53. Keeping Khushi (Parts 1-10)
Part
1
Arnav
Singh Raizada, the perfectionist strode across the foyer of AR Music, his lips
curled in their customary contemptuous smirk. He was going to pay a surprise
visit to his manager, Singhania. He needed shaking up badly, this Singhania.
His long legs ate up the distance, Aman struggling to keep up with his boss.
"Chotu!",
a sweet voice murmured.
His
feet stilled. He turned around.
He
saw Beauty personified. Beautiful, big eyes with long lashes, holding a loving
smile in them. Clear, creamy skin, just begging him to touch it. His fingers
tingled. Dark, healthy hair coiled in a bun at the back of her head. A modestly
dressed fairy in a white salwar suit with a high neck and long sleeves, the
dupatta pinned decorously to cover her bosom.
"Thank
you for your gift."
She
listened with a loving smile to the person at the other end.
"I
have made your favourite Karela sabzi. Have your lunch, and bring home only an
empty lunch box. Got it?"
Chotu
said something over the phone that made her smile more, giving him a glimpse of
her pearly white teeth, and her eyes brimming with love.
"I
will see you in the evening.", she murmured lovingly.
Fury,
the likes of which he had never known before, rushed through his veins. Panic
was close behind. The feeling of something precious slipping through his hands
was very strong. How dare she smile lovingly thinking of some man!
It
made him do something he had never done before. He hissed urgently, "Aman,
find out who that girl is. I want to meet her."
Aman
dropped his bag. It fell with a clatter on the floor.
Part 2
"Khushi
Kumari Gupta, Sir. She came to record a song here. A budding classical singer.
Also sings fusion stuff with new singers & bands."
"Get
her here. Now."
"S..sir?"
"Now.
Here."
After ten
minutes of treading the carpet threadbare, Arnav heard what he had been waiting
for, a timid knock on the door.
"Come
in.", he tried to say evenly.
Khushi
opened the door gingerly, and walked in.
There was
just a man in the room. He turned around. Six feet tall, sculpted face,
chocolate eyes, strong nose, jutting chin, lean body in a formal suit...
Khushi.
She was even more beautiful than he had thought.
The
muscles of his face and body tensed at his proximity to the girl he had wanted
to meet so desperately. And now she was standing in his room with him, just a
few meters away from him.
"I
am Arnav Singh Raizada.", growled the lion-like man in a husky voice.
She
nodded, her eyes revealing her discomfort in being in the same room with him,
alone.
"I
own AR Music. And AR Industries."
She
nodded slightly, wondering why he had summoned her to his office.
"You
are Khushi, aren't you?"
"J..j..ii..",
she stammered. Her voice was sweet, syrupy, like honey, soothing and arousing
at the same time.
"I
have a proposition for you."
Arnav was
determined to fix the matter immediately, before she left this room.
"J..j..i..i.?"
"A
deal. I can give you something you need badly. The chance to sing at big
concerts, to record for big labels, trips & performances abroad, lots and
lots of opportunities and money. Big money. I am talking crores here."
Khushi
was speechless. Not because she was fascinated by the offer, but because of
this stranger's inexplicable generosity. Did saints wear coat & suit?, she
wondered.
"It
is not charity, but a deal. You will give me your time in return."
Would she
throw herself at him, press those full, delicately plump lips against his lean
cheeks in gratitude? Arnav almost shuddered with desire and want at the very
thought. But she was standing in her place, looking at him as though she
was not sure her ears were working properly, her wide-eyed look almost comical.
"Time?",
she managed to get out.
Was she
still asleep in her narrow bed in Anand Sadan? Caught in a nightmare she
couldn't escape from? A nightmare in which she was alone and the world around
her made no sense to her. In which she was lost in the crowd and couldn't make
her way back to her home?
"Yes.
Time. You will come out for dinner with me, to parties, shopping, spend time
with me... I will get you a flat in a posh locality in Delhi."
She
looked at him as though he were speaking Greek.
"I...
I have a home.", she protested softly.
"I
won't be able to visit you there. So a flat it is. And of course a car &
driver for you."
Arnav
waited as he had never waited for anything in his life before, eager to know
her answer. His eyes lingered on her face & form, burning to possess her
sweetness, the pure lines of her face, the freshness emanating from her, the
jasmine scent, her softness, her honey voice... Everything. Even each breath
that she took...
She
looked at him for a long time, her perplexed eyes focused on his face. Finally
she asked softly, "Are you alright, Mr. Raizada?"
"ASR.
Call me ASR."
Khushi
gulped & nodded.
"Are
you alright, Mr. ASR?"
Arnav
lifted a sardonic eyebrow. "Why do you think I am not alright?"
"You
want me to have dinner with you, take you shopping and to parties, spend time
with you? Why? Are you alone? Don't you have a family?"
Arnav
swallowed. The genuine confusion and concern for him that he could see in her
eyes stopped him from being his brutal self. He was the master of straight
talking, but with her... But it had to be said, and said now.
"I
want us to be lovers." He finally said it.
"Lovers?",
Khushi asked, astounded. "Lovers? But we don't even know each other! How
can we fall in love with each other? We just met!" A cute frown marked her
forehead.
Arnav's
throat worked rapidly.
"Who
said anything about falling in love?"
The frown
deepened. She tilted her head slightly, and looked at him enquiringly.
Arnav
drew in a deep breath.
"I
want you to be my mistress. I will provide you with accommodation, many
opportunities to sing and build your career, money, and all comforts. In
return, you will make yourself available to me at all times."
Khushi
paled. Her whole body trembled. Her wide, shocked eyes looked into his hard,
hot ones, unable to take in what she had just heard.
Arnav
swallowed. So she was not used to this. No man had ever touched her. Ever
kissed her. Found a way through her ultra-conservative clothes. His resolve to
have her increased manifold. His need for her crossed all bounds...
"I...I
am s..sorry." , she whispered. "I.. I don't do such... such things.
I..I.. have never...never..." Her voice gave way. She turned and walked
away, too shocked to even cry.
Arnav
clenched his fists, stopping himself from stopping her and locking her in his
room for ever with the greatest difficulty. As soon as the door swung shut
behind her, he pulled out his phone with a shaking hand.
"Follow
her. Get me her address."
Part 3
Khushi
walked home like a zombie, not registering the traffic or the people who passed
her by. She opened the gates of Anand Sadan, and walked slowly into the
spacious courtyard of the house. She made her way to the topmost floor of the
building at the far end of the compound. Soon, she stood at the door of a room.
"Baba?",
she called hopefully.
"Come
in."
She
walked into a suite of rooms, making her way to the thin, tall man sitting in
his arm chair and looking out through the large window.
She let
her bag fall on the floor, and sat at his feet, leaning her head against his
knee. Slowly his hand fell on her head, and his long fingers patted her hair.
She hugged his legs, and buried her face against them. Tears leaked from her
eyes, and they fell silently, wetting the legs of his pyjamas. When she was all
cried out, she heard the most beautiful sound imaginable.
Her Baba
humming, and then slowly singing her favourite song. Taarva ginat ginat maikko
raina in Bibhas. The voice that lakhs of people yearned to listen to, the music
that could waken even the sleeping gods was hers...
Soon she
wiped her tears away and joined in, and they explored the raaga with relish,
drowning all their sorrows in the pleasure of making magic together, teasing
each other, egging the other on to delve deeper into the raaga, loving the chance
to make music together...
When the
song was over, Baba asked gently, "Are you alright now, my taarva?"
Khushi
nodded, smiling. And kissed his hand.
Arnav
looked at Anand Sadan, seated in his car, hiding his presence. An old, big
building or more than one building on a big parcel of land in a crowded
locality. As he sat watching, batches of kids went inside through the gate.
Students to learn music? So that was how she earned a living?
But why
should and how could she live in such a big house? How did she pay the rent? Or
did she own it? Or, rage filled his heart & mind, was she sharing this
house with some man? If... if she was, he would... he would burn this building
down, take her away from him...
He shook
his head, trying to clear it.
"Aman,
get me the details of this Anand Sadan. Who owns it? Who lives here with her?
What is Khushi's source of income? Now."
"Sir."
Aman cut the dead phone.
What was
happening to his boss? In the six years he had been employed in AR industries,
he had never heard of ASR being involved with any one. The opportunities were
many. The models contracted by his fashion house always tried to hook ASR, but
Aman had never seen ASR even glance at a model. No love letters or gifts had
ever been received or sent by ASR. No suspect phone calls, no lipstick marks.
ASR had never been seen with any lady anywhere, not in restaurants, not in
hotels, not at parties. The photo of his unsmiling, stern face appeared
regularly only in the business section of newspapers. He was a disappointment
to all journalists wanting to peep into his private life. He kept it that way,
private.
All Aman
had seen him do in six years was work. Work all day, everyday.
Arnav sat
in his car outside the house for hours, thoughts battling each other in his
head. As he was about to drive away, he saw her.
Dressed
in a simple yellow anarkali with long sleeves and a high neck, she had the
yellow & green dupatta neatly draped across her chest, hiding the lines of
her body from other eyes. Her hair was in a neat, low, stylish bun. As he
watched, she walked away from the house, thali in hand. Must be to some temple,
he thought. He drove slowly through the narrow road, keeping an eye on her.
Khushi
prayed to Devi Maiyya, desperate for peace of mind. Ever since she had met
Arnav Singh Raizada, ever since he had made her the disgusting offer to buy her
body, she hadn't been able to sleep. Every night had been filled with
nightmares, her hidden insecurities raising their heads to be heard in her
dreams, making her days and nights devoid of peace.
She
turned around and looked straight into Arnav Singh Raizada's face.
Her
breath hitched. He watched shock leach the colour from her face, leaving her
creamy skin looking milky white. He quickly caught hold of her arm, and slowly
led her away from the crowd.
Looking
into her beautiful face, holding her warm arm with fingers that wanted to do a
lot more, he asked, "Did you think about my offer?"
Khushi
looked into the hard chocolate eyes, and her throat worked to swallow, her
mouth dry.
"I
gave you my answer that day. In your office...", she whispered. She tried
to free her arm, but his hold, though gentle, was firm. Her other hand held the
thali.
"Sure
you won't change your mind?", his husky voice had a very strange effect on
her skin. It seemed to touch her through her clothes. He could feel her
trembling through the fine cloth of her suit. He moved his fingers slightly,
caressing her. The trembling increased.
"No."
"No,
you are not sure?"
She looked
into confident, molten eyes, revealing the pleasure he was deriving from
touching her, holding her.
"No,
I won't change my mind."
She
managed to free her arm with little fuss. Maybe because he had decided to let
go of her.
"You
will regret refusing me, Khushi." The threat sounded like an endearment.
Part 4
The house
was owned by a Shukla. A Mohan Shukla. Khushi paid rent to him, a measly
amount. He frowned at the paper with the details. Why such a small amount?
The house
was actually rented out by Shukla to a Pandit Sasi Sharma. Who was he? How was
he related to Khushi?
The paper
also had a list of Khushi's scheduled programmes and details of the organisers
of the concerts and the members of the bands she associated with. She would not
escape him. His power was immense, his contacts numerous. Arnav smiled, his
lips twisting in mockery. Khushi would soon know who Arnav Singh Raizada
was. She was nothing more than a fly trapped in his web. His web of need, of
want, of... of l... He stopped himself.
Aman
flinched seeing Arnav Singh Raizada smile. It boded ill for someone, most
likely Khushi Kumari Gupta. She would rue the day she had set eyes on him.
"Aman.",
the soft, dangerous voice called him back to earth. "What is the
relationship between Khushi & Sharma? Who the hell is he?"
"I...
I have no idea, Sir."
"Find
out."
By
evening, Aman placed a file containing the few bits of info he could gather in
such a short time.
Arnav
flipped it open, eager to find out more about Khushi.
Sasi
Sharma was a musician, a singer. Something of a recluse. He left the house only
twice during the year, to participate in two of the most prestigious classical
music concert series in India. The rest of the time, he taught a handful of
students in Anand Sadan. There was no clear photo of this eccentric and very
private genius as he had an allergy to being photographed. Khushi lived with
him. Had been living with him for years. No one knew the details of the
relationship between them.
Arnav
clenched his jaw. He could feel heat suffuse his face. She would not stay with
Sharma anymore. She was his. Only his...
"Get
me Mohan Shukla."
His cold
voice sent a chill down Aman's spine.
Khushi
placed the phone on the table, her hand trembling. Two of her public
performances had been cancelled. The organizers had called her to apologise for
their inability to conduct those programmes. She had been shocked, but had
managed to ask them why. Years of cordial relationship between them had forced
the men to tell her the truth. Arnav Singh Raizada had threatened them with
ruin if they included her in any of their programmes.
She sat
down, her hands clasped in her lap. She drew deep breaths, eyes closed. If
their income was affected, then food, clothing, school fees, rent, medical
bills, lawyer's fees... How would she meet them?
She
pressed her clasped hands to her heart, and prayed desperately for divine help.
A sharp
cut in expenses was essential. No, not just essential, but unavoidable. And all
would have to be told in the next couple of days.
That
evening, all the children and adults gathered in the small temple within the
courtyard of the house as usual, and sang bhajans and prayed in gratitude for
the new chance at life they had been given, the roof over their heads, and
their many blessings...
Khushi
stood on the fringes of the crowd, the pallu of her red sari draped over her
head, hands folded, singing along with the others, looking at the happy faces
of the children, praying earnestly to Devi Maiyya for deliverance from their troubles.
A hand
touched her shoulder gently.
"Chotu?",
she turned around to look at the lanky teenager, standing just behind her. He
smiled, and said in her ear, "Di, someone wants to see you urgently."
Khushi
nodded, smiling at him, caressing his cheek. Must be someone from the
store. She had asked Kishorilalji to send someone to collect the money
for the groceries they had purchased for the month.
Khushi
wrapped the pallu tighter around her head & shoulders as she walked in to
the living room in the main building of the house. There was a cold wind
blowing. She hoped Akki wouldn't start coughing tonight.Arnav
watched her walking towards the room he was waiting in. Her graceful figure was
draped in a red sari and a blouse that had long sleeves and covered her waist.
The pallu over her head covered everything except her face. Her face! Her face
looked drawn, the smile absent. Something clenched in the region of his heart.
She must have got the news of her concerts being cancelled.
Who were
the children gathered in the temple? The boy who had opened the door to him?
Her students? Where was Sasi Sharma? Then a thought flashed through his mind.
Were... were some of these kids hers and and Sasi Sharma's? His eyes hardened
into cold ice.
She
lifted her right leg over the doorstep to enter the living room. He looked at
her bare foot, the well-shaped ankle adorned by a simple silver anklet.
Her eyes
fell on Arnav Singh Raizada, and her breath caught in her chest. He had reached
her home. Now where would she run?
He looked
into her startled eyes. They looked bruised, as though she had not slept
properly for days. A wave of shame rose and fell over him. What was he doing?
He had never, ever done anything of this sort before. Why was he doing this
now? Why did she have such a hold over him that the very thought of losing her,
not making her his, was enough to drive him mad?
"Come
with me.", he said softly.
She
looked at him, unable to understand him.
"Give
up your fight. You can never win against me. Come with me now."
Khushi
swallowed a big ball of pain and worry that had lodged itself in her throat.
"No.",
she said.
Arnav was
about to speak when someone entered the room. A girl. About 8 or 10 years old.
She had a white cane to find her way.
"Di
Amma!", she called, her blind eyes searching for Khushi.
"Haan,
Simi. I am here."
The child
smiled. "Di Amma, Baba is asking for you."
Khushi
became alert. "I will be there in a minute."
"I
will tell him." Simi made her way out of the room.
Baba!
Sasi Sharma must be the Baba. His face hardened.
Khushi
looked at an Arnav Singh Raizada standing like a pillar in her living room. She
said, "Please excuse me. I need to..."
He didn't
want to hear of her going to Sasi Sharma. He said, "It will be in your
best interests to hear what I have to say. After all, it is a matter of losing
the roof over your heads."
Khushi
looked at him, confused.
"You
can get ready to move out of this house, Anand Sadan, if you don't change your
mind about my offer." His voice and eyes were cold.
"Ji?"
"One
week. You have one week to decide. If you decide not to be mine, you can hand
over the key to this house to me next Monday." He dropped his card on the
tiny table nearby.
"But...,
but...", Khushi tried to make sense of what was happening. "We pay
rent to Mohanji."
"Yes,
a measly amount. Do you call that a rent? Shukla sold the house to me."
Khushi's
face paled. It looked almost bloodless against the crimson colour of the sari.
His breath stopped for a second.
"You...
you own the house now?"
He looked
at her, silent.
"You
want us to l..leave this h..house?"
She
looked around. The table mats that Akansha had made over two months, the walls
painted by all of them because they could not afford painters, the temple where
they all prayed daily in the morning & evening, the halls where they
conducted music lessons and small concerts, the kitchen where they all cooked
and laughed, the dining hall where they all had their food together, the
railings Vivek had fixed so that she could walk without any one's help on one
of her bad days... So many memories of years of love and togetherness! Tears
clogged her throat. He swallowed hard, looking at the devastation on her face.
"Let
me know before Monday.", he croaked. He walked out, unable to look at the
pain on her face for a moment longer.
Part 5
Arnav
waited for the whole of Tuesday, hoping that she would call. But she didn't. He
paced the length & breadth of his bedroom, frantic. Hari Prakash, who came
to give him his glass of unsweetened juice, almost had his head bitten off for
breathing. The laptop lay neglected on its table, his plants were forgotten...
That
night, as he measured the floor of his bedroom with his long legs, he came to a
decision. There was something fishy about the entire set up in Anand Sadan. Had
he not been so crazed about, obsessed about Khushi, he would have realised this
earlier. The presence of the kids... The blind child calling Khushi Di Amma...
The boy who had let him in... The large group praying... The Baba who stayed
away when the others prayed...
And
Khushi. The day he had proposed a live-in with her, he could have sworn that
she had been shocked, that such a concept had been new to her. But she was
living with Sasi Sharma. What was happening in that house?
The first
thing next morning, he contacted a leading detective agency.
Khushi
looked at her Baba who was lying back in his armchair, his eyes closed. She sat
on the floor, lifted his feet on to her lap, and pressed them, hoping to
be of some comfort to him.
A while
later, he said softly, "There is only one place where we can go."
Khushi
felt the pain behind his even words, and shrivelled inside, dying a little with
him.
"We
need to go to Omkar tomorrow and check if it is habitable.", Baba looked
at her.
Khushi
nodded, blinking away her tears.
"Tell
the boys & girls not to go to college tomorrow. We will need to do a lot of
cleaning."
"Haan,
Baba."
"We
have only a week."
The next
day, Khushi, Sasi Sharma, & a veritable army of girls & boys with
brooms & buckets, walked to Omkar, a huge, ancient house a couple of
streets away from Anand Sadan.
On
reaching the locked gate, Baba gave the key to Khushi. She opened the rusty
lock. The children streamed in. Khushi caught hold of his hand, and led Baba
in.
Sasi
Sharma stood near the gate and looked at Omkar. The house was in shambles. A
strong gust of wind plastered his pale green kurta to his lean body, and
caressed his face. He closed his eyes in acute grief. He could still hear his
wife's sweet voice calling him on his way out, reminding him to buy raw mangoes
for her. In the sixth month of pregnancy, she had wanted to eat raw mangoes.
And he had bought them. But...but... He felt Khushi take hold of his arm. He opened
his eyes.
"Baba,
please sit here."
She led
him to a clean chair she had got from the sitting room. She gave him a glass of
water, and joined the boys and girls who were running around the whole house,
marvelling at the huge rooms and the equally huge cobwebs.
Soon,
after inspecting the whole house, they set to work. They attacked the cobwebs
and dust with gusto, the children laughing and singing as they worked. They
returned home for lunch, worked in Omkar till dinner, and then returned home
for dinner. The ones remaining in Anand Sadan packed the belongings of all the
inmates so that they could leave the house as empty as they had found it years
ago.
Every
night, after all the others settled down in their beds, Khushi took painkillers
and rubbed a special oil into her body, especially her lower body to keep her
going. She wanted to keep moving till they shifted out of Anand Sadan. Once
they reached Omkar, she could fall down. But till then, she had to walk. She
had to walk out of this house.
On Sunday,
Khushi took out the card that ASR had left on the table from her purse, and
taking a deep breath, dialled the first number.
"ASR
here.", was the brusque greeting.
Khushi
felt her mouth go dry. She could not form a word.
Arnav was
about to cut the call, when something about the quality of the silence tugged
at his heart. He closed his eyes tight.
"Khushi?",
he murmured.
"J..ji..i..."
A few
silent seconds later, he asked softly, "What have you decided?" He
could hear his heart go dhak dhak, loud enough to deafen him.
"If...
if you can come here tomorrow morning at 10, we can give you the keys to Anand
Sadan. It.. it is alright if you can't come here. I will send the keys to your
office. Your card has the address."
There was
perfect silence. Arnav couldn't believe his ears.
"Where
will you stay?", he asked, acute shock and disappointment making his
question toneless.
"Ji,
we found another house... Acha, let me end the call. We have to do some last
minute packing."
She ended
the call in a hurry. She didn't want him to know her new address.
Aman
called Arnav.
"Sir,
you asked me to..asked me to cut Khushiji's engagements..."
"Yes."
"I...I
couldn't cancel all of them. Some bands and concert organisers refused to agree
even though I threatened them with ruin."
"Why?"
"They
have been associated with Pandit Sasi Sharma and Khushiji for years. They have
a very strong bond with them. My threats did not work."
"Leave
them.", instructed Arnav in a low voice. "Aman, you don't need to
block her concerts anymore. Undo the damage we did to her career at the
earliest.", he ordered.
Part 6
After a
sleepless night spent pacing his room, he was dressed and ready far too early
on Monday morning. Unaware of his entire family around the breakfast table,
waiting for him to join them, he left for Anand Sadan. Anjali, his sister,
called after him asking him to have breakfast, but he did not hear her. He left
without a word.
He
reached her house. The gate was wide open. He walked in. There was perfect
silence and no one to be seen. He looked around.The last time he had come here,
the children had been praying, singing...
Then he
heard the sound of bells ringing. Arnav looked towards the temple.
Khushi
was praying, the pallu of her golden yellow sari covering her head. A lanky boy
in a white kurta stood by her, his hands folded in prayer. Arnav stood near the
gate, watching them.
Khushi
felt tears fill her eyes as she looked at Devi Maiyya. They had lived here for
10 years. Every morning and evening for those 10 years, they had lit the lamp
at the feet of Devi Maiyya and prayed, begging for her protection. And she had
always heard their pleas. Now, there would be no one to light the lamp. The
house would be as silent as a morgue. She tried to blink the tears away. She
did not want to upset Chotu.
Arnav
watched Khushi turn to walk down after her prayers. He saw her hand go
out, and the boy quickly taking hold of her arm and helping her walk towards
the gate. Why was the boy helping Khushi?, Arnav frowned. Had she sprained her
ankle or hurt herself in some way?
Khushi
leaned heavily on Chotu, needing his help to make her way down to the gate
where she would wait for ASR. It was not yet time for him to come.
She looked
around. The morning light was kind to the houses, falling like a golden curtain
over the four buildings in the compound. The houses had sheltered them,
protected them, heard their laughter, seen their tears... She felt her throat
close in grief. She touched the leaf of the mango sapling she had planted last
year. She wouldn't see it grow into a tree or watch it bear fruit.
Arnav
felt something close around his heart, her understated sorrow eating into him
like acid. He looked closely at her pale face within the cover of the pallu.
Halfway
to him, she turned around and looked at the many buildings that made up Anand
Sadan for the last time. They would never see them again. Chotu left his hold
on her arm, and quickly put his arm around her shoulders to comfort her.
Khushi
moved towards the gate, seeing ASR waiting for them only when she was a few
meters away from him. She stood disconcerted for a moment, and then slowly
walked up to him.
When she
reached him, she held her hand out towards the boy, murmuring,
"Chotu..."
So this was Chotu, Arnav thought.
Chotu
quickly put his hand into the pocket of his kurta, brought out the big bunch of
keys to the houses, and placed them on her palm.
She held
out the bunch of keys to Arnav. For the life of him, he couldn't lift his hand
to take it.
After a
few moments, Khushi caught hold of his right hand with her left one, prised
open his fingers gently, and placed the bunch of keys in his hand. She closed
his fingers around the keys, and let go of his hand. His hand fell to its
original position.
"Shall
we leave, Di?", asked Chotu.
Khushi
nodded.
She
looked at Arnav.
"It
is time for us to take leave of you.", she said softly to him. She and
Chotu folded their hands, said "Namaste.", and left his presence. He
stood still, helpless, watching Khushi leave, her hand held in the strong grip
of her brother.
Part 7
Arnav
stood there, watching Khushi and Chotu leave, pass through the gate, and
disappear from his sight, unable to speak or move.
He looked
at the houses and at the keys in his hand that shook slightly. The entire place
resounded with emptiness. The silence was louder than a drum played in his ear.
"Sir...?",
came Aman's reluctant call from behind him. "The meeting with the
delegates from Axis Group...?"
Arnav put
his hand with the keys into his pocket, curling his fingers around the
keys tightly, savouring the pain that the metal caused.
"Aman,
call the Fingerprints detective agency. I want the report on Khushi today. No
more delay."
"Sir."
Aman sighed soundlessly.
"Did
you contact...?"
"Yes,
Sir. Khushiji will have no more problems in her career. In fact, she has a
lecture demonstration at the University College tomorrow. The organisers were
very relieved."
Arnav
swallowed hard, a sense of regret & defeat eating into him.
Arnav
walked into his house at night, his hold on his bag containing the file on
Khushi secure. Aman had managed to get a preliminary report from the detective
agency after hanging around the office for hours and forcing the manager to
release it before it was time.
"Nannav!
Come on, let's watch a movie together!", invited NK.
"Haan,
Bhai.", said Akash.
"Chotey,
chalo na, please?", Anjali pouted.
"Haan,
Arnav Bitwaa, all wark (work) and no play makes Arnav Bitwaa a dull bay
(boy)!", added Mami.
"Nannav,
we are going to watch Dilwale Dukanniya Le Jayenge!"
"Hello
Hi Bye Bye! Dukanniya naahi, dulhaniya, dulhaniya! Matmal bridewaa,
bridewaa."
"Oh!"
NK looked confused for a second, and then he said, "Sorry!"
By then
Arnav was already in his room, the door locked, the bag opened, and the file in
his shaking hand.
The file
had details only of the present. The agency hadn't had enough time to look into
Khushi's past.
She was
21 years old.
Anand
Sadan had housed an orphanage that she ran with Pandit Sasi Sharma. The
orphanage had been shifted to a house named Omkar, located two streets away
from Anand Sadan this week. The building was owned by Sasi Sharma, but had been
left locked for the past 10 years.
Both
Khushi & Sasi Sharma lived at the orphanage with about 20 children, some
studying in schools and some in colleges.
The main
source of income was Khushi's concerts. She and Pandit Sasi Sharma also took
music classes at the orphanage. They had a legion of students.
The file
also had the address of Omkar.
That was
all.
Arnav ran
an agitated hand through his hair, throwing the file on his bed. So he was
right. It was an orphanage. The children weren't hers. He pulled his coat off
and threw it on his bed. He then attacked his tie, feeling short of breath. He
clawed it off his neck, and discarded it. He walked the length & breadth of
his room, his mind going crazy thinking of ways to make her his, realizing that
he had gone about it in the worst way possible.
The next
noon, Arnav walked into the University College, Aman following close. There was
still an hour left for Khushi's programme to begin, but the hall was full. Boys
& girls, men & women, students & teachers...all had secured their
place in the audience. The hall had large windows, and as Arnav watched, more
and more people began to station themselves near the windows to have a glimpse
of Khushi.
As he
watched, Khushi, Chotu, and a girl, accompanied by some men from the
institution came into the hall. The crowd cheered loudly. Khushi was walking by
herself, without any aid. His eagle eyes watched her pause slightly at the foot
of the steps leading to the stage and Chotu's arm promptly helping her up.
She was
wearing a gold & maroon silk saree and a long sleeved blouse. The pallu was
pinned on her left shoulder, and then pulled across her right shoulder to cover
her entire body. Other than her face, the beginning of her neck, and her
fingers, he could see nothing else. Her hair was in its usual neat bun, circled
by a ring of jasmine flowers.
Chotu
discretely helped Khushi sit down in the centre. She introduced the musicians
accompanying her. Chotu, whose real name was Nikhil, was on the tabla and Akshaya
was to play the harmonium.
Arnav who
had never attended a classical concert in his life, stood awestruck as he
watched Khushi interacting with the crowd. Her humility and her talent came
across very well, touching every single person in the audience. She began with
a short and entertaining description of the raagas she was going to sing, and
then she introduced the raagas in all their various moods, their nuances, &
their intricacies in a very direct & simple manner.
He realised
to his shock that she had a wicked sense of humour and a heavenly voice that
could enthrall the masses. The crowd smiled, laughed, and even shed tears as
she touched their hearts with her renditions of Din Ki Puriya, Des, Gara etc.
She brought in film songs based on the raagas she was singing, encouraging the
crowd to sing them with her. At the end of the 2-hour programme, she tried to
bid goodbye to the audience, but they were in no mood to let her go. Finally,
at the end of four hours, she put an end to the concert. The curtains fell and
the crowd gave her a standing ovation.
"According
to the organisers, the only demand that she always makes is that the stage
should have a curtain that should be dropped at the end of her
performance.", Aman whispered in Arnav's ear. Arnav's eyes widened.
An alert
Arnav rushed to the side of the stage. He saw Chotu and Akshaya help Khushi
stand up, and Chotu put his arms around Khushi, cuddling her against his
shoulder.
Suddenly
he realised why Anand Sadan had railings all over. Khushi needed to hold on to
them if she had to get up after sitting on the floor. Arnav felt the blood
leave his face. In her new house, how would she...?
There was
something wrong with her health. But what? The first time he had seen her at
the studio, she had been fine. She had been wearing flats, but her walk had
been normal. The second time he had seen her at the temple, she had been fine.
She had climbed the steps on her own. The third time at Anand Sadan, she had
been fine. But the fourth time, when he had gone to take the keys from her, she
had needed help to walk. Today, she was better than she had been on the day she
had handed over the keys. What was wrong with her?
The next
few hours were hell for Arnav Singh Raizada. He could not concentrate on his
work. His head felt fit to burst. Thoughts of Khushi, regret at having hurt her
feelings, pain at being far away from her, grief at the thought of her illness
and pain, the need to be with her, all driving him almost out of his mind. He
left the office and drove to Omkar. It was time for the truth.
Part 8
He walked
into Omkar, looking around him. It was late in the evening, and he could see
children studying in a big hall. As he watched, a small girl got up and came
out of the room to drink water from the pot kept near him.
"Where
is your Khushi Di?"
"In
her room." The child smiled at him, showing gaps where the milk teeth had
fallen off. "She is making laddoo for Akki's happy birthday tomorrow. Do
you like laddoo?"
Arnav
nodded.
"I
looove laddoo."
Arnav
smiled slightly, and asked, "Where is your Di's room?"
The child
pointed out the room to him.
He walked
to it, the dark hiding his presence.
Khushi
was in her room, sitting on a chair, making laddoos from the mixture in a big
pan placed on a low table in front of her. The long sleeves of her blouse were
slightly folded back. She was humming, a slight smile on her face, singing
softly in places,
Man Harwa
Mori Re...
She
pressed the mixture into balls using her hands, and placed the laddoos on a big
thali. There was a mountain of them.
Chunariya
Rang De...
She felt
someone's eyes on her, and looked up. Arnav Singh Raizada stood at the door to
her room, looking at her. The laddoo in her hand fell into the pan with the
mixture. Her mouth fell open in shock.
How did
he find her new address? She stood up slowly, the folds of her pink sari
falling into place. She automatically pulled the pallu lying over her right
shoulder tighter to cover her bosom further.
Arnav
walked into the room, and caught hold of her shoulders, pulling her close to
him. Only a few inches separated their bodies & faces.
"What
is wrong with you?", he asked urgently. "Why can't you walk without
help on some days? Why do you need help to get up after you have been sitting
on the floor?"
She
stared at him, her eyes wide with shock.
"Answer
me, dammit!"
"How
did you find this house?", she asked, unable to produce more sound than a
whisper.
"What
is wrong with you, Khushi? Tell me, dammit!". He shook her gently.
"Nothing.
Nothing is wrong with me." She tried to wriggle out of his arms. But he
was not having any of it.
"Khushi!"
"I
am perfectly all right."
"Right!".
No one could beat him in sarcasm. "That's why you couldn't put one foot
after the other the day you gave me the keys to Anand Sadan. You needed help to
get on to the stage at the University College, sit down on the stage, get up
after the concert..."
She
stared at him as though he had grown four more heads, all as terrible as the
first.
"How
do you know all this?", she asked, shock thinning her voice.
That
stumped Arnav. His hands loosened their hold slightly, and Khushi slipped away.
She backed away from him, and went to stand behind the chair, holding on to its
back.
A strong
believer in the adage that attack is the best form of defense, Arnav Singh
Raizada set out to shock and anger her into telling him everything about her
and deflect her questions about his degree of knowledge about her.
"You
run an orphanage with 20 kids. You sing and teach music to feed and clothe
them. There is something seriously wrong with you. And there are railings all
over Anand Sadan so that you can sit, rise, & walk without the help of
others when you are unwell."
Khushi
stared at him.
"You
dress as though you were a hundred years old... Salwars that cover you from
your neck to your feet... Sarees wrapped like a shroud around you... Blouses
with long sleeves... The pallu over your head most of the time... Hair in a
bun!" He pretended to fume. "You, Khushi, you have a saint complex,
sacrificing your life and youth for the children you have taken off the street.
You are wasting your life. Do you hear me, you are a loser. A loser, left
behind while the rest of the world is far ahead of you..."
He looked
at her, expecting her to shout at him, get angry at such a personal attack.
Khushi
looked at him for a while, and then smiled slightly, not angry at all.
"But
that's my business, isn't it, Mr. ASR?", she asked softly, stating an
absolute truth. "It is my life to sacrifice, my body to cover, my time to
waste..."
He stared
at her with burning eyes. What was this girl made of?
"We
met a few days back by chance. You made me an offer. I refused it. Our
conversation should have ended there."
He looked
at her, silent, wary.
"But
you came to the temple to persuade me. You cancelled my concerts to force me to
accept your offer. I still refused to do so."
Her voice
was even, the tone conversational.
"Then
you came home and tried to force me to accept your offer by threatening
eviction. You gave me a choice. I chose to leave. The matter should have ended
there." She was calm and friendly.
"Then
why are you here, Mr. ASR?"
He glared
at her.
She
smiled gently at him. "My life, my clothes, my health, my well-being, my
happiness..., these are really none of your business, you know." She
sounded almost apologetic as she told him to butt off.
Arnav
Singh Raizada saw red. How dare she try to push him out of her life?
"Not
my business? Really?" His fury and pain overpowered his self control.
"Sasi
Sharma! Did you think no one would know? Or care? What kind of scoundrel is he
to live with a girl much younger than him under the cover of running an
orphanage? The rasc..."
He
couldn't complete the word. Khushi had her hands wrapped around his neck.
"DON'T.
SAY. A. WORD. ABOUT. MY. BABA."
He stared
at her, shocked out of his skull. Her face was pale, and her eyes furious. Even
when he had insulted her with his offer of live-in and his views about how she
should live her life, she had been calm. But one word about Sasi Sharma, and
she turned into Goddess Durga? One word about Sasi Sha... Baba? She called him
Baba? He looked into deadly serious eyes glaring at him.
"Khushi...",
he croaked.
Her hands
tightened around his neck.
"NOT.ONE.WORD."
He
nodded. She released her hold on his neck, and moved back. They stood staring
at each other for sometime, both of them breathing hard.
Finally,
she said, "I am sorry. I should not have tried to strangle you. But you
should not have insulted my Baba."
"Your
BABA?", his voice was faint as he confirmed the relationship.
She
nodded. "MY Baba. It is time for you to leave. Kindly do not disturb us
again."
"I
will go...", he said. "...once I get the answer to the question I
asked earlier. Are you ill?"
Khushi
sighed.
"I
was in an accident sometime back."
He paled.
"I
was hospitalised for some time. I am perfectly fine now. It is just that when I
strain too much, old injuries start playing up. Then I have some difficulty in
walking. That is all."
"Khushi...",
he murmured. He knew that she was downplaying her injury to put him off the
scent. How he wished he could bear the pain for her!
"I
am used to it. My children are used to it. It is so much a part of our lives
that we don't think about it."
Arnav
swallowed hard. "Khushi!"
"Goodbye,
Mr.ASR."
He looked
at her resolute face. A few moment later, he murmured,
"Goodbye,
Khushi..." She heaved a silent sigh of relief. He added, a small smile on
his lips, "For now."
As he
drove home, the smile on his lips vanished. She was Khushi Kumari Gupta. How
could Sasi Sharma be her father? What the hell was going on?
Part 9
"Chotey,
will you take us to the temple today? There is a special pooja today in Devi
Maiyya's big temple near the banyan tree.", pestered Anjali.
Arnav
muttered into the phone, "Remember what I said about the full & final
report from Fingerprints detective agency, Aman. Today is the day they agreed
to give it."
"Sir.
I will see to it."
"No
more excuses from them, Aman."
"Sir."
"Akash
& I will be a bit late today."
"Yes,
Sir."
He cut
the call to be surrounded by his Nani, Mami, Anjali, NK, & Akash, all ready
to carry him off to the temple. He sighed. He had hoped to stop at Omkar on his
way to the office, and find out more about the relationship between Khushi and
her Baba. But... It looked like he would have to wait till evening.
He waited
with ill-concealed impatience as the ladies purchased all the stuff they needed
for the pooja, and then followed them up the steps. He prayed with them, and as
he turned to leave, saw Khushi and the small gap-toothed girl, the
laddoo-lover, standing behind him, praying with closed eyes. He stood still,
looking at Khushi, mesmerised not just by her beauty, but also by the peace on
her face.
"Chotey,
let us go out.", suggested Anjali. But Arnav didn't hear her.
NK said,
"He Nannav, mere bhai, walk. People are giving me dhoka (dhakka)."
He continued
to look at her. Red sari. The pallu covering her head. Thali in hand. Eyes
closed, lost in prayer...
"Khushi!",
he whispered.
She
opened her eyes to look at him, horrified. In the temple too! How come he
appeared before her everywhere, day and night?
"Namaste
Uncle!"
"Namaste!",
said Arnav.
"Why
didn't you come home today morning? You missed the laddoo. I told you last
night that today is Akki's birthday."
"Err..."
Khushi
stared at him.
His
family stared at him more.
"Nani,
what is happening here?", asked Anjali.
"Who
is she?", asked Akash.
"Nannav
is in love?"
"Love?",
asked Mami. "He has got himself a good bargainwaa. Ek ke saat ek ekdum
phree! One childwaa with one bridewaa phree!"
"Bhai!
In love?", asked Akash, cleaning his specs for a better view of the
proceedings.
"She
is so beautiful, Anjali Bitiyaa!", whispered Nani. "And devout."
"Haan,
Nani. They look so good together."
"Haan,
haan, Saasuma, Anjali Bitiyaa!", said Mami. "They looks good
together. But first find out who that child's phather ijj. If she already has a
husband..."
"Shubh
shubh bolo, Manorama!", chided Nani.
"Khushi,
come with me.", Arnav invited, taking hold of her hand. "I need to
talk to you."
Khushi
opened her mouth to refuse, when suddenly, a group of people who had been
staring at them, joined them.
"Haan,
we too wants to talks to you.", said Mami.
"I
am Devyani Raizada, Chotey's Nani.", the elderly lady introduced herself
to Khushi. Khushi folded her hands in greeting, but asked confused,
"Chotey?"
Nani and
the others smiled. "Arnav. We call him Chotey at home.", Nani
explained with a smile.
NK added,
"I call him Nannav. I am his brother."
"I
am his Mami. Hijj one and only Mami."
"I
am Anjali, his sister."
"I
am Akash, Bhai's brother."
"My
bitwaa.", added Mami, pointing at Akash.
Khushi
nodded and greeted everyone. She introduced the child with her as Nidhi.
"You
have only one child? Where ijj your husband? How did you meet hamre Arnav
Bitwaa?", Mami shot questions at her.
Before
Khushi could answer the bewildering questions, Nidhi asked, "Di, why are
Mami's eyes coloured blue?"
With
great difficulty, Arnav managed to get rid of his family, and steered Khushi to
a stone bench in the temple premises. Anjali had taken Nidhi away to dig for
details about the orphanage and Khushi. His entire family was sitting around
Nidhi, trying to extract information from her.
Khushi
said, "I need to return home now."
"Khushi,
five minutes."
"Ji."
She craned her neck to see if Nidhi was safe.
"Khushi,
why is your surname Gupta and your Baba's surname Sharma?"
Khushi
looked at him, astonished at this question. Finally she said, "Because I
am not his daughter by birth."
Arnav
looked keenly at her.
"I
am the first child Baba adopted."
"Why
did he adopt you?", Arnav asked in a low voice.
"Because
we both needed each other."
Arnav
raised an eyebrow, indicating that he wanted her to explain further.
"Why
are you so interested in our past?", asked Khushi, genuinely curious to
know what was driving him.
"Because
I don't like mysteries." His voice was low but sure.
Khushi
looked at him, a smile hidden in the depths of her beautiful eyes, and said
reasonably, "We are two strangers who met at your studio for a few
moments. Nothing more. I don't have to know you and you don't have to know me."
"We
do." Arnav was certain about that.
"Why?"
"Had
I known you, I would not have insulted your Baba."
Khushi
looked at him, first at his face and then at the neck that she had squeezed
with her fingers. She gulped.
Arnav hid
a smile as her eyes strayed to his neck. He got in first. "I am sorry. I
should not have said such things about your Baba."
"I
am sorry too. I should not have attacked you.", she said, her face within
the red pallu lowered in shame. "It is just that when someone abuses my
Baba, I lose control over myself." She sighed.
"You
love him very much, don't you?"
"Haan."
It was as
if the sun rose on her face. Her eyes twinkled, a wide smile decorated her
lips.
"My
baba is the best. The greatest musician this country has seen, the best man on
earth..." She was cent percent sure of these.
Arnav
swallowed the lump in his throat, seeing the love blazing from her face.
"He
does not go out much, does he?", asked Arnav casually.
"No.",
Khushi's face fell. "He does not like people very much."
"Was
he always like this?"
"No."
Her eyes filled with tears. "He used to be cheerful, have lots of friends,
go for many concerts. But..."
"But?"
She drew
a deep breath. "Omkar is Baba's house. His home. He was born there."
Arnav
nodded.
"He
married slightly late in life. A very, very beautiful lady who sang like a
goddess. They were very happy. I have seen the photos." She wiped a tear
from her cheek.
Arnav
nodded.
"One
day, when she was six months pregnant...", Khushi had to pause.
"Haan?"
"Baba
had to go for a concert in the evening. He had arranged for a lady to stay with
his wife for the hours when he had to go out..." She sniffed.
"The
lady said that she would be a bit late. So Baba left before she came. But she
didn't come that evening... Baba's wife...she tripped on the stairs..., rolled
down the steps, and...and bled to death...The..the baby too... When Baba
returned home..."
Khushi
cried silently. Arnav closed his eyes, his mind caught in the horrifying
picture of what Baba must have seen that evening.
"My
Baba lost interest in life." She wiped her tears with the handkerchief
that Arnav handed over to her. "He started drinking. He would drink from
morning to night. To forget. Soon, he stopped going for concerts. The world
forgot him. His friends..his friends left him. My Baba was alone..."
"He
used to drink and...and fall on the roadside. Somebody would take him to
the h..hospital. They would b..bandage his bruises, and send him off. He..he
would drink again, and fall down." She sighed.
"That's
how we met."
Arnav
frowned at her.
"At
the hospital.", she clarified.
"What
were you doing in the hospital, Khushi?", he asked, scared of the answer.
Khushi
looked at him as though he had lost his marbles. "What does one normally
do in a hospital? Get treatment, of course."
"Treatment?"
Arnav's voice shook. "Khushi, what was wrong with you?"
Khushi
frowned. "I told you yesterday. I had an accident."
"How...
how old were you, Khushi?", Arnav whispered, the thought of her alone in a
hospital hurting him.
"Ten.",
she said.
Part
10
"Ten?",
he whispered.
The
temple bells pealed.
Khushi
looked at her watch, and jumped up. "I need to get home. It is so
late."
Arnav
caught hold of her arm. "Khushi!"
"Vivek
will be coming by noon. I need to..."
"Vivek?"
Khushi
smiled, her eyes filled with love. "My brother. Baba adopted him after he
took me in." She said, proudly, "He is studying and working at the
same time, in Mumbai. It is Baba's birthday tomorrow. So he will be coming
over."
"You
love him too." It was a statement.
"He
is my brother." That was another statement. Khushi added. "He is the
one who set up the railings in Anand Sadan for me. So that I could go about my
daily work without depending on others."
Arnav
looked at her, speechless. Who was she? Would he ever understand her fully?
"Acha,
I need to go now. Goodbye!" Khushi took a step forward to seek Nidhi, but
Arnav caught hold of her arm once more.
"Just
two more minutes, Khushi."
She
looked at him wondering why he was so insistent. He tugged at her arm, gently,
and made her sit by him.
"Khushi,
what happened to you? The accident?"
Khushi
looked down at her hands in her lap, playing with the fringes of her pallu.
"My
father, mother, and I...we were going for a movie. There was an accident."
Her voice was low but matter-of-fact, as though she were narrating something
that had happened to someone else.
Arnav
closed his eyes, unable to look at her face. A few moments later, he asked,
"Your parents?"
"Died
then and there. Only I was alive."
"You
were badly hurt?", he croaked.
She
nodded. "I was in the hospital for months. For treatment and because I had
no other place to go."
"Khushi!"
"The
doctor didi was kind. She kept me there for as long as she could, gave me two
sets of clothes... And I met Baba there a few times." She smiled slightly.
"When they discharged me, I had nowhere to go. I was standing outside the
gate of the hospital, wondering what to do, when Baba called my name from
behind."
Arnav
couldn't breathe. He blinked to clear his eyes.
"He
said that he was a drunkard. Totally irresponsible. Bekaar." Khushi
smiled, thinking of her Baba's huge heart. "He said that if I was willing
to go with him, I would have a roof over my head. Only a roof, not a home. Because
he didn't know where his home was. That it had all vanished in a day." She
sighed. "I didn't know it then, but he must have been talking of his
wife's death."
"And?"
"I
went with him."
"And?"
Khushi
looked at Arnav.
"He
took me to Omkar. I cleaned it up, learned to cook through trial & error,
and managed. Baba sent me to school, bought me clothes and books... One day, he
heard me humming some movie song. That day, he started my music lessons."
"Baba...
Baba stopped drinking after he took you home?"
Khushi
laughed. "No. His nightmares wouldn't let go of him. He needed oblivion
more than he needed to breathe."
Arnav
stared at her, his eyes wide in shock.
"After
I came to Omkar, Baba fell drunk on the street once, and got hospitalised. I
locked the house, and ran to the hospital. He had a broken arm. I helped him
back home, and for the next few weeks, fed him and held the glass for him to
drink. Brandy, gin, rum. I learnt to identify them."
He
looked at her, shock written clear on his face.
"After
that, Baba never went out to drink. He would buy bottles in cartons and drink
at home. I was so happy."
Arnav
stared at her. "Happy?"
"Atleast,
he was safe. If he fell, he would fall at home. And I could help him into bed.
It was a big relief."
"Baba
drinks still?", Arnav asked.
"No.",
Khushi smiled. "He stopped a year after he took me in."
Arnav
waited.
She
sighed. "His drinking companions would come to Omkar daily to join him.
They would sit in the living room, drink, sing loudly, laugh, cry, have
snacks... I was not permitted to enter the living room. Baba was very strict
about that. I didn't understand why he was so particular about this rule, till,
one evening, one of his so-called friends entered the kitchen where I was
cooking our dinner, and tried to..."
Arnav
paled. He caught hold of Khushi's arm as though to keep her safe.
"I
bit that man's hand and screamed. Baba and the others came running. Baba beat
him black and blue. That day he threw all of them out, broke the liquor
bottles... He pulled me into his arms, and cried all over me, apologising for
not taking better care of me. He took me to his room, and he swore on his
wife's photo that he would never drink again, never put me in danger again...
Then
he took me to Shukla Chachaji's house, and asked him to give him Anand Sadan
for rent. Chachaji was so happy that Baba was turning over a new leaf."
Khushi smiled, lost in her memories of those days.
"He
said he wouldn't take any rent from Baba. But Baba insisted. He didn't want
anyone's charity. And that's how we came to Anand Sadan. When Chachaji died,
Baba asked Mohanji to hike the rent. But Chachaji had asked his son not to
increase the rent. That was how we lived there, paying a token sum every month
to Mohanji."
Arnav
nodded.
"Di?",
Nidhi called. "Shall we go home? My stomach is hungry. It is making angry
sounds. It says it wants laddoo."
My second reading of this story is as delightful as the first one. Khushi's tenacity and the depth of Arnav's love just blew me over when I read it for the first time. I started reading your stories when you had just finished His 'Smiling Girl'. I am not an IF member. I was not really aware of the forum or the fact that there exists a separate forum for fiction, until quite late and by that time the show had lost its essence! Yeah I am slow :). Just casual browsing one day brought me to your blog and i couldn't control myself from reading every single line that you have written. Soon I realised that I needed a blog account to comment. So here I am. The first comment that I ever posted was on your blog, for Finding Khushi!
ReplyDeleteThank you, sweetheart! It means a lot to me to connect with people who are as crazy about Arnav & Khushi as I am.
DeleteDear Smitar! How should I express my delight and khushi while reading your stories. I actually cried while reading the last lines of this story and am eager to follow the rest. Whatever Priya wrote, I second it. Thanks and again thanks for sharing your beautiful imagination about our beloved Khushi and Arnav with us. How I love this new Khushi, strong, beautiful, calm, emancipated and fighter.
ReplyDeletei am reading it third time...this time on blog
ReplyDeleteWhat can I say, Smitaji? I love this story. The characters are the same but the story line is a little different. Like Priya, I was never on IF and came across your blog. Have been a silent reader for a very long time and now I can't seem to shut up. I'm reading this story for the -----nth time.
ReplyDeleteWhat can I say, Smitaji? I love this story. The characters are the same but the story line is a little different. Like Priya, I was never on IF and came across your blog. Have been a silent reader for a very long time and now I can't seem to shut up. I'm reading this story for the -----nth time.
ReplyDeleteExcellent story, I'm speechless
ReplyDeleteLoved the syory so far. Thank ou.
ReplyDeleteWow I cannot believe that the devil ousted her from the house as she refused to be his mistress. How dare he insult her like that.
ReplyDelete