177. OS 8. One Rainy Night (Part 3)

Part 3

“Tanik thehro, Nandkisore,” Madhumati Gupta called as she waddled to the door to open it. “Who is leaning on the bell so early in the morning?” she mumbled.

She pulled the panels open and stared at the handsome man standing on her doorstep. He was tall, his features fine, his eyes exceptionally attractive. Dressed in an expensive suit, he looked totally out of place on her doorstep.

She stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

Arnav parted his lips, but found himself at a loss for words. How could he ask this lady if she had a niece when he didn’t know her name?

“Kaun ho, bitwaa?” Buaji asked. “Have you lost the way?”

The boy parted his lips again but said nothing. He seemed to be struggling with himself.

She frowned. Maybe he didn’t know Hindi, Buaji thought. But her own English was non-existent.

“Kaa bua, babua?” Buaji asked again. “What do you want?”

‘I want to know if you have a niece who looks like a fairy, a niece who may or may not exist, a niece I may have dropped at your doorstep last night or not, a niece whose name I have no idea of, having forgotten to ask her even after maybe spending hours with her,’ he said in his mind. He looked away from the curious face of the middle-aged lady to gather his thoughts.

Buaji followed his eyes. He was looking at the temple.

“Bitwaa, you want to go to the temple?” Buaji asked helpfully.

Arnav shook his head. He looked helplessly at the lady.

“Are you dumb?” Buaji asked, her heart melting in sympathy.

Arnav’s mouth fell open. “I..I..” he began.

Buaji sighed. So handsome and so hatta katta, but dumb! “Kauno baat naahi, bitwaa. Nandkisore does not give everything to everyone,” Buaji consoled him.

He stared at her, speechless.

“Bitwaa, do you want water?” Buaji asked, seeing signs of strain on his face.

He shook his head, turned away and walked off, feeling disgusted with himself. Why, oh why had he become tongue-tied in the presence of Buaji? He who could utter cutting remarks that could give heart attacks to his employees had lost it in Buaji’s presence! How would he look for the girl now?

He got into his car and shut the door with a slam. He was useless. He hit his hand against the steering wheel. ASR was hopeless. All his wealth and power could not get him to speak a word to Buaji to find out what he wanted to know.

Maybe he could contact Aman and ask him to find out more about Buaji  and the girl? He pulled his phone out and paused. What if Aman sent someone sniffing around and Buaji found out? Maybe he could sit in the car and watch the house? The girl, if she lived there, would come out at some point. If she was out, she would have to return home before night. He heaved a sigh of relief. Yes, that was the way to do it.

He leaned back in his seat only to jump up.

A long line of vehicles had formed behind his parked car. They were sounding their horns behind him.

The road was narrow and his vehicle big. He was causing a traffic jam right outside her house! What if Buaji came out to find out what the ruckus was all about?

He quickly started his car and drove ahead, looking for some space to park his car but failed to find a spot. Gnawing his teeth in frustration, he drove to his office.

“Khushi, do you want ber?” Payal asked, stopping before a cart in the market and turning to look at her listless sister.

“No, Jiji,” Khushi mumbled.

Payal frowned in distress. What had happened to Khushi? She was normally very cheerful and would let no ber pass by without tasting it.

“Dekho, Khushi. Chudi. Why don’t we buy chudi?” Payal asked.

Khushi looked at the colourful glass bangles in the shop with blank eyes.

Payal sighed. “Khushi, what is wrong with you?” she asked.

“Jiji, do you think I will meet him again?” Khushi asked, her eyes troubled.

“The chudiwala?” Payal asked in wonder.

Khuhsi frowned. “No, not the chudiwala. The rajkumar who saved me last night.”

Payal sighed. “Khushi, does he really exist or is he a character in one of your many daydreams?”

Khushi clutched her heart in hurt affront. “Jiji, you think I imagined him?”

“Well,” Payal paused tactfully.

“I didn’t, I didn’t,” Khushi protested. “Devi Maiyya ki kasam,” she promised. How could she have imagined him? No man had ever hugged her before him. How could she have imagined the warmth of his body, the gentle caress of his fingers, the concern in his intent eyes? How could she have dreamed of hugging a man like that? Imagined the feel of his muscles under her fingers, the care in his husky voice, the protectiveness in his hold, the fragrance of his skin, the touch of his stubble against her cheek, the feel of his hard chest against her soft bosom?

Tears filled her eyes. Would she ever meet him again? Or was he lost to her forever?

Arnav settled down in his seat and lifted his head to give instructions to Aman to locate the girl. It didn’t matter if he looked foolish. He had to find the girl, his pari in red...

Aman quickly slid three files on ASR’s table.

“Sir, these need to be signed immediately,” Aman explained.

ASR did the needful, his head filled with thoughts of the girl.

His phone rang. Di.

“Yes?” he muttered.

“Chotey, remember what I told you today morning?” she trilled.

Arnav drew in a deep breath, praying for patience.

Aman quickly left the room. He wanted no part of ASR’s fury after his sister had her way with him, forcing him into everything he didn’t wish to do!

“The pooja, Chotey,” Anjali reminded him.

“When?” he asked, leaning back and shutting his eyes. Where was the girl? Maybe he could drive over to Laxmi Nagar during his lunch break?

“Today evening,” Anjali pouted. “I explained at breakfast, Chotey.”

“Fine,” he said. Would Buaji notice him if he parked his vehicle elsewhere and strolled along the road before her house?

“So you will get me the things I need for the pooja, Chotey?” Anjali asked. “I will send the list with Mohanji.”

“Di, why don’t you send the list and HP to the market?” he asked, hoping against hope. “You will get the stuff you need and I can get some work done.”

“Chotey,” Anjali pouted, her voice lowering dramatically. “But you always get me the pooja material,” she whined.

“Yes, yes, I will get them. Send the list. Is there anything else?” he asked impatiently.

“Nothing, Chotey,” Anjali smiled, happy now that she had gotten her way. “I know you will return home early today. You won’t disappoint your Di, will you?” she asked.

Arnav grit his teeth.

“I will set aside a kurta pyjama for you, Chotey. Will you wear it?’ she asked.

“No,” he growled, puting his foot down.

“Alright,” Anjali gave in, knowing when to stop pushing.

Khushi prayed to Devi Maiyya, the evening breeze playing with her dupatta as she stood near the sanctum sanctorum, her hands folded.

“Devi Maiyya, I was not dreaming, was I? I really met him, didn’t I? You wouldn’t tease me with a glimpse of my rajkumar and then take him away from me, would you?” she whispered.

Devi Maiyya looked benignly at her.

“How can I make Jiji believe me? How can I see him again? Devi Maiyya, I will be able to see him again, won’t I?” Worried eyes looked at Devi Maiyya’s smiling visage. “What if Buaji finds a lion tamer or ringmaster for me? How can I tell her that I don’t want to marry him? That I want only my rajkumar?”

Someone pushed her from behind. Khushi turned around to see Vimla chachi.

“I haven’t finished, Vimla chachi. I have lots of things to tell Devi Maiyya,” Khushi protested.

“I know, Khussi. I know. It is a miracle that Devi Maiyya is still sitting here after hearing your Ramayan every evening. Sun, beta. Go home. Let us pray too. Nahi to they will shut the temple doors and we will still be waiting for you to finish your long veerkatha and mahakavya,” Vimla chachi begged.

Khushi looked at Devi Maiyya and then at Vimla chachi, her lips trembling. Even Devi Maiyya was abandoning her. She walked out of the temple on leaden feet. Where could she go now for help?

She walked along the street towards her house.

The radio at the tea shop on the way sang, “Tanhai, tanhai

Dil ke raaste mein kaisi thokar meine khayi

Toote khwaab saree, ek maayusi he chayi....

Har Khushi so gayi, zindagi kho gayi...

Khushi drew in a deep breath, trying hard not to sob. Even the radio felt pity for her, she thought. Only hard-hearted people like Vimla chachi could be blind to her plight. A vehicle sounded its horn. Even that sound sounded mournful. Khushi sighed in empathy.

Suddenly it started raining.

Khushi stood still, shocked. Nature too was crying with her? She looked around. It was darker than was normal for this time of the evening. People were running for cover or unfurling their umbrellas. She stood in the rain, feeling the cold water wet her clothes, right up to her skin. She shut her eyes and turned her face to the sky. She could feel him close to her, all around her, his arms holding her against him.

She dragged air in to her lungs on a sob.

She was willing to stand here all night in the rain if she could feel him by her.

“How many kilos of kaju do you want, bhaiyya?” the vendor asked.

Arnav looked around the market. Maybe the girl was around, shopping in the market. He had picked the market closest to Laxmi Nagar hoping to see her.

“Is it two or three, bhaiyya? I can’t make it out from the list,” the vendor frowned at Anjali’s writing.

“Three,” Arnav muttered absently, his eyes seeking his lal pari.

A few minutes later, he lugged baskets overflowing with pooja accessories to his car and placed them carefully within. He looked around the market one last time and then got in and drove away slowly.

His fingers moved to the console. Soon a song made its presence felt in the car.

Lag jaa gale ki phir ye haseen raat ho na ho

Shayad phir is janam mein mulaqaat ho na ho...

Arnav slammed on the brakes, feeling his heart clench. What if he never met her again?

It began to rain,

Hum ko mili he aaj ye ghadiyaan naseeb se

Ji bhar ke dekh leejiye hum ko kareeb se...

Arnav pushed open the door and stepped out in to the wet evening. Rain drenched him in seconds.

Phir aap ke naseeb mein ye baat ho na ho

Phir is janam mein mulaqaat ho na ho...

Where was she? Was she just a figment of his imagination? No, no, it couldn’t be. Fate couldn’t be so cruel to give him hope and then take it away from him. Khushi, happiness had finally stepped into his drab life. How could it abandon him so soon? He would go to Buaji tonight and sit in her living room till the girl returned.