13. Khushi's Red Lehenga


 The Sangeet was being enjoyed by the hordes of people invited by the Raizadas and the Guptas. The house, built on the lines of a football stadium, was decorated with lights and flowers. Tables groaned under the weight of numerous dishes and sweets. Ladies in bright colours and expensive jewellery added to the glitter of the evening.

Khushi, dressed in a red lehenga with a very short choli, stood on the fringes of the crowd, trying to avoid the sharp eyes of a man who missed nothing.

His eyes travelled over her bound hair with jasmine flowers, her red, flowing lehenga of pure silk and chiffon with crystals and beads scattered across it, the short, very short choli, the expanse of her bare waist, her fair arms adorned with red bangles gleaming in the light, her slim, swan-like neck clasped in a loving hold by a chunky necklace, her ear drops caressing the fine skin of her neck...and swallowed. His fingers itched to untie her hair, let it fall across his face...his pillow... He was so looking forward to dancing with her later this evening.

Khushi saw his eyes linger lovingly on her, and felt her heart go dhak dhak. He Devi Maiyya! How can I stay in the same room as him and breathe? She raised her clenched right fist towards her heart, trying to still its rapid pace.

Arnav smiled, the slight quirk of his lips telling Khushi that he had noticed her discomfort and took pleasure from it. "Ye Laad Governor Bhi Na...", Khushi swore. And she had to dance with him...He Devi Maiyya, hamari raksha karna...



Nanheji had found himself glued to his bed on New Year morning, and in his mad struggle to free himself, had fallen and broken his leg. So Khushi was stuck with the dulha's other brother, Mr. Akdoo Singh Raizada, as her dance partner.

"I can't remember my name when he looks at me. I can't even remember where I am. How will I remember my dance steps?", Khushi wailed silently. The practice sessions during the last week had been torture for her. His fingers running over her waist (thankfully covered by her suit), his fingers clasping hers, his pulling her close during the dance, his eyes...haaye his eyes looking into hers... She had finally found a way to counter the jadoo of his direct, melting stare. She had kept her eyes shut, tightly shut during the practice. She had felt the laugh rumbling in his manly chest, but she hadn't cared. Her instinct for survival had been working overtime then.

The same instinct for survival had sounded a red alert when her amma & buaji had picked this red lehenga for her to wear for Jiji's sangeet. Red, his favourite colour. No..., she had screamed silently. The short, very short choli, leaving her waist bare...Hey Devi Maiyya, no..no...please, spare me. The very thought of him touching her during the dance... But Devi Maiyya & Buaji had been in a mulish mood. All her tears and tantrums had failed, and she had been stuck with the very Red, very Short Choli-wallah lehenga.

Sigh!

But she was not Khushi Kumari Gupta for nothing. She hadn't given up. She refused to leave her hair loose inspite of all the pleas from her family, and bound it up tightly. She pinned the dupatta to her dress  to hide as much of her choli's revealing back & bare waist as possible. Then she plastered a smile on her face and joined the party, trying to look as though she had not waved a very red flag at a waiting, impassioned bull.

Arnav turned his head reluctantly, to greet a guest.

Khushi took her chance and scooted from there, leaving dignity behind. The kitchen? No way. Hari Prakashji would be around. Shyamji too had to be avoided at all costs. Arnavji's bedroom... Maybe she could hide between the pots by the poolside... There would be dark spots in the garden anyway... And he would never suspect that she was hiding from him in his own bedroom. With a smile of glee on her face, she ran into his room.

Arnav turned around, but she was gone.

His heart laughed. Where would his kabootri go in his house? Not the kitchen, Di's room, or the terrace. Only his bedroom & the poolside. Her favourite place in his house, the spot she wandered to whether she was happy, sad, or worried. Arnav moved unhurriedly, but with purpose towards his bedroom.

Khushi heard his slow, measured steps coming towards the bedroom, and in her panic, did what she had done before. She ran towards his wardrobe, slid it open, and clambered inside. It was full of his shirts and T-shirts, jackets, coats... She made a place for herself among them, and slid the door shut, leaving a small gap for her to breathe.

Arnav walked into his room. He could feel her here. He turned and locked the door behind him. Had she gone out into the garden? Or was she hiding in the bathroom?

He cocked his ears, and heard the faint sound of her payal from his wardrobe. Biting down laughter, he slowly slid the door open. The cabinet carried the smell of her jasmine flowers. The perfume would never leave his clothes...or his soul.

She was sitting among his clothes, her knees raised to her chest. Her eyes were scrunched shut like a kid's. Her arms held a shirt of his close to her, breathing in his fragrance as though drawing strength from it.

Arnav gently stroked her soft cheek. She opened startled eyes and stared at him, like the hunted looking at the hunter.

He gathered her in his arms, and carried her to his bed. She sat there, looking at him, mute. He slowly found his way through the multitude of pins she had pushed into her hair, and removed them one by one. He untied her hair, enjoying each heavy breath that she took, each shiver, each clench of her fair fingers when he touched the bare skin of her back or her neck. Once her hair was unbound, he removed her jasmine flowers and scattered them on his bed. She looked at him and then at the flowers scenting his bed. He looked as though he could eat her alive.

"I...I have to go...now", she stammered.

He knew she was right, unfortunately. Someone would come searching for them soon. He caught hold of her right hand, and led her out of his room.

The family members and guests took great pleasure in watching Payal and Akash and Arnav and Khushi sway to romantic music. No one noticed the glittering promise in Arnav's eyes as he held his heart's delight in his arms, or the thudding heart and betraying tremble of Khushi's body as he touched her at will.

"Thank God, they aren't fighting!", said Anjali.

"Maaa...Get a brain, Anju. And a new set of eyes while you are at it", said Laxmi.