210. OS 10: An Unexpected Visitor (Part 18)

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 18

Khushi looked like a newly-bloomed rose, that too red. Her rich red lehenga with intricate gold work made her look bridal and the elaborate hangings arranged by Mamaji at the entrance provided a fitting background.

She smiled widely at Arnav and the rest of the family waiting to greet her and Buaji and opened her mouth to compliment Arnav on his looks and his cream kurta only to stop short as her eyes fell on the rose petals.

She stared at the blood-red rose petals for a long moment in silence.

Buaji pushed her from behind. “Hai Re Nandkisore! Why are you standing in the doorway, blocking me?” she asked.

“Buaji,” Khushi’s voice shook. Her eyes lifted to meet Arnav’s molten ones.

“What is wrong, Titliya?” Buaji asked, her eyes wide with worry.

Khushi moved aside so that Buaji could see the red carpet of welcome.

The Raizadas waited anxiously for the Guptas’ reaction.

“How beautiful, Nandkisore!” Buaji’s face relaxed in a fond smile. “Kaun kiye rahe ye sab?”

The Raizadas smiled.

“Arnavji,” Khushi was definite on this point.

Arnav looked away, his lips smiling.

The Raizadas stood amazed at Khushi’s belief in her swain’s romantic heart, a heart that not even his family had been fortunate to see in all the years they had lived with him.

“Arnavji, shall I walk on it?” Khushi asked, her eyes glittering with excitement, her face flushed with eagerness.

“Yes,” Arnav invited softly.

Khushi quickly slipped out of her high heels.

“Tum kaa kar rahi ho, Hello Hi Bye Bye?” Mami asked, her expressive eyes wide.

“The flowers will be crushed underfoot by the sharp points, Mamiji,” Khushi explained. She lifted the heavy skirt of her lehenga and carefully placed her bare right foot on the petals. She stood for a moment taking in the sensation of having fragrant and soft silk against her sole.

She lifted her head to look at Arnav’s waiting face.

She stumbled slightly at the expression on his face, managing to regain her balance at the last moment.

Arnav moved fast to stand by her. He held out his hand, his eyes a vat of hot honey.

Khushi slipped her hand into his.

“Arnavji, remove your jooti,” Khushi whispered. “It feels so—so warm, like silk.”

The Raizadas waited with bated breath. Akash cleaned his specs to see better.

Arnav obediently shed his footwear.

Anjali looked at Nani and Mami, joy suffusing her face. Her Chotey was shedding his inhibitions and letting new experiences and pleasures into his life.

The couple walked along the bed of rose petals towards the bower holding hands, Arnav walking ahead, leading Khushi.

“Arnavji, thank you,” she whispered, tightening her hold on his fingers for a second.

He returned the clasp, asking, “You like it?”

“I love it. No one has ever done this for me,” she whispered.

Arnav smiled.

“Aap ko pata he how much I love red roses? I could spend my whole life staring at them and sniffing their sweet smell,” she confessed. “I won’t get up even to have food.”

Arnav’s shoulders shook slightly.

“Do you know what I really want to do now?” she asked him, her eyes dancing.

“What?” he asked, knowing it would be something out of the ordinary.

“I want to lie down on these petals and roll in them, Arnavji,” she breathed. “It is like a bed.”

An image flashed through his mind faster then the speed of light. A dimly-lit room decorated with red roses, red rose petals scattered on the white silk of a big bed, Khushi lying on them, her hair unbound, he bending over her, covering her naked body with his...

“How do you always know what I like?” Khushi asked him, her eyes wide and innocent. “It is like you read my mind.”

He swallowed. Hard. He seriously hoped that she couldn’t read his. If she could, she would run for the hills, screaming at the top of her voice.

They reached the stage set for the sagai.

“Shall we begin, Madhumatiji?” Nani asked.

“Yes, yes,” Buaji smiled.

The family joined them on the stage.

“Arnav bitwaa, Khussi, gets ready,” Mami exhorted them. “Phinally the moment of sagai is here.”

Khushi beamed at her; Arnav smiled slightly.

“You are a strange couples,” Mami laughed. “Your Buaji and we picked out your rings, Hello Hi Bye Bye! Saasumma, normal girls phuss about the saijj of the diamonds in their rings and here Khussi was too bijji to come and select a ring.”

“Our Chotey is no better, Manorama. He was in Agra when we were looking through a thousand rings for him,” Nani grumbled.

“Sanka Devi has found her Sanka Dev, Devyaniji,” Buaji declared.

All nodded.

Khushi turned to look at Arnav, their eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Buaji thinks you are mad to want to marry me,” Khushi whispered.

“I am madly eager to marry you,” Arnav corrected, his eyes dancing.

Khushi giggled.

The ladies tied raksha dhagas on the wrists of the couple. They then held out the trays with the rings.

Khushi picked a slim platinum band and slipped it on Arnav’s finger. Arnav took the slim band of white diamonds and slid it on her slim, shapely finger.

Khushi looked at her ring. “I hope I don’t lose the ring, Arnavji,” Khushi whispered anxiously.

“I will buy you more if you do lose it,” he calmed her. He looked down at his own finger. “I—I normally don’t wear rings or any jewellery, not even a watch,” Arnav muttered.

“You can take it off after we are married,” Khushi offered him a way out. “I will give you mine too. You keep both of them safe in your locker.”

Arnav smiled. “You won’t mind that I am not wearing a ring, Khushi?”

Khushi waved off his concern. “What does a ring matter? If you don’t wear a ring, will it make you any less married to me?” she asked.

Arnav had to laugh.

“Lo shuru ho gaya,” Mami sighed. “Put them together in one place, Saasumma and they will talk for hours.”

All smiled.

“Our Khussi takes after you, Mano,” Mamaji teased.

Mami lifted her nose in the air.

“I am too talkative, Mamiji,” Khushi pouted, unhappy with herself.

“That is not a bad thing, Khushiji,” Anjali assured her. “You talk as much as your heart desires.”

“You have no idea how much she can talk, Nandkisore,” Buaji chuckled. “Don’t encourage her.”

“Our Chotey is too silent, Buaji,” Anjali complained.

“Yes,” Nani added. “He is.” She turned to her new bahuriya. “You talk, Khussi bitiya. Talk to your heart’s content and make Chotey talk too.”

Khushi smiled happily and looked down at the line of fire on her finger.

One by one the ladies and men approached the pair and gave them heart-felt blessings, hugs and gifts. They then sat around the dining table and shared a feast, laughing and talking till late in the evening. Khushi sat by Arnav and entertained him throughout dinner.

“It is late,” Buaji said as her eyes fell on the clock. “We have to leave.”

“It is just ten,” Nani said. “Stay a while longer, Madhumatiji.”

“Yes, Buaji,” Anjali wheedled.

“Ten is not late,” Mami said. “The night is just beginning for us young peoples. Let’s play antakshari.”

Buaji stood up and said regretfully, “It is too late, Devyaniji. We have to open the shop early tomorrow morning. There is a load of fabric that will be delivered tomorrow morning from Lucknow. We have to be there.”

“I will drop you,” Arnav offered.

Buaji acquiesced. She was tired, but happily so.

The Raizadas hugged and kissed Khushi and helped Buaji into the car. 

"Just a minute," Khushi said. She ran back into the house and returned with a handful of red rose petals from the carpet Arnav had spread for her.

She slowly opened her hands and showed Arnav what she held. "To remember what you did for me today," she whispered.

He swallowed hard. He wanted to hug her, shower her with kisses and all the roses in the world.

"Chalo, Titliya," Buaji called.

The Raizadas waved them off with smiles of joy and satisfaction on the faces.

“The sagai is done. Now it is time for the sangeet,” Nani said happily.

“Let’s hire a dance choreographer, Nani,” Anjali suggested. “Chotey and Khushiji will have to dance and you know Chotey! He will crush Khushiji’s feet.”

“And Khussi ijj no better,” Mami added. “She will phall off the stage and take hamre Arnav bitwaa with her, Hello Hi Bye Bye!” She sighed, “Imagine two people getting married, one lame and the other with a  broken arm.”

“Shubh shubh bolo, Manorama!” Nani glared at her daughter-in-law.

Khushi sat behind Arnav while Buaji occupied the passenger seat in the front.

“What is the next rasm, Buaji?” Khushi asked.

“Sangeet,” Buaji replied, hiding a yawn with her hand.

“It will be fun, Arnavji,” Khushi danced up and down in her seat.

Arnav smiled at her in the mirror.

“Chup karke bait jao, Nandkisore,” Buaji ordered. “Are you a child or a monkey to jump up and down?”

Khushi pouted. “If I can’t be happy at my own sangeet, then for whose sangeet should I jump up and down?”

Buaji pursed her lips. Arnav hid his smile.

“I can’t be happy at my own wedding but I should dress up like a mannequin and dance all evening at other people’s shaadi! What a strange world this is!” Khushi grumbled.

Buaji sighed. “Brides have to be modest, Titliya. You should keep your head lowered, your eyes on the ground, speak only when spoken to...”

Khushi gasped.  “If these are the conditions to getting married, then hamari shaadi  to ho chuki. Arnavji, if I don’t see where I am going, I will fall. And I can’t stay for more than five minutes without talking, not even for you.”

Arnav chuckled.

“You talk, Khushi. Just be yourself,” he suggested mildly.

Khushi leaned forward, clutching the headrest of his seat with her hands. “Thank you, Arnavji,” she gushed.

Buaji sighed. “Do you know what you have just asked her to do?” she asked Arnav.

He nodded, laughing.

“To ab bhugto, bitwaa” Buaji blessed him, smiling.

When they reached Laxmi Nagar, Arnav got out and opened Buaji’s door for her. He helped her out and she went up the steps to open the door.

Then he circled the car and opened Khushi’s door. As he bent to help her alight, he felt her lips touch the corner of his. Her arms were on his shoulders.

He stopped for a moment, his breath caught in his chest at that innocent whisper of a touch.

His startled eyes looked into her mischievous ones.

“I wanted to kiss you, lekin I have bad aim,” she confessed.

Arnav smiled. He then quickly looked at Buaji. She had unlocked the door and gone in. He looked around. The road was deserted except for a brown and white dog.

He turned his face to Khushi. “I won’t move,” he promised. “Now you can practice your kissing,” he offered himself selflessly as target for practice. He shut his eyes and waited with bated breath for the touch of her soft lips.

Her plump, pink lips slowly settled on his. 

Experimentally she rubbed her lips against his.

“Thank you, Arnavji,” she breathed against his lips. “For the bed of red roses.”

“Anything for you, Khushi,” he murmured, hoping desperately that she wouldn’t take her lips away.

“Can we have red rose petals on our bed for our suhaag raat?” Khushi asked.

The dog wagged its tail, waiting for Arnav's reply.