149. OS: 7: The Other Woman

This is all SEGAD’s doing! This is her Write OS Challenge. I accept!

Section 1

“Chotey, I think your Jiju is having an affair,” Anjali said, her eyes brimming with tears threatening to fall in to the pooja thali in her hands.

“What the!” exclaimed Arnav, looking up from his open briefcase. He was packing to go to Agra for a two-day meeting.

Anjali nodded. A tear fell on the heap of flowers in the thali.

“I...” Arnav shook his head in acute doubt. “Di, I seriously think you are mistaken. Jiju would never...”

“No, Chotey. It is history repeating itself. Shyamji...like Papa....” Anjali choked to a halt.

Arnav stared at her in horror.

“Phone calls at odd hours....He does not let me answer his phone. He is always at the office...says he is busy...always working late...Chotey...” Anjali wept.

Arnav abandoned his files and walked up to Anjali. He took the thali from her and set it aside. Then he caught hold of her shoulders and tried to talk some sense in to her. “Di, Jiju is a good lawyer and a busy one. He might be working. The calls might be official...”

Anjali shook her head tearfully.

“Did you ask him about your suspicions, Di?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I am scared, Chotey,” she whispered.

Arnav stared at her, helpless. "Who? I mean, who is the girl?"

 “The calls...Most of them are from a Khushi,” she revealed.

“Khushi?” Arnav frowned. He had never heard the name before.

“She is a new employee at Shyamji’s office. I think...I think Shyamji and Khushi...,” Anjali croaked.

“Di,” Arnav looked at her devastation, not knowing how to make everything right for his Di as he had been doing all his adult life.

“Chotey, get rid of her. She must be luring my Shyamji, enticing him in to her web with her eyes on our money. Chotey, please make everything alright, as it was before Khushi came in to our lives,” Anjali demanded of her brother, tears wetting her cheeks.

“Di, tum chinta mat karo. I will take care of you,” he tried to calm her down.

“Chotey, I am scared,” she whispered, throwing herself in to her Chotey’s arms and weeping.

“Di, please don’t cry. Di, please. I will see to this,” he promised rashly.

“I knew it. I knew my papad ka tukda would not abandon me in my moment of need,” Anjali dried her cheeks.

Section 2

Arnav looked at Shyam with his sharp eyes.

Jiju was eating his dinner in a disinterested manner, a frown on his face. Every once in a while his eyes strayed to the phone by his plate on the dining table.

The phone rang.

Shyam fell on the phone with an eagerness he did not hide.

Arnav’s lips tightened in annoyance.

“Yes, Khushi?” Shyam whispered as he hurriedly left the table excusing himself.

Arnav imitated him and followed him to the hall.

“I will get there in ten minutes, Khushi. No, no, don’t leave. I will meet you in ten minutes,” Shyam whispered urgently in to the phone.

Arnav frowned. Was his Di right? Was Jiju having an affair with this Khushi? Must be some middle-class girl out to make her fortune by trapping a married man, he thought bitterly, his lips twisted in contempt.

He would have to deal with this Khushi, protect his Di and her marriage from her.

Section 3

Arnav walked in to Shyam’s office when he knew for certain that Shyam was at the court.

Sharmaji, Shyam’s main clerk saw him and approached him, smiling. “Raizadaji, did you come to meet Shyamji? He is at court.”

“Yes,” Arnav said softly. “When will he be back?”

“It will take at least one more hour,” the elderly man said apologetically. “Is it anything urgent? Can I pass on a message to him?”

“I need to see him,” Arnav said. “I will wait here.”

Sharmaji smiled. “Very good, Raizadaji. Please come with me.”

The man led him to a posh waiting room with plush seating. “I will arrange for sugarless tea and biscuits for you.”

Arnav nodded his thanks. He placed his bag on the table. “The office looks busy, thriving. How many people work here now?” he asked casually.

“Five clerks,” Sharmaji smiled. “Twenty junior lawyers and Khushi for answering the phone and keeping the office organised.”

“Khushi?” Arnav frowned.

“Ji, Khushi Kumari Gupta. She joined us a month back,” Sharmaji smiled. “She is a blessing.”

Arnav clenched his jaw but managed to nod.

Sharmaji left him alone to think. Maybe Di was wrong. Maybe he had misunderstood Jiju’s conversation with the girl. Maybe Di was paranoid... He leaned back in the chair, exhausted with work and worry. Maybe Khushi had nothing to do with all this. Maybe they were barking up the wrong tree...the Khushi tree...the tree of happiness...

The door opened slowly.

A tray with tea came in to his vision. Then two arms and part of a colourful blue suit. Two colourful jootis with coloured stones stuck on them.

His brows hit his hair line.

He looked up. A full figure...a tight blue suit...a neck that tempted him to throw caution to the winds and bite his teeth in to its succulent flesh there...and a face that blew his breath away.

He stood up slowly.

Khushi looked at him with wide eyes.

Sharmaji had said that Shyamji’s saalesaheb was in the waiting room and that she had to serve him sugarless tea and biscoot, but had forgotten to mention how good-looking he was.

Khushi drew in a deep breath of appreciation of his manliness, her nostrils picking up the musky smell of his aftershave.

“You are Shyamji’s saalesaheb?” she asked, smiling, placing the tray before him on the low table.

His eyes burned as they lingered on the lines of her figure as she bent.

“Yes,” he murmured.

His voice made her heart flutter. So husky, so intimate...as though he were whispering scandalous things in her ear.

She gulped.

His eyes followed the movement of her throat.

Before he had seen her, he had doubted that Khushi was involved with his Jiju. But once he had seen her, he was sure that they were in a relationship.

For how could any man resist Khushi?

He walked out, brushing past her, his eyes blazing, his heart on fire, his soul aflame.

Khushi looked at him striding away, her mouth open in an Awww. Why was he running away? she wondered. She hadn’t sung any besura gaana, nor told any bakwaas jokes. He hadn’t even tasted her tea.

Khushi frowned. Was her sight alone enough to drive away men?

In his car, he called Aman.

“Get me everything you can on Khushi Kumari Gupta. She is working for my Jiju, Shyam Manohar Jha,” he bit out.

“Yes, Sir,” Aman said. If he was bewildered, he did not convey it to his boss. He sat down in his chair with a sigh after cutting the call. Now he would have to loiter around Jha’s law office and flirt with kaamwaali baais to get info on some girl!

Aman hit his head with his hand. He should have taken a job with the sewerage department than with AR Designs!

Section 4

He looked down at the meagre details Aman had collected about the femme fatale.

Age 21.

Staying in Laxmi Nagar with an aunt. Has an elder sister.

Laxmi Nagar? His lips twisted. Typical middle class locality.

No parents to keep track of her. Her aunt must be in the game, he thought, prostituting Khushi to get a bigger house in a better locality and a comfortable life.

And she has an elder sister? Must be 22-23 years old and apparently not married yet. A cold light lit his eyes. So she was out to make her family’s fortune through his Di’s husband?

His fingers crushed the harmless paper and pushed it in to his pocket.

ASR waited outside Shyam’s office in a rented car.

Khushi walked out, her cloth bag swinging against her waist, a smile on her face as she watched swallows fly across the sky.

His jaw clenched so tight that his bones were in danger of cracking.

As she reached near the car, he pushed open the door.

Khushi stopped short at the sudden movement. She looked up in to Arnav’s molten eyes.

“Aap?” she stammered, her heart thudding in shock.

He swallowed hard, his eyes on her lips.

“I..I left suddenly today. You must have thought...” Arnav stopped.

Khushi smiled. “Ji, I wondered...Aap ki tabiyat tho theek he na?”

“Yes,” he said. “Err...Khushi, I need to talk to you,” he said.

She frowned. “Talk to me?"

“Yes. It is urgent. Shall I drop you home? We can talk on the way,” he said softly, trying hard to look harmless.

She hesitated.

He was Shyamji’s saalesaheb and so must be trustworthy. And it was something urgent. He couldn’t be a bad man, she told herself.

She nodded slowly.

Arnav released the breath he had been holding. He hadn’t really been looking forward to kidnapping her, which was his only option if she refused to accompany him willingly. This was easier.

“Chalo,” he said, holding the door open for her.

She got in. He took his seat and locked all the doors.

“Wear your seat belt,” he said, his voice soft.

She obeyed him, her ears cocked to enjoy his heart-thrilling voice.

He drove away.

Section 5

“I live in Laxmi Nagar,” Khushi informed him.

He nodded and took the turning away from the city.

“This is not the way to my house,” Khushi told him. “You have to turn left here.” There was a small hint of panic in her voice.

He soothed her. “I thought we could talk in peace for a few moments in a secluded place. I will drop you off at your home after we finish our discussion,” he said. He smiled at her with a lot of effort. “I am afraid it is important. Otherwise I would not have troubled you.”

What could she say in the face of such politeness?

Khushi nodded and curled her nervous fingers around the ends of her dupatta.

It began drizzling.

Arnav stopped the car at the site of his new guest house. The old building was being demolished in stages and there was no one at the site.

He pushed open his door, walked around the car in the drizzling rain and pulled her door open.

He held out his hand.

Khushi looked down. The ground was uneven and had puddles of dirty, brown water. Slowly she placed her hand in his.

His fingers closed around hers like the leaf of a Venus flytrap closing around an insect, trapping it in its sweetly-scented death chamber.

She trembled slightly as she alighted with his help.

He helped her out and without letting go of her hand, led her in to the building.

She looked around at the dilapidated building with wide eyes. “What is this place?” she asked, a tinge of fear in her voice.

“A guest house,” he replied softly. He led her by hand to a room and shut the door after him.

Khushi turned around at the sound of the door closing.

Arnav and Khushi stood facing each other.

As she watched, Arnav vanished and ASR took over. His eyes became cold, cynical. His lips twisted in a smirk. His face became hard. His body language changed in to that of an aggressor.

Khushi jumped. What was happening here? Was she still asleep?

“Who do you think you are?” ASR bit out.

She stared at him for a moment in confusion. Had he forgotten her?

“Khushi K..Kumari Gupta,” she replied, her voice trembling at the edges. “We..we met in the morning...at the office..” she tried to remind him. Why had no one told her that Shyamji’s saalesaheb was mad?

ASR snorted like an angry bull. “Who gave you the right to destroy families, break hearts?” he asked in a scary sibilant whisper.

Khushi frowned. What fault was it of hers that her parents were dead? “I didn’t destroy our family,” she tried to explain. “My parents died in an accident.”

ASR narrowed his eyes. “They are dead? That is good,” he hissed.

Khushi frowned. “Why? Why is it good that they are dead?” she asked curiously.

“They would have died of shame to see what their daughter has grown up to become,” ASR said cuttingly.

Khushi’s face fell. “Yes, you are right,” she sighed.

His eyes zoomed on to her sad, penitent eyes.

“They wanted me to become a doctor, but I am a receptionist at a law firm,” she mourned.

His eyes widened. “What the!” he exclaimed.

She looked at him with all the fascinated curiosity and latent fear of a visitor to a zoo looking at a caged lion.

“Are you mad?” he asked, foaming at the mouth.

She giggled slightly. “Thoda sa. Lekin not as much as you,” she replied.

ASR looked at her in astonishment. What had his Jiju gotten in to?

“Do you have any idea how much pain your thoughtless actions are causing?” he asked, his eyes blazing.

Her face fell. “I know now. I didn’t know before. I realised only when Rameshji started screaming in pain.” She heaved a long sigh of sorrow. “I promised him that I would never trip on a rug and hurt his toe again.”

His mouth fell open.

“What did I know that even a toe can have a fracture?” Khushi thought aloud.

“What the hell are you talking about?” ASR asked, his fists clenched.

“Woh...hamare office mein...Rameshji is the senior clerk just junior to Sharmaji,” she explained. “I was coming out of Shyamji’s office with a few files in my hand. Then Meetaji’s phone rang. Meetaji is junior to Rameshji. Her ring tone is Jumme ki raat he, my favourite song. I turned my head to listen better and then I tripped on the rug on the floor.  The files fell down. I tried to save myself by holding on to the table nearby. My hand hit a heavy glass flower vase on Seemaji’s table and it fell on Rameshji’s foot...” her voice trailed away.

ASR looked in to big eyes filled with remorse, furious at her duplicity.

“I am talking of Anjali Shyam Manohar Jha, my sister, Shyam’s wife, dammit!” ASR shouted.

Khushi frowned. “Anjali Shyam Manohar Jha? I haven’t met her. Aap yakeen keejiye, I have never met her. I have never hurt her toe,” she said, “...or any other part,” she added nervously as ASR began to stride towards her in fury.

Section 6

He caught her by her arms and pushed her against the wall. 

“Then what do you call stealing her husband?” he asked, his face mere inches from hers, his eyes on her trembling lips.

Khushi stared at him open-mouthed.

“Stealing her husband? Shyamji? How can anyone steal Shyamji? Is he a necklace to be stolen? He is a man. He was in the office today morning. I saw him. Woh gayab ho gaya? When? What?” she asked in wonder.

He shook her till her teeth rattled, angry with himself for his fascination for the other woman in his sister’s life.

“Aap...hamein..chodiye....” she tried to say in between the shakes. “Hamein...ulti...aa...jaayegi to...aapki.... khair... nahi...”

He stopped shaking her and pushed her against the wall, his body tensed, the muscles of his arms corded. He brought his face close to hers and threatened in a whisper, “Don’t think you can fool me with your body and your smiles and your eyes and your voice and your pretended innocence.”

Khushi frowned in to his face.

“Shyam is a fool, but I am not,” he stated, trying to remind himself of his iron self-control where women was concerned and the seriousness of the task at hand.

Khushi bristled. “Shyamji is not a fool. Would people wait for hours outside his office door to see him if he were a fool? Don’t say such bad things about him. After all, he is your Jiju!”

ASR saw red. Violent as a bull, he pressed himself in to her softness. “So I can’t badmouth Shyam to you? Kya lagta he woh tumhara?”

“He is my employer,” Khushi panted. “My annadatta. Move away from me, saalesaheb. You are standing on my foot.”

“Your annadatta? Does he give you only anna? What about money? Jewels? Holidays?” ASR tightened his hold on her shoulders and moved closer, pushing his limbs in to the cradle of hers.

Khushi tried to push him away. “Move away, you saalesaheb! How strong you are! What do you eat? Iron?” Her fragile arms could not make him budge an inch. “Of course he gives me money. I work for my salary. Jewels? Why should he give me jewellery? Am I his daughter for him to give me jewellery? Holidays? Of course he gives the whole office a holiday on Sundays,” Khushi explained.

“You work for your salary?” ASR’s eyes glowed with hatred and arousal. “What kind of ‘work’ do you do for him, Khushi Kumari Gupta?”

“I answer the phone...” her voice trailed away as his hands moved down her arms. “I..I arrange the files in order...” she gasped as his fingers took over her waist and burned her skin through her suit.

“That is not your real work, is it? Your real vocation is to make him comfortable, isn’t it?” he jeered, his fingers squeezing the supple skin of her deliciously curved waist.

“What?” Khushi frowned. “Suniye,  I can’t understand you. I want to go home. Buaji and Jiji will be waiting for me. They will be worried.”

“Call them. Tell them that you are making Arnav Singh Raizada ‘comfortable’. I am sure they will let you stay out with me once they know that I am a millionaire many times over, far, far richer than your Shyamji,” he murmured, his lips close to hers.

“Aap kya bak rahe ho?” Khushi asked, seriously worried and confused. “Are you taking medicines? Have you missed a check-up recently? And let go of my waist,” she said, squirming.

ASR shouted quietly, “You can sleep with Shyam Manohar Jha, a married man but you won’t let me, a bachelor touch your waist?”

Khushi’s mouth fell open.

“I can give you more of whatever Shyam has been giving you,” he whispered his promise. “More money, more gold, more...fun...”

Khushi’s wide eyes resembled saucers and her mouth remained open like a gasping fish.

He ran a finger down her cheek, savouring the creamy silk.

“What is your going price, Khushi Kumari Gupta?” he asked. There was no anger in his voice, only a mild curiosity.

Section 7

Khushi swallowed her tears. “More than you can afford, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada,” she whispered, her breath touching his stubbled cheek.

His eyebrow went way up in the air. “Really?” he murmured, his eyes devouring her beautiful face and form.

“Really,” she murmured back. “Because you are not saalesaheb. You are saala, pukka saala. A ghatiya man.”

ASR threw back his head and laughed.

“If I am saala, ghatiya for proposing an affair with you, then what would you call Shyam for indulging in it? You will have to invent words to describe your Buaji and your sister who encourage you and support you in this trade,” he drawled sardonically.

She stood shell-shocked for a moment.

“You think...” she tried to swallow. “You think Shyamji and I are...are...involved in an illicit relationship?”

“Yes,” he affirmed.

“And that my family is...is selling me to him for money?” she choked, her direct eyes on his.

“Yes...” he said after a moment.

“Why? Why do you think that there is something between Shyamji and me?” she asked, her eyes directly on his molten ones.

“Frequent phone calls at odd hours from you. Shyam staying away from home on the pretext of working late at his office. Di noticed his distraction and all the signs of his straying...in your direction,” he said, his voice cold.

Khushi looked at him for one long moment in silence.

“What do you do, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada?” she asked.

“I am a businessman,” he said.

“Do you employ ladies?’ she asked.

“Yes,” he said, frowning.

“Do they call you to talk about work?” Her voice was quietly dangerous.

He frowned. “Sometimes,” he admitted.

“Then why can’t you give your Jiju and me the benefit of the doubt?” she asked.

ASR stared at her, silent.

“He is my employer. And he is a busy lawyer with clients from various parts of the country. Why should you doubt your own Jiju for being a good professional?” she asked.

He said, “There is definitely something going on between you two. I heard him talking to you. Don't try to fool me.”

Khushi sighed. “I don't have to fool you, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada. You are a fool all by yourself. So you and your sister imagine there is something between Shyamji and me?" Khushi frowned. "If your sister felt there was something wrong, she must have confronted her husband with her suspicions. What did Shyamji say?” Khushi asked quietly.

“No,” he had to admit. “She didn't ask him. She wanted me to find out...”

Khushi smiled bitterly. “So this is your way of ‘finding’ out? Kidnapping me and accusing me of...”

He swallowed hard.

“I called Shyamji on an official matter. It was urgent, a serious problem that lasted a month. Shyamji did have to be at the office late on many nights to co-ordinate things. There is nothing between him and me,” she said softly.

ASR stared at her.

“But you need proof, don’t you?” she asked, her eyes cold.

He stood still, silent.

Khushi pulled the phone out of her bag and dialled a number.

“Shyamji, I am sorry to disturb you at this time of the evening, but I need to see you urgently,” she said.

ASR could not hear Shyam.

“I am afraid it is a matter of life and death. Where are you, Shyamji?” she asked.

ASR stood watching her.

“At home? Then I am coming to meet you there. I need just one minute of your time,” Khushi cut the call.

 She caught hold of ASR’s hand. “Let’s go to your house and meet my so-called lover, Shyamji. I will give you enough proof to bury you under.”

Section 8

Nani, Mami, Anjali and Shyam looked up as the door opened and Arnav and Khushi walked in.

Mami whispered in Nani’s ear, “Saasumma, lagat he hamre Arnav bitwaa hajj phinally phound the girlwaa to marry.”

“Chup raho, Manorama,” Nani said, her eyes seeing the fire and steel in Khushi’s eyes.

Anjali looked at Khushi and Arnav, her eyes wide.

“Khushi? What is wrong? Why do you want to see me at this hour? Do you need any help?” Shyam asked. “And what is Arnav doing with you?”

Anjali gasped. “Khushi?” she asked softly.

“I came to inform you that I am resigning from my job, Shyamji,” Khushi said softly.

“Resign? Why, Khushi? I thought you were happy there?” Shyam’s face was a picture of confusion. “Did someone scold you? Did Ramesh get angry with you? I will talk to him...”

Khushi shook her head, feeling tears sprout in her eyes at his paternal concern for her.

“You don’t need to talk to anyone about my job. But I do need a favour from you, Shyamji,” she said.

“Anything, Khushi,” Shyam said. “You know I am indebted to you. Do you need money? Or a better-paying job? Or shall I fund your education as I offered to do?”

“No, thank you. Please inform your family why you had to spend many evenings in your office this month and why I had to phone you often. My honour is in question here,” she said.

Shyam’s mouth fell open.

“Your wife thinks you are having an affair with me,” Khushi said bluntly.

All gasped. Shyam turned to look at Anjali with startled eyes.

“She deputed her brother to deal with me,” Khushi explained, sparing a glance at the cold-faced animal standing in attention by her side.

Nani sat down. Mami closed her mouth with her hand. They knew their Arnav bitwaa and his ham-handed ways. A bulldozer could take lessons from him.

Shyam heaved a long sigh.

“Last month I sent a vicious criminal, Lallan to jail. While he was being taken away by the police, he threatened that his brothers would take revenge for his arrest,” Shyam said.

All gasped.

“Shyamji, you never said...you were in danger...” Anjali whispered.

"Damadji!" Nani exclaimed.

“Khushi noticed strange men loitering around the office. She notified me. I informed the police. The CI wanted to catch them red-handed as he believed that they were Lallan’s brothers who were wanted by the police for other crimes but were absconding. So he made me the bait. I needed Sharmaji’s and Khushi’s help to see this though without alarming the other employees. CI Chandramohan Sinha, Khushi, Sharmaji and I worked in tandem to lure the men  in to the open. The plan succeeded. They were arrested a couple of days back,” Shyam explained shortly.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Jiju?” Arnav’s face was pale. He had made an error in judgement and now everyone was going to pay for it.

“This is nothing new, Arnav. There are always cases during which lawyers receive threatening calls and direct warnings. The police had the matter well in hand. And I had no intention of bringing the danger home,” Shyam explained. He turned to Anjali, “Why didn’t you ask me, Anjali? Why did you have to involve Arnav and Khushi?” His voice was quiet but it carried disappointment and disillusionment.

“Woh...woh..I wanted Arnav to investigate...” Anjali stammered, her big eyes filling with tears.

But this time her tears had no effect.

“Are you married to me or to Arnav?” Shyam asked, his face closed.

The Raizadas held their breath, scared that Anjali’s immaturity would finally destroy her life.

“Shyamji,” Anjali tried to soften him.

“Damadji, Anjali bitiyya loves you very much,” Nani tried.

“This is not love, Naniji,” Shyam sighed. “This is fear and insecurity. Your Anjali bitiyya is scared that I am another Arvind Mallik.”

There was perfect silence in the room.

Then Shyam said softly, “My father is Deendayal Kanhaiyalal Jha. He was an honourable man, a good father and a loving and faithful husband. I cannot be anything less than that.”

Mami said, “Damadji, please forgive Anjali bitiyya this time...”

Shyam said, “I married her, Mamiji. I have to put up with her whims and fancies. That is my fate. But this time she involved Khushi and Arnav in it. That is unforgiveable.”

“Damadji,” Nani tried.

“Naniji, aap hamein maaf keejiye. I can’t tolerate this any more. I should have never let her stay here with you after marriage. That was a mistake, bad judgement on my part,” Shyam said, his eyes bitter.

“Jiju,” Arnav said.

Shyam paid no heed to him. “I am moving in to my new house near my office tonight. The interiors are yet to be done. It will take one more month. Once it is finished, I will let Anjali know. If she is interested in starting a new life in her own house, she can join me. Otherwise, it is her choice. You can start legal proceedings as you deem fit,” Shyam said emotionlessly.

All gasped.

“Shyamji, nahi! Please aap mat jaaiye hamein chodkar!” Anjali pleaded.

“Jiju,” Arnav protested.

He turned to Arnav. “I always knew that your sister was harebrained. But you too...?”

Arnav had nothing to say.

“Arnav, you are not Chotey any more. Did you even stop to think how your accusation would affect Khushiji’s life if others got to know about it? She is of marriageable age. She has a sister too. Did it cross your mind what this would do to them if she were innocent?”

“I am sorry, Jiju,” Arnav said softly. His eyes moved to Khushi’s exhausted features. He needed to grovel big-time. “I am sorry, Khushi.”

She turned her head away from him.

“It is not enough, Arnav. You put Khushi’s reputation and my professional life on the line. You and your sister!” Shyam shook his head in disgust.

Anjali began wailing. Nani and Mami rushed to console her.

Shyam and Arnav turned to look at the young girl standing still like a statue in the midst of turmoil.

Shyam folded his hands before Khushi. “Knowing Anjali, I can imagine what and how she must have presented this issue to Arnav. And knowing Arnav, I can imagine how he would have treated you. I am extremely sorry, Khushi. I am ashamed to look you in the face. You put your life in danger for me and I...”

ASR stood there feeling like a worm.

“Shyamji, it is alright. It is not your fault,” she muttered, feeling terrible seeing a man of Shyamji’s stature and age stand before her with his hands folded.

Arnav drew in a deep breath of relief.

“Please don’t resign, Khushi,” Shyam requested. “Everyone in the office thinks highly of you.”

Khushi hesitated.

“It is my heart-felt request,” he begged.

Khushi could only nod. How could she defeat a man whom fate had already vanquished?

“It is time I went home,” Khushi said, exhausted.

“Let me drop you,” Arnav said, his face wan as he watched her. “Please, Khushi.” His voice was soft, penitent.

Khushi nodded. There was much she needed to tell him.

After Arnav & Khushi left, Anjali whispered, “I am sorry, Shyamji.”  Tears flowed down her cheeks and her lips pouted at him.

The pout was wasted on her husband. Shyam sat down, exhausted. “If it were not a sanskaari girl like Khushi, this would have been all around town. Gossip-mongers would have had a field day. I would have been the fraternity’s butt of ridicule.”

“Shyamji,” Anjali tried to cajole him.

“Grow up, Anjali,” Shyam said softly. “I can’t change your past for you. You can’t change your own past. But you can learn to live with it. Take the help of a therapist if you need one. Learn to fight your own demons and your own battles, Anjali. And don’t drag Chotey in to your messes. Let him live. Let him breathe. Or you will destroy his life along with yours and mine.”

Anjali stared at him with wide, wet eyes.

Shyam turned to look at Nani and Mami. “You have mollycoddled her enough, Naniji, Mamiji. Let her take care of herself and please don’t let her strangle Arnav. He deserves to live his own life. He is not Anjali’s appendage.”

Shyam got up and walked up to his room to pack his bag.

Section 9