219. OS 11. An Uncomplicated Wife (Parts 1 and 2)

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/

OS 11: An Uncomplicated Wife

Part 1

Arnav looked impatiently at the time on his phone. It was getting late and he wanted to be on his way to Delhi at the earliest. He had asked Aman to schedule a meeting at noon the next day, expecting the wedding fuss in Lucknow to be over in an hour or so.

“Chotey, the Guptas want to talk to you,” Nani hissed. “Be polite,” she warned.

Arnav shot an impatient look at his Nani and turned to look at his newly-acquired in-laws.

“Bitwaa, I hope you will be very happy with Khussi,” Sasi Gupta hoped with folded hands.

Arnav folded his hands and nodded in reply. “Thanks,” he grunted.

“Woh...she is young,” Garima looked downright worried. “I hope she doesn’t trouble you, babua.”

‘Trouble me?’ Arnav frowned in his mind. ‘What do they expect her to do? Let loose mice in my bed every night?’ “I will manage,” he said shortly.

“Oo kaa he, Nandkisore,” Buaji explained, “Everything happened in a hurry. She may find it difficult to adjust. One minute she was preparing for Payaliyya’s shaadi with Akass bitwaa and the next minute,” her voice trailed away.

Arnav nodded. He too was in a similar situation. He had come down to Lucknow for Akash’s wedding and found himself sharing his brother’s mandap with him.

“Bhat ijj Arnav bitwaa telling the Gupta phamily, Sasumma?” Mami asked. “Ijj he scolding them?”

“I don’t know, Manorama,” Nani was weary. “I reminded him to be polite.”

“You can’t blame him if he is angry, Nani,” Anjali whispered. “We steamrolled him into marriage.”

“Would he have married if left to himself?” Nani asked in exasperation. “He is thirty now. How many years should I wait for my great grandchild? That boy thinks only of his business, not of a wife or a family of his own.”

“That’s true, Sasumma,” Mami concurred. “Girls can walk for hours in phront of hamre Arnav bitwaa and phaintiyyaa in exhaustion bephore him, but his aijj (eyes) bill still be on his laptop, Hello Hi Bye Bye!”

Anjali looked at her brother and the Guptas with worried eyes.

“Looks at him standing there, Sasumma,” Mami exhorted. “Wearing a coat suit as if he were going to his ophice. That too black in colour, Hello Hi Bye Bye!”

Nani sighed. “Forget his dress, Manorama. I am just grateful that he didn’t kick up too much of a fuss when we insisted that he marry Khussi bitiya.”

“I think he did it for Akash,” Anjali whispered. “Chotey realised that Akash wanted to marry Payalji.”

“Hamre Arnav bitwaa ijj Ram and hamre Akass bitwaa ijj Laxman,” Mami added. “How can Arnav bitwaa refuse his brother anything he wants?”

“Where is Khussi bitiya?” Nani asked softly.

“Bidding farewell to her friends,” Anjali whispered.

Mami sighed. “Poor girlwa. She doesn’t know she has married Sage Durvasa.”

“Manorama, Anjali bitiyya,” Nani called softly, “Go get the brides. The sooner we leave Sheesh Mahal and return to Delhi the better.”

“Yes, Sasumma,” Mami agreed.

“I will say our goodbyes to the Guptas. Anjali bitiya, damadji is in charge of our transportation, isn’t he? Ask him to get the cars ready to leave immediately.”

“Yes, Nani,” Anjali muttered even as she looked around for her husband, Shyam Manohar Jha.

                                                       ***

Arnav frowned at the worried faces of the Guptas. Why were they so upset at the thought of parting from their daughter? If they wanted her with them, then why had they married her off to him? Insisted on marrying her off with Payal? Why had they told Nani that they couldn’t marry Payal to Akash till their second daughter too had a groom?

He looked at his own family. Nani, Mami and Di were huddled together whispering.

He smiled sardonically. It was too late for them to lament over his wedding, pity his wife, wonder why he had agreed...because he had agreed to marry Khushi willingly. They hadn’t fooled him one second. He hadn’t married for Akash. He hadn’t married to please his female relations. He hadn’t fallen for their emotional blackmail. He had married Khushi because it suited him to marry an uncomplicated wife.

He had always planned to marry when he was thirty. He was thirty now.

In Khushi he had a ready-made bride. He didn’t have to waste his time finding one.

And his family adored her. They were protective of her. It was always Khushi this and Khushi that.

He couldn’t have hoped for a better wife. And that was why he had nodded his agreement after taking one cursory glance at a passport-sized, black and white photo of his bride-to-be.

To be fair, Khushi’s father had insisted that he meet the girl. He hadn’t bothered to. What was the need? Payal was pretty. The whole family was reasonably good looking. His bride wouldn’t be  a total antidote, he was certain. What did it matter to him if she was intelligent or dumb, smart or shy? He wanted a wife who would occupy her place in his house but not in his life and leave him alone to work in peace. A wife who wouldn’t cause complications in his simple life that held work, work and more work.

And her presence would save him from having to listen to his family nagging him to get married.

He sighed.

Families were crazy and illogical but he didn’t have the time to ponder on such philosophical issues when there was a deal waiting for him in Delhi. He looked at the time on his phone. It was high time they left Lucknow.

He looked at the anxious faces of his new in-laws. A strange feeling tugged at his heartstrings.

“Why don’t you keep..err...Khushi here?” Arnav asked. “You can send her to Delhi when she is ready to travel,” he offered.

Maybe this would make them feel better.

The Guptas gasped.

“Keep her here after marriage?” Garima was scandalised. “No, bitwaa. The place of a wife is with her husband,” she stressed.

Arnav shrugged. ‘Whatever,’ he thought.

“Sasiji, Garimaji, Madhumatiji,” Nani called. “It is time we left.”

“Ji, ji,” Sasi Gupta agreed. “This is the auspicious time for you to set out.”

Arnav moved away to answer a call from Aman.

“Yes, I will be there,” he assured Aman. “Get the files ready. Mail me the details.”

                                                   ***

Anjali led out the two brides, both dressed in heavily brocaded pink lehengas, the dupatta over their heads to cover their faces.

Akash smiled at the sight of his wife. Arnav frowned at his phone. How much time would this nonsense take?

The brides threw rice over their heads, severing their bonds with their home. Tears trickled down the faces of the people gathered for the bidaii. Payal wept copiously while Khushi remained stoic under the dupatta.

The Guptas and their friends hugged the brides and cried over them.

“Akash,” Shyam Manohar Jha called. “This is the car assigned to you and your new bride, Payalji.” He held open the door of a decorated luxury sedan.

“Thank you, Jiju,” Akash smiled. He waited as Anjali and his mother settled Payal in and then joined her.

“Arnav, your chariot awaits,” Shyam held the door open.

Arnav frowned at the black SUV and the driver in white uniform. “Where is my car?” he asked. He looked around for his vehicle.

“We are travelling in it,” Shyam smiled, showing all his teeth. “Saale saheb, you can’t ask your new bride to squeeze in between us and perch uncomfortably in inadequate space for five to six hours.”

Arnav clenched his jaw. He hated surprises. “I prefer to drive myself,” he bit out.

“You are the dulha, Saale saheb,” Shyam smiled. “Let the driver take you to Delhi.”

“Where are my things?” Arnav asked, fuming.

“I have transferred all your files and your laptop to this vehicle,” Shyam smiled. “Your luggage too.”

Arnav bit on his tongue. He hated it when others touched his belongings.

“Khushiji, aayiye,” Anjali called nervously. “Get in.”

The bride walked slowly to the car and got in.

Anjali arranged the bride’s pink dress comfortably around her and shut the door.

Shyam held the other door open for Arnav.

Arnav nodded his thanks and took his seat.

Shyam shut the door with a nod to the driver.

Akash’s car left first.

Then the vehicle carrying Arnav and Khushi moved out of the huge yard, down the driveway and out through the open gates.

The Raizadas spent some more time at Sheesh Mahal consoling the Guptas, inviting them to Delhi, promising to take care of their daughters and offering to call them at regular intervals with news about their daughters.

They then got into the car and after much waving, let the driver take them away from Sheesh Mahal.

"Naniji, we are taking a shortcut today," Shyam smiled at the elderly lady.

"Shortcut?" Nani asked.

"Yes. We need to get to Delhi before the couples reach there," he smiled. "We have to make arrangements to welcome them."

"Shyamji thinks of everything," Anjali smiled fondly at her husband.

"As you wish, damadji," Nani smiled before lying back to rest.

                                          

Part 2

Arnav looked at the slim figure seated by him in the car. Her long legs were covered by a rich pink skirt. Long, slim, fair fingers lay clasped on her lap. They were covered with some design drawn in deep reddish brown mehendi. A heavy pink dupatta covered her body and fell over her head, revealing only the tip of her straight nose and a big gold nose ring.

It had been two full hours since their journey began. Two hours of silence.

He parted his lips to say something—anything, but could not think of a single thing to say.

He knew why he had married her, but had no idea why she had married him. He should have talked to her, spent some time with her before their wedding... She may be his uncomplicated wife but she was also a mysterious one.

He looked at the back of the driver’s head, his lips thin with annoyance. If he had been driving, then maybe he could have found something to say to the girl. But performing before an onlooker was not just difficult but impossible. His Jijaji and his brilliant ideas!

He looked out through the glass window. It was getting dark.

The car came to a sudden stop.

Arnav looked up frowning. The girl stiffened.

“There is something wrong, Sir,” the driver explained apologetically. “Let me check.”

Arnav nodded.

The driver opened the bonnet and fiddled inside.

Arnav looked at the girl. Her head was lowered, her gaze apparently on her fingers.

The driver returned to Arnav’s side.

“Sir, I can repair it. Why don’t you both sit on the bench by the road as I get this done?” he asked with a small smile.

Arnav opened his door and left the car. It felt good to stretch his back and legs. He walked to the girl’s side and pulled open the door.

“Khushi,” he called, her name sounding strange on his lips.

She left the car.

He stood back.

She glided to the side of the road, the rich ends of her lehenga trailing on the tarred surface. He joined her. They stood looking at the vast expanse of forest land they could see from the road. Trees grew in a lush cover. The sky was darkening and a cold wind was making its presence felt.

He looked down at his phone at the time. Six.

Maybe he should phone Akash and tell him of the minor delay on the road. Or call Jijaji.

He heard the sound of a vehicle on the road behind him. Arnav turned his head to see a black car approaching them. It slowed down as it neared them.

Arnav stiffened, his sixth sense warning him, alerting him to some danger. He stepped forward to cover Khushi.

Many things happened at the same time.

The windows of the new car slid down.

 The driver repairing the damaged car shut the bonnet, jumped in and drove away.

Hands with guns appeared at the windows.

Masked killers shot at Arnav and Khushi before disappearing in the dark.

Arnav rolled with Khushi in the dust of dark evening, moving away from the road to the mud by the side. They lay stunned, too shocked to move.

“Khushi, tum theek ho?” he asked, his voice sounding rusty, unused.

There was no reply.

Arnav lifted his head to look at the girl trembling in his arms.

Her dupatta had fallen away. In the dim light he saw the face of his wife for the first time.

His heart stilled.

An angel. More beautiful than anyone he had ever seen. Fine features and beautiful, wide eyes.

 He stared at her, shaken to the core. The bullets and the murder attempt paled in comparison to the impact her face had on him.

“I—I am fine. Aur aap?” she asked, her voice sweeter than the rarest honey.

He swallowed through a dry throat, his eyes running over as much of her as he could see.

She squirmed, feeling his body resting heavily on hers.

He let go of her and moved away from her prone body. She sat up. He helped her stand up, his fingers around her elbow. Her skin felt soft, satiny.

“Who..?” her voice trailed away. “Why?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“The driver...” she swallowed.

“Was in on the plan apparently,” he replied.

She nodded. Then she gently pulled out of his hold and dusted herself down.

He looked down to see his phone lying on the road. It was in four pieces. He quickly picked them up and pushed them into his pocket.

“Khushi,” he called softly.

She looked up.

“We need to move away from the road. They will return for our bodies. Once they know we are not dead, they will look for us,” he said gently.

Her face paled.

He held out his hand.

She put hers in his.