Wednesday, 26 December 2012



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."









9 comments:

  1. 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!

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    1. Thank you, sweetheart! It means a lot to me to connect with people who are as crazy about Arnav & Khushi as I am.

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  2. Dear 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.

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  3. i am reading it third time...this time on blog

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  4. What 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.

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  5. What 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.

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  6. Excellent story, I'm speechless

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  7. Loved the syory so far. Thank ou.

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  8. Wow 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.

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