238. OS 13. Laad Governor and Afghan Jalebi (Part 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/

Dedicated to Supriya Sahasrabuddhe (Sups/ aniyathi). She wanted Mami and Payal to plot to bring A-K together. So here goes,

Part 2

“What the!” ASR exclaimed.

“What the naahi, Arnav bitwa. Photo. Phamily photo lene ki padi. Aao, aao, comes, comes,” mami invited him.

He looked down at the thali in his hand.

“Leave it here, Hello Hi Bye Bye,” mami said, laughing.

“Kaa hua, Manno?” mamaji asked.

“Hamre Arnav bitwaa ijj holding the thali as if he ijj the bridewaa and the boy’s phamily has given him shagun,” mami teased.

Mama laughed and took the thali from Arnav’s hands. “Tumra NK bitwaa hasn’t turned up yet, Manno. Did you give him the correct directions? Shaddi is over, now photos will be taken and soon the feast too will be over and the guests will go home to take rest,” he reminded mami.

ASR rolled his eyes. That pest NK was joining them? This day couldn’t get any worse, could it?

“Aap to shutuppiya hi karlo ji,” mami said, miffed. “I gave him the correct address.”

“Then why isn’t he here yet?” mama asked.

They walked together to the spot the photographer had gathered both families and the bridal couple.

Arnav’s eyes sought Khushi. She was standing slightly away from the group, half-hidden behind the considerable girth of her buaji.

“Aap yahan khade ho jaayiye, aap yahan,” the professional arranged the members according to their height and gender to suit his notion of aesthetics.

Khushi attached herself to buaji and stood at the far end of the line.

The photographer called her, “Suniye, please come to the centre. Stand behind the bride.”

‘He Devi Maiyya!’ Khushi called desperately. ‘I don’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity of that nasty Laad Governor.’

She waited one moment for a miracle to occur, for the ground to split and swallow her whole, for a tsunami to flood the hall.

Nothing happened.

She swallowed her ire and no with difficulty. If she refused, two families would want to know why. With great reluctance, she slowly moved to stand behind her jiji.

“Aap please yahan aa jayiye, stand behind the groom,” the man instructed Arnav.

Arnav found himself standing next to Khushi, her arm almost touching his. He clenched his fists and jaw.

She moved a tiny step away, not wanting to breathe the same air as him, especially when the said air was scented by his sandalwood fragrance.

"Stand closer,” the photographer ordered.

Unwillingly, Khushi moved a quarter of an inch closer to Arnav.

‘Dheeraj dharo, Khushi,’ she told herself. ‘Just one minute and then you can be free of him forever. He will take his cross face and sharp tongue to Delhi to plague the girls there and you can live in peace in Lucknow.’

Arnav turned his head slightly to look at her face, not because he intended to but because he had no choice. His eyes were trapped by her, addicted to her glorious form.

The photographer said, “Smile, please.”

Khushi turned her head away from ASR.

“Next a photo with the groom and brides’s siblings,” the photographer said cheerfully.

“He Devi Maiyya!” Khushi spoke aloud, wanting to hit her head against the nearest wall if she couldn’t hit jiji’s jetji’s head instead.

ASR looked at her.

She avoided his eyes.

“Kaa hua, Titliya?” buaji asked loudly.

“Nothing, buaji,” Khushi muttered.

“Are you hungry, Nandkisore?” buaji asked.

“No, buaji,” Khushi replied, sighing inwardly.

The group dispersed, except for Arnav, Khushi and Anjali.

Khushi quickly moved away, letting Anjali stand between herself and the factory of insults. She drew in a deep breath of relief. At least she was far away from him.

‘Poor jiji,’ Khushi thought. ‘She has to live with such a shaitan in one house.’

“Maasi, Nannav, Akash, di, I am here,” came a loud call.

All looked in the direction of the call to see a handsome boy with a big smile on his cute face and a leather bag slung over his shoulder.

ASR sighed. "Where the hell were you, NK?" he bit out.

Mami asked him, “NK babua, why are you late? The shaadi ijj over.”

“Woh maasi, Nannav, I went to the wrong hall. I greeted a hundred people, had dinner and then found out that the groom was not Akash,” NK said.

The Guptas gasped. The Raizadas shook their head. ASR looked up at the high ceiling for patience.

Mama shook his head. “Didn’t Manno tell you the wedding was at Dayal Paradise, NK babua?” he asked.

“Is it Dayal Paradise? I went to Royal Paradise wedding hall. Maasi, this Lucknow is very confusing. I got very suljhi here,” NK declared.

“Hein?” buaji asked.

“Uljhi, NK bhai,” Akash corrected him, looking apologetically at his wife.

ASR ground his teeth.

“This is NK, my nephew from Kidney,” Manorama introduced NK.

The Guptas greeted him.

“Who is this beautiful paseena (sweat)?” NK asked, looking at Khushi like a traveller in the desert looks at a jug of chilled water.

Khushi gaped. The Guptas gasped. Akash stood petrified.

“Haseena,” ASR bit out. He gave a smart smack on Akash’s back, thereby enabling him to breath.

“Let’s get the photos taken,” Mama said, “and go in for the feast.” He whispered to his wife, “Thank God the wedding is over. Otherwise the Guptas would have refused to give us Payaliya after suffering through your nephew’s performance.”

Mami pursed her lips. “An insult to my phamily? I will take revenge, Hello Hi Bye Bye!” she declared.

“You have already taken revenge by marrying me, Manno. Ab baaki kya bacha he?” Mama asked, laughing.

“NK bhai, join us for the photo,” Akash invited desperately. “This is Khushiji, Payalji’s younger sister.”

NK smiled widely at Khushi. She smiled back.

ASR’s eyes watched the exchange of smiles, fury burning holes in his heart, body and mind.

NK held out his hand, “Khushiji, I am NK,” he introduced himself.

Khushi hesitated for a moment and then placed her hand in his and shook it.

ASR swallowed hard.

“Hum Khushi he,” she said for the second time that evening.

“Hum bhi bahut Khushi he to meet you,” NK said, still shaking her hand.

Khushi chuckled and freed her hand.

ASR bit his tongue till it hurt.

The photographer said, “Please take your places.”

NK, Khushi, Anjali and Arnav. They stood in that order. The photographer frowned. “Can you stand at the end?” he asked Anjali.

She nodded with a smile and moved to stand by NK.

It was Anjali, NK, Khushi and Arnav now.

“Smile,” the photographer said as he clicked.

NK’s face had a wide smile on it.

Anjali was smiling.

Khushi looked like a rain-carrying cloud.

Arnav looked murderous.

Superb interpretation by Rash:

Part 2…

Fate is like a strange unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don’t always like… This is what both Arnav and Khushi experienced…

NK and the photographer were those little waiters for Arnav and Khushi…

The news of NK being invited and he was about to land amidst them was unpalatable by itself to Arnav… His entry along with a smile that brightened just by having his eyes rest upon the beautiful Khushi irked Arnav to no end… It irritated Arnav making him burn with fury… When Khushi reciprocated NK’s gesture he had himself in an unexplained knot … All he realized was Khushi’s smile was not meant for NK… still unaware that he wanted to be the recipient of that gift…

For Khushi, to be standing next to Arnav while taking the family picture was a bitter pill after the sharp lashing of tongue she received from him… Moreover to be in the same frame as him in the siblings picture was not something she looked forward to…

But fate doesn’t listen to anyone…. It is not an eagle it creeps like a rat…. It is bound to bring changes that creep on us unaware… Some changes look negative on the surface, but one is bound to realize sooner or later that space is being created in one’s life for something new to emerge… But right now both Arnav and Khushi are busy tackling with the changes they sense around themselves as unwanted.… If you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back to you… But when the sun called family begins traversing in the blue sky… the veil of darkness will begin to lift…

The entry of NK is like a catalyst that is bound to stimulate the grey cells of ASR and bring him in touch with the truth of why he really feels threatened by the presence of Khushi and why he feels threatened by NK where Khushi is concerned… His perspective so far has come from the cage he had built around him and held himself in… The ship in the harbor is safe… but that’s not what ships are built for … Now he is being pulled out of that comfort zone…

What a beautiful picture of the bride and the groom with their siblings! One beaming like a bright cheery sun, another beaming like a cool pleasant harvest moon, the third looking like a cumulonimbus, dark and ominous, and the last one like a thunderbolt, under great strain not to unleash… amidst these were the two love birds shying away…

Loved the update Smita…