Monday, 13 August 2018

new one shot : deal







"the deal's off, gentlemen! akash, let's go."

the voice rang out sharp and precise, its decibel remained low.


there was a tremor on the surface of the water in the glasses on the long conference room table, and as the three men sitting across watched nonplussed, the man who had just uttered those words got up smoothly from the leather upholstered chair and strode toward the exit. behind him shuffled a pleasant looking young man, with a slightly myopic air, his amiable face filling with bewilderment.


the man he followed had not a trace of amiability or bewilderment on his visage. he looked straight ahead, his profile immobile. his jawline was rigid, his lips had thinned to a steely contour, his eyes were opaque. he breathed swiftly, the air he exhaled was searing. anger was apparent in every line and movement of his taut, lithe frame. he walked fast and didn't look back as one of the men, the large one with a flamboyant lavender velvet jacket, called out plaintively, "mr raizada! but, mr raizada...!"


the youngest of the three men, the only one in shirtsleeves, ran after the man who was now almost at the stern of the yacht, where a smart sunseeker predator in white and polished black waited. in front, the elegant arc of mandovi stretched and touched the horizon, it was a warm day in june, sunlight glittered on the undulating ripples, an eagle banked gracefully overhead.


"arnav! arnav! don't worry about what daddy is saying, i'll find a way..." the young man stuttered in his haste, obviously distressed.


the man walking ahead didn't break his stride. at the edge of the stern he leapt neatly across to the other yacht, then he turned and stood still for a moment facing the young man who shifted awkwardly on his feet, looking perturbed.


"it's okay, we agree to your terms!" the young man blurted out, unable to bear the pressure of that long point blank stare.


there was a lick of fire in the inscrutable eyes; though one couldn't be sure. wind blew back thick jet black hair off the man's high forehead, a sharply etched widow's peak at the centre. his precisely cut charcoal grey jacket fluttered in the breeze, the slim trouser legs wrapped around legs firmly planted about a foot apart, the yacht swayed gently.


"good," said the man.


relief washed over the young man's face, he gave a helpless smile and began, "thanks, arnav, you don't know..."


"akash!" the man cut in, "take the deed and let's go!"


he turned around once more and walked off.


the young man was too flabbergasted to say anything. akash singh raizada walked up to him and with his habitual gentle smile held out his hand for the deed of sheesh mahal.



***



sheesh mahal.


he exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. the river was all reflections, the sky closed in, the yacht increased speed. a shrill call cut through the air and hovered over images intent on entering his mind. it was the eagle. he swallowed and an indecipherable expression glanced across the planes and angles of his face, he seemed to start. suddenly his face looked tired, drawn.


sheesh mahal... the house of glass, of shattered mirrors, in which every image must get tainted, must bleed, must die. the eagle called again. his eyes opened and he stared straight into the sun, which was getting brighter just before setting.


dark irises glinted. you could tell now they were brown, a deep startling shade of earth and cognac, a transparency in them which you'd never have imagined only an instant before.


"bhai!" akash was standing behind him, he sounded elated, "how did you manage to swing that! those guys! poor chaps!"


arnav singh raizada gave a tight smile and drawled, "akash. money. it's all about that. and yes -"
he turned deliberately toward his cousin, and reaching out with a languid arm dusted an imaginary speck off his shoulder with long fingers that were, as always, perfectly manicured.


"-don't let anyone get away with a 'no'. remember, you don't win some and lose some, you win them all."


akash grinned nervously. he hoped his cousin was saying this in jest.
he knew for certain, he wasn't.



***



the helicopter's staccato whir sent ripples through the silent air of the night. lights began to dot the land below. first just a handful, then more. and the twinkling grew, beckoning. they had reached lucknow.


arnav sat staring ahead in the passenger's seat behind the pilot. the robinson r66 five seater craft had started to arc toward the destination, they were beginning to descend.


a pair of remote eyes looked down. was there a flash of lightning caught and stilled somewhere, in some inaccessible depth or haunted recess?


the man in the passengers' seat threw back his shoulders and took a deep long breath. it had been a while. yes, a long while. was sheesh mahal ready for him? was he...?


arnav singh raizada cut the thought short.


the flight from goa had been delayed, they'd reached delhi as evening fell. he was determined to reach sheesh mahal that very day. there would be no waiting, enough time had been wasted, been taken away.


he was out of the helicopter the instant it landed. as his feet touched the ground, he breathed in again, this time sharply. it was done. he had returned. he had wrested from the pretenders what was his. the night air touched his face, and seemed to greet him.


darkness lay all around, he let his eyes adjust to it. the grounds stretched into woods at the back, he could hear the sound of water to his right... the river. the helipad was where it had always been, in the far right corner of the property. he pivoted slowly in the direction of the house, it was to the left he knew, even if the night wouldn't let him see anything clearly.


the first silhouetted spire came into view, a rush in his throat made him draw in his breath. the muscles in his gut clenched, his diaphragm was taut, as if anticipating an attack. he let his eyes travel further over the barely visible curves and arches. the massive shadowy structure coalesced into view, memory filled in the details.


there was the front door below the main arch at the centre, a series of windows with stained glass ornate tops flanked it on either side. a pathway led to the door through the manicured lawn.


sheesh mahal.


his steps quickened. he could feel the crunch of gravel under his feet.


clouds shifted in the sky, a bright ivory moon lit the night.




***



he pushed open the heavy mahogany door and stepped into the hallway. it cut the night air out, he was enclosed in a cocoon of silence. arnav walked briskly to the wide pavilion ahead, which ran all around the four sides of the central courtyard. he could see the row of pillars along it in the moonlight. there were twenty four in all, six on each side.


he went out onto the mosaic paved courtyard and stood there for a moment. then he inhaled deeply, remembering. trying not to remember.


why had he not reached in time? why had he not started running the moment he felt something was not right? why had he waited? had he not... had he not- his breath became short, constricted, laboured. even after so many years, he couldn't think of that moment without feeling his breath slowly die.


maa had died. he had been too late.


the night was mute and unmoving around him, an indictment in its stubborn quiet. he had known it would be difficult to return, but he hadn't known just how difficult. arnav looking up at the star studded sky above. he willed himself to take control; he would counter the pain, he would not brook it. maa would never come back, his father would always be the weak philanderer he was, and his uncle a charlatan, a thief.


but his sister was innocent. she was a mere child of four when their parents died that treacherous night. later their uncle cheated them out of everything they had. he had promised himself then, he'd get sheesh mahal back for her. it would be her eighteenth birthday present.


arnav exhaled slowly. anjali had no real memory of their home. or maa, or pita ji. to her, arnav was her elder brother, mother and father. she called him badey... elder. she'd be eighteen in a couple of weeks. unbelievable.


a tiny smile played on his lips as he thought of his sibling. the right corner of his lips dipped a little more than the left. an asymmetry his mirror reflected without any kindness, a part of him. his eyes glinted. he swallowed hard, his adam's apple jutted out, an ache in his throat. he had been only fourteen at the time. his maternal grandmother, nani ji, had stepped in and taken over. they had gone to delhi with her and lived there ever since, along with their mother's brother and his wife, their uncle and aunt–mama ji and mami ji– and their son, akash. anjali bullied akash shamelessly. poor akash.
arnav was about to reach for his phone to call anjali when he heard the noise.


he started. what was that?


a sweep of fluttering wings overhead. he looked up involuntarily and saw the pigeons flying out of the eaves.



***



there was the noise again.


a tinkling, bell like. bells? here? arnav frowned.


was he imagining it? how could anyone be here? the main door had been locked. besides no one lived in sheesh mahal. his uncle's agents had assured him of that. he shook his head, it must have been the pigeons.


a shadow moved somewhere. he looked around swiftly, his eyes darted toward the upper floor. the covered balcony with the ornate balustrade and stucco decorations on the ceiling and arches loomed above, with its curiously watchful air. darkness crowded its hollows, moonbeams streamed in at places illuminating a baluster here, a lamp shade or stained glass elsewhere. but all seemed still up there.


arnav craned his neck, peering. right behind his head there was the sound again. arnav didn't turn this time. his head cocked at an angle, eyes narrowed, a feral alertness in him, he tried to gauge what the noise might be, what was its source.


bells, yes, they were bells... he was sure now. he had heard bells like that before. here, in this house...
maa. his mother's anklets used to have a clear happy sound, a jingle of tiny gently swaying round bells, like the pitter patter of raindrops.


his eyes closed at the reminder of that sound, pain shot through him. he swallowed involuntarily, feeling the tightness in his throat. the bells could be heard again, now a longer spell. who was running around the house wearing anklets?


arnav opened his eyes. no, this wasn't his imagination.


he swung on his heels and dashed back into the pavilion, taking care not to make any noise. he let his instincts lead him to the stairs and raced up, two steps at a time.



***



reaching the balcony above, arnav turned blindly to the left, that's where the noise had come from he was quite certain.


something beat furiously close to his ears. wings. a pigeon flew by brushing his cheeks and eyes with its rushing wings. he ran on down the balcony, intent on finding the intruder.


as he turned at the far end of the long marbled stretch, he felt the hit on his chest, it knocked the wind out of him, he almost fell but managed to stay on his feet. his arms shot out and caught hold of whatever it was that had made such violent contact with him. he stood there gasping for breath, his eyes closed.


an instant went by, grabbed by the night and locked away in its opaque embrace.


just an instant, or maybe a fraction of it, a tiny endless piece of an infinitesimal sliver of time.


then the frantic threshing registered. arnav realised the thing he was holding was moving constantly and with considerable force. what was it?


he opened his eyes and frowned darkly at it, his anger mounting. his lips had already tightened as he glared at the object. he wasn't sure what he noticed first though, the eyes or the volley of breaths.
large iridescent irises were looking at him angrily. or were they terrified?


it was a girl.


a woman, in fact.


arnav stared at her dumbfounded.


a woman? what was she doing here?


he felt her breath on him; on his neck and chin; warm, stirred up. she was breathing fast and she was pushing hard against him. arnav was still trying to collect his thoughts. who could she possibly be? why was she here?


he noticed his hands were grasping her tightly, he could feel her bones through the fabric of her clothes. his left hand was on the small of her back, his right hand was clamped on her left arm and was twisting it behind her.


she made an incoherent, vicious sound and tried to jerk away from him.


he caught hold of her shoulders none too gently and shook her as he bit out through clenched teeth, "who the hell are you?!"


she didn't answer. instead she wriggled desperately and tried to wrench herself free, but he was not letting go.


"i said who... are... you?!" arnav repeated in a guttural voice, pausing menacingly between each word.


a thought struck him and he could feel a surge of anger ricochet through him. his uncle. was this woman part of some game his uncle was playing? a plant? here to sabotage his possession of sheesh mahal? arnav's anger and instinct came to a decision.


he tightened his grip on her shoulders and thrust his face close to her, his lips drawn back in a sinister grimace, eyes glowing with chilling fury.


she drew back and strained against him, trying to get away. he pushed his face further toward hers, his rage scalding.


"who... sent... you? ANSWER ME DAMMIT!" his hoarse voice rang out and echoed off the bare walls and  surfaces of the empty mansion clothed in darkness.


the girl flinched. her eyes widened and grew more opalescent. her body began to tremble. he could feel her shoulders shake; she has such fragile, small bones, he thought taken aback. and what was that pounding he could hear? it was getting louder, almost deafening. he felt his mouth go slightly dry. what was he sensing? danger?


he saw her open her lips... why were they shimmering?... she took a slow breath, tilting her head up till it went all the way back, till he could see the arch of her dark eyebrows in the moonlight, the bridge of her sharp nose, the curve of her upper lip... her quivering chin... the long column of her neck...


arnav waited. the pounding was louder now. what was it?


suddenly he knew what it was. his eyes were wary as he looked down. he saw their bodies touching, almost fused near the chest; the pounding was coming from there. it was heart beats.
how could heart beats be so loud?


he could feel them racing against his sternum, striking the inner walls of his chest cavity, riding up his throat. whose heart beats were these? his? or were they hers? he had the strangest sensation of drowning for a moment. running... he was running... but he knew he wouldn't reach in time.
he felt a jolt... it was her. the girl. the woman.


she was pushing him back with all her might. as the force with which she resisted scaled and overcame his hold, she lost balance and surged toward him, her face coming up close to him, her breath on his eyelids and cheeks.


then she heaved and thrust him back with both her hands, and kicked him on the shin. the pain made him wince and her shoulders slipped out of his grip. a cascade of shimmery fabric; a skirmish of anger, surprise, and velocity... and she was gone. he turned swiftly and lunged to catch her, but she was quicker. his feet moved of their own accord, giving chase. he could hear the sound again of those wretched bells as she fled. by the time he reached the main door, she had disappeared.


he stood there, dazed and furious. the woman had sensed his distraction and taken advantage of the moment. his opponent had got the better of him. arnav didn't like that. he didn't like that at all. he looked out into the night and up at the starlit sky.


"dammit!" he hurled at his invisible opponent under his breath.


arnav turned and went back into sheesh mahal.


he had to know who this woman was. she couldn't get away so easily. he retraced his steps all the way back to where she had bounded into him. he squinted at the balustrade, the floor, searching for what he wasn't sure. he took a step, what was that under his foot? he prodded with his shoe.
there was the noise again.


arnav bent down and touched the object. he lifted it up slowly, wondering what it was. it was a delicate strand of silver he saw, there were tiny clusters of round bells hanging from it. it was an anklet. he raised it further up to examine it more closely in the moonlight. a frown creased his forehead.


such a small insignificant little thing. but that's all that was needed. it wasn't easy to defeat arnav singh raizada; a smile began to tilt his lips; an almost meditative malevolence entered his eyes. his adversary would have to return. and this time, she wouldn't get away.
he felt the thrill of a win in his gut. his heart beat accelerated.



***



the girl was pelting down the path leading to her house. it wasn't too far. she had climbed in through the window at the back as usual to feed the pigeons. she'd gotten late because they'd gone to the fair today. she shivered at the thought of the intruder. no one lived in sheesh mahal... so, who was that man? or maybe he wasn't a man at all. he was... he was... she almost screamed at the thought. was he a ghost? was he a... m... m... monster??


she folded her hands together in supplication as she ran.


"hey devi maiyya" she prayed fervently to her goddess, "save me! save me!"


but what was that? something was not right. she stopped and looked down at her feet. where was the anklet on her left leg?!!! was it lying somewhere on the road... or perhaps it had fallen off in sheesh mahal??


the girl could hear her heart beat thudding against her rib cage, speeding up.






............................................................................................................................................
a cataclysmic meeting. i just felt like intruding upon that. arnav singh raizada and khushi kumari gupta were on my mind. started writing this one shot months ago, but only the other day it all started coming together. so i decided to give myself a birthday treat. hope you had fun reading it. i have no idea if this is the preamble to a longer story. for now, it's this... the meeting. the collision. the cessation of all normalcy.





  





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Saturday, 3 December 2016

arnav ji goes to sasural


 
a r n a v  j i   g o e s   t o   s a s u r a l


the kick landed right on his stomach. he jackknifed up on the bed, "what the!" he exclaimed in agony.

clutching his stomach he looked around in bewilderment. what could have hit him like that? was someone out to kill him?

then he noticed her leg on his lap. huh! what was khushi's leg doing here? before he could grasp at an answer, a fist came and hit him hard on the shoulder...

he turned and stared at khushi. it was her. she was kicking and punching him. what was this? some sort of bizarre khushi kumari raizada... singh gupta revenge plan? he snarled at her viciously only to realise she couldn't see it.

she was fast asleep.

asleep?

his jaw had just begun to drop, when her right leg swung out from somewhere unknown and struck his shin sharp.

"ow!" he exploded, grabbing his shin with both arms and rolling in pain. khushi flung an arm around him and held him tight, he could hear the faintest, softest, "mmm, arnav ji, chhoriye hume!"

(mmm, arnav ji, let me go!)

the pain seemed to glide from his shin to somewhere near his heart, all around it, and gripped tight. he closed his eyes, feeling the blow of her soft utterance and the weight of her lissome arm across his chest.

he let go of his shin and put his palm on her arm where it rested against his heart.
"khushi!" he whispered, a helpless sound in it tonight.

she decided to roll away just at that moment, all the way to the edge of the narrow bed. he was beginning to sit up to pull her back, when she moved at mercurial speed once more, rolling right back and slamming hard against the length of his body, her back to him.

his arms reached out in reflex. she pressed back against him and her elbow flew backward jabbing him in the ribs.

"uggfhffh!" was all he could manage. then before any further damage was done, he slipped his arms around her from behind and held her firmly, pulling her even closer.

"come here, you crazy taekwondo queen, and stay still, samjhi tum!" he whispered, a little anger in his voice.

his shin was really hurting. her size was deceptive, all that samosa, chana and poori eating had obviously built brute strength in his sleeping beauty. he peered at her innocent features evocative in the moonlight. a malfunction in the heart region occurred instantly.

he swallowed.

his hand accidentally brushed against her belly... it yielded to his touch, cushiony and soft.

something leapt in him. he closed his eyes. how would he survive this night?

he breathed out very carefully and opened his eyes, and concentrated on the bright pink mosquito net. maybe it would work, take his mind of... things.

pink mosquito net? what the.

she punched him on his quadriceps. deftly.





......................

i wrote this for blast from the past thread 24's main post. the episode 234 first time in bed together scene is one of the most curiously erotic scenes between asr and khushi with all its hitting, bashing, anger, laughter, undercurrents of desire.







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episode rambles

Saturday, 19 November 2016

no media, please. ... an asr khushi one shot




"no, aman, complete media ban... that's it... what?!! main ne kaha na, nobody, no newspaper, magazine, channel.. no a no b, no z... no one. i want complete silence for a while. please make sure that happens." he finished his call abruptly, picked up his jacket, shrugged it on smoothly, and turned to leave the room.


"khushi!!!" he called out, obviously in a hurry, "khushi, where are you... i'm getting late!"


"thahriye... ek minute, ek minute," she rushed in from across the pool, her aarati plate in hand, responding to the impatience in his voice. the grain in it changed at every turn and twist sending all sorts of tremors through her. and it added to her breathlessness.


"okay okay... relax," he said when he saw her in that state... "i'm only getting a bit late, no need to get that hassled." 


her breathing audibly hitched. did he have no idea what that "ralax" did to her every time?


"wo... n.n.nahi, arnav ji... just that... ok, aap bahut mahatwapoorn kaam ke liye jaa rahe hain... hume aarati karne dijiye, asha hai ki aapko poori safalta mile..."


("er... no... you're off to a very important meeting, let me do an aarati, wish you complete success...")


"ok," he said with that indulgent look which always came into his eyes when the women of his family appeared with their aarati plates, lamp lit, and loads of love in their eyes. especially, these eyes... his cooky, crazy, totally her own person wife. he always felt a flip in his heart when he thought of her or saw her. 


he stood obediently, head a little lowered as she raised the plate and made the mandatory three circles around his face, then she dipped her thumb in the red vermilion in the little silver bowl and went to make a "tilak" on his forehead.


his hand came up swiftly and gripped her arm... "khushi, stop!"


"kya?!!!"


"don't put that! i can't go to a meeting with that!"


"kyun nahin? issme kharabi kya hai..."


("why not? what's wrong with it?")


"kharabi... khushi, why don't you understand!!!" his voice grew urgent, irritated, gravelly, "this is a meeting with the world's largest luxury and fashion house... i have to look the role... aur waise bhi, you know i don't like all these things..." he pursed his lips, clearly annoyed.


"par yeh bahut bada kaam hai, aap ko bhagwan ka aashirwad.."


("but this is a huge task, god's blessings...")


"khushi," his voice had grown a little cold, "i've told you many times, i believe i make my own life... you know i don't believe in what people call god. i have never stopped you from doing what you like... don't you think there should be some understanding of how i see things. especially because this meeting is so so important?"


contrarily enough, though she absolutely did not want to see him leave in a bad mood, wanted him to go feeling calm and strong, she felt angry and couldn't stop herself from showing it. "theek hai, aap jaiye phir, hume aap se kuch nahin kahna," she blurted out and stalked off


("fine, go then, i don't want to talk to you.")


"khushi..." he tried to cajole her with a softening voice, but she was adamant, face resolutely turned away.


he looked at his watch, he was going to be late... he had to leave now. again he pursed his lips, this time a note of helplessness.


he walked up to her from behind, when he was really close he bent down and placed a gentle kiss on the the nape of her neck, "wish me luck," he murmured against her skin, and before she could turn around, he was gone.


did my breath stop for a second, thought khushi. she could feel tears sting her eyes sharply. why, why was it always like this with them.


***


it was late when he got in, she was almost asleep, the room was dark except for the dim night light in the far corner. he walked in, careful not to make any noise. but she'd been worrying about him... that meeting, she had to know how he was feeling after it. was it good or was he despondent? beaten? eyes still closed, she breathed out slowly and started to listen for the signs. if he were not upbeat, happy... oh, please no... don't let that happen... don't even think like that, khushi... achhi achhi baatein soch (think good things)... this is too important for arnav ji... and she listened.


she heard him pick up his change, go to the bathroom... gargle, brush... he must be having a quick shower now, then the silence as he toweled himself dry, changed.. and the door opened, a sliver of light hit her eyelids, she grimaced involuntarily.


"khushi?!!" he whispered.


she stayed silent, eyes closed.


she felt him walk over to his side of the bed, get in. then a rustle of bedclothes as he shifted closer to her, very close, she could feel him exhale somewhere near her ear.


her breath began to change... growing faster. arnav, uff why can't i be calm around you.


"khushi..." he whispered right by her cheek, "you awake, baby?... okay i will whisper because you don't want me to know you're up... you've been fretting the whole evening, haven't you... and praying for me? sitting in front of devi maiyya... talking her into making sure i succeed?'


her eyes flew open... how did he know!


"i know," he said as though hearing her thought... then he kissed the eyelid nearest him lightly, a smile on his lips, "i know you can't ever let me go like that... you made up with me in your mind, said you'd try and understand how i saw things, then missed me like mad, looked at your phone thinking you'll call me... then thought, no, i don't want to disturb arnav ji, he needs to "focus" now... sorry khushi, i keep saying these strange words... but you know..."


she couldn't let him go on like this, she raised her hand and put a finger on his lips, "shhh, aap jaise bhi shabd istemaal kartein hain, theek hai... yeh aapka tarika hai... par...?" the question she really wanted to ask...


(shh, whatever be the sort of words you use, they're ok, it's your way... but?...)


he kissed the finger she'd laid against his lips, and grasped her hand in his drawing in to his heart. then he caught hold of her by both her shoulders and swiftly tugged, landing her on top of him...


she was startled, eyes widening, squeal of "arre!!!" escaping her lips, and she saw his face...


head thrown back, he was smiling hugely, that drugging, utterly male, take on the world smile of his, his chin thrust forward, the stubble as always perfectly shaved, and even in the half light, his eyes shone like bright jewels of a rare chocolate hue, swirling cognac, brown earth drenched in rain. she felt a shiver run through her. he was so beautiful when he smiled triumphant. this is how she always wanted to see him. 


she let her hands slide up and cup his face, looking at him wishing the moment would never end.


he caught her eye, quietly he said, "we did it."


before that could sink in, he was up in one quick motion with her, carrying her in his arms, "yes!!! you and i, we did it, my darling sweet paagal khushi kumari gupta singh raizada."


"kya?" she squeaked as he started to twirl  around with her...


"kya? khushi? that... wo... for which you prayed... the deal is done... it's ours... we succeeded, khushi... your prayers, my focus... came together and got it done..." he was laughing and talking in a rush. 


to watch arnav singh raizada enjoying triumph in business was a pleasure of a very precious kind.


khushi started to grin. "kya!!!" she exclaimed in delight.


he sat down suddenly with her on his laps and nuzzled her neck, he whispered "kya kya karna band karogi..., " and laughed at his nonplussed wife, lover, life, "you and i have pulled it off, and baby, there is no such thing as my success for me any longer... okay, i can't say filmi things the way you like them, but jab se tum meri zindagi mei aayi ho, it's become our world, not just mine... no success of mine is possible without you... and it is always our win... always."


"hamesha," khushi stroked his hair, his nuzzling head, eyes closed, just enjoying him "win..." she was smiling...


he picked her up again without a word and took her outside, by the pool on the recliner. up there the stars twinkled. he lay next to her and watched them for a second, then turned and kissed her deep on her lips, long, slow, wandering, searching kiss.


"er, so did you put the tilak on my photograph?" he said suddenly just as she was about to drown in all sorts of sensations.


"kya?!!!" she yelped, "aapko yeh bhi pata hai?"


("what? you know this also?")


"yes, my ziddi, pyaari, completely lunatic biwi, i know that too... and i know a few other things as well," he winked suddenly, her eyes grew saucer like, lips forming that "o" that was all hers, "want me to show you?" he said as he reached out and touched her flat belly, sliding his hand up to her waist.


the pool, the garden, the skies watched silently. only butterflies fluttered. hush, don't tell anyone anything, asr has banned all media for a while. 


***


the news broke a week later. ar had tied up with the world's largest luxury house and would be opening boutiques around the world. the news was a complete surprise to the industry. no one had heard that the powerful conglomerate was in talks with anyone in india, let alone ar. how had this young man pulled it off... media started all its speculation, cogitation, analysis, prediction, projection, gossip... aman got a bonus and a break. 


and the young man concentrated on further refining his knowledge of certain things.

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hope you had fun. wrote this one in 2013 when something was on abort barun and the media... can't remember now what it was... or maybe, we had not seen him for too long and were missing him in pagal vein. the story marks that, i guess. thanks for reading.









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Sunday, 13 November 2016

the break of day : one shot





the night closed in around the white mercedes-benz suv as it shot through the empty after hours roads. there was a slight drizzle building up to something more falling lightly onto the asphalt, the large old trees, and the pretty landscaped circles of new delhi. dark windows sat behind high walls and rolling lawns, the rich part of town.

he drove without seeing a thing, eyes fixed straight ahead, hands gripping the leather of the steering wheel,
knuckles white, his jaw was set, a complete stillness in his frame, the darkness outside seemed pale in comparison to the lack of light in his irises. opaque, pebble like, inert, inaccessible. his foot pressed down on the accelerator as though glued to it. he was leaving behind the bungalows and avenues, heading toward what who knew. he didn't seem to care, he looked neither left nor right, just followed the path where it led him, turning whichever way it went, tyres screeching against the slippery surface, headlights throwing two harsh pools of light in front. blue black road, a ribbon stretching on, and a car gleaming white against the rain drops, speeding.

the thoughts had come he had no idea when, but as usual, suddenly they had him enveloped. choking. gagging his insides, he couldn't breathe, he needed to get away.

he's running down a corridor, a terrible feeling growing. he's bounding up old marble laid steps two at a time, over the inlay work on each step, banisters with cast iron curlicues on either side topped by a smooth gleaming railing in dark mahogany, how many times he's slid down them, playing with his friends, getting away from someone out to catch him at a prank... but tonight there was no time. he had to get there, get there before something terrible happened. his heart had a premonition too heavy for his 14 years, his head whirled with a smell of danger, he ran faster, almost tripping on the edge of a slightly chipped step.

the speedometer swung to 90, the silence of late night streets shattered as the tyres hit a pothole submerged in water, it had been raining intermittently the whole day. a dull sort of rain that refused to drain the clouds and clear the skies, burdening the air with a clammy humidity, mid july heat trapped in its pores and threatening to return full swelter the moment the rain drops eased.

maa.

a scream pierced the world. a boy knew it was over. everything. she was gone. that was it. a part of him writhed in agony, it wanted to scream, but he couldn't. everything had gone flat somehow, closed. a gate within had slammed shut, inside it the scream, the tears, the pain, the mindless anguish, the fear, the terror, the whimpers that don't stop, the sobs that break out unbidden, the burning feeling behind the eyes, the heaving wracked breaths, the sorrow that lingers in the soul, the keening, and also the laughter of a young boy, his playfulness, his gentle bit, his loving bit, his tenderness, his right to be just that, a boy loved to distraction by his beautiful mother. all shut out. everything gone.

arnav malik had to keep quiet, had to be strong, ruthless almost, and he chose to be arnav singh raizada.

he could feel his breath getting shallow, his head begin to spin. were those beads of sweat on his face? his skin felt fragile. too many thoughts. too much pain, and a question that put cold fear in his heart. at the thought of it his foot pressed down harder, the car bolted and almost spun out of control.

but a part of him knew what was coming and deftly brought it back on to the road; he hit the brakes. the car came to a stop, and a silence descended, only the sound of his long fractured breath in the night, and an underlying whisper of rain.

that fear had come again.

he opened the door and got out swiftly, he needed fresh air. he needed to feel free, he needed to feel like himself, but the fear stalked him, asphyxiating, demanding to be heeded. he had to get away from it, had to stop it, he inhaled slowly then he did what he hadn't done in years.

he screamed into the darkness.

out to the skies, the stars, the trees, whoever would listen. maa.

he sank down onto the bare wet road, looking up, pleading... pleading for what?

the minutes ticked by. barren, desert minutes scorched by a merciless rage. 

at last he felt the drizzle on his skin... he frowned, what was the time? he had to get home. he got up as he had done so many times before, at every instant that life tripped him up, and made his way to his car. in its cabin he was safe, a feeling of comfort here. quiet, giving, as if the machine knew the man's heart.

when he reached shantivan, it was almost midnight, he let himself in quietly and walked down the long hallway and swiftly went up the stairs to his bedroom. a night light was on at the far end of the room, a little adjustment made for khushi, she couldn't sleep in complete darkness. he could see her silhouette on her side of the bed. for no reason, the word "pala" came to his head and a smile almost came to his lips. a tenderness entered his gaze, funny girl, he thought, so innocent and untouched by this world in so many ways.

but he had no place for this innocence tonight, he was too beaten by the world, too fragile, he couldn't take this burden to her, not tonight.

he made his way to the poolside french window, gently opening it so as not to make any noise, feeling the tiny shards of rain that the wind blew in on his face. the curtain billowed, he held it away and stepped out, letting the door slide shut. his eyes fell on the side of the pool and he remembered another night.

a beautiful bride stood outside, alone, helpless. his bride. he had left her alone, made her helpless. he had pushed her out of the room into the cold night. he had made her sleep on the hard flagstone floor while he slept in his bed inside. he was pushing khushi out of the room, shutting the door, leaving her alone out there in the open... how could he?!!

pain made him wince, he felt a sob rise, he sat down on the floor and felt the stone with his bare palms. how could he? and the sobs came. silently, inexorably. his body shook as they tore through him. how could he? the girl who was his love, his very life, who made jalebis when she was angry, but never forgot to make his sugar free batch even then, the girl who forgave so easily, who spoke to stars, who was miss taekwondo in bed and how he loved her moves, the girl who opened her heart with such completeness and gave everyone joy, the girl who was his sweet paagal...

his train of thought was interrupted. what was that? he felt a touch on his left shoulder. he looked up quickly, who was that?

she stood there looking down at him, sleep still clinging to her eyes, "arnav ji?"

she'd never seen him like this. she was terribly worried at what she saw in his eyes. she sat before him and held his face in her gentle palms. she could feel the sobs running through him. "kya hua?" she asked with her habitual directness, her innocence.


(what's the matter?)

he sat looking into her dark, clear eyes, and the fear that wouldn't leave found expression, "khushi, i'm not like my dad, am i?"

khushi stared back, nonplussed. what had brought this on? she had never heard him say this. he never spoke of his father, in fact.

he saw the puzzled look in her eyes and knew he had never shared these thoughts with her or anyone. they bothered him, so he kept them away... but he had loved his father too. growing up, his indulgent father's only son, he'd had a lot of fun with the man he thought was good and kind, who was the "head" of the family, a man he could trust. his father had a nasty temper, but when he was in a good mood there was really no one as wonderful as him.

that night as he ran knowing he would be too late, he'd lost not only his precious mother, but also a man he loved, and every illusion he'd ever had about him. that breaking of trust, that erasing of father was also a pain locked behind the door that slammed shut.

just that once in a while it visited him, in the form of this fear.

was he like his cheating, profligate, untrustworthy father? did his father live in his gussa? in his self, somewhere? was he capable of doing what his father did, after all he'd done that to khushi... and that marriage too. he was perhaps just like his...

khushi began to understand what he was trying to say. and felt the terrifying pain of the man she loved no matter what. she drew him close into her arms and kissed him gently on one cheek. then on the other. then she drew his head down to her breast and stroked him with all the love she felt for him.

"aap sirf mere arnav ji hain, arnav singh raizada."

(you are only my arnav ji, arnav singh raizada.)

she knew hearing his name, the identity that he'd created and worked relentlessly to become gave him strength, it soothed him, she wanted him to feel its truth, its innate courage. his innate courage. himmat dikhai maine, he'd told her when speaking of that night and the days that followed. nothing he'd ever done had made her doubt that.

they sat there, the two of them, in the light drizzle.

when she felt his shoulders relax, his breath ease, she pulled him up and led him to their room. he lay down next to her, holding her close, her back to him she lay, his body curved to fit the lines of hers. he buried his face in her neck, enjoying the touch of her silken hair, his arm stretched across her belly, his fingers were tucked under her waist. his worst fears would always perhaps stay in some corner of his being, but life had sent him a crazy girl to open that locked door and feel all his feelings again, there was no need to be afraid, she was always there. he breathed in deeply.

"will you let me sleep in your pala?" he teased as he nibbled her ear, kissed her shoulder blades lightly, and hugged her a little tighter.

she smiled slightly at his tone. the worst was over she knew. tomorrow let it be a better day, please devi maiyya.











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Thursday, 28 April 2016

essential pyaar







iss pyaar mein sahi aur galat ka koi matlab nahin... agar matlab hai toh sirf iss baat ka... ki main hamesha hamesha tumse...

   


in this love truth and lie have no meaning... if anything has meaning, it's only this, that i will always... always...













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