223. OS 11. An Uncomplicated Wife (Parts 6 & 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 6

Arnav woke up early, earlier than the birds. He looked down at the soft, warm and comforting weight on his chest. Khushi was lying draped all over him, her fingers still clutching the neck of his T-shirt.

He could stay like this forever, he mused.

He clenched his jaw. ‘Focus, focus, ASR,’ he told himself.

Gently, reluctantly, he removed her hand and her body from his and got out of bed.

Khushi moved her limbs restlessly at the loss of her warm pillow.

He held his breath. Would she wake up? She needed the rest.

Khushi settled down again.

After a quick visit to the bathroom and a last look at an unconscious Khushi, Arnav locked the door and went down to the phone booth.

Calling Akash would be dangerous, he thought. Payal might wake up and Akash may have to tell her the truth. Aman was a better bet.

He looked around.

The desk held a different receptionist and he was snoring away, his head resting on the white desk.

Arnav quickly moved into the cubicle and shut the door behind him.

“Hello,” Aman sounded alert even at dawn.

“ASR here,” Arnav replied.

“The police got the two thugs and their driver last night, sir,” Aman relayed. “They divulged details of the driver who tricked you. He too has been picked up by the sleuths. You and Khushiji are safe, ASR.”

“Except for Shyam,” ASR growled.

“Except for him,” Aman agreed. “The Commissioner called ten minutes back, Sir. He said that the assailants sang like birds. There is ample proof to nail Shyam twice over.”

Arnav drew in a deep breath of relief.

“Akash sir gave me your present address. Shall I send Mohan with your official car?” Aman asked.

“No,” Arnav ruled out the suggestion. “If Shyam finds out, he will escape our trap.”

“True,” Aman mused. A moment later, he suggested, “Shall I send my bike over?”

Arnav thought for a second. “Yes,” he replied. “Who will bring it here?” he asked.

“Mehul, the son of the security guard at my flat,” Aman replied. “He is the one who rode it from Jalandar to Delhi for me. He stays in the guard’s flat on the ground floor.”

“Ask him to knock on the door of 310 and to hand over the keys to Sunil Dhawan. Aman, make arrangements for the boy to return to Delhi,” Arnav instructed.

“Yes, sir,” Aman agreed. “He will reach there in about three hours. Please call me once you reach Delhi. I will inform the Commissioner.”

“Yes,” Arnav agreed. “Aman, send two helmets with him. We can’t be too careful.”

“Yes, sir,” Aman replied.

“Thanks, Aman,” Arnav whispered. He was lucky to have someone so trustworthy as Aman on his side. Aman deserved a raise, a serious raise.

“It will feel good to see the slimeball in jail, sir,” Aman said softly.

                                                        ***

Arnav returned to the room, his hands full of clothes he had purchased from the store by the restaurant. He unlocked the door, placed the bags inside the room and shut and locked the door.

He walked to sit by a sleeping Khushi.

She looked exhausted, sunk in deep sleep.

‘Let her sleep,’ he thought.

 All hell would break loose once they reached Delhi. Shyam would fight back. There was no doubt about that. He wouldn’t slink away silently. Shyam had millions to lose. And Di would be caught between the husband she adored and the brother she loved.

He buried his head in his hands, his heart heavy with sorrow. Was there no end to the pain and humiliation his sister had to suffer in life? Was his family cursed as Nani often said? How hard he had tried to outrun his past! But he had been running in circles. He was where he had started sixteen years back.

Khushi stirred, turning towards him.

He lifted his head and looked at her sweet face, as innocent in sleep as she was when awake.

Khushi and Payal too had been dragged into the mess that was the Raizadas, he thought regretfully. They deserved better, much better.

Khushi curled into him, seeking his warmth and presence even in her sleep.

He swallowed hard. Fate. Destiny. He had never believed such stuff existed. But maybe they did. Otherwise why would Khushi be bound to him for life? She should  have married a boy from Lucknow with good parents and a loving family, not a hard-nosed, heartless ASR from a dysfunctional family.

He sat by her for hours, his elbows on his knees, his fingers clasped, his heart filled with regret.

                                                         ***

Hours later, a knock sounded on the door.

Khushi stirred.

Arnav strode to the door and pulled it open before Mehul could knock again.

A young man stood there with two helmets hanging from his arm. “Sunil Dhawan?” he asked.

“Yes,” Arnav replied.

“Aman sir asked me to give you the key and the helmets,” he said, holding out the bike’s key and the black helmets. “Pulsar. Black, In the parking lot.” the boy said, reciting the registration number.

Arnav took the key and reached for his wallet to pay him.

The boy stepped back. “Aman sir has already paid me,” he said.

“Thank you,” Arnav said.

The boy nodded with a smile.

“How will you get back?” Arnav asked.

“A friend accompanied me on his bike,” Mehul said. “If there is nothing else...”

Arnav nodded.

The boy left. Arnav shut the door and turned around to see Khushi sitting up in bed.

“Kya hua, Arnavji?” she asked, her eyes wide in apprehension. “Who was it?”

“Mehul. Aman sent him with the bike keys. All have been caught, except Shyam,” he said simply.

She sagged in relief. “Bike?” she asked curiously.

“I don’t want to spook Shyam. If he vanishes before we get him, it will be a long time before we can lay our hands on him. And till he is caught, we will have to live in fear. So I told Aman not to send me a car from the office. He has sent me his bike. We need to leave immediately, Khushi,” he said softly.

“Ji,” she said, jumping out of bed and moving to the bathroom. “Did you sleep well?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, opening their bag and dumping their belongings on the bed.

When Khushi returned from the bathroom, she was greeted by a black shirt and a pair of black trousers set aside for her.

“Wear them, Khushi. It is going to a long, cold ride,” Arnav warned.

She nodded uncertainly.

“We can’t take the clothes or the bag. Keep the bundle with your jewellery close to you,” he instructed.

Khushi nodded and moved to the bathroom with her new clothes to change.

“Tie your hair in a bun,” he said. “It will be easier to wear the helmet.”

“Ji,” she agreed.

Arnav quickly donned his new weatherproof jacket and pocketed the bike keys and his wallet.

Khushi emerged from the bathroom feeling self-conscious. She tugged at the shirt, hoping to make it cover her butt.

Arnav spared her a look and quickly averted his eyes. She was hazardous to his focus and his concentration and his heart in anything she wore.

He held out her jacket.

She wore it. He zipped her in.

He handed her a helmet. She picked up the small bundle of her jewellery.

He dumped the rest of the clothes in the bag and left it on the bed. They left the room and made their way downstairs.

It was still early in the morning and cold. Very few people were awake and moving.

They approached the sleeping receptionist.

Arnav banged on the desk.

The receptionist jumped, blinking sleep-filled eyes.

“We are vacating the room,” Arnav said brusquely, dropping the keys on the table.

“Yes, sir,” the man said, quickly calculating the rent.

Arnav paid the bill and holding Khushi by her arm, led her to the bike he could see in the car park. He confirmed the number and got on, pushing the key into the cavity.

He pressed the switch and the engine roared to life. Arnav drew in a deep breath of relief.

There was a small pouch on the petrol tank to store valuables.

“Khushi, give me the bundle,” he said.

She handed it over.

He pushed it into the pouch and fastened it.

“Get on,” he invited. “Put your legs on either side, Khushi. Delhi is a long way off,” he advised. “Wear the helmet.”

“Ji,” Khushi said. She wore the headgear and holding his shoulders, clambered on the bike to sit behind him.

He waited.

She moved her hands more firmly on his shoulders and clung on.

He sent the bike moving, riding out of the car park on to the highway towards Delhi.

                                                ***

They sped along the road, leaving heavier vehicles behind. Khushi hung on for her life, her arms around Arnav’s waist, her jacket-covered front pressed against his back. It was still early in the morning. Trees and houses passed in a whirl before Khushi’s eyes and the cold wind threatened to throw them off the monster. Khushi shut her eyes. She clung to him like a limpet, feeling every movement of his muscles as he swerved or changed pace.

“Focus on the road, ASR,’ he told himself. ‘Delhi. Home. Shyam. Not the girl plastered to your back.’

He took a bend in the road smoothly.

“Hey Devi Maiyya, raksha karna,” she whispered, her lips moving against the centre of his back.

They covered miles in silence, feeling the engine roar and rage beneath them. Khushi shivered from the cold, unable to feel her fingers anymore. She crawled closer to him, if that were possible.

‘Shyam, Shyam,’ Arnav chanted in his mind. ‘Once Shyam is out of our lives, we can get on with our marriage,’ he comforted himself.

He halted the bike near a telephone booth.

He loosened the helmet and pulled it off his head.

“I need to call Aman,” he explained to Khushi.

She nodded. With great difficulty, she moved her frozen legs and staggered down from the bike. He joined her and holding her arm, took her into the booth.

He quickly called Aman’s number.

“Hello,” Aman responded on the second ring.

“We will be at the Commissioner’s office in ten minutes,” Arnav informed him.

“I am waiting there, sir,” Aman replied.

Arnav cut the call. He looked at a Khushi who had her arms around her trunk and was trying bravely not to shiver.

“Just ten minutes, Khushi,” he soothed her, his voice gentle and cajoling.

Khushi nodded obediently, her spirit willing but her body fatigued.

Arnav wore his helmet and led her to the bike. In a few seconds, they were on their way.

                                                

Part 7 (Hoping to post in a couple of hours)

“Anjali bitiyaa, drink this juuuus,” Mami held out a glass of orange juice.

“No, Mami. My Chotey and Khushiji,” Anjali wept. “Who knows if they have had anything to eat or drink?”

Shyam looked at the display of his phone. Why had his fifteen calls to the hired killers gone unanswered? Where were they? Had they managed to get hold of Arnav and Khushi?

Payal sat by them, too exhausted to even weep.

“He Devi Maiyya, please bring back my children safe and sound,” Nani prayed.

“Hamre Arnav bitwaa, hamri Khussi bitiya,” Mami lamented. “Bhere are they? Kono ice cube to naahi ke meltwaa ho jaaye, gayab ho jaaye! They are human beings. How can they be missingwa?”

Akash averted his eyes from the anguish of his family, feeling terrible.

“Don’t worry, Mami,” Shyam said. “We are doing our best.” If only these hags would stop nagging him! He needed more money, urgently. Maybe the boys were holding out for payment!

Akash clenched his jaw.

“Acha? Then bhy are they not here?” Mami asked. “It hajj been three days, damadji. Bhere ijj my Arnav bitwaa and his bife?”

“Mamiji,” Shyam was exasperated.

“Go to the police, Akass,” Mami ordered. “I don’t care if your businesswaa phalls down. Go to the police.”

Nani, Payal and Anjali perked up.

“Mate,” Akash tried to stop her.

Mami stood up. “Ijj the businesswaa more important than hamre Arnav bitwaa and Khussi bitiya?” she asked. “Your Arnav bitwaa apne jaan diya for you, got married for you and you can’t go to the police bhen he is missingwaa?” Her eyes were filled with tears.

“Mate, please sit down,” Akash panicked. “Let’s talk about this.”

“Mami, you are endangering Arnav and his wife,” Shyam tried to block her.

“Don’t talks to me,” Mami waved the men away. “Both of you are useless, Hello Hi Bye Bye! Waste! I bill go to the police.”

“Yes, Manorama,” Nani supported her.

Anjali and Payal stood up in support.

Mami marched to the door. Akash tried to stop her by throwing his arms wide. She ducked under his arm and strode to the door, the pleats of her Benarsi sari flying in the wind at her rapid movement.

Shyam jumped to stand before her, blocking her path to the door. “No, Mami,” he said, his eyes red, his nose twitching, a drop of sweat on his temple.

“Get out of my ways!” Mami ordered imperiously.

Shyam advanced towards Mami, his eyes murderous. Akash made to step between them.

The door bell rang.

Shyam turned to look at the shut door with alarmed eyes.

Akash almost collapsed in relief. He rushed to open the door.

Aman entered the house, his wise eyes taking in Shyam and Mami’s stance.

“Aman!” Mami called in relief.

“Amanji,” Anjali cried.

“Did Chotey call you?” Nani asked, her eyes wide with hope.

“Bhere ijj hamre Arnav bitwaa and Khussi bitiya?” Mami asked. “I am going to the police,” she claimed.

“Why should you take the trouble to go to the police, Mamiji?” Aman asked.

“See,” Shyam yelled at Mami, victorious. “I told you it will be bad for the business if you register a complaint at the station.”

Mami opened her mouth to challenge him, but Aman said, “I have brought the police to you, Mamiji.”

All stared at Aman in shocked silence.

Aman stood back.

The Police Commissioner entered with ten of his officers in uniform.

“What...?” Nani asked in a low voice. “Where are my Chotey and Khussi bitiya?”

Arnav and Khushi entered the house. Aman locked the door behind them.

“Arnav bitwaa!” Mami cried, running to him and throwing herself in his arms. She pulled him close to her, weeping uncontrollably. “Bhere bere you? Hamre Arnav bitwaa. You scared your Mami...” she sobbed.

Arnav put his arms around Mami and patted her back. “We are fine, Mami,” he said softly.

Payal hugged Khushi, crying all over her.

Nani and Anjali rushed to Arnav and hugged him, unable to believe their eyes.

Mami moved to hug Khushi. “Khussi bitiya, my poor bahuriya. Bhat happened to you?” Nani and Anjali hugged Khushi and wept.

Akash hugged Arnav and asked after Khushi’s wellbeing.

Shyam alone stood still like a rock, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“Dekhiye, hamre Chotey has returned to us. Khushiji too,” Anjali prompted Shyam, wondering at his silence and stillness.

“Yes,” Shyam managed to croak. “How—what happened to you, Saale saheb?”

“A lot,” Arnav replied. “But where are your manners? Akash, offer the Commissioner and his officers seats.”

Akash quickly seated everyone in the living room, taking care to station himself behind Shyam. Aman moved to sit by Akash.

Mami sat by Arnav and held on to his arm as though afraid that he would vanish if she let go. Khushi sat on Arnav’s left.

“What happened to you, Chotey?” Anjali asked.

“The driver Jijaji arranged to take us to Delhi stopped the car on the way and said that it had to be repaired. He asked us to alight and stand by the road,” Arnav stated.

All looked at him.

“Another black car appeared and two masked men shot at us,” Arnav said casually.

All gasped.

“Kya?” Anjali couldn’t believe her ears.

“Chotey, kyun?” Nani asked.

“Khooni, chor, luche, lafange!” Mami shouted, holding her clenched fist in the air. “How dares you!”

“We managed to escape,” Arnav said. “We found refuge and got home.”

All sat staring at Arnav and Khushi.

“It seems an impossible story,” Shyam said slowly.

“It does, doesn’t it? But the truth is often stranger than fiction,” Arnav said easily. “Why didn’t you register a complaint with the police?” Arnav asked conversationally.

Shyam looked away.

“Damadji said that it would affect your business if we did so,” Nani replied.

“Really, Jijaji?” Arnav asked Shyam.

Shyam tried to smile at him.

“You are so concerned about my business. I am so...so fortunate,” Arnav complimented him.

“Bhat about the men who tried to kill my Arnav bitwaa and our bahuriya?” Mami asked the Commissioner.

“They are under arrest,” the Commissioner was affability itself.

Shyam’s phone fell from his hand.

“Kya hua, Mr. Jha?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Shyam said, flustered.

The Commissioner smiled. “I am not surprised that you are shocked, Mr. Jha. After all, they are your acquaintances.”

“What?” Mami asked.

Nani and Anjali stared at the Commissioner and Shyam.

“My acquaintances? What are you talking about?” Shyam tried blustering his way out. “Rani sahiba, I don’t understand what he is talking about.”

“You will, Jijaji,” Arnav said. “Especially when I tell you that the driver you hired to trap us too has been arrested by the police.”

Shyam gulped.

“Shyamji...” Anjali whimpered. “What is this? Chotey?”

“You will understand soon, Di,” Arnav said, his eyes on Shyam.

“That is nonsense,” Shyam fought back. “Preposterous.”

“Yes, it is. You never thought I would get married, did you?” Arnav asked.

Mami and Nani gasped.

“You were shocked out of your skull when you landed in Lucknow and found out that I was getting married along with Akash,” Arnav smiled. “You know, I can almost find it in myself to pity you. All your plans in the dust...how you must have fretted, Jijaji! Years of planning and plotting spoiled by my sudden marriage.”

“Chotey, he is your Jijaji!” Anjali reminded him.

“Ussi ka rona he,” Arnav sat back, apparently relaxed. “Plotting to run into my Di at the temple after finding out who she is and how much she is worth, making her fall for you, persuading her to marry you, fooling us with your sweet words, waiting and biding your time to get your hands on my money...” Arnav’s voice trailed away.

“Arnav bitwaa!” Mami exclaimed.

“This is the truth, Mami,” he said softly.

“That ijj bhy he didn’t want me to contact the police!” Mami cried out.

“Chotey, what is this?” Anjali’s tears flowed down her cheeks.

“The truth, Di,” Arnav’s eyes were serious as he looked into his sister’s. “Stay with me, Di. We have been through worse.”

“Arnav is lying, Rani Sahiba,” Shyam pleaded.

“But...but Chotey never lies,” Anjali whispered. “Chotey, there must be some other explanation. Your Jijaji, my Shyamji will never do something like this!”

“Chotey...” Nani wept.

“He is not worthy of the love and respect we gave him, Nani,” Arnav said. He looked at Shyam. “Finding out about my marriage shattered you. You had to kill me and Khushi to control my money. You hired killers to do the dirty job. They failed you.”

“This is a lie. Arnav is trying to defame me. Saale sahib, why are you trying to destroy my relationship with your Di? What will you gain?” Shyam tried to act the injured party.

“I will be rid of a parasite with homicidal tendencies,” Arnav was suave in the extreme.

“Chotey!” Anjali rebuked him.

“Do you recognise them?” the Commissioner handed over photos of the criminals to Shyam.

Shyam pretended to study them closely. “No, I don’t know these men,” Shyam said.

“Then why did you phone them fifteen times today, Mr. Jha?” the Commissioner asked.

There was perfect silence in the room.

As all watched in horror, Arnav leaned back in his chair and burst out laughing. Taking the cue from him, Akash and Aman smiled as though mocking Shyam.

The Raizada ladies stared at the sight of ASR laughing.

“You are a fool, Shyam Manohar Jha!” Arnav laughed. “A fool who has lost everything through his stupidity.”

“I should have shot you myself instead of hiring those fools,” an enraged Shyam bit out even as he rushed towards Arnav like a bull that had sighted a red cloth.

Many things happened that second.

Khushi stepped forward to stand between a sitting Arnav and Shyam.

Akash and Aman caught Shyam by his arms and tugged back.

The police officials raised their revolvers and pointed them at Shyam.

Anjali fainted.

Arnav stood up and moved to stand between Shyam and Khushi.

The Raizada ladies ran to check on Anjali.

“I hope you have got enough, Commissioner,” Arnav shook the older man’s hand.

“His fate is sealed,” the Commissioner assured Arnav.

Suddenly Shyam broke free and snatched an officer’s gun and aimed it at Arnav.

The next second, six bullets entered Shyam’s chest and he dropped down dead.