34. SS: Living Without You (Parts 1-25)



Part 1

AUGUST 14
She smiled and smiled as she packed her clothes in her ratty bag.
"This is the jewellery set that Nani gave me for doing well at the Heer-Ranjha act. Please return it to her after I leave." She placed it on his laptop table and went back to rooting in her cupboard.
Arnav stood, arms crossed, his full focus on her.




"Khushi..."
She couldn't let him speak. "Your clothes have to be collected from the dry cleaners tomorrow. Please ask Hari Prakashji to do so."
"Khushi..."
"Ji? I have so many accounts to settle with you." She smiled.





She extended Rs 300 towards him. "This is the money you lent me to buy colours for Holi."
He stood still, making no move to take it. She placed it safely beneath the jewellery box.
She came back to him, not meeting his stern gaze, with a small packet.
"This is the Rs. 55,000 I owe you. You paid Rs 30,000 for Babuji at the hospital, and I owe you Rs 25,000 for damaging your car by ramming it with Bediji's scooter." She smiled, and placed it along with the Rs 300.
She brought out another, bigger packet from her cupboard.
"I don't know how much this is...", she said hesitantly, "...but this is the full amount that you placed on my plate on our dining table in Laxmi Nagar the night you kicked me out of RM. My Babuji's shop was to be auctioned off, and he was sick. I thought I would use your money to help him. But he didn't need it. By the time I contacted him, the shop had already been sold. So I rolled up the money in the paper and put it under my clothes in Buaji's house."
She kept it on the table, and smiled.




"Stop smiling!"
Her smile faltered.
"Why? Why shouldn't I smile? After all, my name is Khushi." She smiled a naughty smile, and quickly moved away from him, not wanting to risk her neck. Her sanity and her heart were on the line anyway.
He pulled her to him, his hands on her arms, desperate.




"Khushi, I am sorry... I should have trusted you. I...I am sorry...Very sorry... You don't have to go..."
She frowned at him as though perplexed.
"I don't? But our contract period is over. Now you don't have to see my face, the face that you hate. And I don't have to listen to you screaming at me...", she added in the best of spirits as she freed herself and walked away from him to the cupboard again.
She brought his Mama's kangans and added them to the growing pile.
She said cheerfully, "I am lucky I don't have to pay you the 1 lakh as per the job contract I had with you. Anjaliji made a deal with me that if I came to train Lavanyaji, I wouldn't have to pay her that amount."




Arnav swallowed. "Dammit! I don't want your money."
"I don't want yours, either!", she chirped. "I know you think that I have no dimaag. And maybe you are right. But now that this thought has struck me, I have to tell you. Otherwise I won't be able to sleep.



When Anjaliji is slightly better, please give her a job in your company. She is very smart, very sharp.  She is truly your sister.
If you don't want her there, then please arrange for her to help out at some clinic for the poor. She will feel better when she helps others, when she sees that there are many who are more unfortunate than her. Their courage will help her stand on her own two feet. It will teach her to be happy again."
She smiled. "It is just a thought. You must do what you think fit..."
Arnav cleared his throat, finding it difficult to breathe.
"It is time for me to go."
"I..I will drop you."
"No, no... If you come with me to Buaji's house, the neighbours will gather around you asking why we have come home. Amma and Buaji will be so happy to see you that they won't let you go to your office today. A clean cut is the best." She smiled.
"Khushi..."
"There is just one thing that I would like you to do..."
"Yes?"
"Explain our 6-month contract marriage to your family. If they ask me, I...I won't be able to answer them."
Arnav nodded, feeling all shaky inside.
She lifted her shabby bags, and turned towards the door. Arnav reached the door before her and opened it for her.
She looked at him.
"If you are determined to go to Buaji's house, I will take you, Khushi.", he said, knowing that his sin was without pardon.
She didn't get an opportunity to argue with him. Mamaji and Nani came upon them.
"Khushi Bitiyaa, where are you going?"
"I am taking her to her Buaji's house, Nani."
"Accha, but come back in the evening. This house needs your laughter, Bitiyaa..."
Khushi hugged Nani, and smiled brightly, remaining wisely silent. She took her leave of the other family members, and got in to Arnavji's car.

They sat, silent, lost in their own sad thoughts. Arnav stole a look at her pensive face.
"From where did you get the money to pay me?"
She looked at him. He had his eyes on the road. Sighing inwardly, she said cheerfully, "My Amma had left me her jewels. I sold a necklace."
"What the... Tumhari Himmat Kaise Hui! How dare you sell your mother's jewellery?"
She remained silent, as though he were addressing some third person sharing the car with them.
"Where did you sell it? I will buy it back.", he fumed.
"I don't want it anymore..."
He stared at her, nonplussed.
"She would rather that I sold it and moved on, rather than leave you without paying what I owe you..."
He ground his teeth.
"I would like to look at myself in the mirror..."




He stood on the brakes. The car squealed to a stop on the bridge where they had had their last big quarrel.



Part 2

(All pics credited to Shruti_P)


He stood on the brakes. The car squealed to a stop on the bridge where they had had their last big quarrel.
She looked at him. His face looked carved in rock, his jaw was clenched. His hands on the steering looked capable of squeezing the life out of it.
She released her seat belt, and unlocked the door. He looked to see her standing by the car on the quiet road.
"What the..."
He leaped out of his car, and circled it to stride towards her.
"What is wrong with you? Why did you leave the car?"
She looked confused.
"I thought you were abandoning me half-way through. As you usually do..."
His nostrils flared. He clutched her arms.





He wanted to shout at her, ask her if she thought that he would throw her out of his car on this remote road, but her face had the answer painted on it. He didn't have to ask. She firmly believed that after all that he had done to her over the last year, after the many times he had shouted 'get out' in varying degrees of anger and frustration, he was fully capable of abandoning her on the road.
"My bags. Can you get me my bags?"
"Get in the car!", he fumed.
She looked at him uncertainly, and slowly got into the car. She quickly fixed the seat belt. She didn't want to irritate him further.

"I am sorry, Khushi, that I hurt you..."
She deliberately misunderstood. "It is alright. I am used to it." She rubbed her arms, and smiled.
"No... I meant I am sorry I didn't believe you about Shyam."
She remained silent for a while. Then she said,
"You wanted to protect Anjaliji. That's good. You are a good brother. But you didn't care how it would affect my life. The 6-month contract marriage, your anger, your hatred..."
"Khushi, I want you to stay in RM. I don't want you to leave..."
She smiled. "But I do want to leave. How long will it take to get a divorce? Will you start the legal proceedings?"
He remained silent, his head bowed. He would never be able to look her in the face again.
"Will you contact a lawyer?"
"We...we cannot get a divorce."
"Why not? Anjaliji has applied for one from Shyamji."
"Y..yes. They...they are m...married..."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"We... we are n...not really m...married. Our...our marriage was not...not legal. There were no w..witnesses, no saat phere, no p..pujari, no registration of marriage..."






The silence in the car was killing.
He had wanted her to stop smiling a few moments back. Now the pale, cadaver-like immobility of her features scared him.
"You wanted to hurt me, didn't you? At the end of six months, you wanted to be free of me. And you wanted to laugh at me, because I had unwittingly ended up doing what I said I would never do. Have  a live-in relationship. You knew what I felt about it, you knew and used that knowledge against me...", she whispered after a while.
What could he say? The truth, the ugly truth that stood bare in the bright light was despicable enough to kill any feeling that Khushi might have had for him, any iota of love that had survived their terrible marriage... No... live-in.







"It was deliberate, wasn't it? If you had wanted to marry me, even for 6 months...even if it was based on blackmail, you could have approached your family and mine on Jiji's wedding day. We could have married in the same mandap, in front of the same guests. But...but you never intended to marry me, did you, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada?"
"And you pretended to be my husband, my family's damad... Amma, Babuji, Buaji... I ... thought you were my husband, even if it was only for 6 months...", came her wild, weak cry of pain.
Her hands touched the thin string of black beads around her neck. Her fingers struggled with the clasp, and slowly removed it from her neck. She looked at her mangalsutra, lying coiled like a snake in her palm. She handed it over to him. He sat looking at her bare neck, naked without the mangalsutra.
He remained helpless, speechless, watching her wipe off her sindoor, her face cold and calm.





"Shall we go?"
"Khushi... Khushi... Will you marry me?"
"Why should I?"
"Because I... I love you."
"Love?", she asked sarcastically.
"Yes. Because I love you...because I trust you."
She smiled a sad smile. "But I don't trust you. I don't trust you to look after my interests, to love me forever, to stay with me...And whatever I have seen of your love has put me off it. Please take me to Buaji's house... I can't bear this anymore..." She closed her eyes, her head bent forward.
He drove towards Laxmi Nagar, glancing at her every now and then. She sat unmoving, as though the slightest motion would break the dam of her control.
Finally he parked near Buaji's house. She jumped out of the car, and snatched her bags from him. As he stepped forward to accompany her, she said, "No. They l..love you too much as it is. You are not...not their damad... Don't make it harder for them...to live on...after..."




He swallowed hard.
She left him behind as she made her way into her Buaji's house.



 Part 3


Buaji opened the door, and almost fell on her back. A whirlwind named Khushi Kumari Gupta had thrown itself on her.
"Sanka Devi! You will kill me one day! Are you a girl or Toofan Mail?", she asked, panting, her hand on her ample chest.
Khushi hugged her mother, laughing and talking, excited.
"How did you come here? Did Arnav Bitwaa drop you?"
"Yes, Amma."
"Hai Re Nandkisore! Why didn't he come in? It has been so long since we saw him."
"Haan Jiji, it has been too long. How is Damadji?"


(Thanx, Shruti_P)

Khushi smiled. "He is perfectly fine. Busy, that's all."
"How is Anjali Bitiyaa?"
"She is much better, Buaji. She is going to get a divorce from Shyamji."
"Thank God, she is going to be rid of that rakshsas!"
Khushi smiled.
After hugging Babuji within an inch of his life, she said, "Amma, Buaji, I am a bit tired. Let me rest for a while."
She went to her room with her bags, and locked the room behind her. Amma and Buaji went to the kitchen to make all her favourite dishes.

But nobody had lunch that day.
"I need to speak to you about something..", Khushi said as her family gathered around the table.
Amma, Buaji, and Babuji looked anxiously at each other.
"Is Damadji alright?"
"Is his diabetes giving him any problems?"
"No, he is fine. Please... please forgive me. I have caused you a lot of trouble over the years. I... I  just want to tell you that..." She looked at the anxious faces turned towards her. "I just want to tell you that my marriage is over..."
Without looking at the pain and shock on their faces, she continued in a hurry, "Shyamji was  determined to kill Anjaliji to marry me. Arnavji didn't want that to happen. I didn't want that to happen. So we entered in to a contract..." Her voice gave way. Hours of crying into her pillow had taken their toll. ..."For six months. So that Shyamji would stop harassing me, chasing me, hurting me. So that he would return to Anjaliji and her baby..."
"Contract marriage...", whispered Buaji.
"For six months...", stammered Amma.
Seeing the devastation on their faces, she knew that she could never tell them that their Damadji hadn't been their Damadji, that he had blackmailed her into marrying him, that it had been a live-in warmed up to look like a marriage.
"We planned it together, Arnavji and me..", she smiled.
"You were living in one room...", Amma was horrified.
"You don't have to worry, Amma. Don't you know Arnavji? He was a perfect gentleman. In his room, I slept on the bed and he took the recliner. Here, we slept with a barrier between us." She smiled.
Buaji ran to get the red cloth she normally tied around her head when life got too bad.

Arnav sat at the dining table for lunch, letting the conversation between his Di, Nani, and Mami go by him. He was lost in his thoughts. The food lay untouched on his plate.
Nani teased him," Why Chotey? Are you finding it difficult to eat because Khushi Bitiyaa is not here to serve you?"



(Thanx, Illyria)

His spoon fell from his hand on to the table with a clatter.
Di said with a gentle smile, "She will be back in the evening, Chotey. Have your lunch."
Arnav wanted to tell his family the truth. That Khushi had left him. That his chest hurt. That he couldn't breathe. That he had hurt her in the worst way possible, stripping her of her dignity and self-worth. That he had denied her his trust, withheld it when most needed. He wanted to cry.
He was used to straight talking. Tact as a virtue was a total stranger to him.
"Khushi won't be coming back today."
Mamaji, Akash, Mami, Di, Payal, and Nani looked at each other and him.
"Did you have a phight with her, Bitwaa? Has she rootke gone to her maiikke?", Mami was the first to respond.
'No. I had a contract marriage with her. For 6 months. It was over last night. She has returned home..."
"Contract marriage?, Ooo Kaa Hei?" Again Mami was the first one to find her voice. "She was willing to stay in one room with you for 6 months... " Her voice trailed away.
Arnav stepped in. "She did it to save our family pain. She wanted to protect our family, our honour..."
He left the room.

Nani and Di settled down on either side of him. He was sitting on his bed, fingers clasped, elbows on his knees, head bowed.
"Chotey, is Khushiji alright?"
"No, she is not."
He told them everything that he had ever done to Khsuhi, starting with the photoshoot in Lucknow.
All three of them had tears in their eyes when they came to the end of the tale. Anjali was weeping, broken.
"Chotey! You have treated Khushi Bitiyaa very badly. You had no right to destroy her life and her self-respect.", Nani bit out, angry that her grandson could be so thoughtless, so cruel. "Did you...?"
"I slept on the recliner and Khushi used the bed."
"Thank God!", both the ladies exclaimed.
"Don't let the news of the live-in go out of this room. Mami... You know her. And Payal will feel hurt."
The ladies nodded.
A while later, Anjali said, "We as a family have harmed Khushiji beyond belief. I... my bad judgement should not destroy your and Khushiji's lives... Chotey! What do you want?"
"Haan, Chotey! What do you want?"
"Khushi, as my wife...", came his low, sure voice.
"It will be a difficult battle.", they warned him, hugging him from either side.
"I know. I have to win her trust and love. I am ready."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Nani and Di jumped up in excitement. "Let's go to the Guptas and ask for her hand in marriage."
Nani kissed him on his forehead, and Di hugged him.
"Let's give the good news to Mama, Mami, Payal, & Akash."




Part 4


Buaji opened the door to find the entire Raizada clan waiting on her doorstep.
"Hai Re Nandkisore! What happened? Is anything wrong?"
"Aren't you going to invite us in, Madhumatiji?", asked Nani, smiling.
"Yes, yes, of course. Garima... we have surprise visitors..." They greeted Nani, Akash, Mamaji, and Mamiji as they entered. Anjali and Payal received hugs.
"Arnav Bitwaa didn't come?", Garima asked the family, disappointed.
"Damadji hasn't come?", Buaji sounded tearful.
"I am here, Buaji, Amma...", he said from the doorway. He had gone to park the car in Happyji's garage. He had not been very sure of the kind of reception that he would receive from Amma & Buaji. After all, he had sullied the reputation of their daughter. Forced her into a 6-month live-in, even though it had been a platonic one.
They hugged and kissed him.
"Bitwaa, we are very grateful to you. You saved Titliyaa from that evil man's clutches."
"We didn't know that he had been harassing her in RM too..."
"It is just that we thought that the marriage was real, that you were our damad...", they said, unhappy.
So she hadn't told them anything about the marriage being invalid. He continued with the lie that she had told her family, the lie he wanted to be true.



(Thanx Shruti_P)

"I am your damad, now and always..."
The Raizadas looked on, amazed at the love that the Gupta ladies showered on Arnav, and even more amazed at Arnav enjoying this display of affection. He went in to see Babuji, while the rest of the family sat in the living room talking.
Naniji broached the matter of the wedding.
"We have come to you with a request, Madhumatiji. Please don't say no."
Buaji looked at Garima, and said, "Anything that is in our power to do..."
"We would like to ask for Khushi Bitiyaa's hand in marriage for our Chotey."
"We are sorry for the confusion and pain that Chotey has caused Khushiji and you all. It is all because of me...", whispered Anjali, guilt weighing her heart down.
"No, no, Nandkisore! Don't think that, Bitiyaa. Don't blame yourself for what that rakshas did. And don't blame Damadji alone for the contract marriage. Titliyaa said that they had planned it between them..."
Nani looked at Anjali. Both of them looked at Arnav standing near Babuji's door. They smiled at him.
"Where is Khushi Bitiyaa?"
Buaji sighed.
"She has gone to Tiwariji's office to book train tickets for Lucknow. After she told us about the contract marriage, she said that she wanted to return to Lucknow and revive her father's business. We tried to stop her, but she is determined to go..."
"We didn't want to send her alone to Lucknow. So we told her that we would all go. The house has been locked up for too long as it is. Payaliyaa is safe here. We can come over once in a while to see her. Sasi babua can meet his old friends..."
The Raizadas looked at Amma and Buaji in shock. Nani and Anjali glanced at each other, and at Arnav. His face reflected his shock.
Khushi breezed in.
"Amma, Babuji, Buaji, we have got tickets for Lucknow..", she announced cheerfully. Her feet and words stilled at the sight of the crowded living room.



Her smile faded, and then returned with renewed vigour. The act had to be kept up. She wanted to hug Nani and Di, but was not sure if they would like her to do it, after the news they must have received.
Seeing Khushi hesitate, the two ladies went up to her, and hugged her thoroughly. Mamaji & Akash greeted her, Mami smiled at her. Payal hugged her, asking her why she hadn't told her about Shyam's harassment and her contract marriage. Khushi sighed. So Arnavji hadn't told his family about the live-in. No wonder the family was so happy with her.

She looked at him, standing near Babuji's door.
"Khushi, I would like to talk to you. Alone."
Khushi hesitated. He was no longer her husband. Not that he had ever been...
"Haan, haan, Parmeswari, take Damadji into your bedroom and talk with him...", Buaji encouraged her.
Arnav turned and walked into her room. The room that he had shared with her. Left with no other choice, Khushi followed him.
"Why didn't you tell your family that I had tricked you into a live-in?", he asked, outwardly calm.
Her angry eyes, filled with tears, stared at him.
"Because I didn't want to hurt them. Because they think the world of you. They love you, trust you more than they do me. As though you were their long-lost son. I didn't want to break their hearts. I didn't want to tell them what kind of a man you are!", she threw at his face. "I don't know why I am explaining all this to you. You will never understand...", she muttered.
"Will you marry me, Khushi? We can get married today, tonight. Or tomorrow, in the morning..."
"Marry you? Marry a man who is hell-bent on destroying me? Who is willing to slaughter me, shatter my life to satisfy his ego? What kind of security will I have in that marriage? What is going to happen to me the next time you get angry?"
"Khushi..."
"When you saw me on the terrace, standing still while Shyamji hugged me, you lost control over yourself, didn't you? You felt an anger that you couldn't control. Anger that I could do this to you. Anger that the great Arnav Singh Raizada could be fooled, cheated, hurt, betrayed by a slip of a girl with no wealth or aukat..."



"Isn't this what happened to you after we met at the Dargah and I was foolish enough to run after you with your mannat ki chaabi? Then you retaliated by airing the video clip of my falling into your arms at the fashion shoot, didn't you? D...Do you know what happened to me when the programme aired, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada?", she hissed. "I found myself standing on the street circled by street thugs who thought I was fair game, who snatched my d...dupatta off me and left me to stand in their midst, naked. And worse still, they hurt Babuji. They hit him and pushed him down when he came to my help." She tightened her hold on the bedpost.
Arnav looked at her, his eyes wide in shock, anger at himself eating into his guts.


(Thanx, Shruti_P)

"Mr. Raizada, your Jijaji is the worst scoundrel on earth. But I am thankful to him for one, single act of his. He saved me from the hooligans."
She leaned forward.
"Your ego makes you what you are, doesn't it, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada? If your ego feels the pinch, then you cross all bounds to strike back, don't you? Regardless of the cost? Regardless of how your actions affect another person's life? You react without thinking things through when you are angry, don't you? Your reason goes out through the window when anger enters through the door, doesn't it?"



Her eyes spit fire at him.
"In Lucknow, you tried to strip me of my reputation. You drove me out of Lucknow. My family cried tears of blood at the humiliation they had to face. But all that didn't matter to you, did it?"
"I survived then. But this... You have destroyed my life, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada. You have left me with nothing. Not my self-respect. Not my life. And worst of all, you have humiliated the family that was foolish enough to take me in 10 years ago. You repaid their love for you with..." She shook her head, disappointed in him.
"I will never forgive you, Mr. Raizada. You have now driven me from Delhi, back to Lucknow. And I have nothing more to lose. My self-respect, my family, my future, my reputation, my honour, my life, my faith in others, my wish to live, my marriage, my husband... I have lost everything. I hope you are very happy with the results of your thoughtless actions...", she looked at his stunned eyes.




"All that matters to you is your sister and your family, your ego and your work. They are all safe, aren't they? Your ego is satisfied, isn't it? Very good. Please go and have a happy life. And leave me alone.", she said quietly.
"You will get to see my family once in a while because you are Jiji's jetji. But I will never come to Delhi again. I will not set foot into your house again. I promise you that I will not visit Jiji during the festivals and the family functions that will demand the presence of her family. I...I hope, Mr. Raizada, that I never have to see you again in my entire life."




 Part 5
 
"All that matters to you is your sister and your family, your ego and your work. They are all safe, aren't they? Your ego is satisfied, isn't it? Very good. Please go and have a happy life. And leave me alone.", she said quietly.
"You will get to see my family once in a while because you are Jiji's jetji. But I will never come to Delhi again. I will not set foot into your house again. I promise you that I will not visit Jiji during the festivals and the family functions that will demand the presence of her family. I...I hope I never have to see you again in my entire life..."
They stood silent in two corners of the small room, the bed between them, and stared at each other.
Arnav wanted to cry. He had destroyed everything she held dear. Only her spirit lived on. And he couldn't lower himself to extinguish that spirit even to save his life.



"I...I wanted to punish you, Khushi. For hugging Shyam, as I believed. For loving him. For not loving me when I loved you so much... I am sorry. I should have thought, I should have investigated... More importantly, I should have trusted my heart instead of my eyes and his lies. The only excuse I can give you is that I am not used to feeling like this, loving someone..." He paused.




"I did force you into a supposed contract marriage that was not a marriage, Khushi. I did. That is my sin, my crime... But not for a single moment did I think of you as anything other than my wife. You owned my heart, my life, my breath. Without you... The thought of you leaving me...". He drew a deep breath.
"I was tied to you the moment we met, Khushi... There was no way out of this bond for us then. There is no way out now...
I will marry you, Khushi. You will be my wife. And I will be your husband. Regardless of how many days it takes. Regardless of how far you run away from me..."


He said, his voice firm and sure, "I will place the mangalsutra around your neck, Khushi... I will fill your maang with sindoor. And you won't have to step into RM. I will carry you over the threshold. You won't visit your Jiji for festivals, Khushi... Because you will be living in the same house with her. I promise. You can avoid coming to Delhi, Khushi. But you can't stop me from visiting Lucknow."
She looked at him, her eyes wide open in shock.
"I forced you, blackmailed you into marriage last time. This time I will marry you when you choose me of your free will..."
He sighed. "I need to control my anger, make a few changes to my life. And you...you need to be away from me... I don't want to let you go. Not now, not ever. I want to carry you away to RM, to our room NOW. But I won't. I have hurt you too much. I will wait, till you believe in my love for you.



By the way, everyone except Nani, Di, you, and me thinks that we were in a contract marriage. Let it be so."
"You told Di and Nani! But they were not angry with me...", she whispered, uncertain.
"They were angry and disappointed with me, Khushi, because I had hurt you. As they should be. They love you, Khushi. As much as Amma and Buaji love me."
Khushi looked at him, mouth open.
"They came to ask for your hand in marriage, for me."
Khushi's eyes grew wider, if that was possible.
He strode across the room, his long legs eating up the distance between them. He pulled her into his arms, his face buried in her hair.
"Go to Lucknow, if you want to. But know that where ever you go, I will follow you like a shadow. Because I have no existence without you...just as Ranjha had none without Heer", he whispered in her ear.


(Thanx, Shruti_P)

He released her, and at the door, he paused and turned.
"And know that where ever you go, whatever you do, you will carry me in your heart. Only me."




Part 6

All eyes turned to look at Arnav as he left Khushi's room and joined the family. He took a seat beside Buaji, and said softly, "Khushi needs more time to think."
There was perfect silence.
"This Sanka Devi!", exclaimed Buaji.
Arnav smiled. 
He said, "Let her go to Lucknow and start her business. We will visit frequently. I will call regularly. We can arrange the marriage in Lucknow when she is ready to marry me."
All heaved a sigh of relief.
They had come to Laxmi Nagar in 2 cars, and Arnav whispered in Akash's ear that he needed a few more minutes alone with Amma & Buaji, and asked him to take the others home. Akash smiled, and put his hand around Arnav's waist and hugged him. The family finally left.

Arnav joined Amma & Buaji at the doorway. Khushi was still in her room.
"Amma, did Khushi take her mother's jewels from you?"
"Yes, she took a long necklace. She said that she had to pay someone. Maybe it is the man she is doing her dabba business with..."
"No, it was me."
Buaji and Amma looked at each other, and him.
"Do you know where she may have sold it?"
"Bitwaa, she knows only one jeweller here. She had accompanied me to his jewellery a few months back to pawn two of my bangles so that she could start her halwai business."
So that was how she had made sweets for Di's wedding anniversary. And he hadn't even paid her!
"Buaji, can you come with me to the shop and identify the necklace?"
"Haan, Nandkisore! But..."
"She has lost her mother. I don't want her to lose her mother's jewellery too."
Buaji and he went to the jewellers, both of them hoping that the piece hadn't been sold. They were lucky. The jeweller was happy to sell it back to them. Arnav paid him, feeling relieved.



He handed over the jewellery to Buaji, asking her to keep it.
"No, Damadji. It is yours now. You keep it safe. You can give it to Khushi after she marries you."
Arnav looked at the necklace in his hand.
He said softly, "Buaji, if Khushi tries to sell anymore of her mother's gold, or if you have need of money, please call me and let me know. I will buy the gold from her. I will send you the money, as much as you want, when ever you want. Just call me. Let me know..."
Bujai sighed.
"If Titliya tries to sell her Amma's jewels, I will definitely let you know, Babua..."
"If you need any help, money or a doctor or servants or whatever, please let me know..."
Buaji hesitated. Then she nodded.
Arnav took down Buaji's phone number, and dropped her back home. He left without seeing Khushi.

The Guptas had one week to shift to Lucknow. They spent the time cleaning the house, packing, repairing a couple of faulty locks, covering the furniture, paying all the bills, and informing the neighbours.
All of them were busy, but no one was as busy or happy as Khushi. Amma and Buaji watched her trying to outrun her memories of Arnav Bitwaa, sit in front of her food and not eat, come out of her bedroom in the morning with black circles under her eyes, and sighed for her. They didn't know what was wrong between Khushi and Arnav, but they were certain that it wasn't a lack of love. They had seen his love in Arnav's eyes, and Khushi was dying for him. Whatever misunderstanding had sprouted between them, had to be tackled by them. Time and patience alone could help them. They watched her, and attended his numerous calls every day asking after her.
She raced around the house, doing one thing after the other, a big smile on her face, keeping herself so occupied that she had no time to think of him. She fought with herself, her memories, him... every moment of every day. The nights... If only she could work at night too. But...
After Babuji, Amma, & Buaji had settled down for the night, her real torture began. If after pacing the length and breadth of her room, she finally fell in to fitful sleep, he would invade her dreams.


(Thanx, Xarshi)

She would feel his fingers smoothing her hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek, his hands cupping her face, his fingers touching her hair... She would wake up, sweating, her heart thudding loud enough to be heard a mile away. Or she would wake up, dreaming that he had left her alone in the dark, and jump out of bed to search for him... Part of every night was spent in making pile after pile of jalebis.
He had infiltrated every part of her life. Her room, her bed, the mosquito net, even the sheets, her table, her Devi Maiyya, the plants he had watered and nurtured in pots, the cooler he had repaired, the dining table he had shared with them, the cot he had sat on, the constant queries about him from the neighbours, even the clothesline that he had tied for Buaji...all these were killing her. She wanted to run out of the house, and hide herself in some deep, dark jungle so that she could cry her heart out, scream in anguish without having to worry about what her family would feel...
She kept her phone switched off. She didn't know if he would call, but she didn't want to take the risk. But she knew that he was in constant touch with Buaji and Amma. He talked to Babuji over the phone, even though Babuji found it difficult to form words. His family and her Jiji were always in Laxmi Nagar, walking in and out of the house, helping them pack... She never let them talk about him, never asked about him. They had repeatedly asked her to switch on the phone, but she had smiled and evaded the issue.
Jiju had made it a point to talk to her daily, ask after her health...She was not ill, just dying...missing him...But she refused to admit this even to herself. She lived from day to day, struggling to draw each breath.
Krishna Janmashtami passed in a haze. Memories of the last Janmashtami, of how the ghee had fallen on his cuff, how she had tricked him in to coming down for the pooja by switching off the lights, how she had forced him to participate in the function...all of them lashed at her from all directions. She spent the whole night making jalebis.
She finally switched on the phone on the eve of their departure. It was flooded with missed calls. From him, from Di, from the Raizada house land line, from Jiji, from Jiju... She called all except him, talked to them, was all cheer and enthusiasm, trying to fool them in to thinking that she was happy to be leaving.

It was time to leave for the station. Akash had come in his car. He helped them place their luggage in the vehicle, and helped Babuji in. At the station, Khushi busied herself stacking their bags while the Guptas greeted Anjali, Nani, Mami, Mama, and Jiji who had come to the station to see them off. Anjali hugged Khushi.
"Don't be a stranger to us, Khushiji. I will call daily. Please don't switch off your phone."
"No, Anjaliji. I will keep it on..", Khushi muttered, embarrassed.
"Di, not Anjaliji."
Khushi hesitated.
"Di, not Anjaliji.", she insisted.
"Di...", repeated Khushi, reluctantly.



Anjali handed over packets of food for the Guptas, and Akash and Mamaji helped Babuji into his seat. They arranged the bags in the space provided. Nani hugged Khushi, and whispered, "I am waiting for the day you return to RM as our Badi Bahu..."
Khushi drew a deep breath, and said shakily, "Naniji, you know...that it was all a lie. I...I was not your... Bahu. I was just... It was all just..."
"You were our Badi Bahu then. You are our Badi Bahu now. You will always remain our Badi Bahu...He hasn't slept or eaten properly since you left. His medicines..."
Khushi winced.



"Khushi Bitiyaa, you love him very much, don't you?"
Khushi stood silent, looking at her hand in Nani's strong clasp.
"It is only where love is great that pain is great too. You look exhausted. He has been working 24 hours since you left. It hurts to look at his face. Return soon, Khushi Bitiya. I would like to see you living happily with Chotey before I die..."
Khushi smiled weakly.
"Chotey has many faults. Some are his own. Some, he inherited from his parents. Some, he picked up in the line of his work. But I don't think he is a hopeless case. He is willing to change, and only you can help him change. Don't let go of his hand..."
Khushi swallowed.
"He loves you more than his life, more than his principles, more than his family, more than anything on earth. Promise me, Khushi Bitiyaa..."
She looked nervously at Nani.
"Promise me that you will let him woo you, give him a chance to prove that he is serious about you, that he can change for you. Don't send him away, and then spend your entire life crying while he works his way under the ground. Promise me..."
Khushi nodded.
Nani kissed her forehead, and moved away to talk to Buaji.
Khushi stood there, her hair flying in the breeze, her dupatta floating around her. She stood unaware of the crowd around her, her eyes lowered, till she felt her neck tingling. She looked up to see him standing in front of her.



It had been one week since she had seen him. Her eyes greedily ran over him, checking that he was alright, safe. He was in his formal clothes, wearing his blue shirt. Must have come directly from his office, she thought inconsequentially. He looked tired, his cheekbones more prominent, his eyes...his eyes were devouring her. She stood there, trembling, trapped by his eyes, her eyes revealing the depth of her pain and longing to the man who wanted to absorb her into his being. They stood silent for a long time. Then he spoke,
"Khushi..."
She stood silent.
He extended his hand towards her. She looked at the packet.
"Take it. It is for you."
She looked around. All the family members were looking at them.
Her fingers trembled as she took it.
"Call me if you need anything. Anything at all. I will never disappoint you again."



"I will manage."
"I know you will. But I don't want you to manage if you have a difficulty. Call me."


(Shruti_P, thanx a million)

She nodded, looking away from him.
"Khushi..."
She looked at him.
"I am setting up an office in Lucknow. I...I will meet you soon..."
"But...but you hate Lucknow."
"Yes.", he sighed, "I hate Lucknow. But I love you."




Part 7
 (Pics credited to Shruti_P)

Arnav looked into her eyes.
"You know that I love you. And I know that you love me, Khushi. But you won't admit it because you don't trust me to trust you, to take care of your heart, to look after you..."



Khushi lowered her eyes.
"You are punishing me for one year of pain and humiliation I have meted out to you. I can take it. I will take it. But can you?"
Khushi swallowed.
"Can you stay without seeing me, Khushi? The past week has been hell. Hell, Khushi. It must have been the same for you. Punish me. But why are you punishing yourself?"
Buaji and Amma had taken their seats, and were chatting to the Raizadas and Payal through the window. It was time for Khushi to go.



Arnav took hold of her hand, and slowly helped her up the steps. Reluctantly, with great difficulty, he slowly withdrew his fingers from hers, dragging out the moment.
She turned and walked away to join her family.
The train slowly moved away. The two families waved at each other, but Arnav and Khushi had eyes only for each other, both feeling the loss keenly. For the past one year, they had fought with each other, shouted at each other, hurt each other. But they had been together. Now...for the first time...




Khushi sat staring at the packet that Arnavji had given her.
"What did Arnav Bitwaa give you?", Amma asked, curious.
Khushi slowly unwrapped it. Inside was a packet of channa, a bag of ber, and 2 film magazines. Her eyes filled with tears.



Amma, Buaji, and Babuji laughed.
"He knows our Sanka Devi very well! Walking around eating ber and channa, her head in the clouds, dreaming of Salman Khan!"
There was another small package within the big one. She flipped it open. Inside was one earring of hers, and a note.



I took both earrings. I am returning one. Let the other remain with me till you return to RM as my wife.

Tears trailed down her cheeks. Her fingers traced the shape of her earring, and moved on to touch the words in his letter.





Lucknow may have looked the same, but the Khushi Kumari Gupta who looked at it was different. She had changed, grown up. Love and loss had made their mark on her heart.
Their house, Gomti Sadan, needed cleaning. The 3 ladies quickly cleaned Babuji's room and settled him inside. Then, they moved to the vast courtyard and the numerous rooms on two sides of the central courtyard, arranged in 2 storeys. After the rooms, they had to tackle the white-washed main building at the end of the courtyard.
News of their arrival spread fast. Their neighbours and friends dropped in, some with food, all ready to help in cleaning. It took two days to make the house liveable.
Two days of frantic mindless work, running up and down, washing and wiping, dusting and arranging, had cleared Khushi's mind. She knew exactly what had to be done. After all the friends had left, she went to Babuji's room. He was sitting in his chair. Buaji was helping Amma to fold their clothes. Khushi sat down at his feet.


(Thanx, Archa2810)

"Babuji, when you told us that we had lost our shop, I felt as though our world had fallen around our ears. I lost hope. Satwik Mistaan Bhandaar. I thought that you had lost everything that you had worked for, toiled for... Babuji, when I think of you, I see your face through the fumes of burning oil. And the sweat pouring down your face and neck... To know that it was all lost. An entire lifetime of slogging in the heat, and nothing to show for it..." Her eyes filled with tears.
"Babuji...", she hugged his legs and placed her head on his lap. "Babuji, I was foolish. I thought that Satwik Mistaan Bhandaar was a shop. It is not, Babuji. It is you. Satwik Mistaan Bhandaar is where you are, where you sit. You are the soul behind it, Babuji. Nobody can take that away from us, can they?"
Tears filled Babuji's eyes.
"Let's start it here, at home, Babuji. In our courtyard. We can use two of the rooms in the front to sell sweets. I have dusted the old name board, Babuji. Let's hang it within a week and start our business. The air will be full of the smell of Imarti, Gujia, Kheer, Gulab Jamun, Balushahi, Petha... Your old friends will come here to see you... I will meet the managers of the hotels you used to supply sweets to. If possible, we can start a dabba business too, later on."
Babuji nodded through his tears. Amma and Buaji hugged her.

The next two weeks were hectic. Khushi arranged for workers to paint the house and build her cabinets to display the sweets. She hired Munna and Krishna to help her with the work. They cleaned the huge vessels and pans used by Babuji to make his sweets.
She ordered sweet boxes with Satwik Mistaan Bhandaar printed on them, saw to licenses and insurance, ensured that the wiring and safety measures in the shop were perfect, met her father's friends and informed them that they were back in business, approached her father's previous regular customers & collected their orders, placed orders for ghee and oil and besan and milk and cashews and a hundred other ingredients needed to start making sweets.
The days were busy. But the nights... The nights were torture of a special kind, designed specifically to drive her out of her mind. She couldn't sleep. If she switched on the radio, it would play some love song aimed directly at her heart. If she switched on the TV, she would see some lovelorn pair in a movie or a serial. He had taken up residence within her head. She was going mad, ready to pull out tufts of her hair in frustration.

Yaad piya ki aaye...
Yaad piya ki aaye...
Yeh dukh saha na jaaye Ram, haaye Ram.
Yaad piya ki aaye...


Anjali called daily. So did Arnav. So did Nani and Payal. Mamaji called a couple of times, and Mami once. Khushi spoke cheerfully of the arrangements being made to all, except Arnav. Professing to hate someone was easier when the object of supposed hatred was living nearby and could be seen regularly. Khushi realised this when she found it very hard to drum up hatred for Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada when she was in Lucknow and he in Delhi. She had to list all the horrible things that he had done to her, and repeat them to ensure that she didn't forget. Finally, she took a notebook and wrote them all down. She couldn't afford to forget or forgive.
When he called every night, she couldn't stop herself from attending his calls. But she remained mostly silent, listening to his voice, missing him.



"Khushi..."
"Ji..."
"I will be shifting to Lucknow next week. I will have to travel to Delhi and other places frequently, but I will be based in Lucknow for the next few months."
"Ji..."
"Khushi..."
"Ji..."
"I can't find a shirt of mine. I searched the entire wardrobe. Do you know where it is?", he drawled.
Her palms started sweating, the phone was in danger of sliding down.
"How can I know where your shirt is?"
"I remember putting it in the basket for washing.", he said sweetly.
"I don't know where it is. Why don't you ask your sister?"
"Mmm... I should. But somehow, I thought I should ask you first.", he teased.
"I am going to sleep. Good night."
He laughed.
She cut the call.
She looked at his shirt on her pillow. He had so many shirts. Why did he have to miss one white shirt? 



 Part 8
(All pics credited to uploaders)


It was raining when Arnav Singh Raizada reached Lucknow. The city of tears, of loss, of pain, of Sheesh Mahal, the venue of some of the most devastating experiences of his life... His mother... His father... His Di's aborted wedding... His uncle forcing them out of the house...And Khushi... Khushi...falling in to his arms from the ramp... He arranging for her to be locked up... His interrogation of her... His harsh words and her tears... Her helplessness and the way in which he had broken her dori of pearls...



He leaned back against his seat, drawing deep breaths. His head was pounding. His throat hurt. His body ached.Last year, after the photo shoot, he had ordered the renovation of Sheesh Mahal, and its conversion into a hotel. One suite, the room that his mother had used, was reserved for him. But he had never returned. His mother's room lay unused.




He walked into Sheesh Mahal, feeling slightly dizzy. Working round the clock for the past one month without proper food had been pure folly. He had wondered if he would make it to Lucknow, if he should postpone the trip. But Khushi... Fever, distance, travel, fatigue, all meant nothing if he could get to see her. It had been one month since she had left his house, 3 weeks since she had returned to Lucknow. He shivered in the chill wind.
He intended to stay in Lucknow in Sheesh Mahal for long as it took to convince Khushi to marry him.  Aman was negotiating the purchase of another hotel in Lucknow city, and also overseeing the interior decoration of his new office in Lucknow. New staff had been hired, state-of-the-art audio-visual equipment had been purchased, conference rooms had been designed, and training sessions were on. Everything was ready for Arnav Singh Raizada's arrival. His day was filled with meetings till late evening. He sighed.

Arnav had called Buaji two days back to let her know that he would be reaching Lucknow on September 14^th, and that he would be staying in Sheesh Mahal and visiting them that night. He called her to confirm his arrival.
"Buaji..."
"Hai Re Nandkisore! Arnav Bitwaa, have you reached Lucknow?"
"Haan. I have meetings till evening. I will come to Gomti Sadan at night."
"Why does your voice sound odd? Bitwaa, are you alright?"
"Haan. Just a cold. I might be a bit late..."
"That's alright. Where are you right now?"
"I am going to my new office now. Aman is waiting for me there. I will see you at night."

Khushi walked back from the temple, muttering to herself.
"He Devi Maiyya, give me strength. He is coming here today. Please, please, help me control myself. Please don't let my heart lose control. Let me not forget all his cruelties, his live-in. Let me not forget that he does not believe in love and marriage..."
"Marriage? Whose marriage? Khussi, is your marriage fixed? Who is the unfortunate man?", Rajesh Chacha walking ahead of her on the road asked, smiling.
She looked at him, horrified.
"No, no. I was just..."
"Khussi is walking about with her head in the clouds again...", he chuckled.
She fumed. How come she had become a standing joke in Lucknow? As though she didn't have enough to worry about.

She walked into the courtyard, muttering to herself.
"Hey, Parmeswari! Where were you till now? We have been searching for you for the past half an hour."
"I..."
"Arnav Bitwaa has reached Lucknow. But he is not well."
Khushi paled. His sugar level...
"Did he faint?", she asked faintly.
"Faint? Can he talk to me if he has fainted? This Sanka Devi! But his voice sounds different. He said he has a cold, but I think he has more than that. He has meetings all day, and will come here only at night."
"I will make a kada, Buaji. You and Amma can go and give it to him."
"Hein? Me and your Amma? Do we look like your servants? Make the kada. All three of us will go to his new office and give it to him."
New office? Khushi quickly put the mixture for kada on the stove and called Amanji for directions to the office. Amanji seemed pleased to hear from her, and gave her the location. She asked him if Arnavji was well. Aman looked at a smiling Arnav sitting beside him and said that he was fine. Arnav instructed the guards to let Khushi and her family in and to let him know when they came.

Buaji, Amma, and Khushi reached the new office of AR Group in Lucknow. It was a big building with a posh decor and numerous employees scurrying here and there, trying to meet deadlines. Amma and Buaji looked around in astonishment. The guards handed them over to a female employee who asked them to wait for ASR in a tastefully decorated lounge with cushy chairs and lavish flower arrangements.



Arnav came out of the conference room, his heart thudding, his eyes eager. This was an unlooked for pleasure. Why had Khushi decided to see him in his office? Was she trying to warn him away?
Buaji, Amma, and Khushi stood up as he walked into the room. For one second, they stood looking at each other. She was wearing a pink and green Anarkali.



She looked beautiful, like a dream, like his dream, but tired. Khushi swallowed hard. The skin on his face seemed to have been drawn tight over his features, his eyes looked feverish. She wanted to throw her arms around him and keep him safe.

Buaji, followed by Amma, rushed to him and hugged him.
"What have you done to yourself, Bitwaa? You have become so thin..."
"Haven't you been eating properly, Nandkisore?"
Buaji kissed him on his forehead, and jumped back in shock.
"You are burning up! Why did you travel when you had fever, Bitwaa?"
Amma touched his forehead.
"He Devi Maiyya! You should be taking rest, not working, and that too not in such a cold room."
She led him by hand to a seat, and made him sit down.
"Khushi, what are you doing there, standing and staring at him? Give him the kada...", she admonished.
"Ha...an, Amma...", she sat beside Arnavji on the sofa. His eyes hadn't left hers since he entered the room, not even while listening to Buaji or Amma.
"Bitwaa, can you come home with us now? Do you really have to work till night?"
"Haan, Damaadji, can't you postpone the meetings till you are feeling better?"
"I will come with you."
He called Aman & postponed his meetings. He also made arrangements for his driver to wait with his car outside.
Khushi opened the container with the hot kada, and poured it into a glass. Arnav grimaced. Buaji and Amma laughed.
Buaji said with a smile, "It won't taste bitter when Khushi gives it to you."
Khushi held the glass in her right hand, and slowly brought it to his lips. Her left hand was held under his chin to collect any spills.
He sipped the bitter concoction, not noticing the taste. His eyes were on hers, asking questions and receiving answers. She was dying for him, as much as he was dying for her. He sighed in relief.
"Arnav Bitwaa, will you stay with us while you are in Lucknow?", Amma asked, and then hesitated. "The facilities..."
"Haan, Bitwaa. Stay with us. We have missed having you with us." Buaji hesitated. "The house is old..."
"I will stay with you. I will ask the driver to bring my luggage to Gomti Sadan." Buaji and Amma smiled, delighted, and cupped his face and kissed his forehead.
Arnav left his office, flanked by Khushi, Buaji, and Amma. It had stopped raining.



Arnav looked at the white-washed wall with the small door. 'Gomti Sadan' and the year of construction were written above the door. He crossed the doorway to enter a huge courtyard. A few kadai, pots, & pans were stacked to his left. On his left and right were rows of rooms in two storeys. Facing him, at the end of the courtyard was a white-washed building.
He could see a few customers buying sweets and snacks from the first room on the left. He noticed a boy cooking in the second room. So Khushi had started her business, and she had wisely decided to get help. He walked with Buaji, Amma, & Khushi to the top floor on the right, to the room assigned to him. They settled him in, and while he was in the washroom, Khushi phoned the doctor.
His brand of shower gel, his shampoo, his shaving cream, white towels... His hand trembled as he touched the shower gel. Khushi had filled the huge bathroom with everything he wanted. And she said she hated him. If this was her hate, how would her love feel like?
The doctor gave him an injection to bring down his fever, and Khushi winced. He asked her to wipe his face and body with a cloth dipped in water, and left tablets for Arnav's sore throat and cold. Buaji and Amma fussed over him. He lay back enjoying the worry on Khushi's face as she wiped his face and hands, Buaji's and Amma's love for him... He promised himself that he would never take any of this for granted.
Buaji and Amma left for the kitchen to make him some hot soup. They told him that they had got the recipe from the Sunday supplement of the daily newspaper.
He looked at Khushi sitting beside him on the bed. She looked very worried, her eyes incapable of hiding her concern for him.
"Khushi...", he rasped.
"Ji...?"
"Tum Theek Ho?"
"Ji..", she stammered, her hands shaking.
He caught hold of her arm, and dumping the cloth in the water, locked fingers with hers. He brought their joined hands to his chest, and fell into a deep sleep.

(Shruti_P, u rock!)

Khushi looked at him for a while, studying each dear feature of his face, and slowly placing her head on his chest, fell asleep.
Buaji and Amma came to check on him a while later. Both of them were fast asleep, holding hands, Khushi half-lying on his chest.
"Chalo, Accha He, Nandkisore!", said Buaji.





Part 9


Arnav opened his eyes. The faint light of a setting sun filled the room he was in with a pleasant glow. He felt good. Very good. Warm and at peace. Khushi... He was in Lucknow. He had fever. Buaji and Amma...


(Shruti_P, I can never thank u enough!)

He looked down at the warmth against his heart. Khushi was lying on him, her ear against his thundering heart, her hand enclosed in his. He smiled and tightened his hold around her. His world was in his arms.
She moved her head slightly, prior to waking up. He closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep.
He could feel Khushi wake up. She lifted herself off him, slowly, releasing her hand from his, loosening his arm around her back, till she sat up on the side of his bed. There was silence and stillness for a few minutes. Then her palm touched his forehead to test his temperature. He heard a sigh of relief from her. Her possessive hand slid from his forehead to his lean cheek, down his neck to his chest. It rested there for a while, and then moved down to arrange the quilt around him.
He moved restlessly, fearing that she would leave him and go out of the room. He opened his eyes to see her looking anxiously at him.
"Are you alright now? Do you feel better? You don't have fever now."
"I am OK.", he croaked. He tried to get up from the bed to find to his horror that his legs felt like overcooked noodles.
"Arnavji!", she cried. "Careful. Don't get up. Please tell me what you want. I will do it for you..."
"I need to use the bathroom.", he said wryly.
She blushed.



He sat on the bed, his feet on the ground. Khushi put her left arm under his, and wrapped his right arm around her frail shoulders. Their joint effort paid off. He stood up, Khushi clamped tight to his side. She slid her hand around his waist to hold him up more firmly.
Arnav was sick, not dead. And this was the girl he loved. He made maximum use of the heaven-sent opportunity. He held her tighter still, till she was pressed against his side.
The journey to the bathroom was over too soon. She led him into it, made him hold on to the bar fixed to the wall for hanging fresh & used clothes, and left him to do his business. She closed the door, and stood holding the handle, alert in case he needed help.
She heard the sound of the flush working, and she slowly opened the door, inch after inch.
"You can come in now." , he said with a crooked smile.
She helped him to his bed.

Buaji came to check on him, and was thrilled to find that his fever had vanished. She called down to Garima, who brought him the soup they had prepared.
"Babua, I hope it tastes like it is supposed to taste. It looks like the picture they had given in the newspaper, but Nandkisore...", she said uncertainly.
He stretched a shaking hand towards the bowl. Khushi quickly took the bowl from Amma, and sat down beside him to feed him.
Khushi spooned the soup in to his mouth. The fever could not stop him from feeling that he was tasting ambrosia. The taste further improved when Khushi wiped his lips clean with a small towel.
"Accha he?", the ladies asked, anxious.
"Bahut accha he!", he said, smiling at Khushi.
Amma & Buaji smiled in joy.
"We will make you something like this daily. It will keep your strength up...", Amma touched his hair lovingly. Buaji pinched his chin, and smoothed the covers around him.
They waited till he drank the last drop, and left unwillingly. He had to sleep.

Khushi freshened up and went down to her shop. Munna and Krishna were tending to the customers. The batter for Imarti was ready. She had to supply a sizeable order to Kishorilalji's house this night. She tied her dupatta across her chest and around her waist, prayed to Devi Maiyya, placed the large vessel on the stove, and lit the fire.



As her hands made batch after batch of Imarti, her mind wandered to the source of all her problems, her Laad Governor, the rakshas who could destroy her life with one word or action, the man who did not have the sense to wield his power with care. He had ensured that life as she knew it had come to an end, that her reputation was in tatters, that she would never find an honourable man willing to marry her, that her family would die of shame if they knew about his stupid live-in.
She was hurt, but she was more angry than hurt. This anger was directed at herself, for being weak, for being unable to see him in need, for being unable to forget him, for letting him change the even tenor of her life, for losing her optimism, for letting him steal her sleep at night, for dreaming about him, for stealing his shirt, for being weak enough to need him to sleep well... The list was endless, and endlessly depressing. She promised herself that she wouldn't care about him anymore. Amma and Buaji were only too eager to look after him, like two birds with one chick. Hmmmpphh... Let them care for him. She wouldn't any more. After all, she was not his wife.



Staying out of his room was the first thing to do, she decided. But that was very difficult. Because the room he had been given was separated from hers only by a single room. Amma & Buaji could not be blamed for this. Other than her room, his room alone had an attached bathroom. Babuji's mother who had earlier used his room had been bedridden for about 8 years. Babuji had built the bathroom with all modern conveniences so that she could use it without any difficulty. What could Amma & Buaji do? She sighed. Even fate was conspiring against her.
Munna, Krishna, Buaji, Amma, and Khushi quickly packaged the Imarti, and the boys went to supply them in a rickshaw. Khushi sent the bill with them. She checked the store of remaining ingredients to make sure that she would be able to meet the next day's orders. Their shop was doing well.
As she did daily at the end of the day, she went to sit at her father's feet, giving a detailed account of the orders she had received and met, the money she had spent and made, the flattering comments by the customers, the messages that many customers had asked her to pass on to her father, an amusing incident that had happened in the shop... Babuji smiled, watching the pleasure on her face, and slowly ran his hand over her head.



"Babuji, this is all because of you. All the orders we have got have been from your friends and your previous customers. It is as though they were waiting for you to return. The chachas and chachis who walk in daily to buy what we have made are all your friends. The goodwill that you earned is helping us now. Your honesty and your integrity, that is the secret of our success, Babuji!"
Babuji smiled.
"It has been 3 weeks, Babuji. I will go out to other restaurants & hotels and see if we can get more orders. I will see if we can do the dabba business too here. And we need to print a few flyers too."  Babuji nodded. She placed a good portion of the profit in his money box, hugged him, and went up.
On the way to her room, her feet came to a halt outside his door. She ordered her legs to move forward. She truly did. Her legs obeyed. But they moved forward towards the door of his room. And inside the room. Just one peek, she told herself. To see if he is asleep. She stood at the foot of his bed, watching him sleep.
Then she went to bed to dream of the exhausted man sleeping under her roof.




Part 10

Arnav stretched, feeling energetic and well-rested. Three days in bed in Khushi's house had worked wonders.  He had slept most of the time. His phone had been switched off, his family had been notified by Khushi. Aman had been warned by her not to contact him. He had been free to heal. Every time he had opened his eyes, he had seen either Khushi, Amma, Buaji, or Babuji in his room, sitting by his bed, watching him sleep. They had forced food and water down him, and made sure that he took his medicines on time. He smiled.
He had a lavish bath, and emerged from the washroom feeling like a new man. He went out of his room to go down for breakfast. And stopped short.
On the veranda, outside his room, were placed an arm chair and a small table ideal for his laptop. They  were surrounded on 3 sides by pots and pots of flowering plants. There were even pots hanging from the ledge. He couldn't believe his eyes.



 He touched a flower with his fingertip. It danced in the mild breeze. His throat felt all choked. Khushi didn't want him to miss his plants. She wanted him to feel at home. Khushi...Would she ever admit to him how much she loved him?



He went down to where he imagined the kitchen to be. He peeked into the large room with a dining table in the middle. Amma and Buaji greeted him with joy, thrilled to see him up and about. Babuji smiled at him.
Khushi was making pooris. Arnav's heart skipped a beat as he saw her in her red suit. She looked at him once, and quickly turned her eyes away. She pretended as though she couldn't feel his eyes on her, inspecting every inch of her... lingering on her dori and low-cut back.



Soon they all sat down to have their meal. Munna and Krishna joined them, and soon the room was filled with loud laughter and cheerful banter. As soon as she cleared the table, Khushi went out with the boys to open the sweet shop.  
He switched on his phone, and talked to Di, Nani, Mami, & Aman. Soon Aman and a couple of his executives came to see him. Khushi saw the big car come to a stop outside her house. She sighed. Real life had caught up with Arnav Singh Raizada again.


(Khushi's house with the courtyard: GOMTI SADAN)

Arnav stood, leaning against the railing of the veranda in front of his room, the flowering plants touching the legs of his trousers.



Her shop was in the left row of rooms, across the row containing the  room he occupied. He watched as she went to greet Aman and the others. He would have to meet them in his bedroom, he decided. But there too, she surprised him. She led them to the room next to his, and opening the door, showed them in. She then came to him.
"Amanji and two others have come to see you. I have shown them into your office."
"My what?"
"Your  office."
He went to the room to find that she had arranged a table with an attractive cloth cover, six chairs around it, a fan, and light. He stood astonished at the sight. She went back to her shop.
An hour later, she brought tea and snacks for them, taking care to give him the cup without sugar. When the men thanked her, she smiled and went back to work.

Arnav strolled down the steps, towards Khushi's sweet shop. There were around 4 or 5 people crowded around the display counters. Munna and Krishna were busily packaging the sweets and collecting money from the buyers. Four arms were too few for the job. Arnav slowly slipped into the cashier's seat, and started collecting money for the sweets. The boys heaved a sigh of relief.


(Shruti_P, Thanx!)

When the crowd thinned, Arnav asked Munna, "Where is Khushi?"
"She went to some hotels to ask for orders. She will be back soon, Bhaiyya."
"What do you call Khushi?", he asked the boys, mildly.
"Jiji...", the boys said, hesitantly, wondering if they were going to get into trouble for this.
"Then call me Jijaji or Jiju."
They looked at each other in surprise and then smiled at him.
The boys and Arnav worked together in excellent harmony & good humour. Munna and Krishna talked a lot to a silent Arnav. Male companionship was hard to find here.


(Meet Munna & Krishna)

They talked of the long hours that Khushi worked, how kind she was, how she had permitted them to stay in the room next to the sweet shop's kitchen as they had no place to stay, how Buaji and Amma helped out in the shop whenever they could, how the business was booming, how Babuji's old friends and acquaintances were flooding the shop, how they had received the full order for all the sweets to be served at a wedding to be held next door.
Arnav noticed a special counter of sweets, set apart from the rest. Seeing him look at it, Krishna said proudly, "Jiju,  those are shakkar-phree sweets. Jiji said that we should sell sugar-phree sweets so that even people with shakkar ki bimari can enjoy their desserts".
Apparently, the diabetics of the locality had discovered and liked Khushi's initiative. There was a steady demand for her sugar-free sweets. Arnav smiled, his eyes veiled, hiding his secret thoughts.

Some time later, he heard Buaji calling him.
"Arnav Bitwaa, please come here for a moment!"
He saw that Buaji, Amma, and Babuji were with a group of ladies. Buaji made him sit next to her.
"Babua, this is Shyamala. That is Vimala Maasi..." The list went on and on. He smiled and nodded. She introduced him to the matrons. "This is our Arnav Babua, Payaliya's jetji." She put her arm around his shoulders, hugging him to her. "He had to come to Lucknow for some work, and so has kindly agreed to stay with us."
The ladies were thrilled.
"Payaliya's jetji!"
"Such a handsome bitwaa!"
"Is he married?"
Buaji hesitated, and then said in a faint voice, "No."
"Madhumatiji, Garimaji! What a shame! You are letting a boy of his age walk around without getting him married off?"
Arnav smiled. They made him sound like a potential rapist.



Buaji jumped in with both feet.
"Babua, Madhu is Shyamala's daughter. She is getting  married next week. They have come to invite all of us for the wedding..."
The ladies handed over the invitation cards, and  ooohed and aaahed over Arnav. One lady even went to the extent of pulling his cheek in affection. Khushi who had just come in, saw this and fumed.
"Arre, Khussi Bitiyaa! You have finally come home. You are working too hard. Your stove in the shop gets lit before the sun dawns. Bitiyaa, take care of your health..."
Khushi smiled, gritting her teeth.
"How old are you this month?"
Another lady chimed in, "Twenty three. She is all of 23. She is the same age as my Kavita, and my Kavita is married with a child..."
Khushi shot daggers at the ladies. If looks could kill... If only looks could kill...
"Madhumatiji, Garimaji, even Madhu is 2 years younger to her. Don't worry. I have an Uncle's son's wife's brother's wife's brother in the military. I will write to them, and ask them to send us his kundali. Let's see if it matches with Khussi's."
Arnav's face was a picture. A rival! As though he didn't have his work cut out for him already.
Khushi smiled.
"You are so kind. Please, Maasi, please get us the kundali soon. Otherwise I will sit here like Parvati Devi and meditate for Lord Shiva to come down to earth to marry me! Maasi, please, don't forget about me..."
"You, nautanki!"
"Sanka Devi..."
"What a girl!"
"Koi Pagal Hi Tumse Shaadi karega!"
The ladies left laughing. Arnav had to try very hard not to laugh. Khushi glared at him and at her family. She turned in a huff to go to her room.
Buaji and Amma asked her to wait. They took kajal from their eyes and applied it behind Arnav's and Khushi's right ears. "Nazar na Lag Jaaye!", they said.
Khushi turned and walked away.
Arnav told Buaji & Amma, "If someone asks if I am married, please tell them the truth. That I am married to Khushi."



 Part 11

Arnav dreamt that he was happy, that he was dancing with Khushi by his poolside.


(Illyria, thanx)

She was wearing the red sari that she had worn for the photo shoot in his office.  He held her hands in his, he twirled her, he pulled her close, he released her, he touched the warm, satin-soft skin of her stomach, relishing her indrawn breath, he buried his face in her neck...

(Thanx, Divya-divz)

She was pliable in his arms, but she wouldn't look at his face. He tried his best to get her to look into his eyes, but she wouldn't. He twirled her around him, and suddenly she vanished. He looked at his empty hand. He looked around. It was dark, and there was no sight of her.
He woke up with a start, breathing heavily, sweating profusely. The hand that he raised to wipe his face was shaking. He looked around. It was 3o'clock in the morning. He was in Khushi's house in Lucknow, and Khushi was sleeping in her room. He wanted to see Khushi. He had to see Khushi now...
He eased the door of her bedroom open. She was asleep, lost to the world, lost to the sound of the rain pouring down from the skies. She was curled up under the blanket, only her head and part of her shoulder in a white suit visible. The dupatta was lying beside her on the bed.


(Thanx, Illyria)

He sat down by her. Slowly, his fingers touched the strand of hair lying against her cheek, and moved it behind her ear. She moved restlessly. He touched the line of her jaw, and with a finger, gently traced it down to her chin. Her eyes opened wide.
She sat up with a jerk, and put her hand to her chest, staring at him with wide, startled eyes. She then closed her eyes, and hit her head with the base of her right palm.
"He Devi Maiyya! I am going mad now. Truly mad. I didn't believe it when Buaji called me Sanka Devi, but now... Dreaming about him all night, and then imagining that he is sitting in front of me... I am crazier than Raghu Chacha who claims that he is the Nawab of Awadh and demands that everyone salutes him. What will I do now?", lamented Khushi loudly.
"Khushi..."
"What the..."
"Khushi..."
"You are real?"
"I have always thought so...", he said thoughtfully.
"I mean, you are really sitting on my bed. It is not a dream?"
"A dream? Why should you think it is a dream, Khushi? Do you often have dreams of me?", he asked innocently.
Khushi looked at him with suspicion. She slowly poked his arm with one extended finger. He was warm, solid, male. Too real for her own good. She withdrew her finger rapidly.
She looked into his eyes. His look, the way his eyes travelled all over her... She snatched the dupatta from the bed and covered her chest. He looked at her for a moment, and then in a quick move, pulled her dupatta off and threw it away.
"What are you...?"
"You didn't wear a dupatta when we slept together for months, Khushi. Why do you need to hide behind one now?"
There was a pause.
Then Khushi said in a hushed voice, "Then I thought you were my husband. Now... now I know that you are a stranger."





Arnav looked at her pale face and her hunched body for a while, and then got up from the bed. He walked to the window. It was raining furiously outside. He closed the panels so that she wouldn't feel the cold. He turned to look at her.
"Am I really a stranger to you, Khushi?", his soft, seductive voice made the hair on her arms stand up in attention.
"Yes." She was determined not to give in to his brand of charm.
"You know nothing about me?", he persisted.
"No."
"Even after knowing each other for one year and living together for 6 months of that one year...", he questioned to be sure.
"Yes."
"Why is that, Khushi?"
"Because I have bad judgement. Because, as you have often and correctly said, I have no dimag. Because the world is a hard place with hard-hearted people who do not value feelings. Because..." , she stopped, unable to go on.
"Why do you think you have bad judgement, Khushi?", he asked, his voice huskier than usual.
"Because what I thought you were and what you are actually are totally different. Like the sky and the ocean."
"What did you think about me the first time we met, Khushi?"



(Thanks, Miss-Pakiie-KMH)  

"Rakshas.", she whispered.
He swallowed hard.
"That judgement was correct, wasn't it, Khushi?"
Khushi remained silent, not meeting his eyes.
"Then we met at the dargah. What did you feel then, Khushi?"


(Thanx, Dangelz)

"Scared."
"You were right to feel scared, weren't you, Khushi?"
"Yes. And...and I felt angry. Because your idea of me was foolish and wrong. Me, a gold digger...chasing a rich man. I wouldn't chase you, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada, if you were the last man on earth...", she fumed.
"You don't need to chase me, Khushi. I will chase you..."
Khushi glared at him. "Leave me alone."
"I am sorry, Khushi. I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I am selfish. Selfish enough to want a paradise I have glimpsed now, after years of not believing it existed..."
"Uuhh?"
"You, Khushi. Loving me. Letting me love you. Both of us leading a happy life together..."
"Oh, another stupid live-in with a 6-month clause.", she laughed bitterly.
"No, a marriage. Marry me, Khushi..."
"I won't. Because you don't know the meaning of love, the sanctity of marriage. You don't have any idea how your actions can destroy another person's life. I am not willing to take the risk."
"I thought you were a brave girl, Khushi...", he challenged her.
"I am. Foolishly brave. But not at the expense of my family's safety and security. Earlier, when you used to challenge me, I would foolishly fall for it. Now, I am not interested in your juvenile games."
"Really, Khushi?"
"Really, Mr. Raizada."
She jumped out of bed and charged towards him.
"Sooner or later, my family and my neighbours will get to know of our live-in. I don't know if it will happen in a day or two, or in a few months, or a year. But it will happen. Because truth cannot be hidden. And then, I will have to leave Lucknow. Leave everyone I love, everything that is familiar to me, and go to a new place to start a life. If you can call it a life...", she hissed.  "I need to make sure that I leave a successful mittai shop behind, so that Amma and Buaji can manage it with Munna and Krishna's help. So that they don't have to worry about money in their old age. So that they don't regret having taken me in. So that I am of some use to them..."
"Do you understand now, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada? This is how normal, ordinary, middle class people of low aukat and third-class mentality live and think. We can't all be rich, high-class, unique, broadminded people like you and Lavanyaji. Forgive me, Mr. Raizada, for not playing any more of your games or dancing to your tune."
They stood staring at each other, hearts beating loud and fast, the pain in their eyes speaking more than words.
Her alarm ran right on time.
Khushi switched it off, and said, "I need to start work early today. I got two new orders yesterday. Two restaurants want me to supply them a certain amount of sweets daily."
Arnav nodded. He left the room, reluctantly.



Khushi had her bath, shivering in the cold bathroom. She soon opened the shop's kitchen without disturbing the boys sleeping in the next room. She lit the lamp in front of the picture of Devi Maiyya, prayed, and sat down to make balushahis.




She measured the flour into a vessel. As she stretched her arm to place it aside, the vessel was taken from her hands. Arnav stood beside her.
"Aap..."
"Let me help you."
"I don't need help."
"I know. But I need to help you."
"Why? Your guilty conscience is pricking you?"
"No. Love is pricking this rakshas."
Before she could respond, Munna and Krishna came in to the room.
"Jiji, why didn't you call us? We will have a bath and come soon."
"Oh, Jiju, you are here. Good. We will be just a moment."
The boys went out.
Khushi turned wide, shocked eyes towards Arnav.
"Jiju? When did you become their Jiju?"
"When I fell in love with their Jiji..."
She picked up a small pot sitting harmlessly by her and threw it at him with all her might.
He fielded it neatly and asked innocently, "Jiji's husband is called Jiju, isn't he?"


Part 12
(All pics credited to uploaders)

He helped her make balushahis.
He watched her make the sweet and learnt how it was done, the MBA from Haridwar making it easy for him.



He helped her by handing over vessels and ingredients, arranging sweets on trays, carrying the large trays to the shop so that Munna & Krishna could package them... She watched him with a wary eye.

She was frying the balushahis in ghee.
"Do you know what I felt when I first saw you?", Arnav asked softly.
"No."
"As though a pari in green had fallen in to my arms. All my fatigue vanished. It was like being given a new lease of life."
"Really? I would never have known."
She managed to inject the right amount of sarcasm. After all, she had learnt from the best of masters.
Arnav smiled at her.
"I mean, your eyes say one thing. Your lips...your lips...", she stumbled.
"My lips?" The said sinful lips quirked, as though they knew the effect they had on her.
"Your lips say something else."
"What did my eyes say when you fell into my arms, Khushi?"
She blushed.
He whispered, "Shall I tell you? That I was fascinated by you. That I had been searching for you for years and had finally found you. That I wanted to carry you away from other eyes, into a world of our own. That I wanted to kiss your sweet lips..."
Khushi blushed, and quickly averted her face.
"Kiss your lips, your eyes, your neck..."
"Bas Kiijiye. Please don't talk to me like that."
"Why not, Khushi?"
"I don't like it."
"Or do you like it too much?"
The slotted spoon fell from her hand.
"Kuch Bhi Keh Dete He Aap!"
"I love to see you blush!"
"Arnav Babua!", Amma called. "Khussi... Aren't you coming for breakfast?"

"Why are you making Babua work in the sweet shop? If he sweats too much, won't he be ill?"
Khushi brought hot, steaming puris to the table.




"I am your daughter. First worry about me. After that, if you have any worry left over, you can give it to your Arnav Babua...", pouted Khushi. Arnav smiled.
"He Sanka Devi! If we had to worry about you first, there would be nothing left over for any body else."
Mealtimes were great fun, what with a silent Arnav and Babuji enjoying the company of the 3 ladies and Munna & Krishna.
Arnav waited for a gap in the conversation, and said, "Khushi, why don't you supply sweets for the functions held at Sheesh Mahal? Shall I ask Aman to contact you?"
Khushi's eyes flashed fire.
"No, thank you."
"Hein?", Buaji and Amma looked astonished at her. Babuji, Munna, & Krishna looked wonderstruck.
"Jiji, you were going from hotel to hotel to get orders. So why don't you want to take Jiju's offer?"
"That hotel is too big, the functions too lavish for us. We won't be able to meet their demands. We are too small to take up such big orders."
"Then why don't you supply lunch to my new office?"
"Haan, Jiji. That's a wonderful idea, isn't it?"
"No, thank you. I don't intend to supply food to offices."
She got up and left the table before others could add their recommendations.




She went to the shop's kitchen, and started on her routine work. Soon a sea of milk for peda was bubbling away on the stove. She needed to get the tin of sugar down from the ledge on which it was placed. She stood on her toes and stretched her arms as far as they could go. She sighed in defeat. She would have to either search for a stool to climb on or get one of the boys from the next room. As she opened her mouth to shout for Krishna, she felt Arnavji's hands rest on her shoulders. She stood as though turned in to a statue. He pressed himself close to her, as close as humanly possible, and breathing in the fragrance of her hair, said, "Shall I get it down for you?"
She may have hummed. She was not very sure.
He lifted his arms to reach for the tin, slooowly.
"What is in the tin?"
"Uuhh?", she asked intelligently, panting so hard that the effort cut off all air supply to her brain.
"What is in the tin?"
"Something..."
"Something?" She could hear the amusement in his voice. That woke the sleeping lioness in her.
"Sugar... sugar. The tin has sugar in it."
"Oh, sugar."
He brought it down, and placed it in her hands, touching her fingers, enjoying the feel of her soft skin under his hard ones, her fair fingers looking fragile in comparison with his bigger, harder, darker ones.
"Jiji, Madhu didi's Amma has come. She wants to increase the order for sagai...", Munna shouted.
"I am coming. I am coming..." Khushi said, and ran out of the room, panting.
Arnav smiled. How could one person smell so good? How could her jasmine fragrance remain with him all day, teasing him?

He was dressed for the office. He had to meet potential clients and his top executives. As he walked past Khushi's kitchen on his way out of the courtyard, he heard a couple of whistles.
Shocked, he turned around. Munna and Krishna had their fingers in their mouths, ready to whistle again.
"Jiju, you look like a film hero!"
"No, all tip-top like a bridegroom!"
"Girls of this mohalla are going to follow you to your office today, Jiju."
"So many of them are going to lose their hearts to you."
Arnav blushed.
Khushi was flushed too. With anger and an uncontrollable jealousy.
"Don't you have anything to do inside? Go in. Girls in the mohalla. Hmmpppfff...", she snorted, shooing the boys inside.
Arnav laughed out loud.
She glared at him.


"Come down from high heaven. The boys are just teasing you. The girls in this mohalla are too smart to fall for a coat and tie."
He laughed.
Sunita came to buy peda, and blushed when she saw the handsome guest visiting Madhumatiji.
Arnav smiled at Sunita.
"Don't you have to go to the office?", Khushi asked him. She pushed him out through the doorway, towards his car.

"Khushi...?"
"Now what?"
"Why did you buy the flowering plants for me? The shower gel? Shaving lotion? Towels? Set up an office for me?"
"Because...because you are our guest. Yes, because you are our guest..."
"So you were being hospitable."
"Yes, yes."



"Khushi, I looove your hospitality. I think I will just stay here forever. Buaji, Amma, & Babuji love me. Munna & Krishna like me. The ladies in the neighbourhood are trying to find me a wife. The girls are smiling at me...", he drawled.
Khushi ground her teeth, and raised her hands to do him some bodily harm.
"And...and most importantly, you love me."
She stood there stunned.
He pinched her cheek and drove off, smiling.




Part 13


He returned home from the office exhausted, his body still weak after the fever. He walked past the sweet shop, just smiling at Munna's and Krishna's loud greetings.



He looked in to the kitchen. Khushi, making laddoos for Madhu's sagai the next evening, took one look at him and raced to the kitchen in her house.
Arnav came out of the washroom to find Buaji, Amma, & Khushi in his room. Buaji led him to sit on the bed, giving him a big mug of tea. As he sipped the tea gratefully, she smoothed her fingers over his left hand held within both of hers.
"Babua, you should have taken rest for a few more days."
"Can't you stay at home for a couple of days more?", asked Amma, touching his forehead to check if the fever had returned.
"Haan, Nandkisore."
"There are a lot of projects pending because I was sick for 3 days, Buaji, Amma. I need to go to the office."
Khushi silently gave him a big plate of pakoras.



"You are just like Khushi's Babuji. If the workers worked for 6 hours, he would work for 8."
"Haan...", smiled Buaji. "Sasi Babua spent more time at his shop than at his house. The children literally grew up there."
"Amma, Buaji, let Arnavji take rest." Khushi looked at him. "We will come and call you for dinner."
"Yes, yes, you take rest." The ladies got up to leave.
Buaji said, "Bitwaa, it is Madhu's sagai tomorrow evening. If you can come with us for it, it would be nice. But only if you don't have work. If you are busy, it is OK."
"I can come at 6o'clock. Will that do?"
"Yes, yes, that will do, Nandkisore. It is just next door. The families have known each other for years, Babua. Their children are like ours, and they love Payaliya and Khushi. So they will be very happy to have Payaliya's jetji for the function.", Buaji smiled.
Khushi took the empty mug & plate from him, and set them aside. Buaji and Amma made him lie down, and Khushi covered him with the blanket. They dimmed the lights and left the room, Khushi turning to look at him a few times before leaving.

Khushi did not open the shop after dinner. There was a huge load of sweets to be prepared for Madhu's sagai. Munna, Amma, Buaji, Khushi, and Krishna set to work, with Babuji sitting in his wheelchair watching them. Every now and then, one of them would take a sweet or some syrup up to Babuji to ask his opinion about it. Babuji would smile and make gestures or half-formed words to convey his feelings. Arnav watched the deft hands moving swiftly, modelling sweets, frying, stirring, mixing, all of them happy and cheerful.






Buaji told him of the many naughty tricks Payaliya and Titliya had got up to in their childhood, and Munna and Krishna teased Khushi no end. Khushi pouted and retorted, teasing them all in return. He helped as much as he could, enjoying spending his time with this family.
It was late, and the work was almost over. Buaji and Amma had taken Babuji to his bedroom to settle him in. Munna and Krishna were in the next room loading the prepared sweets in to big containers to be handed over to Madhu's mother in the morning. At one corner of the kitchen, Khushi was stirring a mixture in a big vat with a slotted spoon having a very long handle. Arnav took a stand behind Khushi, putting his arms around her and his fingers over hers, helping her stir the gooey mass.
Khushi stood, afraid to move, the warmth of his hard body pressed against her back driving every sane thought out of her head.
"Khushi..?"
"Jiii?"
"So you are selling sugar-free sweets in the shop...'
"Haan...", she said hesitantly. What if he found out that she had done so because of him? Because she had wanted him and other people like him to enjoy their desserts?
She said in a stern voice. "There are diabetics other than you in Lucknow. Don't think that I did this for you."
"I don't think so, Khushi. I know so." He smiled.
Her fingers tightened on the handle. He would drive her to violence soon. He would drive even Gandhiji to violence.


(Thanx, -Sush-)

"Don't you miss Delhi?", she tried, desperate.
"No."
"Don't you want to see your family?"
"I can see them on the webcam."
"Your office in Delhi? Aren't you scared Jiju will make a mistake? If you stay here for too long, the AR Group might miss you too much and collapse in sorrow!"
"No. I trust him."
"When are you going back home?"
"I am home."
"I mean, when are you returning to Delhi?"
"Only after you marry me."
There was a pregnant pause.
"Then you will never have to go. Because I am never marrying you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Very sure?"
"Y..yes."
He moved his hands to her shoulders and dragged his lips along the nape of her neck.
The slotted spoon fell with a clatter into the mixture.




She turned around and pushed him away. The sweet was done. She switched off the fire, and glared at him.
"Khushi, why did you refuse the catering at Sheesh Mahal?"
"I have no desire to work for you."
"You wouldn't be working for me, Khushi...", he sighed. "You would be just supplying sweets to a hotel I happen to own."
"Well, I don't want to."
"Why did you refuse to supply food for my employees? You were doing the dabba service in Delhi too."
"I don't want to supply food for your employees."
"Khushi, don't let your anger towards me damage your business."
"I have no intention of letting you damage my business. That's why I refused the orders that you offered."
He looked at her, unable to understand her reasoning.
"Lavanyaji was your girl friend. She was also your employee. When you threw her out, she lost not just her boy friend, but also her job. I have no intention of following in her footsteps, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada."
"Khushi! I didn't throw her out. It was a mutual decision."
"Rubbish. A mutual decision! That too when one of the pair is you!"
"Khushi, I didn't love her. I didn't want to marry her."
"I am sure you didn't. But she loved you and she wanted to marry you. And you knew it. I mean, you couldn't miss it. She must have told you this a hundred times. So, if the engagement did not happen and if she left, it was because of you. Only because of you. Because you wanted out. You decided that she should leave, and forced her to accept your decision. That is your definition of a mutual decision."
"Khushi!"
"You blackmailed me, dragged me up the steps of a temple, and threw sindoor in my maang and the mangalsutra around my neck. You fooled me into thinking that it was a marriage for 6 months..."
"Had Shyamji's true face not been exposed, then at the end of 6 months, you would have kicked me out of RM, laughing at me for imagining that I was Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada. That would have been the end of my dabba business in your office, regardless of how much I had invested in it.", she said, her eyes showing her fury.
"Now you are free of me. And I am free of you. I don't want to have to do anything with you. I don't want to take up catering in your hotel or office because I don't want you to have any role in my personal or professional life. I want to be independent of you. Because I don't trust you to look after my  interests. Last time you played with mine and my family's honour. I will not risk my family's security this time. You look after your business. I will look after mine."
Arnav ran his fingers through his hair.
"Khushi, I will never harm you."
"I don't believe you. And you have already harmed me enough. I am not hanging around waiting for you to do more damage. And I never want to hear your nonsense about me chasing you for your money, leading a life of luxury at your expense, and all that..."
"Khushi...?"
She looked at him.
"I know I have hurt you. I have disappointed you. I am sorry for it, sorry for everything... from the first word I spoke to you to the last one, sorry for hurting your feelings, for trapping you in a live-in..."
She said nothing. She just looked at her feet. He came to her and cupped her face in his palms.


"But Khushi, if I am so bad, why do you love me so much?"



 Part 14



"But Khushi, if I am so bad, why do you love me so much?"
"L..llove you? I... I don't l..lllove you. Who said I l...lllove you?"
He continued as though she hadn't spoken.
"You say you hate me, but why can't I stop loving you, Khushi?"
"That...that is your problem.", she said, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to sound firm.
"I spent one year telling you that I hated you, when all the time I loved you more than my life, Khushi. Will we spend one year with you telling me that you hate me while you love me more than your life? Khushi, do you really want to repeat my mistakes? Aren't you smarter than me, Khushi?"
"I said that I... that I don't l...llove you."
He pulled her into his arms, and looked down into her upturned face.
"I can see the love in the flowers and plants you gave me, Khushi, the way you filled my bathroom with all the things I am used to, the sugar-free sweets you make, the way your eyes search for me in the crowd, the way in which you touch me, as though you can't get enough of me..."
Khushi realized that her hand on his chest, instead of keeping him away, was caressing him. She curled her fingers in to her palm, hoping that he hadn't noticed.
He smiled.
"I can see your love in the jealousy you showed when some girl smiled at me..."
"Jealousy? I am not jealous. Why should I be jealous if some girl smiles at you? Or if you smile at some girl?"
"So it doesn't matter to you if I smile at some other girl?"
"Of course not. You can smile at...at anyone you want."
"That's good.", he said, his tone reeking of satisfaction. "Maybe there will be some one really pretty at Madhu's sagai..."
She ground her teeth.
"It is good that you are so understanding..." He swooped down on her and kissed her cheek.

The sweets were all supplied to Madhu's house, and the whole family except Khushi was ready and dressed when Arnav came home at 6pm. He drank the tea and had the kachoris that Amma brought to his room.



"Amma, where is Khushi?'
"She finished her work just now, Bitwaa. She has gone to dress. She will be ready soon."



Amma smiled, cupped his cheek lovingly, and went down.

Arnav changed, and walked up to Khushi's bedroom, careful not to make a sound. She was standing in front of an array of brightly coloured clothes, unable to decide what to wear.
If she wore the pink anarkali, it would be easier to start working when she returned.
On the other hand, Arnavji liked her in red, especially in red sari.
But why should she bother about what Arnavji liked? She was neither his girl friend nor his wife.
So maybe the pink anarkali. Her hand stretched towards the pink dress, but stopped half-way through.
There would be many pretty girls at the sagai, especially Madhu's cousins from Kanpur. They would see Arnavji. Of course, they would see Arnavji. Even a blind girl would see Arnavji, and behave like an idiot around him. The girls would chase him around the place trying to flirt with him. Grrr...
She didn't want to go for the sagai. But Madhu... They had been friends for years and years. And Madhu wouldn't be getting married again. No 6-month marriages and live-ins for Madhu. Khushi sighed. She had to go. The pink Anarkali or the red sari? Or something else? Her fingers touched the red sari, and moved away.
A hand appeared from behind her, and reached into her pile of clothes to pull out the red sari.
She turned to look at his serious face. The look in his burning eyes dried up the stream of words on her lips.
He threw the red sari on to the bed, caught her shoulders, and pulled her to him. He kissed her on her forehead, pulled her hair free of its knot, and left unwillingly.


Khushi joined her family, Arnavji, Munna, & Krishna,  wearing the red sari that Arnavji had selected. She had returned it to the wardrobe 3 times before deciding that she would wear it. Arnavji's eyes said that her efforts were much appreciated. What if he knew, no, imagined that she had worn it because he had selected it? She sniffed, lifted her chin in the air, and marched out of her house, leaving a chuckling Arnavji far behind.




Madhu's house was lit with lights. Children ran up and down, ladies laughed, men gathered in groups and chatted, music played. As Buaji, Amma, Babuji, Arnav, the boys, and Khushi in her red sari entered the house, Madhu's parents came to welcome them. The pooja was already over. Madhu's and her bridegroom's families exchanged gifts. Madhu was given lots of presents by her prospective in-laws, and the ladies were having a gala time cracking jokes and chuckling. Then Madhu and the groom exchanged rings.




Khushi stood among a group of her friends, teasing Madhu. Wind played with the long, silky strands of her hair, lifting and dropping it, caressing her face with it. The red sari made her look like a goddess. Her golden skin gleamed in the bright light. Her smile lit up the room and his life. He stood lost in her, seeing nothing but her...



She felt his eyes on her and turned to look at him. She had to look away. His eyes seemed to be burning hot, capable of singeing her skin. She couldn't stop her eyes from going back to him. Caught like a fly in the honey-sweet look in his eyes, her numb fingers dropped the keys to the house. It fell at her feet, in the folds of her red sari.
He started to move towards her, one step at a time, coming closer and closer, the look in his eyes more and more dangerous to the health of her already weak heart. He came as close to her as possible, enjoying, no, loving the look of love in her eyes that she was helpless to control.
He bent his head.
Her heart stopped. Was he going to kiss her?
He bent down and picked up the keys she had dropped. He slowly lifted up, caught hold of her right hand in his, and placed the keys on her palm, running the tip of his fingers across the tight skin of her palm. She shuddered. Arnav smiled in to her eyes.The ladies watching them trembled in excitement. Khushi had finally found her mate!
Khushi left Madhu's house at the earliest, taking care to slip out when Arnavji was busy answering some question that Madhu's father had asked him. She ran to her house, opened the lock with shaking fingers, the key slipping from the hole twice, and finally let herself in.
She ran into her shop's kitchen, and frantically rounded up the ingredients for her favourite stress busting activity. Making jalebis. She pushed the end of her pallu into the sari fold at her waist and got down to having fun.
She made the batter while the oil heated up and the water for the sugar syrup boiled. Without waiting for the batter to settle, she began to make coils and coils of the sweet, sitting on a low stool.
Familiar hands on her shoulders was the first sign that she was not alone. She almost dropped the ladle into the syrup. She turned her head to see Arnavji on his knees behind her. He rested his body against hers, and ran his hands down hers. His fingers trapped hers. His face was buried in the crook of her neck.
"Khushi...?"
"Mmm..."
"Will you teach me how to make jalebis?"
"What the...?"
He smiled, his lips moving against the taut, scented skin of her golden neck.
His fingers led hers to the cloth holding the batter. He lifted it.
"Khushi, put your fingers over mine and teach me how to make the coils...", he whispered in her ear.
Like a damsel in the magical powers of a wicked magician, Khushi obeyed. She clasped her fingers over his warm, big ones, and slowly taught him to make designs with the batter in the angry oil.



"Khushi, I saw the most beautiful girl in the world today at the sagai...", he confessed.
Her heart stopped beating.
"I wanted to carry her off to my room...lock the door so that we could be alone...hug her...touch her silky hair, her creamy skin...lay her down on my bed and..." His voice had never sounded more seductive, more arousing.
"Who is it?". Her voice sounded as though someone were strangling her.
"I can't tell you her name, but I can show you who she is."
"Uuhh?"
"She is the girl I will be kissing in the next 2 seconds..." His husky voice in her ear sent shivers down her spine.
He kissed her neck. Her fingers clenched around his holding the bag of jalebi batter. She jerked.
"Careful...", he warned, the smile in his voice making her heart melt in to a puddle.
He bit her ear softly.
Khushi yelped.
"Softly... Koi Sun Lega...", he teased.
She turned affronted eyes at him.
"You bit me!"
"Did I?"
"Yes, you did.", she bit out.
"OK. You can bite me in return if you like...", his innocent eyes tempted her to her downfall.
She looked at his chin, his throat, her mouth watering for a taste of him.
"N...no", she said manfully.
"Shall I bite you some more then?", he murmured.
"Nooo." She was dying.
"Sure?"
"Yyyess." Why did Devi Maiyya make him so hazardous to her health?
Arnav leaned towards her to persuade her to change her mind, his lips looking forward to kissing her shoulder, when they both heard the family returning. Buaji's voice as she talked with the others, sounded happy.
"Later...", Arnav murmured in her ear, giving it a last kiss as he got up silently to leave.




Part 15
 (All pics are credited to the one & only Shruti_P!)


Arnav twiddled with Krishna's transistor. It had been giving the boy trouble for a couple of days, and Krishna was very upset. He loved to listen to music while working, and even the customers and Munna were now used to the company of Chammak Challo and Munni while choosing jalebis and making kheer.
He switched it on. It worked. The announcer moved on to listing the names of listeners across India who had requested her to play the next song. Arnav stretched his hand to shut it down so that he could return it to Krishna and end his torment, but his hand stilled. Through the open door of his room, he saw a flash of orange. His kabootri had just raced to her room.
When teenagers and young adults across the world had been falling in and out of love, Arnav Singh Raizada had been working and studying for more that 20 hours a day. The female gender had meant nothing to him, except for his Di and Nani. He had dealt mostly with men professionally, and even when women had entered his domain, his dealings with them had been in a brusque and direct manner. No subterfuge for him. No tact, no bending of facts, no emotional quagmires. He kept his life simple and complication-less.
That ASR would have fainted at the sight of Khushi's Arnavji standing up and pulling out the top button of his shirt.
Arnav shouted as though the house were on fire, "Khushi... Khushi..."
He slipped the next couple of buttons out of their holes to increase the effect of his bare chest on her.
She came running.
"Arnavji, Kya Hua? Aap Theek Ho?"
"Khushi, can you fix this button?" He held the innocent-looking, solitary, orphaned button between his fingers, and pointed to the empty slot on his shirt.
Khushi hesitated. She could still remember the effect the last button sewing session had left on her heart.
"I need to go to the office later..." He put on his best puppy face.
"Haan... I will...I will fix it..." She stammered, and went to get her box of threads of various colours and needles of various sizes.
The radio blared a series of advertisements for sanitary napkins and dish washing liquids.

She hooked the thread in the needle, getting it right the fifth time. Threading needles while suffering from tremors was a feat deserving a prize.
She took the button from his fingers, the tips of their fingers rubbing against each other. She swallowed.
She placed the button in its original position and, without looking at his face held temptingly close or at his bare chest, studiously concentrated on passing the needle through the button hole.
Tera ishq bada teekha
Mujhe teekha acha lage...
Her hands shook. She could feel his laser-sharp eyes on her face and neck.
Tere ishq mein dard bada
Mujhe dard acha lage...



A frown formed between her eyebrows with the effort to keep standing in the face of his  unrelenting gaze. Don't poke him with the needle. She chanted. Don't poke your finger with the needle.
She consoled herself. It is just a button.
She comforted herself. This too shall pass.
Tera ishq bada jootha
Mujhe jootha acha lage...
She parted her quivering lips to breathe better, to pant better.
Niss din mujhe bus ab teri
Yaad sataati hai...
Tanhaayi bhi raaton ko
Mujhe jagaati hai...
He ran a finger down her cheek, gently. Startled, she looked up at him, into his eyes that were aflame with passion and the need to claim her as his own. The finger paused in its slow journey at the side of her lips. She looked yearningly at his lips that had promised her many pleasures, but always left her wanting.




Tere inn labon pe
Mere hothon ka ab chumban hoga...
Anjaane khwaabon ka aaj milan hoga...
His finger faithfully traced the outline of her plump, juicy lips, his lips parting as though they were tasting her warmth and flavour. Her eyes closed in an agony of unfulfilled need. Her lips parted, her face lifted towards him, letting him do whatever he wanted with her, hoping he would lose his superhuman self-control and ravish her.

Tera ishq bada feekha
Mujhe feekha acha lage...
Haan tera ishq bada jootha
Mujhe jootha acha lage...
His finger slipped past her lips, into the warm cavern of her mouth. She hesitated for a moment. The pleasure was new, unknown, but the allure was too much to resist. She had to taste him. Her tongue touched his finger, and wrapped itself around the digit. He stilled, feeling a surge of violent desire capable of burying him under it.
He swallowed with difficulty, his breath coming fast in a rush. He slowly pulled his finger from her mouth, fighting against her attempts to retain her prize. She opened her eyes to look at him, innocently, wordlessly asking him why he had taken her toy away from her.
He cleared his throat, and said, "Button."



Teri iss ada pe
Teri iss hasi pe
Jaan fidaa meri...
Mil jaaye tu mujhko
Hai yeh duaa meri...
She brought her dazed eyes down to look at her fingers clutching a button and a needle. She slowly finished her job with shaking fingers. She leaned forward to cut the thread off with her teeth.




Tere saaye mein,
Tere pehloo mein,
Jannat hai meri...
He pulled her in to his arms, tight, her head buried in the crook of his neck.
Teri dilkash panahon mein
Raahat hai meri...
He could feel her short, sharp breaths against the already super-sensitive skin of his bare chest. The relief of having her close to him was tremendous. The needle dropped from her nerveless fingers to the ground.

Her hands roamed across his shoulders, his arms, his back, enjoying the freedom to wander where they willed.
Tera ishq bada khataa
Mujhe khataa acha lage...
He kissed her hair, running his hands all over her back, pressing her closer and closer to him, feeling her trembling legs rest against his weak ones.

Tera ishq bada jootha
Mujhe jootha acha lage...
Her puny arms tried to haul him closer still, wanting to enter his skin, wanting to be one with him, never wanting to part from him. She missed him so much when he wasn't near her...
Tera ishq bada teekha
Mujhe teekha acha lage...
She buried her lips against his neck, feeling the movement of his throat muscles as he swallowed hard. She licked the warm skin, tasting him, loving him, needing him more than her next breath.

Tere ishq mein dard bada
Mujhe dard acha lage...
 Her fingers clung to his back, her nails turning in to claws as they ran up and down the length of his back.
Tera ishq bada jootha
Mujhe jootha acha lage...
They stood there, locked in the embrace.

"Titliyaa...", Buaji called. "Mohanji has come to talk to you about the sweets for his grandson's birthday. Come down soon. This girl! Only Nandkisore knows what she gets up to at times!"



 Part 16


Khushi woke up from the delightful dream she had been lost in, and froze in Arnav's arms. The nails clinging to his back slowly, reluctantly eased. Her hands began to leave him, unconsciously rubbing his back to make up for any pain she may have inflicted in her agony of pleasure. Her arms slipped to his waist, and at last, her head moved away from his bare chest. He loosened his arms.
Her eyes were hidden from him, her head lowered as she took one step away from him.
He stepped forward.
She looked up.


He drew in a short, sharp breath. He was looking at a girl, his girl standing at the threshold to womanhood, his girl in thrall to his touch. A new world of physical pleasure had been made known to her, and she was too inexperienced to hide the wonder on her face. He gently cupped her blushing cheek with his right hand.
She looked at him. His floppy hair, his forehead with frown lines, his lean cheeks, his strong nose, his jutting chin, his...his lips...his tempting lips, his well-shaped, enticing neck...
His neck. Had she really kissed his neck? Licked him?
Her mouth went dry. She tried to swallow. Her throat felt like a desert that hadn't seen rain in years. She moved back, letting his hand fall off her face.
Had he really touched her lips with his fingers? She touched her lips in amazement. Put a finger in her mouth? And had she really...?
But she had to hate him.
Her face paled and a look of horror replaced the look of blushing bliss. She looked towards the door for escape.
"Khushi...?"
She sent him a shaky glance.
"Khushi, have you permitted any man to touch you like this?"
She looked at him as though he were crazy. "Of course not."
"Then why did you permit me, Khushi?"
She stood silent, lost for an answer, her eyes searching for a means of escape.
"Would you let someone's fiance or husband touch you like this, Khushi?"
"What is wrong with you? How many times should I tell you that I had nothing to do with Shyamji, that..."
"I am not talking about him. Listen carefully, Khushi. When you met me, Lavanya was said to be my girlfriend, wasn't she?"
"Haan. So?"
"She was staying with my family in my house when you came to teach her, wasn't she?"
"Haan. Haan."
"You knew that my family intended me to marry her, didn't you?"
"Ji."
"Then why did you let me touch you, almost kiss you on Diwali night, Khushi?"


(UltimateBarun, thank u!)

She stood pale, shocked, ashamed of herself...
Buaji climbed up the stairs, fed up of shouting for Khushi to come down, and came to Arnav and Khushi standing and staring at each other in his room. The tension in the room was palpable. She felt as though she were waiting for lightning to strike. She went down, happy. Arnav Babua and Sanka Devi were fighting. All was right between them.

A lone tear made its way slowly down her cheek.
Arnav strode to her and folded her in his arms, comforting her.
"Don't cry, Khushi. If letting me try to kiss you was a sin, then trying to kiss you was a sin too. I am equally guilty, Khushi."




A while later, he asked, "Did you ever think that you would fall in love with me or that I would marry you, Khushi?"
"No..."
"I too never thought or realised that I would fall in love with you... I never realised what was happening to me or us... And I am older than you, Khushi. I should have known what was happening. The responsibility was mine, Khushi, not yours."
"Do you know who understood that we loved each other first, Khushi?", he asked gently.
She shook her head to say no. Speech was beyond her.
"Lavanya..."
Her head jerked up.
"She realised, before you and I did, that we loved each other. Khushi, do you know why I refused to get engaged to Lavanya? Because I knew that I would never be able to marry her when my heart belonged to you, when only you mattered to me.
And, Khushi, no one knew better than you that I did not love Lavanya or that I did not want to get engaged to her. That I was happy when she left. Why did you interfere in the relationship between me and Lavanya, Khushi? Why did you argue, push, force, cry, nag me into bringing her back, Khushi?"
Khushi looked into her heart, and didn't like what she saw.
"You wanted me to have what you thought I wanted, didn't you, Khushi? What you thought would be good for me. Like taking a bitter pill to recover from a sickness, you thought that once I was married to Lavanya, I would like it enough to stay, that I would realise that my views on marriage were wrong, that i would reconcile with my fate... AND you wanted to be free of this uncomfortable, unwilling attraction for me, didn't you, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada?"
She stood silent, looking at him with vulnerable eyes.
Arnav said softly, "It has been one year and 3 months, Khushi. These feelings have gone nowhere. They have only grown stronger. They haven't vanished just because you pretended not to see them..."
He looked into her eyes, and asked, "Now what will you do, Khushi?"





 Part 17
(All pics credited to uploaders.)
She shook his hold off her, and ran out of the room as if all the mad dogs in Lucknow were after a bite of her. Buaji saw a flash of orange streak past the kitchen and run across the courtyard to the kitchen of the sweetshop.
"What was that, Jiji?", asked Garima.
"I think that was our Sanka Devi after an argument with our Bitwaa..", laughed Buaji, her body shaking in mirth.

Khushi locked herself in her kitchen, cooking up a storm. Madhu's sangeet and mehendi were to be held the next evening, and she had to deliver the sweets by morning. When Munna called her to have lunch, she asked him to bring her a plate of food as she was too busy to take time off work.
A while later, there was a knock on the door. She tiptoed to the door, scared. What if it was Arnavji? What if he had come to continue from where he had left off? What would she do?
"Who is it?", her voice quavered.
"It is me, Jiji. Your Munna with your lunch. Who else will it be?", he teased.
Relief warred with disappointment in Khushi's heart. She flung open the door. Munna carried her food inside, and turned to leave.
"Did he... did he... have his lunch?"
"Who, Krishna? Will Krishna miss his lunch?", Munna laughed.
The sound of Khushi's teeth grinding brought home to Munna the fact that she was not best pleased.
"Are you all right, Jiji? Do you have a toothache?", he asked, all solicitous.
"What can be wrong with me? Did he... I mean, Arnavji have his lunch?"
"You mean, Jiju? No, he didn't."
"Why not?", she asked, the words running in to each other.
"He left an hour ago."
"Left? Where? For the office?"
"No, not to the office. When I saw him walking to the door, he had a big bag with him."
Khushi did not see or hear Munna leave. Her sightless eyes stared at the open door. There was a booming sound in her ears that prevented her from hearing anything except the beat of her heart. He had left her.

Khushi ran to the kitchen.
"Amma, Buaji, where is Arnavji?"
"He left...", sighed Buaji. "How can such a busy man stay here day & night for ever?"
"It was such fun when he was here, wasn't it, Jiji? When he is with us, we forget that he is a big businessman. But he has his own life. How can we keep him here all the time?",  asked Amma.
"The house already seems empty without him, doesn't it, Garima?"

She left the pair lamenting over Arnavji's absence. He had left her. He had grown tired of convincing her that he loved her. He too, like her parents, had gone.
She did not shut or lock the kitchen door. The man whom she had wanted to keep out was no longer trying to get in.
Her hands automatically made laddoos, jalebis, halwa... Her mind stayed firmly with the man who had abandoned her to a lonely life without a thought for her feelings. She did not notice Amma bringing her tea or Krishna calling her for dinner. Finally, Buaji had to come and use sheer animal force to oust her from her seat.

Khushi sat at the dining table, playing with her food. She suddenly got up with a murmured excuse and left the room. She could call him. Maybe he had gone to Delhi. Maybe he had a meeting in another town. Maybe he would be back soon...



She tried his number repeatedly, but... After the twentieth time, she left him a message.
"Arnavji, are you alright? I... Buaji was asking after you. She...she is very worried about you because you didn't call. Amma was wondering if you had taken your food and your medicines..."
There was a pause.
"If you find the time, please call...them."


 (Thanx, Shruti_P)

Arnav smiled at the number of missed calls and the message, and closing his eyes, leaned back against his car seat. He had informed Babuji, Amma, & Buaji about his schedule for the day before leaving with a heavy bag of files. He had let them know that he was going to be away for the entire day and half the night. They had just smiled at him, asking him to make sure that he ate on time and travelled safely. He had even taken the precaution of borrowing the extra key to the front door so that he could get in to the house in the early hours of the morning without disturbing the family and the entire neighbourhood.

It was 12 at night. Khushi sat in her room, on her bed. It was very cold. Bitter wind blew aside the curtains of her room and lashed at her. She remained motionless, sitting still, defeated, lost...

bairi koyaliya haay kuk sunaaye, raam
mujh birhan ka jiyaara jalaaye...
raha na jaaye, raam, haay raam...
yaad piya ki aaye..., haaye raam,
yaad piya ki aaye...

She had tried so hard to shore up her defences against him. She had kept him out of her sight. She had verbally chanted and memorised the long list of his iniquities till she could recite them in her sleep. She had even written them down in case the allure of his eyes made her forget them. Each time he had approached her, she had tried to avoid him. She had even tried to distance herself from her Jiji and his family that she had once considered hers. Jiji... Maybe he was in Delhi... Jiji would know. She rang up Payal, woke her up from deep slumber, and asked her about Arnavji.
"Arnavji? Why are you asking about him? He is in Lucknow, isn't he?", asked poor Payal.
"Haaan...He was. He left. I thought he might have travelled to Delhi.", whispered Khushi.

She knew what he was. All his good and bad points, almost instinctively. His anger. His love for his family. His autocratic way of functioning. His kindness. His arrogance and ego. His ability to carry mountains for those he loved. His stupid live-in. The way in which he silently bore pain to keep the minds of his loved ones at rest.
In fact, it was almost funny. She could appreciate and understand the condition he had found himself in after seeing her on the terrace in Shyamji's arms. She, the victim, could understand & sympathise with the perpetrator. She was no longer angry with him for the forced marriage thing or the hatred he had shown her. But the live-in. That was too much for her to swallow. A man who could trick her in to something so against her beliefs... How could she trust him? Wouldn't he manipulate her similarly when he wanted something from her next time?
She wasn't stupid. She knew how weak she was to his brand of charm. That was why she had tried so hard to keep him away. Slow tears fell, wetting her pillow. She wanted to see him. Now...

baali umariya suni re sajariya...
jauban beeton jaaye..., raam, haaye raam...
yaad piya ki aaye, yaad piya ki aaye...

yeh dukh saha na jaaye..., raam, haay raam...
At two in the morning, Arnav made his way noiselessly through the courtyard and in to the house. It was very cold and early in the day. Khushi must be asleep, he knew. But he wanted to see her. Now... A day without seeing her, and he was parched for the sight of her sweet face. He dumped his bag in his room and entered hers.
"Khushi...?", he murmured, his husky voice making an endearment of her name.
She jumped up from bed, unable to believe that he was standing at the door to her room, looking in. Maybe it was a trick of the dim night lamp. She ran to switch on the bright light. He was still standing at the door. As she watched, he entered the room, closed the door, and smiled at her.



He pointed to the white shirt on her pillow she had been crying in to for the past couple of hours, and said sweetly, "So you found my white shirt!"



Part 18:

"Khushi...?", he murmured, his husky voice making an endearment of her name.
She jumped up from bed, unable to believe that he was standing at the door to her room, looking in. Maybe it was a trick of the dim night lamp. She ran to switch on the bright light. He was still standing at the door. As she watched, he entered the room, closed the door, and smiled at her.



He pointed to the white shirt on her pillow she had been crying in to for the past couple of hours, and said sweetly, "So you found my white shirt!"
Khushi stood staring at him for one moment, and then ran to him. She caught hold of his shoulders and shook him.
"Where were you? Do you know how upset I was?"
He smiled.
"Why are you standing silent and smiling at me? Where were you? Why couldn't you pick up your phone?"
He smiled some more.
She shook him some more.
"What do you think of yourself? Who are you to walk in and out of my life without warning? Do you know how upset I was?" Tears leaked out of her sore eyes.
"Why, Khushi? Why were you so upset?", he asked gently.
Khushi looked at him, knowing the answer but unable to say it.
"Shall I say it for you?"
Khushi tried to withdraw her hands from his shoulders, but his hands held hers captive.
"Khushi, do you remember drinking bhang on Holi?"
"Ye...es..s..."
"Do you remember the question you asked me then?"
"Question? I asked you a question?"
"Yes. You were desperate for an answer. Can you remember the question, Khushi?", he whispered.
"N...no...", she stammered.
"You asked me why your heart beat increases when I come close to you."
She looked at him, stunned beyond words.
"You said that you had tried to understand it, but had failed. That you had tried to forget it, but had failed."
He stood waiting for her response. Finally, unable to douse the embers of hope in her heart, she asked faintly, "And did you give me a reply?"
Arnav smiled.
"Yes, I did. Would you like to know what I said?"
"Ye..ee..s..ss..."
"Sure?"
"Ha...an..."


(Thanx -Sunshine-)

He slowly moved her hand towards his chest, and held it over his heart.
"I said that when I come close to you, my heart too starts beating fast.", he said softly, looking in to her eyes.
Dhak Dhak, his heart beat in tandem with hers, picking up its pace.
"Our heart beats become one...", said his husky voice.
She looked at her hand on his chest, held there by his fingers.
"What you feel and what I feel are the same because ours hearts have become one...", he whispered in the still silence.



"Aap... Hum..."
"There is no you and me, Khushi, there is only us."




Part 19

Khushi stood looking at him, realising that running away from him was never going to work. The problems between them had to be dealt with. They were in too deep for quibbling.
She tugged at her hand. He let her go reluctantly.
"What do you think of me?", she asked.
Relief eased through his veins like a pain killer. She was willing to ask and to listen.
"The most beautiful girl on earth...made for me..."
 He lifted his hand towards her face, but she leaned back. His arm dropped. Her head was spinning as it was. The last thing she needed was his touch to confuse her further.
"And?"
"You have immense courage. Only you are brave enough to play with the lion, put her head in to his mouth..."
"And?"
"Thodi Pagal, Bahut Nadaan...", his voice sounded like honey.
"And?"
"Made for me, only me..." His possessive eyes ran all over her.
She gulped. "And?"
"Your commitment to your family is absolute."
"And?"
"You love my family."
"And?"
"You love me. With every fiber of your being."


She looked at him. A while later, she asked, "And?"
"You have  a fine sense of what is right and wrong. You deviate from the straight and narrow path only out of love for your loved ones."
"If I am such a principled person, why did you trick me in to a live-in? Didn't you know what it would do to my life, my reputation, my family? How could you play with my life and future to satisfy your ego?", she asked to know, not to vent.
Arnav caught hold of her arm and led her to the bed. He sat down beside her.
"On Payal and Akash's wedding day, I left you and went down to meet Nani. It was then that I found out that Di had gone to the temple a couple of hours ago and hadn't returned. I got a phone call from the police that she had been involved in an accident and the car was in a bad shape."
She drew in a sharp breath, and he paused.
"I ran out of the house to get to her, and found her standing outside the door, her arm bandaged, her body bruised, her sari torn in places. She was distraught..." He shook his head as though to get rid of the pictures from his mind. She touched his arm. He quickly caught hold of her fingers in his.
"I took her to her room. We cried and talked for a while. She knew how much I loved you, and didn't want me to waste time dithering. So she asked me to enjoy every moment of my life as though it were my last, to ask for what I wanted before it got too late. I left her, determined to get you alone. I wanted to propose to you..."
Tears fell down her cheeks. Her eyes closed in anguish.
"I saw you go up to the terrace. I followed you, but was stopped a couple of times by the guests. When I got to the terrace, I saw you in the arms of Shyam. I heard him declare that my sister meant nothing to him and that he loved you. Before I could digest that, I heard you ask him why he didn't leave my sister." He sighed. She held his hand tighter still.


(Thanx Aquiline)

"I was devastated. For myself and my sister. Everything that I had believed came down crashing around my ears that moment. My Jiju for whom I had the utmost respect was nothing more than a sleazebag. My sister who worshiped her husband was going to have her life turned upside down. The girl I loved had been pretending to care for me while she had been having an affair with my Jijaji under my nose. My whole life, my family, my heart... Khushi, I lost everything I had in one moment... Just one moment...
I had no time to take it in, Khushi. I had no time to think, no time to even wonder which wound hurt me more, your betrayal of me or Jijaji's betrayal of my sister. I had time only to react. And action had to be taken fast. There was no time to be wasted.
I confronted that rat who told me that you loved him and that he was going to leave Di for you. I had no time to verify the facts, Khushi. I needed to warn Di. And when I went to her, as I was about to tell her the truth, she fainted. She was pregnant. It was the last blow, Khushi... My hands were tied. I couldn't kick him out, atleast till the baby was born. I had to keep him at home and away from you.



I came down, and saw you standing with NK and Akash. You smiled at me. The pain of losing you, knowing that you loved someone else and not me, the knowledge that I had to keep you away from that scoundrel for 6 months, atleast till Di gave birth, the realisation that all your smiles had been false...
I went crazy, Khushi. I wanted you... With me... A part of me. I was not willing to even think of you going away from me."
He looked at Khushi, with pleading eyes. "I had never fallen in love before, Khushi. I didn't even know that this feeling existed. And when it hit me, it hit with such a force that I couldn't control it. It was bigger than me. All I knew was that you were leaving me, and I couldn't bear that. I just knew that you were mine, as much as I was yours. I felt I would die, I wouldn't be able to breathe...
You smiled at me, Khushi, and I knew that I couldn't lose you. I rang up the priest at the temple and asked him to leave me a mangalsutra at the feet of your Devi Maiyya. I intended to marry you, Khushi. But at the last minute, I realised that I would be doing you too much damage, tying you down in a relationship you didn't want. You deserved to be free, to be happy...That is why I specified 6 months, and ensured that the priest wasn't there and that we didn't have any witnesses. I knew in my heart that the mangalsutra and sindoor would stop you from accepting Shyam as a lover atleast when you thought yourself married to me."
He smiled at Khushi in a wry manner.
"I was confused. I wanted to keep you with me. I also wanted to free you to seek your happiness... I was crazy, Khushi... It was never your fault. It was always mine. My pathetic life, my bad judgement, my family and its problems, my anger, my prejudiced world view... But I never intended to harm you, Khushi. I never thought of it as a live-in..."
They sat silent in the cold, huddled against each other on the bed. Finally, Arnav said, "I hurt you, Khushi. I harmed your family's reputation. I destroyed your life. Not intentionally, but I did it."
He cupped her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes.
"But Khushi, had I told you that I was in trouble and that the only way out was you entering in a live-in with me, do you know what you would have done? You would have agreed to it without sparing a thought for your family, reputation, or life. You would have given up everything you held dear, just for me. That's how much you love me, Khushi..."

He kissed her on her forehead.




Part 20


She stood silent, looking at him.
He was not boasting. He was just stating a fact in his usual manner.
He added, "Khushi, had you told me that you were in trouble and that the only way out was me marrying you, do you know what I would have done? I, who had no belief in marriage, would have agreed to marry you without any thought to my beliefs,  family, or reputation. I would have given up everything I held dear, even my life, just for you. That's how much I love you, Khushi."
She looked away from him, and then turned to return to bed.
"Khushi?" The cry spoke of need.
She halted, and turned around.
"Khushi, you love me..."


(Thanx, Peepli)

It was no use denying it. She hesitated for a moment, and then asked him, looking straight in to his eyes, "To?"
He stared at her.
"It is my problem, not yours."
"Khushi, Khushi, it is not a problem.", he sighed.
"It is. It is a problem. And it is my problem."
"And is there a solution to this problem, Khushi?", he asked, a sad smile on his face.
She had no answer.
"You can't hide your love for me, just as I can't hide my love for you. You can't will it away, just as I can't. We are both powerless against this, Khushi."
He placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Don't touch me." Her eyes begged him.
"Then you touch me. Because I am yours. Your husband, your boy friend, your friend, the man who will be your lover, your only lover... Khushi...", he comforted her, "This is happening to both of us, not just to you. Remember what I said. Our hearts are one."
He took her hand in his, and pressed her palm to his heart.
"This belongs to you, Khushi. It beats only for you."
He lifted her hand and made her touch him, starting with the top of his head. He pushed her fingers into his hair.
"This is yours. Only yours..."
 Her fingers clenched, catching tufts of his hair between them. He made her touch his forehead, his ears. Soon he let go of her hand as she was touching him on her own.


(Thanx, Shruti_P)

Her fingers traced the frown lines on his forehead, his eyebrows, his shut eyes, playing with his long lashes, the slash of his nose, the stubble on his cheeks, his jutting chin, his neck with its prominent Adam's apple... She reached down, her fingers touching the upper part of his chest exposed by the two buttons that hadn't been fastened. They stopped exploring at the valley of the V thus formed.
Arnav held his breath. The fingers slowly climbed up, caressing his neck, his chin, and paused near his lips. He swallowed, his eyes still shut tight, scared to make any movement that might jolt her out of this spell.
Her innocent fingers continued exploring. They traced the seam of his lips, the outer curves of the stern top one and the sensual, fuller lower one. A finger lingered on his lower, full lip. He parted his lips, and captured her finger tip to suck it.






Part 21



Her innocent fingers went exploring. They traced the seam of his lips, the outer curves of the stern top one and the sensual, fuller lower one. A finger lingered on his lower, full lip. He parted his lips, and captured her finger tip to suck it.


(Thanx, Shruti_P)

He heard her breath catch in her throat. With eyes still closed, he caught her hand in his, in a loose grip. She could pull away if she wished to, but he prayed she wouldn't. He licked, laved, and sucked his way down the finger, kissing it as often as possible. He generously gave his attention to the other fingers of that hand and her palm too, lest they be jealous of that special finger.
He could feel her tremble. He opened his eyes to see her lost in the sensual web that he had created, her eyes glazed with new desire, her body languid and melting.
She was so responsive, so sensitive to even the slightest touch of his body. Her rapid breathing, her fluttering eyelids, her quivering limbs, her trembling lips... She made him feel like the only man on earth.
They stood staring at each other, lost in the world of pleasure that they had just shared. The light of the dawn seeped in through the windows, and enclosed them in a  golden glow. He still had her hand in his. He heard movement in the courtyard, in the kitchen. The boys must be up. Amma and Buaji must be awake. With great difficulty, he came out of the haze and curled his palm around her chubby, warm cheek.
"Khushi?" Love flowed through his voice.
"Ji?", she whispered.
"Will you come out with me tomorrow evening?"
"Ji?"
Go out with him? He had never taken her anywhere in the 6 months of their marriage. All the drives they had taken together had been out of necessity.
"I will take Amma, Babuji, and Buaji's permission."
She stood silent.
"I will ask the permission of Munna, Krishna, Madhu's mother, and all the chachas, chachis, nanas, naanis etc in the neighbourhood if needed...", he teased.
She smiled.
"I will come with you. But..."
"But?"
"Will you stop the car on the way and ask me to get out?"
He swallowed. He cradled her right cheek in his palm. "Never, Khushi. Never again. From now on, we are going all the way together."

Arnav went down for breakfast, and was welcomed by the family as though he had been away for a week. He tried to return the key to the courtyard that he had borrowed. Amma, Buaji, and Babuji refused to accept it.
"Keep it with you, Nandkisore."
"Haan, Bitwaa. You can come and go as you please."
"Babua, today is Madhu's sangeet and mehendi. Will you be able to get here in the evening?"
"Buaji, I will reach here only by seven. I have a meeting beginning at 5.30. It won't end before 6.45."
"That is alright, Bitwaa. We will wait for you. We will go together after you come."
"No, Amma, Buaji. You go to Madhu's house. I will come there directly."
"Are you sure?", they asked, worried that he may not be able to locate them in the crowd. "There will be lots of guests there, Bitwaa..."
"I will call you if I can't find you."


After days, no months, Khushi finally felt that life was worth living. She knew in her heart that  it had all to do with the conversation that she and Arnavji had shared in her bedroom that morning, but she was too stubborn to admit it aloud. She had suffered too much in the last two and a half months to lay down her arms meekly. She wanted to wait and watch.
She dressed for Madhu's sangeet with special care. She had applied the mehendi earlier in the day and had spent a good part of the day looking on while her boys worked. Her hands had been useless. And each time she had tried to do some task with her henna-stained hands, the boys had hooted with laughter. But it was all worth it. The mehendi made her arms, palms, and fingers look beautiful. She admired them. Would Arnavji think that her arms looked beautiful?


She dressed in a pink lehenga with a small, tiny choli, and a skirt with lots of intricate bead & glass work. Her arms were adorned with pink & gold glass bangles. She debated over  leaving her hair unbound or plaited. Arnavji liked it unbound. So she brushed it till it shone, and left it free to dance in the breeze. She placed a maangtikka with white and pink stones in her maang and paused. She missed wearing sindoor. Her lips drooped, but she firmed them with determination. Crying over the past had never done anyone any good. Her parents weren't going to return. Nor was the sindoor going to appear in her maang by magic. She lifted a heavy necklace. Her neck had been bare since August 14^th when she had removed her mangalsutra in Arnavji's car and returned it to him. She looked at the necklace. Those without mangalsutra had to make do with such fancy jewellery. She sighed, and then quickly put it on before she changed her mind.
The aunties and Madhu's relations who had come from various parts of the country were determined to enjoy the sangeet. The ladies began the programme with folk songs and dances. Khushi, Munna, and Krishna cheered as Amma and Buaji danced and sang of lovelorn girls and ardent swains, joined by Vimala Chachi and Nandini Mausi. Soon the younger crowd took over. Chammak Challo Cheil Chabeli, Chokra Jawan Re, and Challa Walla were played loudly, blasting the ears of the elders. The children danced and sang along, cooling themselves with tall glasses of sherbet and stuffing themselves with Khushi's sweets.
Arnav came in to Madhu's house which was overrun with people. Lots of chatter, music, dance, laughter, lights... He looked around for a glimpse of Khushi. He walked in to the big hall and saw many ladies of all ages dancing to the beats of Munni Badnaam Hui, Darling Tere Liye. And right in the middle of the crowd was his angel. The pink lehenga shimmered as she turned and twisted to the music, her maangtikka fell away from her maang, the stones of her necklace glimmered, her chudi danced along her arms made astonishingly beautiful with mehendi. Her bindi twinkled to match her eyes, her lips smiled. His lips smiled to keep hers company. He looked at her maang. His smile faded. It looked bare without his sindoor. And her neck. Nothing suited her more than his mangalsutra.
She looked up and saw him. Arnavji was looking at her. The music faded. The noise vanished. The crowd ceased to exist. She took one step after the other, moving slowly but steadily towards him, her eyes on his, her heart in her eyes. He could not take in the vision of beauty standing before him. The elaborately worked pink skirt, the miniscule blouse, the curve of her waist. He drew in a much needed breath.
Someone called, "Khushi?"
She turned around, presenting him with a view of her back. The perfect figure, the fullness of her hips, her slender arms, the long, silky hair... A gust of wind blew her hair away from her back. His heart stopped beating in shock and male appreciation. Saying that the blouse had a low back would be an exaggeration as the blouse did not have much cloth at the back as far as his eyes could see. There was just some flower holding the thin edges together. His fingers itched to get to that flower. He had always loved gardening.





Part 22


She turned around, presenting him with a view of her back. The perfect figure, the fullness of her hips, her slender arms, the long, silky hair. A gust of wind blew her hair away from her back. His heart stopped beating in shock and male appreciation. Saying that the blouse had a low back would be an exaggeration as the blouse did not have much cloth at the back as far as his eyes could see. There was just some flower holding the thin edges together. His fingers itched to get to that flower. He had always loved gardening.



"Are you alright?", Khushi asked. Arnavji looked pale. His fists were clenched. Maybe he was sick or tired.
"I am OK. Aren't you dancing?", he asked in his low, husky voice, his mind still bent on picking that one golden flower.
"No. I am tired...", she said like a little child, just missing out on rubbing her eyes with her hands.
Arnav smiled tenderly."Come home with me.", he invited.
She nodded.

He located Buaji, Amma, & Babuji, and informed them that he was taking Khushi home as she was tired.
"How can she not be tired? She works from dawn to dusk, Nandkisore!"
"Shall we leave too?"
"Haan, Babua. We will come too."
"No, Buaji, Amma. Enjoy the function. I will see to it that Khushi sleeps."
"Haan, Bitwaa. Please take her home. Don't let her sit down to make more sweets."
Arnav smiled, and left Madhu's house with Khushi.

 It was late evening, almost fully dark. Streetlights and the lights in Madhu's house and yard fought a losing battle against the encroaching night. Arnav, knowing that Khushi was prone to accidents, made her walk well away from the road, walking between her and any unsuspecting vehicle using the road. They walked side by side silently, their arms swinging gently. He stepped closer to her, and his hand touched hers in passing. She looked at his face. His profile gave her no clue to his state of mind. As they swung their arms, his hand touched hers again. And again. They enjoyed the silent touch in the dark.

Unfortunately, Madhu lived quite close to Gomti Sadan. They reached home too soon. Arnav took out his key and opened the lock. They entered the courtyard.

"Khushi, I have never been to the terrace of this house.", he said.
She looked at him, astonished. "Would you like to...?", she asked hesitantly.
"Yes. Now." He gave her no chance to back off.

She led the way to the terrace, past their rooms, and up the stairs. Following her, Arnav enjoyed the view. She opened the door to the terrace. It was dark and windy. Music from Madhu's house could be heard faintly. Arnav looked around. There weren't any houses or buildings of this height around Gomti Sadan. The darkness too helped to conceal their presence.

"You can see the whole of Lucknow from here in the daytime...", she boasted.
But Arnav did not want to see the whole of Lucknow. All that he wanted to see was standing right in front of him.
"Will you dance with me, Khushi?"
"Uuhh?"
"I know you are tired. Don't worry. I will do all the work...", he whispered, his allure increased a hundredfold by the darkness.


(Shruti_P, u rock, baby!)

He caught hold of her arms and positioned them, her left on his shoulder and her right in his. His right hand conquered the bare curve of her waist. The warm skin quivered at the touch of his possessive palm. They swayed to the music in the dark, each of them learning the other through their senses of touch and smell. His right hand moved up her back, sliding beneath her hair, touching the sole golden flower guarding her modesty. His fingers played with it, gently pulling and releasing it, twisting it. Khushi shuddered, moving closer and closer to the warmth of his familiar and beloved body. Soon she was in his arms, held tight, close to him.


(Thanx, Shruti_P)

They stood locked together, at peace, only stars witnessing their closeness. Heaven on earth. At that moment, Arnav understood the meaning of this usage.

A while later, he led her down the stairs to her room. She was drooping with tiredness. He sat on her bed, waiting while she changed in to her night clothes in the bathroom. She crawled in to her bed, and stretched out with a sigh of pleasure. He covered her with her blanket, sat by her, and held her hand as she slept in peace.






Part 23



Buaji and Amma looked at the sleeping man guarding Khushi. He was sitting in a very uncomfortable position, his hand in hers. Buaji put her arm around Arnav's shoulder and called his name. He woke up.
"She is asleep, Babua. And it is very late..."
"Haan, Damaadji. You will hurt your back if you sit like this all night. And you have to go to work tomorrow...", Amma worried.
Arnav smiled at the two ladies, and went to bed. They checked his room to see if he had water in his jug, and after ensuring that his neck did not hurt, they bid him goodnight.

He came down to breakfast to find Khushi cooking, Munna and Krishna chatting with Babuji, and Amma and Buaji setting the table. Khushi served him. He tried to catch her eyes, but she looked away, shy, the memory of his fingers playing with the golden flower painting a permanent blush on her face. In the laughter and noise, he tried to touch her hand, but she pulled hers away before he could so much as touch her finger.
He decided to work from home that day. The sweetshop was filled with customers. Talking to Khushi there was an impossibility. So he decided to bide his time and get to work. As he sat with his laptop in his armchair surrounded by the flowering plants that she had got him, Amma & Buaji came up to him.
"Bitwaa, this is for you." They gave him a package.
He opened it to find a maroon sweater.
"It is very cold here, Babua. So we made it for you. We took one of your T-shirts to get your measurements, but..."
He donned the sweater. It was a perfect fit.
"Oh, Bitwaa looks so good, Jiji...", said Amma smiling, walking around Arnav, smoothing the sweater over his shoulders.
"Haan, the size is perfect and the colour suits him, Nandkisore...", said Buaji, pinching his chin.
"Thank you, Buaji, Amma...", he said, swallowing hard. He couldn't remember the last time someone had knitted him a sweater. Maybe because no one had.
They kissed his forehead, and delighted to know that he would be home for lunch, promised him soup and his favourite dishes, and went down to the kitchen to plan the menu.

After a sumptuous lunch, the boys and Khushi went back to the sweetshop. Mohanji's grandson's birthday party was to be held that evening.



Khushi and the boys made mountains of jalebis, gallons of kheer, tins of gulab jamun, and packets full of sohan halwa & kaju katli.



The sweets had to be ready and packed when the elderly man came at 5 in the evening to collect them.




They worked steadily till 5, chatting and cracking jokes to take their minds off the heat and the toil.

Meanwhile, Arnav asked Babuji, Buaji, and Amma permission to take Khushi out that evening.
Babuji smiled, and waved his hand to signify his assent. Buaji said, "Haan, haan, Nandkisore. Let her show you around Lucknow. Otherwise, you may get lost, Babua."
"But don't have dinner out, Bitwaa...", Amma chimed in. "We will wait for you."
"And don't let that Sanka Devi eat your head.", Buaji warned him
Arnav smiled.

Arnav and Khushi set out at 5.30, after Mohanji had checked and taken his delivery. Khushi  looked like a princess. She was wearing a green anarkali with full sleeves and low neck.



Her neck without the mangalsutra. It always ate into him. He sighed. He settled her in her seat, and after she had fixed the seat belt, drove towards a shop selling sarees and kurtas. Khushi looked at him, wondering what exactly they were doing there.
"Khushi, will you help me select sarees for Amma and Buaji?"
"Haan...", she said shakily, her mind still on the flower. "But why? I mean, Diwali is still three weeks away."
"With you, Khushi, every day is Diwali for me."
Her eyes widened. Maybe she had misheard him. She stared at him as though she had never seen him before. They stood near the door of the shop, looking at each other, Arnav trying to convince her of his serious and honest intentions and Khushi conveying her reservations. Someone opened the door of the shop to leave, and Khushi and Arnav came back to their senses. He guided her into the shop.
She selected sarees for Buaji and Amma, but Arnavji was no where to be seen. He had wandered off some time back, telling her that he had some thing to do. She looked around anxiously. Where was Arnavji? She was about to go in search of him when she felt his hand on her shoulder.
"I am here."
She turned to look at him, feeling herself burn seeing the banked fire in his eyes. He placed his left arm around her shoulder, and stood close to her. Her right shoulder was pressed to his heart.
"I need to take kurtas for Babuji, Munna, and Krishna. Will you help me?"
"J..ji..ii..."
They came out of the shop a few hours later, laden with bags. They drove silently home.
Dinner was, as usual, a jolly affair. After the meal, Arnav went to his car, got the bags, and gave Amma and Buaji their sarees and Babuji his kurta pyjama. Even before opening the covers, their eyes filled with tears.
Buaji looked at the gift he had placed in her hands. "You didn't have to, Arnav Babua. You have such a kind heart...", Buaji said through her tears.
"Haan, Bitwa. You thought of us. That is the greatest gift...", added Amma.
Babuji pressed Arnav's hand with his.
How could Arnav tell them that his paltry gift was exactly that, paltry in the face of their love and care for him?

Arnav handed over their clothes to Munna and Krishna, telling them that their Jiji had selected the kurtas. They hugged him in gratitude.

Arnav took out the packet that he had hidden in his car, and walked to Khushi's room. She was changing her clothes in her washroom. He lay down on her bed, his hands crossed under his head, the packet on his chest. She came out dressed in a green night suit, and got into bed to jump up with a loud squawk.
"Aap? Yahan? What are you doing here?"
He held out the packet to her.
"What is it?", she asked, suspicious of his intentions.
"Open it and find out."





She unwrapped it to find a blue-green sari. She slowly shook out the folds and spread it over her lap, legs, and arms, her eyes firmly lowered.
He waited for her to comment on the gift. But she remained silent.
"Khushi...?" Maybe she didn't like it. It was just that, the moment he had laid eyes on the sari, he had known that it was hers.
She remained still and silent, looking at the sari covering her body.
"Khushi, did you like it?"
"Ha...an...", she said softly.
"Khushi, look at me...", he said urgently.
She remained deaf to his demand.
Arnav moved close to her, and placed his head on her lap, lying on the sari to look up at her face and eyes. She looked in to his eyes, shocked at his sudden move, the weight of his head on her lap feeling too good for her to bear. He saw the glint of tears in her eyes.
"Khushi? What's wrong?"
"Nothing..."She shook her head. "It is just that...just that... my Amma and Babuji... used to buy me frocks in this colour... because they knew that it is my f..favourite colour. I used to say that it... it was like the s..sky meeting the ocean..."
She remained silent for a time, thinking about her parents. Tears rolled down her alabaster cheeks, and dripped on to his cheek and neck. He remained silent, unmoving, with closed eyes, remembering happy times with his mother before his family and his peace had been destroyed, a golden time when he had a childhood to call his own...
Soon, her arms crept around him, caressing his chest, holding him close to her, almost absently searching for & finding comfort in his proximity, seeking and giving solace. They stayed in her room on her bed for a long time. Finally he got up, reluctant to leave the haven of her arms. But it was late, and she had to start work early. Her arms automatically tried to keep him close, hanging on to his shirt for dear life, till she realised exactly what she was doing. She forced her fingers to let go of him.
It was time. He held her cheek in his hand, and said, "Khushi, wear this sari tomorrow evening and come out with me, please. We need to talk. It is urgent."
Big, beautiful eyes looked at him, wondering what he wanted to talk about.
He kissed her cheek, rubbed his nose against hers, and left the room.






Part 24
(All pics credited to uploaders!)

He was distracted throughout breakfast. Amma had to ask him three times if he would have another poori before he heard her. Khushi looked at him, worried. He hadn't gone for his usual jog either. Maybe he was preoccupied with work. But...he looked almost grim. Amma and Buaji looked at each other, wondering if they had done something wrong, if he was unhappy here, if he was missing his real family...
She followed him to his car.
"Arnavji...", she called out.
He halted near the car.
"Are you alright?", she asked, concerned about him.
He looked at her, his face expressionless.
"I mean, you look odd, ajeeb... Is Di alright? Did something bad happen in Delhi? Are you unhappy here?", she asked in a rush.
He looked at her anxious face and swallowed, turning his head away.
"I will be back around 6pm. Let's leave around 6.30.", he said softly.
She nodded, wishing he would tell her the cause of his unhappiness.
He touched her cheek with one gentle finger before leaving. He watched her standing rooted to the spot as he drove away.


She looked at him, driving through the narrow roads of her city to some destination unknown. She wanted to ask him where they were going, but his forbidding mien discouraged her.
She hadn't known how to dress. Were they going to meet his business acquaintances? Was he taking her to his office? Or was it some social function? She had finally dressed simply, wearing the saree that he had given her paired with an old blouse of hers in a golden colour. She had left her hair untied. Her neck was bare, her ears had their usual jhumkas, her arms were adorned with blue-green bangles. She had always known that he was a reserved man who normally spoke little, but had never known that he could be so stubbornly dumb!
The car came to a stop. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed the way he had taken. She looked out through the closed window. Her heart stopped. They were parked in front of Sheesh Mahal.




"This is where it all began, Khushi. We need to start from here...whatever the outcome... There is no escape..."
He came around the vehicle and opened her door. She remained seated and looked at him. He seemed to be under a great deal of strain. His face looked pale, his eyes tortured. She frowned. What was happening here?
She looked at the hand that he had extended to help her alight from the car. She put her hand in his. His fingers enclosed hers.
They walked together towards the open door of the palatial building. The security guards saluted them. He nodded, tense. His fingers tightened around hers.
There was something wrong. She knew it. She didn't know what it was. The why and the how and the when were all mysteries to her. But she knew in her bones that something was seriously wrong here. She tightened her grip on his hand, not because she was afraid, but because he needed her support.



He led her through lavishly decorated hallways and up flights of stairs, his eyes not seeing the people around him. She had known that it was a hotel and that he owned it, but it looked so much like an old Lucknow haveli that... The stained glass, the antique furniture, the spacious rooms, the courtyard, the elaborate woodwork... This house deserved to have lots of children running up and down its corridors, women chatting as they cooked or made batches of pickles, chillies drying in the sun, music and dance, wind wafting the smell of delicious cooking, the tinkling of glass and gold bangles and payal as women went about their daily chores...




He led her into a room and closed the door behind them. It was not a room. It was a suite. She was in a living room which opened to a bedroom with a bathroom. She looked around curiously. This didn't look like a hotel room. It looked like a room in a home, a big home but still a home.
He tugged gently at her hand, and led her to a royal-looking chair. He sat her down. He pulled a chair close to her, and sat facing her.

"Khushi, this is Sheesh Mahal. The place where we met for the first time. It is a hotel now. I own it."
She nodded.
He paused.
"This used to be my home. Mine and Di's."
She looked at him, astonished.
"I was born in these rooms. They...they were my mother's quarters."
She looked around the room. Other than her photo during the barsi and her bangles he had given her during their sham marriage, she knew little about his mother. She had known that he had his roots in Lucknow, but she hadn't thought about it much.
"My mother's and father's families belong to Lucknow. This was my father's house. We lived here... Mama, Papa, Di, I, and my father's brother. Nani, Mamaji, Mami, & Akash lived in their house."
She nodded.
"My childhood..." He swallowed. "I had no friends, just Di. I was naughty and did get in to trouble at home, but for the most part, I was alone... My temper... Even the servants were scared of my temper. Because... because I had inherited it from my father. Shouting, throwing things, wanting everything on his terms, living as he pleased without caring how it affected Mama..."
He shook his head as if to clear it.
"He had lots of friends. He, my uncle, and their friends would go away for days... for hunting... for parties..."
He looked at her and whispered. "You once said that my character was dheela. I wonder what you would have said about him..."
He looked down at his clasped hands.
"Wine... women... mujra...drinking... throwing away money like water... Worse was the shouting and the fights at home... He..he found fault with Mama for everything. She was strong-willed, like Nani. And ...and she l..loved him. She would fight back, try to make him understand that his friends were using him... that he was being a fool... that he was destroying their marriage... that he was killing his family... But...but he was determined to go to hell in his own way. And he did. It is just that ...he took all of us along with him. All of us..."
He paused and drew in a long breath to control his tears.
"Di's wedding was fixed. Oh, not that scoundrel, Shyam. It was another spineless wonder... The wedding was at night. In the evening, Di was ready. The ladies were dancing. The house was lit from top to bottom. Music, laughter, her friends teasing her... She had made me wear a kurta. I came down wearing it to show her that I had obeyed her... She looked so beautiful... so beautiful, Khushi. I gestured to her that she looked gorgeous... I remember that moment. That one moment in time, the last moment of happiness..."
He twisted and turned his fingers, betraying his anguish. She covered his fingers with hers, unable to bear his pain. He looked at her with moist eyes, and held on to her hands, drawing strength from her firm hold.
"There was a gunshot... From Papa's study... I heard Mama scream... Uncle was shouting... We ran to the study. Papa...Papa had shot himself... in the head. He had lost everything, you see. He had written away everything to his brother, signed away everything under the influence of alcohol... Bankruptcy and poverty stared him in the face... There was no money for Di's wedding. The property and money that he had intended to give Di ... all were gone. All taken by his brother...The bridegroom and his family refused to honour the engagement. They left after informing the invited guests of the truth. Papa..Papa took the easy way out...
Mama... She loved him too much... More than she loved us... She...she took the g..gun, and..and in front of us..."
He bent his head, holding on to her hands like a lifeline.
Silent tears poured down their faces, harsh breaths the only sound in that room lit by chandeliers and ornate wall lamps.
"Next morning... after the funeral rites... our uncle threw our belongings out of this house. He said... that he had no intention of feeding or housing us. We ...we stood on the lawn of our house... with our clothes and books scattered all around us, helpless, crying... At that moment, Nani and Mamaji came... Papa hadn't invited them to the wedding, you see. He hated them because they had tried to dissuade him from his wild ways. So Nani and Mamaji had been staying at a relation's house in Kanpur when they heard the news. They took us to their house."
He breathed deep.
"Nani and Mamaji...they looked after us, paid for our education, sent me abroad to learn... Khushi, I studied every moment of every day, not wanting to waste a minute. I wanted to finish studying so that I could earn, pay our way, not be beholden to Nani... All my anger, my pain... I used it to fuel my ambition.
I returned from the US, and wanted to start my own business. Nani sold the house and properties in Lucknow to fund it. Mami sold her jewellery and gave me the money. Then I went in search of investors..." He sighed. "I finally started it."
"Twenty four hours in a day were not enough for me, Khushi. I wanted each day to be longer so that I could pack more work, more achievements into it. I built RM for Nani, Khushi. She had lost her husband and daughter, brought up two grandchildren... I wanted to buy Nani her house in Lucknow, but she said that she didn't want it. I bought Mami as much gold as she wanted. She has thrown in her lot with me when I was a nobody. Mamaji and Akash stood by me, helping me with the work.



I had two more things to do, Khushi. I married Di off to the man of her choice. I gave her a house in a posh locality in Delhi, gold and diamonds, a bank balance that would keep her secure for life even if I died, a monthly allowance...
The last thing left on my list was Sheesh Mahal. I wanted to buy it back from Uncle and give it to Di... She refused to take it. But I needed to buy it for her... I had been stalking Uncle for years. He was deeply in debt, and had pledged Sheesh Mahal. I pulled the rug from under his feet.



I bought it the day we met... That was the first day I had set foot in Sheesh Mahal after being thrown out by my uncle years ago...I felt as though one part of my life had come to an end and the next was beginning..."
He looked in to Khushi's eyes with red and tear-filled eyes.



"I organised a fashion show here in Di's honour... 





...And then you fell into my arms."




Part 25
(All pics credited to uploaders)



"One life ended and another began in one second, Khushi.



I was sitting there, tired, thinking of Mama, and then you walked towards me, stumbled, and fell right into my arms..." He shook his head. "You have the worst luck in the world, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada. The worst luck. You had to fall into the arms of a monster."
Khushi stirred in protest.
"Yes, a monster. ASR, the rude, heartless monster. And you had to go and remind him of his Di's broken engagement in this house. Khushi, Khushi...", he sighed.




He freed his hands from hers and gently ruffled her hair.

"You thought that love was something romantic, didn't you, Khushi? Your first love. But...but you found that love was not romantic, not fun, not roses and stars, not joy... It was bitter, painful. Do you know why, Khushi?"
He lifted her chin gently with his fingers so that he could see her eyes.
"Because you fell in love with me. My life, my past, my present, my future, they are all bitter and dark, Khushi. The very blood that flows through my veins is tainted, Khushi. Every drop of it...", his husky voice warned her. He got up and paced the room, restless.
"I am the son of a wastrel who committed suicide after bankrupting the family, the son of a mother who committed suicide... A boy born as Arnav Singh Mallik...a boy who died with his parents, Khushi... He bled to death with his parents here, on the white marble tiles of his Papa's study...  A boy who changed his name to Arnav Singh Raizada to escape his past...




...A man who killed the Chotey in him to become ASR, to survive in this dog-eat-dog world, to protect his family from poverty, to save himself and his family from being helpless ever again... A heartless monster... A Rakshas."

His sore eyes filled with moisture.



"I hurt you with my words, Khushi, tore the dori of pearls from your back, made you cry, terrified you... I hoped never to see you again because you had touched all my wounds, all my hurt... But I couldn't get you out of my mind.
And then you ran after me at the dargah.  I insulted you, tried to push you out of my sight and life... But you still wouldn't leave me alone." He shook his head, as though in amazement at her folly.



"I ran away to Delhi, and you followed me to Delhi and rode your scooter in to my car. I scolded you and hid in my office, and you came to work in my office. I tried to get rid of you, but you left the office and came to my home. You and your Devi Maiyya couldn't let me stay away from you, could you?", he asked.
"I tried to throw you out of my house and life, and you took up residence in my heart. Khushi, Khushi... Only you would do something so foolhardy as to fall in love with me."
He caught her gently by her shoulders and made her stand facing him.
"How many times did I hurt you, Khushi? Do you even remember? Each time I hurt you, pushed you away, threw you out of my life, you returned to me. How could you return to me, Khushi? Why didn't you give me up for a lost cause?", he asked her urgently.

"I would hurt you. You would cry. A while later you would smile at the others as though nothing had happened. And come to me with some flimsy excuse. You didn't even have enough sense of self-preservation to keep out of my way! Like a moth to a flame, Khushi, you were determined to burn in my love, weren't you?"

He pulled her into his arms, holding her close to his heart.

"My love is a curse, Khushi. Loving me is like being cursed. Do I deserve you? No, I don't. Do you deserve me? You deserve so much better." He dropped a kiss on her hair. "But we are both to burn in this strange fire, Khushi. I don't know why or how. But there is no escape."
He remained silent for a while.

"Is it fair to you? No, it is not. Is it fair to me? No, because I didn't ask for this. But now, we can't live without this."
He looked into her eyes, his hand buried in her hair.



 (Thanx, Shruti_P)

"I tried to fight this love, Khushi. I didn't recognise it for what it was, but I knew it was something strange and powerful. So I tried to fight it. But you had no idea, did you, Khushi? You flew into the fire and burnt for me, didn't you?
He remained silent for a long time. And then he whispered,  "I warned you, Khushi, that I didn't believe in love and marriage. Because love meant death and marriage meant infidelity & pain to me, Khushi."


(Shruti_P, thanx a million!)

He smiled sadly. "Khushi, if you give up on us, you will continue to live on for your family. You will work, you will smile, you will make others happy even when you are sad. But I... I am not as strong as you, Khushi... I will just give up. Because life without you is not to be borne... August and part of September without you...It was hell... Looks like I am like my mother, Khushi. Ready to die for love..."

Khushi's tears fell in a silent stream.

"You should cry at your fate, Khushi. And you should have run away from me, as far and as fast as you could the first time you saw me. But now...but now it is too late. This shaitaan can't let go of his rajkumari.
You are at fault here, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada. I felt no hunger or thirst, no longing for something unknown till you dropped in to my arms and told me that another world existed. Of beauty, of dreams, of love and life... Who gave you the right to cause such upheaval in my life, Khushi? Don't you deserve to be punished for it?"

"Yes...", she said simply, smiling gently through her tears.

He stood still for a moment, her answer surprising him.
"What punishment will you take, rajkumari?"
"Any punishment you give." Her voice was low but steady.
"Khushi..." His longing for her infused his voice.
"Any punishment you give.", she repeated.
"Will you be able to bear it?", he whispered.
"Yes.", she smiled.
"Sure?"
"Yes."
"Then...then here is your punishment. Marriage to me. You will be tied to me for the whole of seven lifetimes. That should be punishment enough for the worst of crimes...", he whispered.
She smiled.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Can you bear it?"
"Yes.", she replied.
"When? When will you marry me?"
"Whenever you want."
His eyes burned with hope. "On Diwali night. In three weeks' time."
She smiled. "Yes."