47. Aao Na, Gale Laga Lo Na


 
Khushi clutched Arnavji's arm as they left the restaurant with the stupid name, Purple Rocket or something. No, it wasn't rocket. She scrunched her face. It was something else. But she had no time to figure it out. She had to focus on steadying the floor that was dipping and rising at an alarming pace. 

Offo, this Delhi! They had earthquakes here! Lucknow was better, anyday! Atleast the floor there knew how to stay put. Unaware that she had spoken her thoughts aloud, she leant against Arnavji's strong arm, winding her arms more tightly around his.

Arnav placed his hand on hers, and slowly led her out to his car. Drunk on a few sips of champagne, he mused, a smile trembling on his lips. Only Khushi could get into such absurd situations. He opened the door for her.

"Arnavji! Why is the ground moving?", she pouted.
"Get in, Khushi. It won't move anymore.", he reassured her.

"Accha?" She crawled in obediently, watching him tuck the flowing skirts of her black anarkali in before shutting the door. She watched him as he slid into his seat and leaned to fasten her seat belt. His hot breath made the fine hairs on her face stand up in attention. She turned her head to look at his face, now just inches from hers. His eyes looked into hers, holding a look of intense amusement mixed with tenderness. She blinked, and slowly moved forward, covering the few inches between their faces. Tipsy, she only knew what she wanted, not what she must do. Her lips touched the hot skin of his throat, right below his ear. She placed a smacking kiss there and withdrew to examine his face again.

Arnav looked at her with wide eyes, the kiss burning like a brand.


(Thanx, PinkCinderella!)

"Arnavji!", she purred, a blissful smile on her cute lips. She threw her arms wide open to accommodate him, knocking her hands on the door and his chest. He drew back, refusing her generous offer of hugs & kisses. He looked at the seat belt in relief. Atleast it would ensure that she didn't leave her seat and launch herself at him while he was driving! He started the car and made his way out of the car park of Purple Orchid.

A few moments later, she started humming, and then singing Aao Na, Gale Laga Lo Na, making up words when she couldn't remember the original ones (which were bad enough).

E, aao na gale laga lo na,
lagi bujhaado na, O jaan e jaan...
Tum ne jo, agan lagaayi hai,
To chhoo ke dekho na, kahaan kahaan...
Dekho..., She turned his face towards hers, her hand holding his chin firmly. 

...seene men kaisi, dhak dhak (hulchul) machi hai,
O saajna...pa...pa...pa... He pulled his chin from her grasp and looked at the long, dark stretch of the road ahead of them, his breathing slightly suspect.


Kaise sharmile ho jaani...
She pinched his cheek, smiling cheekily at him.

Aaja aaja aaja na lehra ke...
Dadi (Duniya) se darte ho, to main
Saare deepak aayi hoon bujha ke...
She placed her hand on his warm thigh, pressing it in time to the music in her head. Arnav gulped, and took her hand off his thigh, looking warily at her.

Ab to nahi koi, ek tum ho ek hum
Ta... ra... ta...
She tried to lean against his shoulder. He shrugged off her head, trying to focus on the road.

E, aao na gale laga lo na,
lagi bujhaado na, O jaan e jaan...
Tum ne jo, agan lagaayi hai,
To chhoo ke dekho na, kahaan kahaan...
She caught hold of his arm and hugged it to her chest.

Behki main behki main behki..., she screeched in his ear. He winced.

Saajan kas lo in baahon ka ghera... He looked at her, desperate for help.
Man hi na tarse milan ke...
Dilbar pyasa pyasa tan bhi mera...

She kissed his arm, his skin feeling her touch through the layers of clothing.

Mujh ko in baahon mein le lo na Arnavji (sanam),
ta... ra... ta... ta... ta...
She tried to throw herself into his arms, but was restrained by the seatbelt.

Tu...ru...tu...ru... She continued humming happily while Arnav could feel himself sweat.


Suddenly, there was blessed silence in the car. Arnav turned to look at her, to find that she was asleep, her head lolling against the headrest, her thick eyelashes, lying dark against her creamy cheeks, her lips slightly parted as though they were still forming words, albeit silently. He heaved a deep sigh of relief, his lips curving into a smile, thinking of all her crazy antics. So she was a happy, romantic drunk. He would have to take care that she never came even a mile near a bottle of champagne in public in the future or he was dead meat. She would ravish him, happily singing some old Bollywood number if he didn't run for it. A laugh rumbled through his chest, shaking his shoulders, crinkling his eyes, creasing his cheeks...

He looked at her, lost in her dreams, a smile on her lips. He couldn't take her in this condition to Buaji's house. Poor Buaji would have a fit. Not to mention Aunty and Uncle. He smiled. He would have to keep her with him till she woke up and felt better. He quickly rang up Buaji.

"Buaji, I called to ask you if I could keep Khushi with me for a few hours more. Err... We will be slightly late...err..."
"Nandkisore, are you both alright?"
"Haan, Buaji."
"Having fun, Arnav Bitwaa?"
He looked at a Khushi lost to the world, and smiled. There was nowhere else he wanted to be at that moment. He had never enjoyed a date more.
"Haan, Buaji."
She could hear the smile in his voice. "Then it is OK, Nandkisore! I will keep a key on the ledge of Khushi's bedroom window. You take it and open the front door, Bitwaa."
"Ji, Buaji. Thank you!"

He couldn't park on the roadside all night and wait for her to wake up. So he drove towards his office. The security guards opened the gate for him, saluting him, used to him going and coming at all hours to finish work. He parked in the parking lot, and freeing her from the seat belt, carried her into the backseat of his car. He sat by her, shrugging out of his coat, letting her rest her head on his lap, her legs on the seat, her dupatta falling down to the floor.

Her hair was arranged in some fancy style with clips and pins. His fingers slowly removed them one by one, finally holding half a dozen of them in his cupped palm. He dropped them into his pocket. He then ran his fingers through her free hair, the dark silky strands clinging to his loving fingers as they massaged her scalp. She moaned her appreciation. His fingers stilled for a moment, and continued on their self-imposed task. Minutes passed. Or was it hours? He had no sense of time. He just knew that he was happy. Happier than he had ever been.

A while later, she turned her body towards him, her face pressed against his waistcoat, breathing in his scent.

"Arnavji!", she murmured, a smile in her voice, still asleep.

He pushed aside a few strands of hair that had fallen against her cheek, letting his fingers linger on the softness of her face. He touched her nosepin, her ear, the fine lines of her swan-like neck, her jaw... He looked at her to see her eyes open, looking at him with all the love in the world.

"Khushi!"

"Arnavji!" 

She lifted herself from his lap by clinging on to his shoulders. He helped her, his hands on her arms. She sat straight on the seat, her legs curled under her, and then she threw herself at his chest, burying her face in his neck. Her fingers came up and tried to undo the tie and the first couple of buttons on his shirt. He helped her. She crawled into his lap, her arms around his back, and sighed in happiness, her breath feeling hot against his neck.

"Khushi! We need to go back home.", he said reluctantly.

"Home?", she frowned.

"Buaji's house.", he reminded her.

"Oh!" She looked at him, her direct gaze melting his heart. "Do we need to go?"

His lips trembled in a smile as he nodded reluctantly.

"Arnavji, what happened?" She looked around. "Why are we here, in your office? That too in the car park?"

"I couldn't take you home, Khushi. You... err... you were not feeling well..."

"Haan...", she recollected. "The ground was unsteady and..." She frowned, "Arnavji, what happened to me?"

"You were... err... drunk."

"Drunk? How can I be drunk? I drank only one glass of cold sherbet."

"Err... that was not sherbet, Khushi. That was champagne!"

Khushi looked at him, her eyes round in shock. "Daaru? I drank daaru! I don't even drink bhang on Holi, and I drank daaru?", she lamented. "Oh, what will Amma & Babuji think of me? Buaji!", her face looked horrified at the thought of Buaji's reaction.

Arnav hid his laughter, and said mildly, "I thought you were used to drinking alcohol."

"Uuh?"

"I remember you standing on a stool, bottle in hand, calling gaaonwaalon to see how Arnav Singh Raizada had tortured you and how he was going to jail in his coat, suit, and boot, and chaki peesiiing, chaki peesiiing..." She blushed.

"Arnavji!", her eyes reproached him. "I was joking, poking fun at you to make Jiji laugh. She was upset because I was late returning from your house that night. And I had a water bottle in my hand, not your fancy daaru bottle..."

Suddenly she sat up. "But how did you see me? I was doing nautanki in my bedroom, not on the street. So how did you see me?"

"Err..., I returned to see if you had reached home safely..."

"...After throwing me out of the car.", she reminded him, a stern look on her face.

"Yes.", he sighed. "I saw you through the window."

They sat silent, both of them lost in memories of their shared past.

Finally, he said, "Shall we go home?"
"Ji."
"Buaji has left the key for us."
She looked at him in shock. He smiled at her. "I had to inform her that we would be late."
Arnav scooped up the dupatta on the floor of the car and placed it around her neck. He then helped Khushi off his lap and into the front seat. He started driving towards Laxmi Nagar.

Khushi looked at her hands in her lap, the fingers curled in the skirt of her black anarkali.
"I wanted you to enjoy this evening, Arnavji. I...I am sorry it turned out like this...", she whispered, her head bowed.

"I enjoyed it, Khushi.". She looked at him astonished. "We had a meal together, just the two of us... You look so beautiful today, Khushi, that I am tempted to carry you off to RM with me..." She blushed. He sighed in pleasure. "No disturbances, no phone calls, just the two of us... That was what you wanted, wasn't it?"

She nodded.


(Thanx, xXPatelPriyaxXx)


"And then...", he smiled fondly at the memory, "... I got to hear you sing..."
She looked at him in horror.

He hummed, "E, aao na gale laga lo na,
lagi bujhaado na, O jaan e jaan...
Tum ne jo, agan lagaayi hai,
To chhoo ke dekho na, kahaan kahaan..."

Her face was a picture. He had to try very hard to control his laughter. 


"Khushi..", he whispered. "If you wanted me to hug you, kiss you, touch you, all you had to do was say. After all, pati hoon tumhara. Haq he tumhara, mujh pe!"