199. OS 10: An Unexpected Visitor (Part 7)

Link to my new short story: Taking Care of You


“I thought I was dreaming when I first saw you," he said.

 “How did you know it was me?” she asked. “I could have been anybody. A thief even.”

He smiled wearily. “I don’t know many thieves who would look at me with anxious eyes and then cry because I was sick,” he mumbled.

Is it possible for love to bloom, sight unseen? Juhi and Abhay are strangers who know each other better than they know themselves. One night changes the equation and the even tenor of their lives and puts all their doubts and fears to rest.

http://pothi.com/pothi/book/ebook-smita-ramachandran-taking-care-you

Link to my first e-novel; A Home for Meenakshi

http://pothi.com/pothi/book/ebook-smita-ramachandran-home-meenakshi

"I love the way you love, Meenu," he whispered, his eyes on hers. "Such loyalty, such passion..."

Meenakshi Sharma, an orphan, lives in Varanasi with her uncle, a chronic bachelor who wants her to become a professional musician. She unwillingly relocates to Delhi to study under a renowned musician for eight months. Staying for rent in the outhouse of the Agrawals, she meets Aditya Agrawal, an attractive young man brooding over the memories of his horrendous past. Pulled between her uncle's expectations of her and Aditya's love for her, Meenakshi struggles with her feelings. How can she disappoint her uncle who had devoted his entire life to her upbringing? How can she pretend to be blind to Aditya's feelings for her? A romance that moves between the alleys of the holy city of Varanasi and the modern city of Delhi.

A blog for my VMs:

http://smitarsvms.blogspot.in/

Part 7

Arnav burst out laughing. He threw his arms around Buaji and chortled, “Khushi’s Devi Maiyya and you.”

The Raizadas stared at Arnav’s new avatar, speechless with wonder.

Buaji muttered, “Devi Maiyya will have to do it, Nandkisore! No other being can help you.” She looked at Arnav’s face for a moment. Then she said, “You talk to Titliyya, Nandkisore. If she agrees to marry you, we will have the wedding. If she spares you, you go home and thank Devi Maiyya, bitwaa.”

Arnav bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. 

Before he could reply, Khushi returned with tea, jalebi and biscuits. She served all of them happily.

“Arnavji, here’s your black tea without sugar,” she said as she handed over a cup to him.

“Why are you drinking black tea, Parmeswari?” Buaji asked.

“Because Arnavji doesn’t like tea with milk,” Khushi explained without an ounce of self-consciousness. “He is my friend.”

The Raizadas and Buaji stared at the sanki girl.

“Khushi, shall we watch the serial?” Arnav asked. “There are ten minutes left,” he informed her.

“Yes, yes,” Khushi cried as she ran towards the TV to switch it on. Then she joined Arnav on the sofa. “It is a good serial, Naniji, Mamiji, Anjaliji,” she told them. “Aap bhi dekhiye na?” she invited them.

“Bhat ijj the name?” Mami asked, moving to sit by her.

“Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon?” Khushi replied.

“Hum bhi yahi poochat he, Arnav bitwaa,” Mami nudged him. “Ijj Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Diya Jaaye?”

Arnav lowered his head, flushing slightly.

“Poor Laxmi!” Khushi sighed. “She will miss watching it with you, Mamiji,” she lamented.

“Hum usse rerun dikhabe,” Mami promised.

The hero kicked the door of the storeroom to open it; the heroine flinched.

“His foot must have hurt,” Khushi commented.

“Bada handsome he hero, Hello Hi Bye Bye,” Mami fluttered her blue lashes.

Khushi squinted at the screen. “He is. He looks a bit like our Arnavji, doesn’t he?” she asked.

Arnav choked.

Nani, Anjali and Mami smiled.

Buaji sighed, “Poor bitwaa! Look at him smiling! He doesn’t know what is waiting for him.”

Arnav looked away to stop laughing like a mad man. As soon as the serial was over, he had to talk to Khushi about their marriage.

“Why is he kicking a door that has to be pulled open?” Khushi’s brain asked.

But before they could worry over this point, the panel of door gave up the fight and fell.

“Look at his eyes!” Khushi exclaimed.

“They are spitting phire,” Mami seconded her.

“If I were the heroine, I would run home,” Khushi confessed.

Apparently the heroine had a similar idea. She quickly picked up her bag and her Devi Maiyya’s idol and rushed out while the hero was left calling her name.

“Smart girl,” Khushi smiled.

Mami nodded.

The hero followed her.

The heroine turned to face the hero. She said, “You hate the sight of me, don’t you? I will spare you the trouble of looking at me. I am returning to Lucknow. You will never have to see me again.”

Khushi and Mami clapped till their hands became red.

Arnav shook with laughter.

Nani whispered in Anjali’s ear, “Devi Maiyya created this specimen to keep hamre Chotey smiling. May Devi Maiyya keep both of them happy always.”

Anjali nodded.

The hero stood with his mouth open as the heroine marched away.

The serial ended.

“Serves him right,” Khushi declared. She looked at Arnav. “If he likes her, he should tell her. What is the use of wasting time rolling his eyes at her and shouting at her and breaking doors like Shaktiman?”

“Can I talk to you, Khushi?” Arnav seized the opportunity.

“Of course,” Khushi replied. “Isme poochnewaali baat kya he? We are talking now, aren’t we?” she asked.

“Alone,” he said.

Khushi looked at his family and her Buaji with perplexed eyes.

“Jao, Nandkisore,” Buaji sighed.

“Yes, jao and listen to hamre Arnav bitwaa carefully,” Mami advised her.

Khushi nodded uncertainly and stood up. Arnav joined her.

“Take him to your bedroom, Titliyya,” Buaji suggested.

“Ji, Buaji,” Khushi replied. “Arnavji, please follow me,” she told him.

She led him to her bedroom. It was a spacious room with a single bed in the centre. There were stars and many mobiles he couldn’t identify at first glance hanging from its frame. Birds? he wondered.

“Arnavji, sit down,” she invited.

He sat down on the narrow bed. She joined him, curling her feet under her legs. The pleats of the red and green sari fell gracefully around her.

They looked at each other.

How could he broach the subject? he wondered.

“Arnavji, the day we met,” she began.

“Hhmmm?” he asked.

“We were sitting on your bed. Now it is the turn of my bed,” she giggled.

Arnav looked at her innocent face wreathed in smiles and his face relaxed into a smile.

“What is wrong, Arnavji?” she asked.

“Khushi,” he swallowed hard.

She took hold of his hand. “Arnavji, why are you so upset? Tell me whatever you want to. I promise I won’t get angry or sad,” she vowed.

“Khushi, today...the boy who came to see you..” he tried.

Khushi frowned. “I didn’t like him or his family. Are you worried that I wanted to marry him and couldn’t?” she asked, smiling.

“Khushi,” he spoke. “Will you marry me?” he asked bluntly.

Khushi frowned.

“Why, Arnavji?” she asked. “You don’t have to compensate me for my loss of a groom,” she smiled. “Especially as I never wanted to marry him anyway.”

He shook his head in agitation. “Khushi, it is not about compensation. Khushi, I—I want to marry you,” he blurted out.

Khushi stared at him, her mouth open. Then she asked, “You really want to marry me?”

 Her astonishment hurt him to the soul.

“Yes, Khushi, I want to marry you. I really, really want to marry you,” he admitted. “No other girl will do.”

Her astonishment turned to joy. “Will you say this before Buaji? She will die of shock,” Khushi giggled. “Not that I want her to die, but it would be nice to surprise her.”

“I will,” Arnav smiled. “But before that I want your answer.”

“My answer?” she asked.

“Yes, will you marry me?” he asked.

“I am clumsy,” she said.

“I know.”

“I am accident-prone,” she admitted.

“I know.”

“I talk too much,” she sighed.

“I like it.”

“You do?” she looked at him with wonder.

“I do.”

“Buaji says my head is in the clouds,” she pouted.

“That’s alright.”

“I want to watch the serial five days a week, without fail,” she reminded him.

“Yes.”

“Will you watch it with me?” she asked, her eyes anxious.

“Yes.”

“I am sanki,” she sighed.

“It is fine with me,” he reassured her. Why was everyone trying to distance Khushi and himself, Khushi included?

Khushi parted her lips and then stopped herself. “Arnavji, everyone says I am too impulsive,” she informed him. “So let me think about this.”

“What?” he asked, lost.

“Let me think about this, Arnavji,” she told him, her eyes unexpectedly serious. “What if I say yes and then you regret asking me?”

“Khushi, I won’t regret it,” he tried to persuade her.

“You won’t be able to cancel our wedding. Woh kya he, Buaji will hit you with her belan if you try to backtrack,” Khushi told him.

“Khushi,” he tried to get a word in edgeways but failed.

“She has been looking for a groom for me for years but no boy was unlucky enough to want to marry me. So if I agree to marry you, she won’t let you go even if you beg her for mercy,” Khushi smiled.

“I don’t want to go, Khushi. I want to marry you,” Arnav tried again.

“Let me think about it, Arnavji,” she said slowly. “Give me time, please.”

What could he say to that? He said, “As you wish, Khushi.”

Khushi leaned forward and quickly dropped a kiss on his lean cheek.

He stared at her in shock.

Khushi touched her lips in wonder. A long moment later she said, "Arnavji, that's all the heroine has to do. If she gives that angry hero a pappi on his cheek, all his anger will fly out through the window," she discovered.