from each ear. her hair had been pulled right up to make a high top knot. she had no shoes on her feet, and no other ornaments.

the spotlights focused on her, the audience sat all around on chairs and sofas on the grounds of sheeshmahal. fairy lights hung from trees and over manicured bushes, there were cascades of lights on wires strung between branches of old trees. the walls were decorated with rows of incandescent bulbs. it was a full moon night. to ward off the heat, large fans blew air over curtains of khus soaked in water… their earthy fragrance mingled with the warm evening breeze.

the girl stood poised and still. she had appeared suddenly without any warning. people were caught unawares. they were still talking amongst themselves. slowly the noise died down.

there was silence.

she took a deep breath and flung out her arms. it took one a moment to realise she was throwing gold dust into the air. she smiled after she was done. then she said three words distinctly, “i am gold.”

the light on her went out, another spotlight picked up a lone figure in black at the back on the stage. it was arnav singh raizada.

“ladies and gentleman!” he said coolly walking down a few steps to the ramp, “welcome to ‘i am gold’, our celebration of mooga! i hope you enjoy the evening!”

he went up to the girl standing by herself and offered her his arm, she put her hand on his elbow. the two of them turned and walked back as the show started and the opening sequence with models in fine, swirling, almost chiffon light mooga began.

khushi sat in the front row in her mooga sari. arnav ji had given it to her soon after they managed to get the texture he was wanting to create. there was no work on it, no embellishment, only a fine row of tassels at edge of the pallu. the blouse was made of mooga too, but in another shade of gold, not its natural colour, a cluster of dark red pompoms hung from the short sleeves. she had left her hair open. he had put on the necklace for her after she was done and given her an appraising look when she had added on the earrings.
“hmm… not bad!” he had nodded, then lifted her left hand and given a curious smile as he caught sight of the ring she always wore.

“naho ji,” khushi turned to the petite japanese woman sitting next to her on the sofa, “i just wanted to say thank you… bahut bahut thank you…”

(many many thanks…)

naho ogawa, the daughter of shima’s owner, and major shareholder at the company, had called a week after they had returned to delhi. she had assured asr they would find a way to get the mooga deal back on track. her husband had tried to call it off and managed to convince her father, but naho was quite certain she would get her father to change his mind.

khushi knew arnav ji would go ahead with the project even otherwise, but there was a different fun and creative surge to it all when you knew you a demanding and different audience was waiting to see your work, wear it, feel it, taste it. like helena ji. oh how pleased she had been that helena ji had liked her jalebis… she had wanted to experiment and make something that suited her friend… or like when she had made jalebi for arnav ji without sugar.

when she had told arnav ji that, he had shaken his head, his eyes had narrowed and he’d said, “did you just compare the eclectic, fashion conscious japanese woman to an elephant, khushi?!”

when she had nodded sheepishly, understanding yes, she had done precisely that, he had again shaken his head and said, “unbelievable!”

a moment later it had struck him, “and you compared me to helena…! khushi,… but wait… this wouldn’t be the first time, would it, so why complain!” he had stalked off.

“khushi san, there is no need to thank me…” naho had a low pretty voice, there was a little trill in her way of speaking, “i am happy to be doing this project… also going to assam was very instructive, have you been to assam, khushi san?”

khushi beamed and replied, “yes, naho ji… i love assam too!”
she hadn’t been able to go with arnav ji again, the baby came suddenly and then anyway, you can’t keep going away like that all the time.

the show drew gasps and applause from the rapt audience. an entire collection in a single material was something most design houses would balk at presenting. and for the bridal series which were considered a must, who could avoid organza and silk and velvet.

the bridal entourage appeared in swathes of mooga in different weaves, textures and colours. then came a bride in a golden gown, a bride in a gold and red saree, a bride in a short shift dress… a bride in a mekhala chadar of blood red mooga, carrying a pale gold stole… a bride walked slowly in her swirling lehenga, fine bead work all over.

the viewers were floored… there was a roar of approval as the last sequence ended.

kareena came running from somewhere and hugged khushi, “did you like my short shift wedding dress!! isn’t it lovely! the flowers in her hair and the lightest of strappy sandals… you know i love working for asr…” one more tight hug and kareena had disappeared.

salman was in his usual jeans and tee shirt, “i think kanumoni and helena are missing you!” he laughed, “anyway, mother is in delhi next week… watch out, golf talk will start again!”

khushi tried to smile. she hated lying but really there was no way she was going to learn that laad governor’s game.

asr walked up to them, the tall statuesque model on his arm. it was tsering.

khushi knew there was nothing between them, this was all work… but still.

naho beamed at them and went forward, shaking his hand, congratulating him. khushi could tell the japanese woman was not immune to her husband’s good looks. she could make out very clearly, in fact.

and what about arnav ji… he was smiling so much at the two of them. khadoos. most of the time he was frowning at her or calling her unbelievable… or snarling at her or or or… khushi’s cheeks started to go hot.

***

they were standing outside their room in the balcony of sheeshmahal. the stars were in full array up in the inky sky. khushi leaned against the railing gazing up, breathing in the scent of jasmine.

his eyes were on her, a thoughtfulness about him. he had never imagined he would feel the things he felt for this strange girl with her off centre plait and mercurial mind. he never ever meant to feel this way, dammit. it bothered him sometimes even now. and yet he knew he really had no choice.

he remembered how out of sorts and disoriented his life had felt after that first meeting of theirs. it all made no sense. and that made him uncomfortable.

but maybe comfortable was overrated, dammit. and even sense.

he put his arms around her from behind and laid his cheek on her head.

“talking to your parents?” he whispered.

“hmmmm…” she leaned back against him.

“like your necklace?” he asked gently, he had no idea why, but he had wanted to give her a necklace of rubies. red suited her, he could almost see her with the stones gleaming on her neck… and he just wanted her to remember this year for some reason. he had also wanted her to wear it tonight. the silly girl said “moonga”, he laughed a little.

“hmmm… why are you laughing?” khushi said.

“you were jealous…” asr asserted.

her back stiffened.

“you know, tsering is…” asr started to reason with her.

“hume pata hai tsering ji kaun aur kya hain!” khushi snapped.

(i know who and what is tsering!)

he tightened his arms around her.

“missing helena?” he asked, she thought he was changing the subject.

khushi sighed… she had been missing helena ji, kanumoni ji, the tea gardens… everything. she had been longing to go back with arnav ji when he went on all those work trips… just that how could she ask, she had to be at home, look after everything, amma had never gone anywhere…

“shall we go to assam tomorrow morning?” he asked almost casually.

she shrieked and tried to turn in his arms, he didn’t loosen his hold.

“assam? haan… par dilli?” she mumbled.

(assam? yes… but delhi?)

“dilli won’t run away…” asr said with a smile beginning at the corner of his eyes.

khushi struggled and turned in his arms then and gave him a full big hug. up in the sky a cluster of stars twinkled, somewhere far away a shooting star was streaking across the sky… in little inexplicable things, in things that don’t make sense, things that are even uncomfortable maybe, sometimes forever lives.

just completed "ncofl... never on a new year". funny feeling, no more wondering over when i'll be able to "update" next. no more talking to myself about asr and khushi and what they might or might not be feeling or doing. fanfiction is something i knew nothing about, then i didn't want to know about, then i had to know. as i made the final edits for this story, knowing i really have no idea when i will write about these two people again, i felt a certain sadness... as you write about characters, if you write about them, and for a longish period of time, they really become people and a part of you. thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed this story.

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