without you: chapter 23

i love thee freely, as men strive for right;

i love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

i love thee with a passion put to use

in my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith
.

 
 ~~~ elizabeth barrett browning, how do i love thee ~~~

how he wanted to pick her up in his arms, hold her against him, feel her body, her breath, gather her to himself and never let go. he wanted to put her on that bed di had bedecked with flowers and tell her he adored her, adored her. no matter what.

he didn’t care she was in another man’s arms and that it was his own brother in law. he didn’t care she was screaming and saying “why don’t you leave anjali ji!”, his own sister. he didn’t care his eyes could see, his ears could hear. because he couldn’t deny his heart… couldn’t deride his longing, couldn’t damn his truth. he couldn’t let her go.

but he knew he could do none of that. he knew it even when he was fourteen.

  
when he had so wanted to hold his mother’s still body in his arms and coax her back to life. when his heart had screamed and had embedded that echo in his stricken being forever. when he had heard two gunshots.

how he had wanted to scream, “no! you can’t take her away! i won’t let you!” to whoever or whatever that was taking her away. he had wanted to cry, “maa, you won’t ever leave me, will you?” he had so wished he could change the fact that faced him that night… even though some part of him knew he couldn’t. not ever.
 

his eyes filled with a terrible feeling, some might call it pain… oh why was she in red. khushi lay there a splash of crimson against the cold night floor, outside his room where he had thrown her, pushing her viciously, looking away, resolved not to care.

telling himself, she deserved this, she had brought this upon herself. telling himself, he had to hurt her like this, because he had to protect di… and her unborn child.

a sob tore through him and he put his head in his cupped hands for a moment, unable to bear the sight of her shivering slightly in the night air. he lifted his head soon enough… he could not leave her alone there… his bride, his sister’s husband’s lover, his very breath. 

“khushi!” his breath seemed to caress her name.

he sat on the chaise longue looking out and whispered, “i hate you!”

***

“kyun, kyun nahin kar sakte aap ke bhai mere jiji se pyaar? yeh… kyun yeh ‘cannot happen’!” khushi was angry with this obnoxious man and mimicked his imperious tone as she played back his words to him.

(why, why can’t your brother be in love with my sister? this… why is it ‘cannot happen’!)

he wanted to say because i don’t believe in the ridiculous thing you call pyaar… love.
he bit out through gritted teeth, “kyunki main nahin chahta ki mere bhai kissi halwai ki ladki se shadi karey!”

(because i don’t want my brother to marry some confectioner’s daughter!)
this defiant, pompom swishing girl really got under his skin, he needed to get back at her somehow.

“kya!!!” she was livid, “duniya ke sabse achhe halwai hain woh, samjhe aap!!… aur hum unke uttaradhikari hain… suniye, hum bhi nahin chahte ki hamari jiji kissi laad governor ke bhai se shadi kkare!” she pursed her lips angrily and tossed her head.

(what!!! the world’s best confectioner is he, understand… and we are his heirs… and i don’t want my sister to marry some laad governor’s brother either.)

“uttar… what!!” even as he felt his anger soar, he felt diverted, hijacked by that confounding, unpronounceable word the maddening girl had flung at him. 

“listen, you!… i am not…” he thrust his face forward, pugnacious and ready to rip into her.

“aap listen!” she shot back instantly, eyes shooting fire, a finger wagging threateningly in front of his face.

it was the silence all around that they both felt at the same time. he turned to the left, she to the right… all around them sat people… staring… shocked. they had forgotten in the heat of the argument that they had come to a restaurant to talk about akash and payal.

***

asr looked at his watch. it had been only a couple of minutes since he spoke to di. another hour and forty minutes to lucknow.

“khushi, khushi… where are you? talk to me…” his mind raced ahead searching the skies, the slowly appearing stars… where was she!

he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. he could feel his pressure drop, his breath slow down, he knew he couldn’t live without her. there really was no hysterical exaggeration in this, no melodramatic lover’s assertion. this was the truth as he knew it to be. astute, sharp, completely averse to hyperbole, he had understood this fact when he began to feel his love. he knew it to be his life force now, it made him want to live… stay alive. for years, he had not felt the coursing flow of desire, a desire for life itself…

she had brought it to him… on her crazy lit up spiritedness, her beaming grin, her faith in him, her joy in him, her touch filled with quickening and calm at once, her heart full of vishwaas, her pure whimsy, her smile, her silken cloud of hair, the gentle bend in her neck, her shell like earlobes, the inward curve of her waist where his hand loved to settle and slowly slide down to her hip, her eyes that sparkled with laughter with anger with a wanton craving for him, her soft sure breath, her “arnav ji”. he stirred, almost smiled, as he thought he heard her voice just then.

“jee nahin paaonga tumhare bina,” the words slipped through his mind. was there ever a question of life if she were not with him.

(won’t be able to live without you.)

no.

he must not think like that. he jerked up and sat staring out of the window. he had to remain focused, alert… he had to bring her back…

“where are you, khushi… talk to me, baby.”

outside the cabin windows, the sun was setting, an orange purple fuchsia navy many hued band sat across the bending horizon… colourful, unabashed, just like her.

his eyes went to the skies above… were the stars out yet?

***

he had wanted to tell her why… why he couldn’t let her go. why he was ready now… why he understood… why he wanted to live with her… forever.

he would ask her today to marry him. he smiled as he took out the little case from the safe in the wardrobe. when she had walked in with payal and the family a while ago, she looked so lovely in her orange churidar, hair open, he had almost dragged her into his arms and asked her then and there.

but he’d managed to hold himself back.

“come to my room!” he had whispered as he leaned forward to take a bag from her nervous hands.

“huh!” she had looked startled, scared.

“i won’t eat you up,” he had laughed softly, “just come as soon as you can.”

she had looked at him bemused as he turned and left with all the bags, looking stunning in his white shirt and brown jacket, his hair slicked back, skin gleaming. this man was impossible, and why did he always set her dhakdhak racing? why did he want her to go to his room, her knees felt warm and tingly all of a sudden. she needed to sit down.

the wedding was this evening, noise and rush filled the halls and rooms of shantivan. even the garden was buzzing with people, decorators, caterers, neighbours, relatives, children.
he would tell her here, in the quiet of his room… he wanted her all to himself when he told her. he wanted to see her face… her eyes. 

he heard her at the door and turned to see her walk in. she looked flustered, a little excited too it seemed to him. he loved the slight colour on her cheeks. he smiled faintly and held his hand out, she walked up to him where he stood at the door to the wardrobe.

“come!” he said in that way of his, that mixed love and command in a chaotic heady concoction. and she followed him without even asking where he led her. her fingers felt the male roughness of his skin and wanted to hold on, no matter what. she didn’t wonder why despite being hurt by his suggestion that they live together, and that truce they had called for the sake of the wedding and the happiness of their families, she didn’t feel a single bit of resentment or anger. she trusted him… she wanted to go with him… yes. and where was he taking her?

he brought her to the full length mirror on one side of the walk in wardrobe and made her stand facing it. she was puzzled, her eyes darted to his, he said nothing, just smiled again, ever so slightly, one side of his lips going up a little. her heartbeats pelted. she stayed still.

he walked around to her back and murmured by her right ear, “close your eyes…” smooth, husky notes touched the nape of her neck raising fine goosebumps… something in the timbre of his voice today, its colour… why did it thrill her so…

she shut her eyes. she felt his hands moving over her head, near her face, down by her neck… then she felt the touch of metal… cool, heavy, solid metal… it went right round her throat and his hands were at the nape of her neck, fixing something.

she opened her eyes without waiting for him to tell her. right in front was her reflection, she looked at herself and there was the necklace… the beautiful gold necklace she had liked and he had given to lavanya that day, khushi’s brow wrinkled, only to hurt her he’d said. lavanya had not liked the set and he had returned it to the jeweller… khushi had stood there numbly watching the charade. 

she spun around before he was done, he fell back a little startled, “hey… hey, take it easy,” he said softly.
she looked at him, and couldn’t stop the million and one questions coming to her eyes… what… what was he doing? what was he trying to say? what…

he smiled again. slow and just a little flirtatious. she felt her stomach empty out, her hand flew to her throat, and her fingers felt the undulating gold. he came forward and bent down… the merest brush of lips on her collarbone just by the necklace, a gossamer light kiss, a caress of warm breath on ivory skin. khushi’s eyes closed again of their own accord.

“i am sorry…” he said next to her lips… and again that rub of gentle lips, now by the side of her mouth. khushi sighed, her lips parting.

they stayed like that for a moment, then she turned her head and looked at him, “arnav ji… aap humse maafi mat mangiye…” don’t apologise to me, arnav ji. she had no idea why, but she really did not need him to say that to her anymore, she did not wish him to feel this way… she wanted him to be happy, smiling, a little khadoos, always laad governor… 

but the way he was looking at her made her insides all fluttery and hazy. 

“khushi!” he said in a funnily serious sort of way…

there was a rapid knock on the door of the room. asr looked toward it, a frown on his forehead instantly. “what the…!” a sharp expletive.

again a knock, louder this time… then op called out, “chhotey saab! chhotey saab! nani ji aap ko bula rahin hain… jaldi aiye…”

(chhotey saab! chhotey saab! nani ji is calling you, come fast…)

op had an urgent note in his voice, asr shook his head and looked at khushi. she was looking worried.

he stood there gazing at her for a moment more, then he traced a wandering finger down her cheek, going up again to touch her lock of hair falling forward and tuck it behind her ears…

“khushi, wait for me, i’ll be back,” he said and turned to leave.

just before reaching the door, he whipped around, strode back, clasped her to him, and kissed her hard and long on her lips. his lips bruised, then grew gentle, warm, seeking, tender. she clung to him, her lips desperate for his touch, his loving… she had seen a trace of something in his eyes as he bent down, it made her tremble all over. what did arnav ji want to say to her? why had he called her here?

he lifted his head at last and walked away.

***

“mango… nahiin nahiin… aur ek chocolate…” khushi’s eyes were glittering with happiness. the summer evening was balmy, at last the blaze of the sun had disappeared, and a cooler air blew, chilled by the fountains and ponds bordering the proud sweeping avenue leading from the president’s palace, rashtrapati bhavan, right down to india gate and beyond. asr watched as his wife devoured icecreams, they were standing before a brightly painted vending cart near india gate. carts and customers milled around. on their way back from the hanuman temple, where he took khushi on tuesdays, she had looked so longingly at the scene, he had had to stop. 

(mango… no no… another chocolate.)

he watched her pale green pompoms bob up and down as she conversed with the icecream vendor. clearly, her voracious appetite for his icy product had impressed the man. khushi took the cone with two scoops of chocolate icecream eagerly and started licking with gusto.

“arnav ji, this is so good… mmm… i think i can eat at least a half a dozen of them at a go…” she mumbled as she ate, barely looking at him, totally concentrated on her cone.
“actually, khushi, you have already had half a dozen… this is your seventh…” asr muttered, amused. how his wife packed away so much into that svelte body of hers he had no idea… and after almost two years with her, he had stopped wondering. she loved her food, especially jalebis, golgappas, pooris, etc., etc., etc., and ice cream, and the copious quantities seemed never to settle on or mar her curves. he could imagine many of his models would kill for this trait, they’d probably hate khushi for this. nah, that was impossible… he smiled to himself.

she finished her cone, tucked her hand in his and laid her head on his shoulder, he could sense something was bothering her…

“arnav ji… i feel so bad you can’t eat all this…” she said as she got into the suv. she sounded sad.

she sat quiet as he drove, the thought of his diabetes was clearly bothering her. he gave her a sideways glance, a minute ago she was so happy… he wondered how her thoughts moved so quickly. 

“um… khushi!” he said, “remember that day when we went to black cadillac, the restaurant… to talk about akash and payal…?”

khushi looked at him perplexed, what was arnav ji talking about? why was he thinking of that day now?

“yaad hai?” he looked at her…

(do you remember?)

“so what was the word… that uttar… uttar something you said to me?”

“uttar???” khushi was flummoxed. then she remembered and with a big grin she recalled how confounded he had been by that word… she said, “uttaradhikari! why, arnav ji?”

“yeah, that’s right… uttaradhikari… what does it mean, khushi…?” he asked.

“heirs, arnav ji, heirs… ” she told him with a little emphatic nod of her head.

“heirs…” he paused and looked at her appreciatively, “tum kitni intelligent ho, khushi!”

(you are so intelligent, khushi!)

khushi started to smile, very pleased with herself.

“so what do you say, khushi… ghar jaake hum thoda uttaradhikari banaye?”

(so what do you say, khushi… shall we go home and make some heirs?)

khushi looked at him, eyes widening, lips getting into their “o” formation. asr tried to keep a straight face but his shoulders shook with laughter.

“arnav ji!… aap kitne burey hain…” khushi sputtered indignant. asr knew the thought of diabetes had been neatly replaced by the confusion of uttaradhikaris and their creation.

(arnav ji!… you are so bad…)

i love you, khushi… the words went through his mind… unbidden. i know, arnav ji… she thought, amid all the crazy feelings.

***

“where are you? where are you?” drummed through his mind as they flew covering the 280 odd miles from somewhere near delhi to the heart of lucknow.
he had wanted to take her to sheesh mahal, she had wanted to go there where his mother’s garden grew…
maa was turning around in a garden looking at him… he was just fourteen, he wanted to run to her, but she was telling him to turn back… someone was waiting for him… he turned and ran toward that person, he couldn’t see her… suddenly he was a man and there was khushi… why was the bus hurtling toward her! khushi, look out!

he started to run…

“sir, we should be there in half an hour,” captain raina’s voice came over the p.a. system. asr looked at his watch, it was almost seven in the evening.

***

the water pulled him down. the weight had landed on him out of nowhere. he could feel the rush of cold water surging up as he and the weight spiraled downward.

 
with herculean effort he pushed against the flow and kicked with his legs till he felt an upward movement return… he was going toward the surface of the pool now, the sun was glimmering out there, its circumference wavy and constantly moving as he looked through the water.

he was out at last, he took big gulps of air feeling his lungs release and swell. he whipped off his goggles to see what he was holding… the thing that had fallen on him.

and he saw her. her frightened eyes… trembling lips. it was a girl.

***

he reached up and tried to touch her face, wipe away the water… but she wasn’t here. he had been thinking of that first time he had seen her… he remembered so many things…
he was not giving up. “no khushi, i won’t let anyone hurt you, can you hear me?”

***

(warning: this section is fairly adult in nature, read only if you’d like to.)

he moved inside her… slowly, stroking upward, touching her in the places that made her moan, quiver, arch up… needing him, enjoying him more.

his hand glided down from the curve of her waist along her smooth graceful side to her hips, turning to cup her firm buttock… it fit his hand perfectly… and draw her closer. a little sound escaped her lips, he smiled and turned to look at her.

he never tired of watching her as he made love to her. there was a joy he could not explain in making her happy, seeing her feel extreme and absolute pleasure, in breaking into an orgasm with her… or after her, having seen her reach a high. she sometimes smiled at that moment… he knew this was a picture he’d always carry in his soul. soul… did he even believe in such a thing.

he had never equated what he had always thought of as sex with anything like this. he sometimes felt they were going past a barrier, a horizon that bound reality… he felt a closeness, a melding with khushi where all lines between them seemed to disappear. it was a strange feeling, one he had not sensed before… it made him feel whole and true… eternal.

he knew she was nearing climax. her eyes were half closed, her chin thrust upward and out a little, her lips were parted, her breath came in short quick bursts, her arms were spread out on either side, long and lissome, he loved her flowing contours… her arms had just turned and she was clutching the bedsheets… her body was moving to his rhythm and her skin was damp, especially where the pulse beat at her throat. he lightly bit her just there, then kissed a trail down to her breast. a taut, pert nipple brushed against his cheek, he laughed and rubbed his stubble on her breast playfully. she jerked below him… and then he could feel her beginning to move differently… she had reached a limit… he waited to see that smile.

***

“arnav ji!” she whispered… she sat in the dark room on the floor, her knees drawn up, arms hugging them close. she knew where she was… she knew who had brought her here… her body had felt his disgusting hands and she had known him despite the blindfold.

they had gagged her and tied her hands, covered her eyes all the way from the dhaba till here.

then her mouth and hands were untied, the blindfold was off, and the lights turned out… only a dim lamp stood vigil by the four poster bed. she had heard the men leave… all she remembered was a knock on the door when she came out after her bath, refreshed and clean… all set for arnav ji to come back. she had cooked him a honeymoon lunch… her surprise. with his favourite bharwa karela, channa daal, poori, aloo tikiya, sugar free gajar halwa and yes, chicken tikka, just the way he liked it. at home she had so wanted to talk to nani ji about making a little chicken and other non-vegetarian things she knew he loved. but he had been adamant. in no way was he going to unsettle the household, make nani ji and the elders uncomfortable. they knew he, akash, even di liked to eat meat or fish at times… and they never interfered with that, as long as none was cooked at home. nani ji was a woman of immense grace and wisdom… she also knew how to accept the changes time demanded.

he loved and respected her deeply. and he knew, if asked, she would say “yes” but that was because she loved him, not because she was comfortable with the idea. and so, khushi had never talked to nani ji. she was waiting to see his face when she served him his lunch… she felt a deep satisfaction when she saw him relish his food, he would eat quickly, and just the amount he felt was right, then he’d lick his fingers in that precise way of his. it always thrilled her in a strange sort of way.

she heard the knock and hurried to open the door, a smile on her face. the sunlight hit her eyes as the door swung open… “aap aa…?” you’re here, she was about to say that when a large cloth enveloped her head, and she smelled something, then she passed out.

when she came to, she was in some sort of a vehicle… there was a low hum, and it was all very smooth.

she couldn’t make out what it might be… till it began to dawn on her… this must be a plane, an aeroplane. khushi had never been in a plane in her life…

she felt herself go limp and the only way to calm her terrified senses was to blank out. khushi started thinking of jalebis and kabooters and icecream. uttaradhikari… she giggled as she remembered.

she had to survive this thing she knew… she would not let the darkness bother her, because he was there somewhere… she was not alone… she was never alone… not any more. he was hers and he was there and he would come and get her… no matter what.

“arnav ji! can you hear me?” she asked silently, sitting petrified on the hard, hand polished marble floor. she wondered if he could see stars from where he was.

***

he saw the twinkling lights spread across the sky… stars are inanimate objects many lightyears away from earth, they twinkle because of perfectly logical, scientifically explainable reasons and they do not communicate with us. he knew this was the case and yet, he no longer asked himself to be perfectly and purely rational all the time… once you have felt love, it gets a little hard to do so, he realised, especially if you happen to adore a girl called khushi kumari gupta singh raizada.

“yes, khushi, i can see the stars,” he was talking to himself without even knowing he was… “don’t worry, tum theek ho? i will come and get you… okay…?” he said it in that easy confident tone of his, his “okay” short and almost impatient, like the man in a hurry it belonged to.

(don’t worry, are you okay? i will come and get you, okay?)
he thought she said, “hum jaantey hain… humey vishwas hai.”

(i know, i have faith.)

he buried his face in his hands then and everything went dark and concentrated for a second.
 

index

chapter 24

not cut out for love: chapter 15

 
he walked into shantivan looking grim and aloof. his lips were pursed tight and he walked ahead completely unaware of om prakash who had opened the door for him and greeted him with a smile, taking his brief case and laptop from him. he didn't even see the whole family sitting in the drawing room, he saw nothing, he didn't want to see anything now, he needed to be by himself... to not feel what he was feeling.

"bitwa, aap aa gaye?" nani ji's voice interrupted him.

(son, you're back?)

he looked at her with a distracted air and said, "yes, nani ji, but i have lots of work, i'll go to my room..."

he barely looked at the others.

"oh chhotey!" di got up and started hobbling toward him, "come and sit for a bit... om prakash, hari prakash se kahiye chhotey saab ke liye ek coffee laaney!"

(tell hari prakash to bring a coffee for chhotey saab.)

she could see he was looking tired, she stroked his cheek the way she always did, her way of communicating love and her right even perhaps to be this close to him. no one was allowed to cross a line with arnav singh raizada. except his di. he had great regard and love for his nani ji, he loved his mama and mami too and akash was important to him. he trusted and respected shyam but essentially because he made di happy.

only di was part of his innermost circle, with an unspoken claim on him as it were. there was nothing he could deny her really.

but today, he needed to be alone.

"di!" he held her hand and gave a tight smile, "bahut tired hoon, akela rehna chahta hoon..."

(di, am very tired, want to be alone.)

anjali was about to protest when her husband said from where he was sitting next to nani ji, playing chess with her, "arrey ranisahiba, let saaley saab go and relax a bit... he will come and sit with us later, what's the problem..."

asr knew if there's one person di would listen to that was jija ji, he looked at shyam and smiled, before turning away...

"but chhotey, you are looking so..." di began to say something.

asr could feel a suffocation begin to rise in him and walked away swiftly.

"hello hi bye bye, arnow bitwa is what happening? my bitwa lookings bhery bad, so good lookings eej my boy... but kaahey itna paresaan, aall color phrom phacewa phadings... tomaarrow pooja, sasuma, agar hamaar arnow ka kuchh huwi gawa..." mami ji couldn't help herself, she had to get melodramatic looking at her nephew's state.

("hello hi bye bye, what's happened to arnav bitwa? my bitwa is looking bad, so good looking is my boy... but why is he so hassled, all the colour from his face has faded... the pooja is tomorrow, if something happens to our boy...)

"manorama!!" hemangini singh raizada had to mind her loud and not at all subtle daughter in law.

anjali's eyes filled with tears at the mention of their parents' annual memorial pooja... why did it not hurt less even after so many years.


***


he stood by the french window looking out at the night, the play of water in the pool outside. he could feel heat rising up his chest, his breath, his ears, the back of his eyes felt hot. he closed his eyes... it was agony.

he couldn't bear to think of her with someone else.

he just couldn't bear to see her smiling at jean pierre. and knowing her, she was going to smile and giggle too.

damn. couldn't the girl have a serious, morose face. why must she smile!

his teeth gritted. he wanted to drag her into her arms and kiss her senseless. he wanted to hear her whimper as she started to kiss him back, her tiny little tongue, searching for his. he wanted to crush her to him and feel her arms go around him, at first a little shy, then completely possessive. he wanted to push his body against her till there was nothing between them, he wanted to inhale her fragrance, taste her skin, get completely lost in her and never let go. he wanted to see her smile at him with drowsy large hazel eyes filled with joy.

he wanted her and...

khushi!

he shook his head in despair.

his hand reached up and long lean fingers started slowly loosening his tie. one by one he took off all his clothes, then leaving everything where it was, on the floor, on his lounger, his tie hanging from the foot of the bed, he walked naked to his walk in wardrobe and pulled on swimming briefs.

he went out to the courtyard and plunged into the pool. he needed to feel water, cool and soothing around him. he needed to focus and feel the rhythm of a powerful swim. he needed calm, he needed shut out from all those feelings, from all that he wanted.

khushi!

his eyes were closed as he swam the familiar length of his pool. he could easily do fifty laps, but tonight he didn't stop, he kept going. he needed to forget everything, even the count of laps.


***

she dressed carefully for her first evening out. she had never done this before and there was an excitement in her, a curiosity.

bua ji had been completely taken aback when khushi told her that she would be going out for dinner with a frenchman called jon piye ji.

"hain! naahin, sanka devi, naahin, how can i let you go out like this with someone i don't even know... and that too a man... humey pata nahin kaun piye ji... ee kaun piye ji ke saath tum kahin naahin jaoge haan, hai re nand kissore..." buaji had gone off at high speed and high decibel.

(what! no, sanka devi, no, how can i let you go out like this with someone i don't even know... and that too a man... i don't know "who drank ji"... with this "who drank ji" you are not going anywhere, hai re nand kissore...)

"kaun piye ji nahin, bua ji, jon piye ji..." khushi tried to interject and calm her aunt a bit.

(not "who drank ji", bua ji, jon piye ji...)

"jauno bhi piye ji..." bua ji dashed in, "i don't care, who drank, who didn't drink, who may or may not drink, none of all that is of any concern to me, but sanka devi, i am responsible for you while you are here... not letting you go, bas..."  bua ji was adamant.

(whoever may have drunk ji...)

"bua ji," payal had just walked in, she seemed to look radiant khushi noted, "i know jon piye ji, bua ji... he is a very nice man..." payal would never forget jean pierre putting lavanya in her place when she'd called her little sis "behenji".

"khushi will be absolutely safe with him, and bua ji, there are so many new things we are both doing these days, aur ek sahi? one should have new experiences, na, bua ji? so that one can always manage in this life... no matter what." payal was telling bua ji something she loved to say to the girls herself.

(there are so many new things we are both doing these days, why not one more?)

at this madhumati went suddenly completely silent. her thoughts veered instantly to her days alone when her husband passed away suddenly and she had to manage in this city all by herself. she didn't have children or relatives here. many suggested that it may make more sense to go back to lucknow where her brother lived and whom she loved dearly. but madhumati realised she had crossed a line already, she had come out of where she was, and going back was no longer possible.

not because of any other reason, simply because she didn't want to.

when she had married her husband and moved here, the big bursting city, so different from her smaller, safer, courteous and still caught in nawabi airs lucknow, she had been scared.

but delhi had taken her to a new world... a huge colourful whirl of throbbing energy, chaotic vibrancy, and robust raucous fun. the city was very often minus the tehzeeb of lucknow, rough and rude it was, unsafe too, but yet it beckoned, it shone, and how it tempted. madhumati had learned so much in those early years about managing this beast. how much she had enjoyed passing each test, and how much she had changed and strengthened from within.

when it seemed like it was the most rational thing to move back to her hometown, which she loved even now, and sometimes more than delhi... she couldn't bring herself to go, to leave this city.

she had become a part of delhi, it a part of who she was.

and she did not regret a single moment of this transformation.

girls leave home when they marry in our country, she thought, and have to tackle so many things including that whole thing called sasural, the in laws' home and family. and not that every husband will be a good husband, nor every situation easy... her khoosie bitiya had suffered greatly at such a young age, but look at her, how she smiled and sparkled and fought back... ok, perhaps it was not such a bad idea to let her try this new experience... only what about this kaun piye ji, i mean who names a child "who drank"? what sort of parents... or maybe in that foreign language, what was it? yes, french... maybe in that language it meant something else...

khushi put on her tiny red meenakari and gold jhumkas and wondered what made bua ji change her mind. one minute she was screaming "no", and then suddenly, she was fine with her going out with jon piye ji, as long as she was back home by ten thirty.

she also told khushi to eat something and go just in case the food at the restaurant was not nice... these hotels and things, what did they know about good food.

payal came and stood by khushi, she had a small smile peeping out every now and then.

"jiji, what's the matter? why are you smiling so much today? where did you go? the mandir or the market...?" khushi asked as she gave her hair one last brush, she had left it open and it fell straight and thick over her back, up to her hips, a few strands fanned out framing her delicate oval face. khushi combed her short bangs and tucked them behind her ears... she suddenly felt a long shuddering breath go through her, she so wanted to feel arnav ji's slightly rough fingers pushing her hair back.

why did she think of that man in the middle of all this! she was flustered.

"no, khushi, i went to er... achha, i'll tell you when you come back... okay? this red saree really suits you... so pretty you're looking.." payal gave her sister's shoulders a tight squeeze, "jp ji will be fall flat..."

khushi began to smile back, though she wished a nasty man could see her in her red saree. and fall flat... literally, she grimaced.

and how did he know she had eaten a lot in the middle of the night?

how? he wasn't here. or... was that slight breeze that had shifted devi maiyya's chunari...?

no no... what was she thinking...

and anyway she was going out with jon piye ji... her first time, what did they call it? yes, her first date.

she got up and reached for her tiny gold clutch purse, then said, "wish me luck, jiji, aate hain..." and walked out to the living room to say bye to bua ji. outside she could see jon piye ji had arrived.

to her surprise, he got out of the car and came in, in his hands a bouquet of lovely pink roses and some feathery white flowers plus a couple of other nicely wrapped things.

"namaastey, booaa zhi," he said to bua ji, then he handed her the bouquet with a cute grin.

you could tell from the way the older lady smiled that she was completely enamoured. "aao aao, kaun piye ji..." khushi lifted her hand to halt her aunt, utterly embarrassed. but jp was totally at ease.

(come, come, who drank ji...)

"booaa zhi, thank you for letting me take khushi out... please do not worry, i weel take good care of 'er, and 'ave 'er back by eleven? ees zat okay?" his accent seemed even more pronounced.

bua ji happily forgot her ten thirty curfew and said, "oph course, oph course, bitwa... take your time, haan? bitiya, jaao, habhe fun..."

jean pierre turned to payal and gave her a spray of yellow roses, "good to see you, payal, 'ope all well wiz you?"

payal smiled and thanked him.

"and zees for you, my dear," he handed khushi a single red rose. khushi looked at the darkly lovely rose and felt a twinge in her heart... red frangipanis and a hand pushing back her hair went through her mind.

she gave jp a wide bright smile.


***

when they walked into the imperial hotel, khushi couldn't believe her eyes. such elegance and grandeur, such a sense of history, uff this reminded her of those mahals in lucknow, like the sheesh mahal hotel...

her heart beat a tremor at a different pace for a second. black silk shirt, orange jalebis stuck on it, syrup dripping, a pair of furious eyes. she swallowed.

why was she beginning to feel this was not right for some reason. she looked at jean pierre as he spoke to the captain about their reservation. she told herself to not act ridiculous, and enjoy the evening. beside jon piye ji was a good man, a friend, she was not going to do anything to make him feel bad. how sweet he had been to bua ji, and how understanding.

it was a large restaurant but a sense of privacy had been created around the tables with lighting and other things. the tables were not crowded together, instead enough space had been wasted to give a sense of luxury. the colours were dark and muted, the lights were low, candles flickered on the tables, courteous waiters moved around silently, taking orders and bringing laden trays. once in a way, there came a sizzler on a hot plate with a plume of white steam.

the tables were arrayed around a dance floor and a slightly raised stage where the band played. when they entered, the crooner was singing a slow love song, a few couples swayed to her heady number on the floor. khushi stared.

she had never seen this sort of dancing before. there was something mysterious and a bit dangerous about it... how close some of the dancers held each other, and how gracefully they seemed to move. in salman ji's films there was a lot of dancing, and khushi loved dancing herself, kathak was what she had learned, also such fun to do all the bollywood moves at sangeets, those hum aapke hain kaun songs, she liked desi girl and the kal ho na ho songs too, pity those films did not have salman ji...

but this was not like that at all.

khushi watched as a waiter came to the table beside theirs with a stand and what looked like a bucket attached to its top. he set it down as another waiter walked up with a big bottle, he showed it to the guest, then a few flicks of the wrist and "pop" went something. khushi saw all at the table cheer, and a little bit of the drink gush out of the bottle...

"shawn-paan-ye, or as most people say, sham-pain," said jean pierre looking at her curious eyes and touched by this lovely young woman sitting across from him, "zat's champagne, khushi, from my country," he winked. "we are ze experts at making very very goood alcohol... but i know you do not dreenk, in fact ahhnav said..."

khushi had been listening to him, shawn-paan-ye, how nice it sounded. shawn-paan-ye... ahhnav?!!! what was jon piye ji saying?

"what did arnav ji say?" khushi asked, a slight note of anger in her voice.

"nothing, just zat, you don't dreenk alcohol, and you like indian food... so i chose zees restaurant..." jp had noticed that edge in her voice.

"what does he know about me, bade aaye laad governor, and who is he to interfere," khushi mumbled and then said clearly, "jon piye ji, i want to try some of your country's very very good alcohol, and thank you for choosing to eat my country's food... also very very good..."(what does he know about me, ha know it all laad governor, and who is he to interfere...)

she remembered arnav ji telling her to go GO with any man she wanted. so he had known jon piye ji was taking her out.

khushi felt a storm of restlessness within. just then the champagne arrived and she watched agog as the cork came off the nozzle of the bottle with force, then bubbly pale liquid came pouring out, glasses were filled and jean pierre raised his as he said, "to ze beautiful khushi," he signaled her to take her first sip.

khushi looked at the tall narrow champagne flute, thought what a strange looking glass and took a huge gulp instead. that storm needed to be settled.

she finished the whole glass in one long very long sip. aaah, such a light lemony taste. and fizz, mmm on her nose she'd felt them as she drank. she smiled at jp, she wanted some more.

as the food arrived, khushi could feel herself begin to relax. she ate merrily, loving the spicy taste. jean pierre had asked for a mild chicken curry and was pleasantly surprised by the delicate cashew and saffron flavoured murgh shahjani korma.

khushi loved the brinjal curry, bagara baingan from the south, almost as good as aunty janaki's she thought. and remembered the snack of the night before and the breeze on devi maiyya's chunari, and a man's glittering eyes.

she shut hers instinctively.

she really needed to get away from these thoughts.

"dance?" jean pierre's voice brought her.

he was standing in front of her, a hand held out, palm up, inviting...

she let her hand slip into his and stood up. he led her to the dance floor, held her right hand lightly in his left, his right arm went around her and rested on her back. she put her left hand hesitantly on his pale cream shirt, then feeling a sense of comfort, she allowed it to sit nicely on his shoulder. they started moving to the beat. jp was a fluid dancer, he knew many steps it seemed to her, she followed his lead and started to get into the swing of things. soon he had her jiving, albeit not too fast and she was laughing, happy, oh she was glad she had decided to come... maybe they should have some more shawn-pan-ye...

"how about another shawn-paan-ye, jon piye ji?" khushi said, a little giggly by now.

"um, khushi, maybe after the next course, come let me show you a move..." jean pierre demurred.

"okay! show me!" khushi grinned.

she saw jean pierre look up at someone behind her, and he opened his mouth as if to say something.

"would you mind, jp, if i had a dance with your... partner?" there was only one voice in the whole world that made her heart leap like that. the husk grazed the back of her neck and went straight to her head. she blinked and spun around.

arnav ji was standing there, even in the low light she could see his eyes, his hair, his smile... he was smiling at jean pierre, not looking at her.

"ah, ahhnav, you are here, how nice, of course not... provided of course, my partner does not have a phoblame," jp was a bit surprsied to see asr, but thought maybe he had a business dinner, plus how would arnav know which restaurant he had decided to take khushi to.

khushi was trying hard to quieten her racing heart, and say "no, i don't want to dance with you," but before she could manage all that, jp had walked away and a steely hard arm was pulling her close.

she closed her eyes and tried to struggle.

"khushi! stop it, dammit!" he said in a fierce whisper. she opened her eyes and saw his black silk shirt. she looked up at him... from this angle, she could see his strong neat chin, his firm jaw, the unyielding jawbone stirred her, the nose standing straight and proud, and dark dark eyes, a glitter in them as he lowered his gaze to look at her gazing at him.

the fight went out of her. she leaned against him, her hand found his shoulder and she stroked the thick smooth silk...

he started moving with her across the floor. he neither crushed her against him in a tight embrace, nor held her away, just face to face, at touching distance but not quite touching, and glided gracefully leading her easily, when he let go of her waist and held her arm a little higher she knew he wanted her to twirl and she did so feeling a freedom in her, then he caught her back, and they moved together once more... his eyes never left her face.

the song ended and he stopped, she looked at him and said, "more," then she hiccuped.

"you've drunk...!" he hissed.

"hmm" she giggled, "shawn-paan-ye!"

"what! i told jean pierre.." he started angrily...

"who are you to... aap kaun hotey hain... to tell anyone about what to do or not with me? i am nobody to you, remember, sir... nahin nahin, arnav ji..." she was slurring a bit, her eyes felt heavy, "you told me... nobody... i mean nothing... nothing..."

asr gathered her close to him, and started to walk toward the table. he helped her sit down and said to jean pierre, "i don't think she is going to last too long, jp, maybe you should take her home...now!"

before jean pierre could respond, he turned and walked out.


***

he reached home seething. she had decided to go out, so let her handle it, he said to himself with a nasty snarl.

the next moment he was fretting, had they reached lakshminagar? jp was a decent guy, and he knew what to do in these situations... but at her bua ji's, what if she was out of control... what if...

no, he had to make sure... he didn't want to do something wrong, galat, and crash into someone's date. bad form... no he was not going to do that. he had asked aman to find out which restaurant jean pierre had reservations at just because he wanted to make sure she was alright...

oh heck no, it was because he had wanted to see her...

why, why did she do this to him?

how beautiful she looked, he wanted to kill jp. he wanted to throttle her.

he had almost reached his room when he changed his mind and started to run back toward the main door.

just then the phone rang, he answered quickly... a little panic in his voice,

"khushi?!!"

"arnav ji?" she sounded tearful.

damn.

he would kill jp.

but first, he had to know what was wrong.

"yes, darling, what is it? tum theek ho?"

(yes, darling, what is it? are you alright?)

"hmm... nahin...aap...? hum aapke koi nahin hain? koi bhi nahin? koi maine nahin rakhte?"

(hmm... no... you...? i am no one to you? no one at all? i mean nothing to you?)

she was sounding upset, tremulous, and very drunk.

"where are you?" he asked, even as he got into the car and started the ignition.

"at home, i am talking to devi maiyya... and you..."

"okay, khushi, don't move, stay there, i am coming..." he was already picking up speed...

"kyun? why? i am nobody... koi bhi nahin..." she stopped suddenly.

she had rung off.

"what the... f!" damn, he slammed the steering wheel.


****

she was sitting just the way she'd been the night before and he could see her through the open window. now he realised she was chatting with her devi maiyya.

he got out of the car and walked quietly up to the window.

"khushi!" he whispered so as not to wake up the household.

she looked up and saw him, she brought her finger to her lips and went "shh!" then she stood up and on tiptoe, swaying just a bit, she went to the main door and opened it. she stepped out and closed the door behind her and turned to him...

her hair was still open and she had not changed, though the saree was disheveled, her pallu was almost slipping off.

he stepped forward and lifted the folds of red chiffon and put it on her shoulder. she smiled at him in a bemused way and waited as if for something.

"khushi," there was a calm in his voice, he was relieved to see she was alright...

"it's late, sweetheart, go back inside... listen to me, go in, change and lie down on your bed... i'll wait here outside till you go to sleep. okay, khushi?"

"nahin okay khushi..." said she, "arnav ji, you look so handsome in that black silk shirt..." she blinked at him quite inebriated and smiled woozily. then she simply walked over and snuggled into him... "koi nahin hain hum aapke...?"

(i am nobody to you..?)

"oh khushi!" his arms felt her pliant small frame, he held her close to him and stood there. he had missed this so much.

"arnav ji, take me somewhere with you... kahin bhi..." she said and he couldn't hold back any more. he lifted her up and took her to the suv, made her sit, pulled the seat belt and locked it in place knowing she may not be able to manage herself.

"where do you want to go?" he asked gently.

"aapke paas..." she murmurred, her head trying to reach his shoulder.

(to you...)

he drove without a word. when they reached shantivan, he carried her effortlessly into the house, everyone had gone to bed he knew. he took her to his room and out to the poolside. he sat down on the deckchair and pulled her onto his lap. she put her arms around his neck and reached in, he felt her lips on the side of his neck, just below his ears.

his breath caught in his throat, he felt his whole body jerk and leap at the touch. he began kissing her lips yearning for her to kiss him back, to push her tongue into his mouth. his hands moved over her body, found her bare skin where the blouse ended, he thrust his palm against her soft, taut skin and pulled her even closer.

she was hurt, he realised, very badly hurt by that brutal attack of his the last day in bali... you mean nothing to me, he had said... he had so wanted to believe that.

he murmured incoherently as he started kissing her face, her cheeks, her eyes, her straight little nose...

she turned his head and offered her lips again...

her eyes were half closed, but he could see both her desire and her intoxicated state in what was visible of her hazel orbs. he knew she was not in her senses and he couldn't take advantage.

he struggled to gain composure. she lay down on top of him and said, "arnav ji, hold me..." she started to unbutton his shirt, she wanted to put her ear against his heart, she wanted to hear his heart beat...

he held her hand and tried to stop her, but she wouldn't. soon she had undone all the buttons and his shirt was being pushed aside. she put her hand against his heart and listened intently. her hand moved over his bare chest, her fingers played with the hair springing from where his chest started and tapering all the way down disappearing below the waistband of his trousers. he could feel her fingers going to places that perhaps they shouldn't.

"khushi!" he groaned, holding and staying her hand once more.

she looked down at him her eyes riven with an unnamed emotion, her hair cascaded and swung forward, he looked into her eyes and felt himself getting swept away.

"khushi," he sighed, and let go of her hand. she brought it up to his cheek and stroked his stubble. she was smiling slightly and in the light of the moon and the night she seemed ethereal, a vision, that was precious and ephemeral.

he dragged her to him and started kissing her then. he reached down and drew her hips close to his, thrusting against her... she pressed back against him and tugged his hand to her breast. her breasts were firm and sheathed in the tight silk blouse, he moved quickly, unbuttoning her blouse and slipped his hand underneath, at last cupping her breast. he could feel the swell of her tender breast against his palm, cool soft skin against his warm slightly calloused one. he could feel her nipple hard and beautiful on his fingers... he bent down and kissed the milky white translucent skin of her breast, she held his head and shivered, he put his mouth on her nipple, his tongue tasted her innocent puckered skin, he drew her nipple into his mouth. she threw her arms around him convulsively holding him to her...

he played with her breast, her nipple, kissing, biting, just brushing his lips against her skin. she was his. that's all he knew. why he had no idea nor how, but she belonged to him... and in her arms he felt something he hadn't for so so long.

peace. a huge complete peace.

"khushi! you do mean something to me... i have no idea why, but you do..." he gently kissed her lips, then her eyelids, he smiled and looked at her and whispered, "samjhi tum?"

(do you understand?)

he could see her eyes were drowsy with sleep now. she seemed to be at peace too. he let her head fall on his shoulder and stroked her hair till she fell asleep.


***
she woke up the next morning in her bed. she was still in her saree. she remembered she had gone out with jon piye ji... they had danced... her head was aching a bit... oh yes, they had had shawn-paan-ye... then laad governor had come... he was wearing a black shirt just like that day in sheesh mahal... and she had called him... he had come...

she had gone out of the house to meet him because she so wanted him to hold her. she blushed beetroot red remembering that.

then what had happened?

yes, she was on that deckchair by his pool... she was kissing him... and drawing his hand to her... what!!!

she remembered everything in a flash.

she took a pillow and covered her face and groaned loudly.

hey devi maiyya, what had she done.

how would she ever face that awful man.

she peeped out from behind the pillow and her eyes fell on a little bunch of red frangipani.


***

he woke up full of pain and that torn feeling in him. it was maa's death anniversary. again the pooja they did every year. it brought peace to di and nani ji, so he attended and did his best to believe in this whole thing. but the emptiness echoed terribly inside, many times magnified.

he breathed in deeply.

he thought of khushi's face in the moonlight, her pearly smooth breast.

he knew nothing would bring him peace today.

a funny thought went through his head, would maa have liked this crazy girl? again he remembered her warm giving body, her trusting eyes. he got up and started getting ready. he could still smell the fragrance of her hair mixed with the frangipani.

as he'd carried khushi out, his eyes had fallen on the vase with frangipani di had set in the hallway. he couldn't help but take some and put on her hair.

index

chapter 16