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


 

 

not cut out for love: chapter 41

the night was still, a quiet darknesss all around. the dogs hadn't yet started howling as they often did around this time.

khushi had no idea what the time was as she sat shivering on the floor, staring at the benignly smiling face of devi maiyya. her mind was in a blur, her gaze was blank, every once in a while her eyes welled up with unstoppable tears and she swallowed hard to hold them back, not let any tear escape. the warmth of a tear might end everything.

she wouldn't be able to do what she must. she had no choice, there was no other way, she looked ahead with vacant eyes.

ar...na..

she stopped her heart, no she wouldn't think of him.

no.

her body jerked involuntarily and she gripped her knees tight as if seeking something. khushi closed her eyes trying to fill her head and heart with the night... no thought should escape into it... hey devi maiyya raksha karna.

***

what was that?

a draught of wind seemed to have rushed in through the open window in the still of the night. khushi looked around sensing something, an uncanny feeling sweeping through her.

why was her heart beginning to beat so fast?

why did she feel a weight begin to lift?

was she going mad?

the knock was sharp, loud and extremely peremptory.

it shattered the silence and commanded instant attention.

khushi's eyes widened, she stood... no jumped to her feet and looked around wildly. who was that? and at this time of the night? her breath pelted as she clutched her heart with a shaking hand. 

you know who it is, don't you? something in her said. she closed her eyes again, shutting out everything.

no... no no no. she would not think such things, she would not...

this time the knock was louder, sharper and scarier. soon after came the words she'd dreaded...

she had longed for...

"open the door, khushi, dammit!"

arnav singh raizada sounded furious and in no mood to tolerate delay or denial.

khushi held the post of the bed firmly, her feet had already begun to fly toward the door, but she was determined to stay where she was.

"khushi! i know you're inside, so stop this game... do you hear me!!! open the door otherwise i'll break it!" he threatened.

khushi heard a resounding bang soon after... he'd meant that thing about breaking the door!

khushi's feet made the decision this time, she ran and opened the door.

***

his eyes were bloodshot, his face was set and dark and extraordinarily still. he stood before her, tense, absolutely motionless, a pulse leaped at the end of his left jaw close to the ear.

khushi almost jumped back at the blast of heat that hit her, her heartbeat rose to a deafening crescendo.

the moments ticked by.

and suddenly harsh fingers were gripping her shoulders, pushing her back into the room, red rimmed incensed eyes were looking at her as if they didn't care if they scorched her, as if they wanted to do just that, a rush of searing breath was falling on her face, her neck.

a dry hot feeling that had appeared from nowhere and sat behind khushi's eyes ever since that phone call...began to cool off, ease all of a sudden.

khushi breathed in deeply looking up at the angry face looming over hers.

***

he stared at her unable to say anything, his whole being shaking with exactly what he wasn't sure. he didn't care... a bleak bottomless anger mingled with a fluid current of unnameable feelings. he gritted his teeth and began shaking her violently. mercilessly.

her eyes widened, shocked. her slender slight form couldn't deter that relentless force... she stared at him speechlessly, helpless... the tears came soon, this time she couldn't stop them.

even in his frenzied, fractured state, even in the darkness, he could see a plump shimmering tear spring up in her eye, balance for a moment on the edge of her eyelid and then plunge down, streaming rapidly down the curve of her cheek, its speed picking up as she was jerked back and forth by his punishing hands.

with a muffled cry he pushed her away. 

khushi fell against the dining table nearby. her hands gripped the edge as tears continued to fall.

"how could you?!!" asr whispered raggedly. he was trembling all over still unable to control himself.

"how COULD you?!!! do you even know what you've put me through??? do you even give a DAMN!!!" there was something broken and bereft behind the anger that was obviously there... khushi closed her eyes in agony.

she turned around slowly and looked at him, she badly needed to see him... even though she would never ever go near him again. her hand reached out automatically and touched a switch.

warm mellow light flooded the small sitting room in gomti sadan in the older part of lucknow.

***

he could only hear his breath as the plane taxied and lifted off.

where are you, his mind was screaming. his hands felt empty, a numbing worry occupied the back of his neck, his ears strained to hear a whisper of her voice, he could feel a soft curled frangipani by his neck, only that it wasn't there.

he had walked out of bua ji's house, winded, but his mind had refused to stop working.

where was khushi... he had to find her. she could be in danger. he couldn't let anything happen to her. he'd gotten into the suv and sat for a moment trying to compose himself... what was this pain ripping his mind, almost gutting him.

"get a hold of yourself, man," he thought... he needed to be calm... now more than ever. and as happened with him in times of crisis, a calm did steal over him as he sat there willing it to come... arnav singh raizada moved into autopilot. 

he would have to visit anjna jha once more... this time at the lock up where she was right now. she had admitted earlier that she was indeed her "husband's" accomplice, she had designed the nursery, she and shyam were planning to grab anjali's property and, yes, she had made that phone call to khushi. she was defiant, brash and utterly cold. she was shyam's "italian" "wife". he had duped her as well, but she had managed to catch onto his game and when she had, instead of being horrified, she'd been excited. there was a thrill in this. 

for the past five years she'd helped shyam find women, marry them and slowly drain them of their resources.

he would have to speak to her again, he had a feeling she had contacted khushi. but when? could it be this morning? of course! last night khushi was fine, she was... he exhaled slowly and let the vision of loveliness that flitted across his mind go. 

he was about to start the car when happy ji came by. spotting asr and completely unaware of what had transpired, happy ji smiled widely and said, "namaste, arnav ji!"

asr looked at the beaming man, he remembered meeting him the first time he'd come to lakshminagar... with khushi... that evening almost two months ago...

"namaste, happy ji, have you seen khushi?" asr asked without preamble. for some reason, he knew he had to ask this of the tiny little elf like man with an amiable face.

"oh... khushi ji... yes... but that was a long time ago... woh auto le rahi thi..." happy ji replied, his smile still in place.

(... she was taking an auto rickshaw...)

asr's syes sparkled, "auto? where was she going?"

happy ji's smile slipped a little, he looked puzzled...

"woh toh..." he scratched his head, "humein nahin pata..." 

(that... i don't know...)

asr felt his stomach hollow out.

then suddenly happy singh brightened, "yes! i remember, khushi ji was telling the driver, 'nahin nahin, old dilli nahin, new dilli...' arnav ji, i think she went to the station... maybe to pick up someone coming for the wedding??" he added helpfully.

(no no, not old delhi, new delhi.)

asr swore under his breath and started reversing the car swiftly, hooking his blue tooth onto his ear.

the plane had started descent. lucknow airport closed at eleven... they had just made it in the nick of time. captain raina was happy this last minute flight had gone smoothly, the boss had not looked prepared to take no for an answer from anyone tonight... 

asr ran across the tarmac not waiting for the vehicle assigned to pick him up... the suv was waiting for him at the entrance, he collected the key from the driver and leapt into the car...

she had to be here... at her home in gomti sadan... she had to be...

he accelerated and looked into the darkness.

"khushi!"

his heartbeat moved faster still, no speed limit there... no limit.

***

she stared at him, her heart breaking. he looked drawn, tense, haggard. his eyes... khushi swallowed almost feeling the pain in his eyes right there in the centre of her throat.

he was livid... he was broken.

khushi couldn't bear to see this.

"is this what you mean by love? by commitment? by your huge big lectures on marriage...?" his accusing gaze lashed into her, his voice was a hoarse whisper.

as if unable to control anything any more... not even his own self, he went on, "forget me... yeah... you don't love me, dammit!... right???... hah! how could i forget that!!... so forget me... but what about your parents...bua ji... payal... what about THEM, KHUSHI! WHAT!" his voice scaled a barrier somewhere and exploded.

khushi started and cringed. 

and the next moment she was crying copiously and running to him, flinging her arms around him and snuggling as deep as she could into his wide hard chest, her ears seeking instinctively and settling on the spot where his heart beat its erratic asunder beat.

"arnav ji! don't look like that... please, hum aap ko aise dekh nahin sakte..." she sobbed as she spoke.

(arnav ji! don't look like that... please, i can't see you like this...)

his arms had not gone around her, she noted, they hung rigid by his side. his head had not come down to rest on her chin as it usually did. he had simply remained there, aloof, angry, unreachable.

tears wet the front of his dark brown waistcoat. they soaked through and touched his skin.

he flinched.

"i couldn't do anything else... she said... she said... arnav ji..." khushi couldn't complete her sentence, she clutched him tighter and let the tears flow. she hadn't felt a moment of peace from the time she had picked up the phone that morning.

her mind was frazzled, tired, torn... her heart had lost hope... she could not see light anywhere, even her stars seemed too far away. 

now arnav ji wouldn't hear her, wouldn't hold her.

she felt his chest move against her cheek. he exhaled slowly, his breath touching her forehead.

"khushi!" he said her name, the "kh" touched the back of his throat and opened out, in it a longing from within. his arms came up and went around her waist, his hand reaching up her back, stroking, drawing her in, his head came down seeking its place in the crook of her neck, his cheek felt the silky touch of her hair even as his stubble grazed her tender skin.

she felt as though her world had returned to her... there was firm earth, there were stars, there was hope... always. hamesha.

they stood together like that for a few minutes. eternity sows thoughts of its very existence in certain spaces in time. arnav singh raizada and khushi kumari gupta had chanced upon such a space in the middle of the night in a small unpretentious, sparsely furnished sitting room situated in a quiet timeless spot on this earth.

he lifted her up in his arms and felt her settle against him. elation lifted the corners of his lips... she watched mesmerised. this is all she ever wanted to see, she thought. she reached up and stroked his cheek... he hadn't shaved it was obvious... she knew why... worrying for her... going mad perhaps with that worry.

he looked at her and winked... "kissi aur se pyaar karti ho? hmmm?" he asked in a quizzical voice, obviously amused... and yet she felt his vulnerability at the moment he must have read her note.

(love someone else? hmm?)

her lips quivered.

"hey! enough... no more tears, okay?" he said sitting down on sofa with her on his lap.

"arnav ji, that ciao darling woman called me this morning... she said, if i married you... if i don't disappear today itself, she would... hurt di... her baby," khushi wanted to tell him everything... needed to. "and when i... i said.. you wouldn't let her... she said, for that to happen, you'd have to be alive!"

khushi flung her arms around asr and started sobbing again, "hum nahin sah sakte... aap ko kuchh ho jaaye... hum jee nahin paayenge aap ke bina..."

(i can't bear it... if something should happen to you... i won't be able to live without you...)

"uh huh! kya main jee paaoonga tumhare bina, khushi?" he murmured hugging her close, kissing her cheeks with utter concentration. warm soft tender kisses that gave as much as they asked for, that said so many things... "socha bhi kaise aisa..."

(uh huh! will i be able to stay alive without you, khushi? how could you even think that?)

"socha nahin, arnav ji," khushi whimpered, "i couldn't feel, i couldn't think, i couldn't..." she faltered overwhelmed.

(i didn't think...)

"shh... later... sweetheart... relax, come rest on me..." asr crooned to the girl without whom he couldn't live. and being a fairly matter of fact man, he knew this was no exaggeration, this was how it was. perhaps this was even love.

"no, arnav ji, i really couldn't think... amma babu ji bua ji jiji, everything went blank, i thought of nothing, no one... just that i couldn't... couldn't let them harm you... arnav ji..." she began sobbing,  "babu ji... amma.. i must call them... they must be..."

"khushi! it's okay... i spoke to them before coming... but yes, we'll call them and tell them now. but first, you come here," he said kissing her on her lips at last. 

her mouth thrust closer against his lips, her teeth nipped his lower lip and she drew away, she wanted to kiss his lips along its entire line, right from where it started at one end, across its length, lingering over his cupid's bow, right onto the other side, where his lips had that little dragged down dip. 

he turned and lay down with her, kissing her hungrily. his hand pushed up under her kurta and felt the skin of her belly. he felt a peace begin to settle. she was here. with him...

"so you thought i wouldn't let any harm come to di? hmm? but you didn't come to me with the problem?  next time, don't do that, promise me? i know she called you, i know she can be very convincing... tum theek ho, khushi?" he asked softly kissing her along the length of her neck.

(are you alright, khushi?)

khushi couldn't think straight, the heady sensation of his skin against hers made her crave, and lose all thought.

yet she almost jumped up, "aap ko pata hai? kaise? how do you know about her call?"

(you know? how? how do you know about her call?)

"we got her this afternoon, khushi... unfortunately she'd already got through to you by then..." he replied pulling her back and rolling over till she was under him and he lay right over her, his every contour flush against hers. khushi blushed. then put her arms around his waist, pulling him to her,

"poor ciao darling, she had no idea whom she was taking on, did she... arnav singh raizada... humaare pyaare magarmach, laad governor, rakshas..." she lifted her head up and kissed his tired eyes... "jwalamukhi..."

(my beloved crocodile, lord governor, monster... volcano.)

he hadn't slept in nearly forty eight hours and yet he suddenly felt bright and alive.

he knew he had to do only one thing before he did something about that feeling.

he reached for his phone to let the guptas know khushi was alright. in his arms and giggling already.

index

chapter 42


 

without you: chapter 28

twas like a maelstrom, with a notch,
that nearer, every day,
kept narrowing its boiling wheel
until the agony

toyed coolly with the final inch
of your delirious hem
and you dropt, lost,
when something broke
and let you from a dream

~~~ emily dickinson ~~~

pain wracked the air. it stretched, it pulled, it mauled and scratched. it wanted to gouge out something. two people lay helpless in its violent rout of all things beautiful and sacred, of all innocence. khushi's mother was the woman who was there that night, the night it happened, she was the woman asr's mother had seen and lost all control. asr's own uncle had pulled khushi's mother into a filthy game and finally killed her and khushi's father. asr's mother had not committed suicide... she had been murdered in cold blood by a man waiting patiently at the window.

a chill had come into the air, dawn was about to break, the gomti flowed peacefully not too far away. everything was silent still, the sounds of early hours were yet to start.

in the hotel room there was a silence of another sort, one which feared the night may never end. khushi lay on one side of the wide double bed, looking up at the ceiling with its ornate curlicues and decorations. on the other side, sat asr, quietly staring out of the window, the water of the river was just becoming visible as the first rays of light touched it.

there was no accident. there was no suicide. everything was a lie...

a sob dry, rough, and acrid shook khushi's frame as it burst through her wind pipe. amma and babu ji had not died in an accident. her heart felt dead. amma was the other woman in arnav ji's father's life. no matter how much one said she was trapped by a terrible man, but it was she standing there in sheesh mahal that night.

khushi wished devi maiyya would come and tell her not to worry, this was not true. but it was. this was the truth. her whole life she had believed in a lie. another sob raced after the first one. they killed her parents?!!! just like that? in cold blood? how could they? oh amma, amma... babu ji. her eyes stared up and not a single star could she see. not in her mind, not in her memory...

khushi turned to her side and clutched herself tight. where did one go from here. why was her mind going numb and then coming back with blinding pain.

it had been almost an hour since they'd checked into the hotel. di, akash ji, and doctor saab had gone to their rooms. no one was in a state to talk.

***

"chhoriye humey... leave me... who do you think you are?!!.. let me go... i don't want you to... what difference does it make to you whether i hurt or not whether i live or..."

"shut up, khushi!!" he ground out through gritted teeth, pulling her close, holding her arm tight. blood was gushing out of a cut on her index finger. "mujhe dekhne do!" his voice was harsh.

(let me see.)

they were standing in the kitchen. it was a week since the night he had given her no choice and held her hand in a vice like grip pulling her after him up the temple steps.

she had had to marry him, otherwise he had promised to wreck jiji and akash ji's wedding. he had not told her why he was doing this. he had not cared she looked stricken, brutalized. he had not met her eyes when she had looked at him again and again imploring him silently to think, to talk to her, to give some reason, just one, no matter how bad or terrible or even wrong, as to why he was doing this.

he had simply married her with no explanations and told her he hated her. he had thrown her out of the room and let her sleep on the cold stone floor by the pool.

so why, oh why was he so concerned that she had cut her finger? she tried to snatch her hand away again.

"khushi!" he looked at her, his eyes burning with unnamed things, she could only see nafrat, hatred.

she clenched her teeth and hoped her eyes had only hatred in them too.

he swallowed as he watched the blood flowing out in a steady red stream. the cut was deep, he walked with her to the sink and turned on the tap, holding her hand under the water. khushi winced as the jet hit the cut.

she shut her eyes and her brow puckered, tears were beginning to glint between tightly squeezed eyelids. he watched her intently and let the water flow over the cut, washing away the blood, the cold temperature soothing and possibly slowing the flow a bit.

his thumb touched her tear and wiped it away because he simply had to do that. the moist warm drop against his calloused skin touched a nerve. he swallowed hard again. she had gone still. he could feel her let go of all resistance, just stand there mutely and let whatever came, come.

she looked frail and pale and so defenceless, a slight young girl of not even twenty. he felt a choking sensation in his chest. his jaw hardened and his eyes glinted with some emotion. then he bent down and picked her up in his arms and walked out of the kitchen toward their room.

she was too tired to protest, too pummeled by all that had happened in these seven short days. was it only seven days?

it felt like a lifetime.

what was going on? why this hurt? this crazy madness? she would fight it. yes, she would, she was not scared. but right now, she was too tired. and why had he looked her like that just now, what was in his eyes?

as he took long sure strides across the hall and up the stairs, she lay still in his arms. she felt nothing, but she could hear his heartbeats. there was only that one sound she could hear. she pressed her ear to his chest and let the sound, steady and deep and dense, flow into her. it felt real and true. as though that was all there was in this universe.

he left her on the bed for a few minutes. then he returned and started wiping her cut with cotton wool and antiseptic. she didn't bother to open her eyes, the antiseptic stung a bit, she grimaced. he looked at her face as he wound the bandage around her finger. gradually the lines disappeared from her brow, her face seemed to relax. the medicine had started to soothe and the bandage had arrested the bleeding.

he didn't ask himself why he cared. why this mattered. he didn't want to know why he felt better knowing she was alright.

why it hurt him to see her in pain.

he held her shoulder and gently helped her lie down. she stayed prone, eyes still shut. he covered her with a light blanket. then he went to the french windows, drew the curtains and turned to leave the room.

on an impulse though he found himself walking back and tucking with his thumb and forefinger the little errant lock of hers that always escaped and fell on her forehead ... he couldn't resist stroking her soft alabaster cheek, or feeling an odd excitement as his finger touched the outer ridge of her ear lobe and slid over it then got lost in her thick dark auburn hair.

just a couple of moments... yet it felt as though life flowed back into his limbs. he got up and walked out of the room.

she wondered why he hated her so much. she wondered if she hated him enough.

a teardrop found its way out and slid down from the corner of her eye all the way to her ear, just where she had felt the slightly rough skin of his forefinger and thumb stroke and play with her hair. wanting her as much as she wanted him. 

this was the first time he had made her lie down on the bed in their room after their marriage... once a long time ago she had lain there with him... the thought struck him as he made his way down the steps. the first time since that night. she looked so lovely lying there. why? why did she look so innocent? his jaws tautened and he walked out of the house. he would work late tonight. he dreaded the thought of that empty bed when he got back.

***

asr stared out of the window. it must be almost six in the morning he thought. maybe he should call aman and see if the london project was going the right way. he needed to see the numbers.

he didn't want to think about things. hear all that he had heard. know all that he must know and acknowledge. he didn't want to know that a man had waited to take her life. he could see them practically before him even now, arguing, his mother and his father, their voices tense and urgent. she had seen him with a woman, but he said she meant nothing to him, then there was sound as though two people struggled and wrestled, short bursts of breath, misshapen, halting words... what were they saying. an absurd thought had raced through his head, were chacha ji and pita ji shooting stool pigeons as they often did?

yeah, chacha ji was shooting... stool pigeons.

maa, you didn't kill yourself... he could feel his heart pound and a deafening beat in his ears. what was that getting ripped out from inside him? it felt torn and shredded and endless, it grazed and rubbed and burned every part as it moved with erratic unnerving force.

he had never ever been able to touch that truth which was presented to him by everyone that day. maa had shot a bullet into her head when she found out pita ji had a woman, a lover, in his life. another woman. woh aurat.

but no, that is not what chacha ji said had happened.

the leering face of his uncle seemed to mock him, his reedy filthy ugly voice, thick with layers and layers of insinuation and innuendo.

khushi's mother... she was the other woman? but dadi had accused khushi's amma, garima... and aunty had agreed she was the one.
bhoolbhulaiya, it was all a maze perhaps, a fanatically well crafted maze that one could, one had to, enter but never leave.

... where was the truth? was there any truth even? bhoolbhulaiya. he remembered meeting her there one morning. she was eating chana. her scooter had bumped into the back of his suv. there was chana on his car. she always found a way to get in, touch him. but now? 

chacha ji had killed her mother and her father.

how would he ever face her again. a small eight year old girl with big hazel eyes, he was her culprit. his family had wiped out hers.

his father. at the thought of this man who had broken all sense of trust he ever had, asr shuddered. there never was just one woman, it was a whole string of them...

and because she had gotten away, chacha ji wanted to teach khushi's mother a lesson?

and chacha ji. so full of hate. why?

his head and heart moved jerkily through the details, trying to find control, ride the chaos and exert his power over it. to find the himmat, the courage he had summoned more than fourteen years ago, after a long long night. 

sunlight began to stream in through the window. he got up, closed the curtains, came back to the bed and lay down on his back. inside him an inertness began to creep up and close around his heart. he shut his eyes.
a few feet between the two of them lay, bereft.

***

asr had just walked into shantivan, back in the middle of the of the day to collect a file he'd forgotten. the moment he walked in he felt it. something was different, a note of the unusual in the air.

was she here?

what the. he checked his thought. why was he even thinking of that irritating girl, she was inconsequential. always talking back, in those ridiculous clothes, how dare she. his lips tightened. why was she here at all! did di have to bring her back into the house to train lavanya.

train lavanya.

why did lavanya even agree? women!

he shook his head and walked down the hallway, but the feeling persisted.
she was here somewhere. he looked around frowning darkly. he couldn't see her. he walked into the sitting area, where was she? his eyes fell on the long sofa at the far end of the room, his legs moved toward it, he cocked his head sensing something. he reached the sofa...

and she popped up from behind the it. huh! her eyes were large pools of worry and shock, light pink lips formed a circle, a guilty look spread across on her face. what's wrong with this girl, he thought.

"what are you doing there?" he asked brusquely, "are you hiding from me?" his scowl darkened.

at that a spell seemed to break. she smiled a dazzling smile at him and batted her eyelids, "nahin toh!" she trilled sweetly, "why should i hide from you? i was... " she made a little gesture with her head, smiling even wider, "i was only playing hide and seek, yes... yes, hide and seek!"

(nooo! why should i hide from you?)

"huh!" he was taken aback... she was playing hide and seek? in the middle of the day? in his drawing room? what was wrong with her! was she insane!

"playing? don't lie... there's no one here... who were you playing with?" he questioned aggressively.

"with...? with?" she smiled again, then looking behind him, she pointed with a raised chin, "why... with om prakash ji, of course, hai na, om prakash ji?" her voice was light and persuasive. a little too bright.

(why... with om prakash ji, of course, isn't that right, om prakash ji?)

asr whipped around incredulously, op was standing behind him looking at khushi with a slightly befuddled air.

"pakad liya! jaaiye, chhupiye aap, om prakash ji... jaaiye na!!" khushi jumped between the two of them and smiled at op and spoke in a happy trill.

(caught me! go hide, om prakash ji, go hide please!!)

op had heard chhotey saab's voice and come out wondering why he was back and if he needed anything. he looked at khushi ji's face and thought... hide?!!

"khushi ji" he said, scratching his ear apologetically and with a helpless smile, all his lack of comprehension evident in the tone.

"achha theek hai, not to worry, i don't mind... you serve your chhotey saab, we'll play hide and seek later... ok?" khushi winked at op at this point, quite certain that laad governor who was standing to one side looking angry could not see.

op thought he'd faint.

asr was exasperated. he rasped, "whatever!" and skirted the two of them making his way upstairs.

"op, stop playing and get me a cup of coffee now... i don't pay people to play. di!... di..."  the ire in his voice was palpable.

khushi sighed with relief. this laad governor, she thought and gritted her teeth. anjali ji had just returned from shopping and thrust a beautifully wrapped packet into her hand requesting her to leave it in her bedroom inside the cupboard while she rushed off to the shiv mandir, there was an offering to be made within a certain time, the auspicious lagna, and she was running late, very late.

it was chhotey's birthday present, she had said, seems it was the rakshas's birthday today. hoonh! anjali ji had said not to let him see the gift at any cost. it would spoil his mood, he didn't like celebrating his birthday... ha, why didn't that surprise her. khadoos, why would he smile and be happy... all the world's gussa who would look after then!

khushi was about to go to anjali ji's room when she heard the key turn in the lock. what if it was that laad governor! in fact, she knew it had to be him. he seemed to know exactly how to make her life difficult, appearing like a genie just where he was not needed.

khushi looked around wildly, where should she go?! where could she hide, there was no time to be wasted, he'd be walking in any second now. sofa! she ran and leapt behind it, thrusting the gift underneath. yes, it was safe there.

now he was looking at her as if she were strange. huh! khushi narrowed her eyes, tossed her head and went to retrieve the problematic package.

later in the day, she was hurrying out when anjali ji asked her to call chhotey to her room before leaving, khushi could see she was very tired, her leg must be troubling her, she had been out the whole day.

khushi went to asr's room but he was not there. she peered outside.
he was bent over his potted plants, working, completely absorbed. she was about to call out when she saw him stroke a plant with infinite gentleness... he looked at it from different angles, then chose a tiny clipper and very very delicately nipped a stem. he sprayed something on the plant, stood looking at it for a while, lips pursed, as if wondering if all was well. then he picked up the watering can and showered the leaves. his face was not tense, his jaws weren't clenched. he had rolled up the sleeve of his pale blue shirt, she could see the muscles and veins along his arms move as he worked, his fingers were mud covered but so precise and caring. loving was the word she didn't want to use.

she didn't realise that she was just standing there staring at him. almost gawking. she had forgotten why she was here. how could this man look so tender? surely not this man?

as if reading her thoughts, he lifted his head.

their eyes met across the distance. she still looked a bit dazed. his eyes were gentle, soft. she felt her palm tingle, her knee go a bit weak. this was not laad governor. maybe a twin... she would ask anjali ji. he watched her quietly. then suddenly he seemed to remember who she was and the fire started to come to his eyes.

no. not a twin.

"what is it?" he was curt.

"n...nothing... anjali ji is calling you..." she tried to sound feisty but couldn't. she began to turn away, then she couldn't stop herself, she turned back.

he was still there, that watering can in hand...

"aap na... aap bade ajeeb ho!" she blurted out. khushi, a part of her yelled, are you mad? but the deed was done.

(you... you're very strange!)

"main ajeeb hoon!" he sounded confounded for a moment.

then his left eyebrow rose in a sharp arch, his eyes glinted, he perused her at a leisurely pace. bright blue churidar kurta with pale yellow trimmings and print, the kurta most unfashionably short and edged with shiny gota, a gaggle of pompoms gushing below puff sleeves accosting his sense of sophistication with every bounce and swing, each one of them... a few even hung along the gotta encrusted waistline, tight off centre plait, now on now off camel skin mojris with sequins, a mirror work covered maroon cloth bag slung over her shoulder, large almost cartoon like rounded eyes. she must be the sole saviour of the gota industry in the country, his lips began to lift and set at a lopsided angle. she was actually nodding at what he'd exclaimed...

"unbelievable!" he muttered under his breath. and wondered why he wanted to laugh out loud. not throttle her.

she ran from there, sure he would throttle her if she stayed a moment longer. and the thought of those long muddy fingers on her throat... she scampered even faster...

***

his eyes opened and he reached out. his hand landed on her and he held tightly, pulling her to him. his eyes were still closed. he must have dozed off.

she came to him without word or sound, just rolling across the distance that separated them, her hands grasping him. their bodies met and touched. a fire started that neither wanted to contain. eyes still closed, they felt each other's hair, skin, flesh. they pulled off each other's clothes without asking or demurring.

just a need and a longing. something that nothing could question ever. nothing could pollute ever. nothing dare deny.

his lips sought her breasts first as she bit his throat lightly, tasting the salt on his skin, she let him slide down and settle on her breast. she knew what he wanted, she needed to give him that. was that enough to be called a whole relationship she wondered. her hands moved to his head and sank into the thick dark hair. she drew him closer to herself. the demand of his lips on her skin felt searing and soothing at once. the rough caress of his stubble, she smiled as she felt that. his touch sent peace to her heart, it was a blessing. she wrapped her legs around him wanting to feel him join her again, in a dance that had started where she would never know, but it was a bright and lit place where it had first taken breath she knew. bas, pata chal jata hai... you just know, that's all.

a gust of wind seemed to swirl through the room, a song lifted over the river maybe...

he raised himself, knowing her longing and wanting to fulfill that and nothing else. her longing was untainted, pure, innocent. it came from light, it gave light. he thrust into her and heard her swift intake of breath, a moan. he loved to hear it every time. he did not know how to pray, how to believe in things outside the here and now, but in that... hints of another place... hamesha.

then both were lost as craving took over. they moved and flowed and ebbed and embraced, cresting again and again. cruelly ripped emotions had transformed to extremely heightened physical energies, finding their own path to release, to expunging. their bodies knew where to find the way out of that glut, that pit of destruction they had been dragged to by a malignant voice that wouldn't stop. by lascivious eyes and treacherous blood. by betrayal, by lust, by death.

arnav singh raizada and khushi made love as the day dawned and grew brighter. their breath, sighs, gasps, guttural incoherent sounds filled the room.

***

they were both getting ready when he bumped into her by mistake. she  was at the dressing table, trying to comb her hair with her fingers, and not let the torn and tattered pompoms bother her too much.

he had just come out after a shower, the air carried his fresh smell in, she looked up, but his head was covered in a towel as he rubbed his hair dry, he didn't see her.

"dammit!" he cursed softly under his breath. khushi smiled, laad governor! she thought.

"dekhiye na, humarey kurtey ka budbuda kharab ho gaya!" she said in sweet little girl voice, knowing full well what that would get from him.
(look, the pompoms on my kurta are spoiled...!)

"whaaat! budbuda... what's that, khushi! what're you saying?" he sounded all tycoonish and impatient.

khushi pointed to her pompoms with a sad face.

he looked at her dumbstruck, then rolled his eyes, muttered, "unbelievable!" and went and stood by the window with his phone. no, he would make that call to aman about the london project.

"ajeeb laad governor hai yeh..." she hummed softly to herself to the tune of an old and lovely song her mother used to hum, as she fixed her dupatta and turned to make sure she looked alright. a slight rush of tears did wet the corner of her eyes, but she let it pass.

asr said to aman, the moment they got back, he would leave for london... yes, with khushi bhabi of course. why couldn't they call her mrs raizada he thought. mrs raizada, he smiled slightly. yes, maa would have loved her. he swallowed as the lump rose in his throat.

two young people caught in the terrifying maelstrom of life had decided they would make their way out, this time they would not be drowned, defeated... by lust, by treachery, by death. 

index

chapter 29