116. Marrying Khushi (Part 33-)

Marrying Khushi: Part 33

“Khushi!” ASR called her.

Khushi gasped in shock, turned away her head to wipe away her tears, and stood up and turned to face him. 

“Ji.”

“The dressing table will be brought here tomorrow.” he said, his voice husky, low.

Khushi nodded.

“Khushi, come with me. I will shift my files and make space for your clothes.”

Khushi followed him.

As they shifted files and clothes, ASR tried to talk to her, but she blocked him every time with silence or monosyllabic answers. She was thinking furiously about the revelations that evening.

“Khushi, if you need to go shopping, just mention it to Di.” ASR said, looking hopefully at her.

Khushi’s eyes were on her bottle of chavanprash. He was rich!

“If you need anything, tell me.”

Khushi looked at the jooti in her hand. He owned Sheesh Mahal!

“I will ask Di to bring you to my office tomorrow. You can meet my employees. You know Aman, of course.”

Khushi squeezed the life out of the box of channa in her hand. And girls liked him?

“I will have to go to Lucknow next month for the fashion show at Sheesh Mahal. You can come with me if you want to. We can meet Amma, Babuji, and Buaji.”

Khushi strangled a bottle of chameli ka tel. Did he like the girls?

“Take Mittu along if you want to. I…” ASR was not fated to complete the sentence.

“Do you like girls?” she blurted out.

ASR’s eyebrows hit his hairline.

What the! Had his lack of action on their wedding night prompted her to think that he…that he…. ASR opened and closed his mouth like  a landed fish.

“I mean…the girls who proposed marriage to you…” she tailed off.

ASR swallowed in relief.

“I don’t know…I mean, Nani dealt with such crap. I have no idea who proposed and what.” ASR confessed.

“Oh!” Khushi sighed in relief.

“Why did you ask, Khushi?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Nothing.” She bundled her clothes in to the space provided and stood up. “I am sleepy. Good night.”

ASR spent a good part of the night looking at the sweet face of his bride as she slept, exhausted after such fruitless and furious thinking.

Why had she asked him about other girls? ASR wondered. Was she…was she jealous of them? Joy flooded his heart. Would this spark of jealousy, if fanned, help him get through her blank face and distant demeanour to her heart? He was tired of being kept out of her head and heart. He was scared of her silence. The look of fear that he had glimpsed on her face at times rent his heart. This had to end. He wanted the old Khushi back, the one who thought nothing of speaking her mind, who was ready to teach him a lesson if she felt he needed it, who hit him, cried over him, shouted at him, dreamed of him, who was fearless.... He couldn’t let her withdraw from him.

The next day, Anjali took Khushi & Payal to her Chotey’s office.

Dressed in a red and white anarkali, Khushi looked ethereal. The sindoor in her maang, the red bangles on her arms, the diamond managalsutra around her neck — all made her look like the bride she was. Payal was in dark green, and Anjali was in a blue sari.

Anjali phoned Chotey as soon as the car halted at the entrance to the huge building.

“Chotey, we are here.”

“Akash & I are in the office. Come up, Di.” ASR said. “Aman will escort you.”

As soon as she cut the phone, Aman was before Anjali. Greeting all three of them fondly, he led them up the steps to ASR’s cabin.

Khushi looked around.

It was so big. Full of glass and red colour. Too many employees, many of them girls. And all the girls were dressed in short clothes, had short hair, and were made-up. She swallowed nervously. She was better off making jalebi in Lucknow, teasing the small children of her locality, running after crows who came to steal the mango pieces drying on her terrace, fighting with her Chachas and Mamas, riding high on the swing in Preetho’s courtyard….What was she doing here?

They reached ASR’s office.

He left his power seat and came up to them. Akash smiled and moved towards Payal.

“Di, Bhai, shall I show Payal my office?” Akash blushed.

ASR & Anjali nodded, hiding smiles.

“Khushi, come, sit down.” ASR held out chairs for her and Anjali. They sat down.

ASR took his seat.

A pretty girl in a pastel pink top and blue mini-skirt came to the door holding a file.

“Aman Sir, is the boss free? Can you get his signature…?” Her request remained half said as she spied ASR’s family in the room.

“Boss is busy…” Aman began.

ASR looked at Khushi. She was looking at the girl.

“Aman, send her in.” he said.

Aman’s eyebrows went flying. Normally, no employee had sanction to approach ASR directly. Aman was the only person permitted to submit documents to ASR.

 He motioned the employee in, sharing a worried glance with Anjali. What was ASR up to?

“I am s…sorry, Sir.” the girl stammered. ASR’s temper was legendary and little was needed to trigger it off. And why had he invited her in? All employees had to go through Aman Sir to reach ASR.

“That’s OK.” ASR was affability itself. The employee’s eyes popped out. Aman looked at Anjali in wonder. What was going on?

The girl placed the file on the table before him. She bent to open it to the page she wanted him to sign, forced to stand close to his left shoulder to get her job done.

Khushi felt her heart skip a beat. Anguish filled the space in her chest that was supposed to hold her heart.

ASR signed one page. The girl bent to turn the page.

Khushi looked down at the engagement ring on her finger, the mehendi with ‘Arnavji’ written on it, the mangalsutra lying against her heart…. She had made a terrible mistake in marrying him. She should never have left Lucknow for Delhi. She should have married some halwai, paanwala, chudiwala, or channawala and lived happily in her small world.

But Jiji…. Khushi’s heart grew heavy. And how could she return to Lucknow three days after the wedding? How would Amma, Babuji, & Buaji face the world if their married daughter came home with her tail behind her legs, a failure at marriage, unable to please her husband, unable to win his heart?

“Thank you, Sir.” the girl said. ASR had not screamed at her. She could not believe her luck!

ASR nodded. The girl scurried out of the room.

Anjali & Aman looked at ASR. ASR looked at Khushi’s pale face lowered to inspect the floor.

Had his attentions to the employee made her jealous? At least a bit? Her face was blank as she raised it to answer some comment Di made. Didn’t she care? he fretted.

That evening, a grand party was organised at RM for ASR’s colleagues and fellow businessmen.

The lawn and house were filled with people dressed in formal clothes.

Khushi & Payal were wearing red designer saris gifted by Anjali. 

 (Payal)

Payal had put up her hair, and Khushi’s hair was unbound. Both of them looked so beautiful that all eyes rested on them for long moments before passing on.

“Khushi, you look beautiful.” ASR complimented her.

Khushi smiled slightly and looked away, nervous. What did it matter to him how good or bad she looked. His eyes were sure to stray to other women. Her heart bled.

“Khushi, don’t worry. They are all just acquaintances. You don’t even have to remember their names. They will greet you & Payal & move on.” He tried to put her at ease.

“Ji.” she replied obediently, looking down at the pleats of her sari.

Soon, the introductions started.

“Khushi, this is Ashok Merchant. He runs Merchant Financial Services across India.” ASR introduced a handsome boy who did not look old enough to run a race, let alone a firm.

“Khushi, I am so glad to meet you.” Flirty eyes twinkled in her direction. He caught hold of her hand and tried to kiss it. She pulled it back in affront before the kiss could land.

ASR’s jaw clenched. His fingers curled in to his palms.

“Your friends are looking for you.” ASR managed to growl.

Disappointed that Khushi wouldn’t play, the boy went to join like-minded friends.

Khushi wiped her hand in the pallu of her sari.

“ASR!” the shrill cry almost tore his eardrums.

It was Mona, a model who had worked for his firm in the past and was now married to the head of Malhotra Enterprises, Kapil Malhotra.

ASR turned to look at Khushi’s face. Yes! Success went to his head like the rush of good wine. Her face was pale and her eyes rested on Mona with an expression of dislike and fear.

“Mona!” ASR’s husky voice cooed.

Had Aman been privileged to hear ASR cooing at Mona, or at anybody for that matter, he would have had a heart attack. Thankfully, he was at the other end of the room.

Mona’s step faltered. Why was ASR so polite to her? Normally he avoided her because she talked too much! Her eyes fell on Khushi standing next to him. Maybe he was trying to show his beautiful wife that he was a gentleman and had good manners.

Mona smiled uncertainly as she approached them.

ASR opened his arms and leaned forward. Mona air kissed him, her cheek slightly brushing his. Why was he letting her air kiss him when he normally barely shook hands with her? Mona wondered.

Khushi grit her teeth. Her fingers closed around the pallu with murderous intentions. Her eyes shot fire at her husband and promised him swift payment. Her blood boiled and her hands itched to throw something at his smirking face.

ASR smiled at Khushi.

Mona gulped. ASR could smile? If only her husband had accompanied her to the party. He would have been able to witness this rare sight!

“Khushi, this is my friend, Mona. Mona, my wife, Khushi.” ASR was all smiles as he introduced the two ladies to each other.

Mona's eyes bulged. She was ASR's friend? Since when? She hugged Khushi who swallowed her ire and stood in her place with great difficulty.

Mona would have liked to chatter to Khushi, but many people were waiting impatiently in the line behind her. She moved away, all smiles.

The party was over at midnight, and an army of helpers was clearing the furniture and decorations, the plates and glasses, the balloons and flowers, the lights and the chairs.

Khushi had retired to her room and ASR followed her, eager, anticipating an outburst from her.

He pushed open the door and his pillow hit him squarely on the face.

Part 34

“Khushi!” 

“Don’t Khushi me, you…you…” A book on management skills came flying at him.

He ducked.

“Khushi, what are you doing?’ he asked, delirious with joy.

“You Rakshas! You Shaitan! You Laad Governaar!” A flower vase, a book, and another pillow came his way.

“Khushi, calm down!”

“I will calm down when I am dead! I thought you were khadoos, akhdoo!” Tears filled her eyes and poured down her cheeks. “I was ready to live with that. I thought no body wanted to marry you. But that was alright with me.”

She wiped away her tears with one hand and grabbed his laptop.

“No, Khushi, no…” ASR tried to save his laptop, but she hurled it at him. He managed to catch it at the last second.

“I didn’t know you were rich. I didn’t know that the girls in Delhi were dying to marry you. I didn’t know that you owned Sheesh Mahal. I thought you were renting it. I didn’t know you had a big business.”

She took two books and threw them one after the other, aiming for his head.

“Khushi! All that does not matter. All that matters is that we are married.” ASR tried to get a word in edgeways.

“Yes, our marriage. Why did you marry me? Did I come after you, pleading, begging that you should marry me? Did I threaten you? Did I build a tent in front of your house and sit there in bhook hartal to force you to marry me? Then why did you come to my house and tell my family that you wanted to marry me?”

“Khushi...!”

“There is no shortage of girls in Delhi. There are lots of them around, everywhere, in the streets, in your office, at your party! Then why didn’t you marry them? Why did you have to marry ME?”

“Khushi, listen to me!”

“Hum nahi listen karenge! I was happy in Lucknow. Why did you have to marry me and bring me to Delhi to cry? Why couldn’t you have married someone rich, educated, from your kind of background? Why did you have to marry me and destroy my life and my peace of mind?”

“Khushi!”

“Chi! Laughing and talking with other girls when your wife is looking at you! If this is what you do in the presence of your wife and family, I shudder to think what you will get up to when you are alone with them!” Khushi let it all out.

“Khushi, Mona is just a friend! Her husband is a friend…”

Khushi gasped.

“You were kissing your friend’s wife! He Devi Maiyya! What a bounder I have married!” Khushi gasped.

“Khushi!” ASR began to fume.

“Ghatiya aadmi! Smiling at that poor girl who came to get your signature! She is your employee! You pay her salary. You are responsible for her well-being, just as though you were her father. You should be looking after her, protecting her. And you are smirking at her! And kissing your friend’s patni! Chi! You don’t know the difference between a sister and a premika? Chi! Chi!”

“Khushi!” the lion roared, his memories of his childhood rising to overwhelm him.

“Yes, this is Khushi! I won’t stay a moment longer with you! I don’t want to see you again in my entire life! I thought…I hoped… But you cheated me, tricked me, fooled my parents and Buaji, you…you…lecher! You adulterous animal!”

ASR threw the laptop on the floor. The sound shocked Khushi in to silence.

ASR marched up to Khushi and caught hold of her arms.

 “How dare you call me these names!” he shook her. 

“I dare because they are true.” Khushi caught hold of his collar, tears trailing down her cheeks unchecked. “Why did you marry me? If you wanted to chase the women in Delhi, then why did you marry me?” Her voice broke.

“Because I love you, dammit! Because I can’t live without you! Because all I can see when I shut my eyes is you! Because you are my world, my breath, my reason for living!” He threw her away from him and stood panting.

Khushi collapsed on the bed, staring at him, unable to believe her ears.

ASR quickly called Aman.

“We are setting out for Agra now. Collect me in 15 mins.”

He turned to look at a shell-shocked Khushi. “I will not trouble you with my presence for three days. I have a conference in Agra. If you want to return to Lucknow, you are free to do so. Ab khush?”

Khushi stared at him, speechless.

He threw formal clothes in to his suitcase, hurled in a couple of files, his medicines….

Khushi sat staring at him as though in a dream.

ASR lifted his suitcase and moved towards the door. He paused.

“I will call Di & tell her that I had to leave early in the morning.” He said, his voice husky, low, hurt. His eyes fell on the laptop on the floor. “Tell her that it slipped from my hands.” 

He left.

Khushi ran to the window the moment he vanished from her sight.

She lifted her hand to call him back. She parted her lips, but her voice abandoned her.

Her eyes lingered on his figure as he walked down the steps to the front door and out. Tears poured down her face; her breath caught in her chest.

Part 35

“Khushiji!” Anjali looked up from her laptop. "Everything is ready for the fashion show in Lucknow next month. You & Payalji will be accompanying us, won’t you? We can meet Amma, Babuji, & Buaji too!” Anjali smiled widely at her.

Khushi nodded, smiling weakly.

“Nani, Mami, & Mama too want to join us. It will be great fun!” Anjali laughed.

Khushi nodded.

Anjali’s laughter died away. “Kya hua, Khushiji? Why are you so pale? And you look as though you have been crying.” Anjali folded the girl in her arms. “Are you missing Chotey?”

Khushi hugged Anjali tight and buried her face in her neck. She nodded. Her tears wet Anjali’s blouse.

"He called in the morning. It is only for three days, Khushiji." Anjali smiled as she smoothed a kind, loving hand over Khushi’s tresses.

They sat together for a while. Then Anjali said softly, “Khushiji, I can’t tell you how happy I am that Chotey met you and married you. I was scared he would be alone all his life….”

Khushi lifted her head to look at Anjali.

“After our parents’ death…after leaving our home to stay with Nani… Chotey became another man. Hard. Determined to succeed. He tried to outrun our past, to conquer it. Buying Sheesh Mahal, our home, back from Chachaji who threw us out after our parents committed suicide, was all he thought about….” Anjali’s mind relived her horrific past.

Khushi’s face paled.

Anjali looked at Khushi.

“Khushiji, Lucknow is the place where we were born. The place where we spent a happy childhood. The place where my mother found out that my father was having an affair with another woman and shot herself with his gun. The place where our father killed himself two hours after finding our mother’s body.”

Khushi felt her head spin.

“It was on my wedding day.” Anjali sighed. “The groom refused to marry me and he and his family left us to our fate.”

Khushi gasped. She caught hold of Anjali’s hands and pressed them in empathy.

“And then our Chachaji threw us out.” Anjali swallowed. “Khushiji, Chotey has never been to Lucknow in all these years. Aap ko pata he, the first time he went there in years was to buy Sheesh Mahal back.”

Khushi stared at her.

“I don’t know where he saw you that day, Khushiji, but I give thanks daily to Devi Maiyya that he did. He returned and began planning a fashion show in Lucknow, trying to get new models from Lucknow, girls not familiar with the industry. I think he was looking for you.”

Khushi felt tears leak from her eyes.

“I can’t tell you how frantically we looked for you. Amanji, Chotey, and I. And only Chotey knew what you looked like. Amanji & I only had an idea that Chotey had fallen in love with some girl he was searching for.”

Khushi tried to dry her tears.

“After weeks of looking for you, we were returning to Delhi when we stopped at the market. And Chotey found you!” Anjali smiled. “When Amanji & I saw him dragging you behind him, we knew it was you he had been waiting for, seeking all these days.”

Anjali dropped a fond kiss on Khushi’s cheek.

“Aap ko pata he, Khushiji, Nani had been trying to get Chotey to marry for the past three years. He would not even glance at the photos of the girls.” Anjali cupped Khushi’s face. “Because he was waiting for you. Waiting for you to smother him in love. Waiting to meet you so that he could know what love was all about.”

The nasty things she had shouted at him rushed through her mind. Khushi shut her eyes in pain.

“You know, Khushiji, you are his gift. The compensation for all the pain and loneliness he suffered most of his life. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you and Payalji, Amma, Babuji, & Buaji have become ours. Mittu too.”

Khushi tried to smile. What would Anjaliji say if she knew what had happened in their bedroom last night?

Khushi ran to hug Mittu.

“Mittu, hum se bahut badi galti ho gayi! He Devi Maiyya, why did you make me like this? How could I be so foolish that I couldn’t see love in his eyes even as I was looking for it?” Khushi wept copiously.

Mittu squirmed and flew away to sit on the headrest of the recliner. She studied Khushi’s penitence with her beady eyes.

"What will I do now? He thinks...he thinks I hate him...." Khushi wailed.

Mittu sang,

Mere piya, ho, mere piya gaye rangoon,
Kiya he wahaan se teliphoon…

Tumhari yaad sataati hai,

 jiya men aag lagaati hai….

Khushi perked up. “Mittu, I will call Arnavji and apologise. Tell him that I didn’t mean all that I said….”

The picture of her husband’s furious face flashed through her mind. What if he refused to take her call?

She had nothing to lose. She had lost everything anyway. Khushi quickly selected his number and called him.

The phone rang, but he did not answer.

ASR checked his phone during lunch break. Khushi had called. His face became wan. She must have decided to return to Lucknow, and was calling him to finalise their future plans.

He swallowed hard, looking out of the window at the Taj Mahal.

He should call her back. But what if she asked for a divorce?

What if she went to Lucknow and refused to return to Delhi when he went to bring her back?

He should not have tried to make her jealous. It had backfired on him. He massaged his throbbing temples, clueless as to his future actions. He had messed up, big time.

“What is wrong, ASR?” Aman asked, anxious.

“Nothing. Just a headache.” ASR turned to return to the hall.

Aman’s phone rang. Khushiji!

“Ji, Khushiji. How can I help you?” Aman smiled.

All he could hear was sniffing.

“Khushiji?” Aman asked. Was she sick? Or sad?

“Amanji! Where is Arnavji?” a teary voice asked.

So she was crying. Why was she crying? Was she missing ASR so much? Aman had to hide his smile.

“ASR is attending a conference. In Agra, as I am sure he told you. He is in the hall right now. I am going to join him.” Aman set her mind at rest, his tone kind as if she were a child.

“I phooned Arnavji. But he did not take the call.” Khushi cried.

“He is busy, Khushiji. His phone is in silent mode. He may not have noticed that you had called.” Aman reassured her, smiling.

Khushi burst out crying.

Aman stared at his phone, alarmed.

“What happened? Why are you crying, Khushiji?”

“I want to see him.” Khushi sobbed.

Aman hid his smile. So that was why ASR was distracted today. That was the secret behind his headache when normally it was him giving others headaches. New love and all that! And the marriage was in the honeymoon stage. ASR & Khushiji should be spending a week or more holed up in some beautiful hotel somewhere private, enjoying themselves. Instead ASR was in Agra in a hotel near the Taj Mahal & Khushiji was in Delhi, crying!

An idea flashed through Aman’s mind. Agra. Taj Mahal. Love. Romance. He almost rubbed his hands in glee.

“Khushiji, would you like to come over to Agra and meet ASR?” he asked.

Khushi jumped at the chance. “Ji. Ji.”

“I will arrange it with Anjaliji to engage Mohan to drop you here. Please pack for a week.” Aman smiled.

A week? Khushi frowned. But she had better things to worry about than her luggage.

How would Arnavji greet her arrival?

Part 36

Aman greeted Khushi as the car came to a halt in front of the five-star hotel in Agra, situated near the Taj Mahal.

“Khushiji, ASR is having dinner with other delegates. Will you wait in his suite? I have arranged a meal for you there.” Aman smiled.

Khushi gulped. “Ji.”

Aman led her in to the huge hotel. Khushi was too nervous to notice anything around her except the rapid thudding of her poor heart.

Aman opened the door to the suite. The boy placed her luggage in its place. Aman tipped him and led Khushi to the small table laden with delicacies close to a Lucknawi heart.

But Khushi’s appetite and hunger had fled along with her courage.

“Amanji, will A…Arnavji be angry…?” Khushi stammered.

“No. He was complaining of a headache. And he told me ten minutes back that he was returning to Delhi tomorrow morning instead of the day after.” Aman smiled.

“Acha?” Khushi paled. Was he returning to Delhi earlier to make sure that she had left?

“Please have dinner. I will send ASR over as soon as he finishes his meal.” Aman beamed as he left, shutting the door behind him.

Khushi sipped a cup of coffee, which was all she could swallow. She laced her fingers together and shut her eyes, praying that Arnavji wouldn’t be too angry with her. 

She heard movement near the door. Soon the door opened and ASR entered the dimly-lit suite, rubbing the back of his neck.

His eyes fell on the figure sitting in the shadows and he halted his progress in to the room.

The figure stood up and moved towards light. It was Khushi in a peacock green sari. Her hair was in a single plait, and her worried eyes looked at him, almost fearful of his reaction.

“Khushi!” he whispered, sure that she was an apparition and that she would disappear if he spoke too loud and startled her.

She stared at him. Her eyes filled with tears.

“I am sorry, Khushi.” he whispered. “Sorry for hurting you, sorry for trying to make you jealous, sorry for…”

He couldn’t say anything more. Like a tornado, Khushi had launched herself at him. Her arms were around his neck, strangling him in her eagerness.

His arms went around her, unable to believe that she was real…and in his arms.

“ I..I wanted to make you love me…but…” he whispered in her ear and shook his head, angry with himself.

“You don’t have to make me love you.” Khushi whispered, her wet cheek against his.

“Khushi…”

“I have been yours…always….” she sobbed. “I just didn’t know it.”

“Khushi!” His arms tightened around her.

“I am sorry for saying all that bakwaas.” Khushi wept.

“I deserved it for hurting you. I thought you would realise you loved me when you saw me smiling at other girls.” ASR confessed.

“I am sorry for hurting you. I should never, never have said such things. It is just that I felt so alone and so sad….” Khushi said.

“Khushi, I will never hurt you like this. Please don’t leave me and go to Lucknow.” ASR whispered against her wet cheek.

“I will never leave you, Arnavji.” Khushi said.

“Promise?” he wanted to make sure.

“Promise.” Khushi sealed the deal by showering kisses on his face and finally pressing her lips against his.

A few moments later, ASR lifted Khushi in his arms and moved towards the bedroom of the suite. The door was shut.

As his arms were full of Khushi, she leaned forward to open the door.

ASR & Khushi stared at the room.

The floor was decorated with the fragrant petals of red roses. The bed was covered by a fall of red roses. Sweet-smelling candles lit a heart on the floor. A bowl of fruit rested on the low table by the bed.

“Amanji did all this?” Khushi whispered.

“Looks like it.” ASR whispered against her ear.

Khushi slipped down from his hold.

“Arnavji, is this our suhaag raat? Like in the phillums?” Khushi asked ASR seriously.

Arnav hid his smile and said, “Yes.”

“You said you would tell me on our suhaag raat why my heart feels like it is going to burst out of my ribs, why I can’t catch my breath, why I feel butterflies in my stomach when you come close to me.” Khushi reminded him.

“It is because you love me, Khushi.” He ran a finger down her cheek to her swollen lips. She licked her dry lips. ASR’s eyes darkened with burning desire.

Khushi looked at him. “Love makes me feel like I am going to be sick?” she asked.

“Yes. And the wonderful thing is  this, Khushi. I too feel the same sickness when you come close to me.” he confessed, moving as close to her as he could.

Khushi looked at him with brilliant eyes, happy that he was suffering everything that she was going through.

ASR put his hand on her shoulder and slid the pallu of her sari down.

Khushi blushed and turned away, trying to cover herself with her hands.

“Khushi!”

“I am feeling shy.” She moved away, the pallu trailing behind her.

“Oh, that’s a pity. I was thinking of getting rid of my shirt.” ASR said, his voice filled with sorrow. His fingers quickly got rid of his coat, waistcoat, & tie.

Khushi turned around to see him undressing. Her eyes lingered on his shirt-clad figure, lovingly tracing the broad shoulders and the lean muscles of his body.

Unknowingly, her hands fell away.

ASR unbuttoned his shirt.

Khushi stared at him, her eyes on the inches being exposed by each undone button. Her breath came in spurts, and she was lost in his bare glory.

ASR threw his shirt away.

“You are so handsome!” Khushi sighed, almost without knowing that she was paying him a compliment.

He walked closer to her. She stood captivated by the bare chest coming closer and closer to her.

“Would you like to touch me, Khushi?” ASR asked.

Khushi nodded vigorously.

He caught hold of her hand and placed it on his chest. Khushi traced the hot, masculine muscles, lost in the sensation.

ASR slowly pulled the sari away from her body.

“Khushi, turn around.” He said, his voice rusty.

Khushi turned obediently. He brushed aside her hair.

His breath caught at the sight of the doris.

He pulled the first one loose. Khushi shivered in pleasure.

He bent his head to kiss her nape. Khushi whimpered.

His hot lips moved towards her neck and down her shoulders. Khushi almost collapsed on the floor unable to withstand his sensual attack.

His lips worshipped the expanse left unguarded by the loose dori.

“Arnavji!” Khushi moaned.

“Hhmmm?” he murmured against her hot, burning skin.

His fingers mounted attacks on the second and the third doris. Khushi fell back against his chest.

ASR scooped her up in his arms and moved towards the bed.

“Arnavji, hum aapse bahut prem karte hein.” Khushi whispered.

“I love you too, Khushi. More than my life.” ASR whispered before he captured her lips with his and delved deep.

Mnay hours later, the lovers sat in a chair looking out at the moonlight falling on the Taj Mahal.

Khushi was in ASR’s lap, held close against his warm body covered only by a pair of loose pants. Khushi was wearing his white shirt and nothing else. A blanket covered both of them.

“Arnavji, the symbol of love! It is so beautiful!” Khushi whispered through kiss-swollen lips.

ASR kissed her cheek and murmured, “I will build one for you, Khushi.”

“A Taj Mahal?” Khushi asked, her eyes round in shock.

“Hhmmm…” ASR licked the corner of her lips.Khushi trembled in his hold. “Not in marble, Arnavji. It is too cold. And hard. And white. It has no colour.” she complained.

ASR tasted her lips again. “I will make you a Taj Mahal of jalebis, my Jalebi Bai of Lucknow.”

Khushi giggled weakly. “Jhalli Jalebi Mumtaz Mahal Rani and diabetic Shahjahan Shahenshah…ki…amar…prem..kahani….”

ASR lifted her in his arms and proceeded to their bed.

“Arnavji?”

“Hhmm?”

“How is it…?”

“What?”

“How is it that…?”

“Hhmm?”

“How is it that your chumban are so sweet when you are so diabetic?”

“What the!”

The end.

Darlings, will start the next tale by mid January 2014. Hoping to see all of you here then.

Happy New Year!

Smita

EPILOGUE

A month later, the Raizadas descended on Lucknow for the fashion show. The Guptas joined them at their invitation. Sitting in the front row, they watched model after model display bridal lehengas and saris with period accessories.

“Arnav Bitwaa, is this what you wanted Titliyaa to do?” Buaji asked him in awe of his courage.

“Yes, Buaji.” he smiled.

“She would have tripped and fallen straight on to your lap, Nandkisore!” Buaji chuckled.

ASR laughed.

ASR turned to look at Khushi sitting by him. She was wearing the red sari that he had designed for her after getting a glimpse of her in Lucknow.

Her face had a smile on it, her cheeks glowed, and her eyes twinkled, adding lustre to the red & silver of the sari. Her unbound hair fluttered in the breeze, at times touching his coat-clad arm like a caress from a lover.

Khushi felt his eyes on her and turned to look at her dapper husband. He was staring at her, a strange light in his eyes.

“Arnavji, kya hua?” Khushi asked, worried.

“Khushi, I love you.” ASR whispered.

“Humein pata he!” Khushi smirked. “How can I forget? You tell me at least 4 times a day!”

ASR smiled slightly.  He caught hold of her hand and interlinked their fingers. His employees stretched out their necks as far as they would go to catch a glimpse of Aashik Singh Raizada.

A while later, Khushi asked, “Arnavji, did you feel bad…?”

“When?”

“When I said that you must be a tailor? Or the owner of a kapde ka dukaan?”

 ASR smiled and remained silent. Then he said softly, “I was shocked. But that was because I didn’t know you for what you are.”

Khushi frowned.

“And because that is exactly what I am. A tailor and the owner of a kapde ka dukkan.”

Khushi swallowed. “I didn’t know you were rich…” 

He smiled slightly. “I was poor then, but I am rich now.”

Khushi frowned.

“I have you & Mittu now.” ASR drawled.

Khushi giggled. “You are so funny!”

ASR raised his famous eyebrow. Nobody had ever accused him of having a sense of humour before!

“You make me laugh at the most awkward of moments, Arnavji!” Khushi complained. “You trouble me all the time.” They were in their bedroom in Gomti Sadan, the whole family accepting the Guptas’ offer of hospitality rather than staying at Sheesh Mahal, especially as it was the venue of the show.

“Really?” ASR trapped Khushi in his arms, standing behind her.

“Ji, really. What if Hari Prakashji had come in to the kitchen last weekend?” Khushi blushed.

“He would have learned not to do so in the future if he valued his life, limb & job. And I had you well…covered, didn’t I? I made sure that you didn’t giggle & give away our presence, didn’t I?” ASR smiled wickedly against the soft, fragrant skin of her neck. 

Khushi gasped. “Pushing me against the wall, touching me here and there, and giving me chumban! So you were trying to give Hari Prakashji education? And when I was making the rangoli…?” Khushi tried to squirm out of his hold, but his arms tightened around her bare midriff.

“The design was imperfectly done.” ASR declared.

“Acha? So that is why you knocked me down and made me fall on the design? And fell on me? How kind! I didn’t know you had such a big heart!”

ASR bit the lobe of her ear. “I have a big heart, a very big heart….” he claimed, his fingers playing across her navel and upwards.

“And a very big head.” Khushi retorted. “And naughty fingers.” She tried to prise his hands from her waist but was unsuccessful.

“I didn’t hear you complaining about my naughty fingers when I did this last night.” His husky whisper in her ears and the touch of his knowing fingers turned her into mush.

She moaned, groaned and implored. He stole kisses but avoided her lips.

Khushi turned her face to his, offering him free use of her lips, but he seemed deaf, dumb & blind.

“Arnavji!” she whimpered.

“Hhmmm?” he asked, his entire attention on bringing her to her knees.

She turned in his arms and threw herself at him.

“Arnavji…” her eager lips attacked his, her frantic fingers clutched his hair, wanting succour from this fever of need that racked her body, wanting a release that only he could give her. She didn’t even notice the red sari that her tailor husband had made for her slip down her body to lie on the floor like a bright crimson patch.

“Nannav, come fast! Khushiji was talking to me and she fainted.” NK’s frantic voice came across clear through the phone.

The file fell from ASR’s hand. He stood frozen for a moment, and then grabbed his coat & bag and rushed out of his office, telling a stupefied Aman that Khushi was sick.

NK opened the door to a wan ASR.

ASR caught hold of NK’s collar. “What did you tell Khushi to make her faint? How many times have I asked you not to speak Hindi?” ASR shook NK.

An alarmed NK said, “I didn’t do anything, Nannav.” he croaked. “I didn’t say anything. Khushiji was telling me that she wanted to eat ber and then she suddenly fell back in the chair, unconscious.”

“Chotey, let go of NK bhai!” Anjali admonished him, standing at the top of the stairs. “The doctor is with Khushiji. Come up.”

His strong, lithe, long legs made little work of the stairs, Anjali & NK following him, the latter straightening his crushed collar. The rest of his family was standing outside his bedroom.

“Arnav Bitwaa, hamri Khussi faintiyaa gayi.” Mami exclaimed.

Mittu whistled.

Payal tried to stem her tears.

As he reached his bedroom, the door opened and a middle-aged lady doctor emerged.

“Doctor, how is my wife?” Like a gale, ASR almost floored the doctor with his anxiety and terse demand.

“Err…she wants to talk to you. In private.” The doctor kept her word to Khushi.

ASR paled even further. “What is wrong with her?”

“Err…nothing that time won’t cure.” The doctor tried to hide her smile.

ASR frowned and barged in to his bedroom.

Khushi was lying against his pillow, looking weak.

“Khushi? Kya hua? Tum theek to ho?” He rushed to sit by her. He cupped her cheek with a trembling hand.

Khushi smiled weakly at him. “Arnavji…” She tried to sit up. His arm came to support her back. He placed two pillows against the head-board and helped her to sit against them.

“Arnavji…”

“How many times should I tell you to take care of your health, Khushi? Did you have milk in the morning?” ASR demanded.

“No. Arnavji, it smells terrible.” Khushi scrunched up her face.

He clenched his jaw.

“All you eat are jalebis. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Khushi, too many of them are bad for you!” ASR tried to explain.

“You are jealous because you can’t eat them.” Khushi countered, forgetting her weakness for a second.

“Khushi!” ASR exclaimed in affront.

Nani looked at Mami and the others with moist eyes as the doctor left them after imparting the happy news.

“Finally.” she said through a choked throat.

Mami & Anjali nodded, unable to hide their smiles and tears of joy.

Payal smiled.

Nani frowned. “But why are they fighting?”

Mami laughed. “Both of them are ajeeb, Saasumma. Our akhdoo and his jhalli wife. Imagines how their childrens will be, Hello Hi Bye Bye!”

“Yes, Manorama. Your hair will show white through your imported dye!” Nani laughed.

“Khushi, you have to eat healthy. Don’t expect me to leave my office and come running each time you fall sick.” ASR threatened her, worry making his voice hard.

Khushi placed her hands on her hips even though she was sitting in bed.

“Acha? How many times have I fallen sick after I married you?” she asked, her eyes challenging him.

“Err…you haven’t, but….”

“I don’t want to hear your buts.” Khushi announced. “And who asked you to leave your precious work and your office and come running home? Did I?”

“No. NK….”

“Then go and blame him.” She looked at Mittu sitting on the head-rest of the recliner and said, “Mittu Rani, I am doomed.” She raised her hand to her forehead in puri philmy style and said, “Ulta chor kotwal ko daante.”

“What the! Where is the chor?” asked poor ASR.

“Sitting in front of me, scolding me. You. You are the chor. And I am the poor kotwal.” Khushi claimed.

“Khushi, you didn’t fall, did you? I mean, did you hit your head or something?” ASR asked, baffled. He tried to check her head for bumps, but she pushed his hands away.

“Hum pagal nahi he. Haan, I am a little sanki, but not pagal.” Khushi said. Tears filled her eyes. “I wanted to tell you something, but I won’t now.” she declared.

“Khushi!”

She turned her face away, miffed.

“Khushi.” he tried to turn her face towards him by cupping her chin.

She twisted her head away. One slow tear dribbled down her cheek.

The sight of that tear unlocked his tongue. “Khushi, I am sorry. I should not have shouted at you. Khushi, I was worried. That’s why….”

Khushi threw her arms around her husband’s neck. He held her tight against him. She could hear his heart beating very rapidly against hers.

Khushi smiled. 

She cupped his face in her hands.

“Arnavji, I am going to tell you something that will make you very happy.” she smiled.

“NK is returning to Sydney?” ASR asked hopefully.

Khushi frowned. “No! Of course not! Why should he leave his brothers and sisters and go far away?”

ASR sighed silently. He could think of many reasons, but….

“Then?” he asked.

“We are going to have a new guest here, at home, soon.” Khushi blushed, fiddling with his tie.

ASR frowned. “Bubbly is returning?”

“Kaun Bubbly? Kahan ki Bubbly?” Khushi asked, the blush fading.

“Just a friend of Akash’s.” he said. “Must be 8 or 9 years old.”

Khushi frowned. “Jiju is friends with a child? What is wrong with him?”

“I don’t know.” ASR said. “Who is the guest?” Please God, please God, not another brother from Milan or Paris or Sydney. How many sisters did Mami have?

“Our baby.” Khushi blushed again.

“What the!” ASR exclaimed. He stared at Khushi’s face, sure that he had misheard her. But the vanishing blush and the growing ire on her face confirmed that he had heard right.

“Our baby?” he asked slowly.

“Ji. If it were someone else’s then I need not have told you.” Khushi glared at him.

“No..no..I didn’t mean that, Khushi. I was just checking that I had heard right….” ASR rushed to explain.

“Your ears don’t work too? Mittu Rani, Di’s papad ka dukhda has many technical kharabis.” Khushi glared at ASR.

Mittu tried to help ASR.

Sola singar karke, godh bharayee le

 Saiyyan, saiyyan, saiyyan, saiyyan...

 Saiyyan se khelee bahut, abb chhotu ko khilayee le...

“Khushi, you are…I am…” ASR struggled.

Khushi nodded patiently.

“Our baby?”

“Ji, our baby.” Khushi said.

ASR looked at her stomach as though he had x-ray vision and could see his son or daughter growing in her womb. His eyes grew moist and slightly red.

Khushi swallowed. To get him away from pondering over his tragic past, Khushi said, “Arnavji, I am waiting!”

He looked at her.

Khushi pouted. “Will you spend all day looking at my stomach or will you hug me and give me chumban?”

ASR smiled at her. “As many hugs as you want and all the chumban in the world.” he promised her rashly.

“Then you will never be able to go to office again…” Khushi giggled, safe in his arms. She tilted her head up to receive his lips.

“Khushi…”

“Ji?”

“Khushi…I am so happy….”

“I know.”

“Khushi… I never thought…I thought I would be alone….”

“But that was before you met me.” Khushi replied in all confidence. “Now you will never be alone, Arnavji. Not even if you want to be. This kotwal has jailed this chor of my dil.”

ASR handed over his bag & coat to HP and almost ran up the steps to his room. He could hear music and laughter coming from there.

The TV was on.

Khushi and their daughter, Gauri were dancing on the bed in time to the music blaring from the TV. Mittu was watching the fun.

Gauri saw her father first.

“Da..da..da..da..” she mouthed, flailing her arms wildly to get to him.

Khushi turned her head to see him at the door.

“Arnavji!” Her face lit up.

ASR walked closer to the bed and lifted Gauri in his arms. She strangled him just like her mother and rained kisses all over his face. And as she did every time he picked her up, she pulled his nose.

“Da…da…da…da…” she chanted.

ASR returned every one of her sweet kisses. As soon as he finished, Khushi rushed in to his arms. “Now it is my turn.” she declared.

Smiling, delirious with joy, ASR kissed her all over her face and then her lips.

Gauri chuckled to see her father kissing her mother, held safe and close to her parents by their four arms around her.

Mittu, as usual, had the last word. She sang,

 

Jumma chumma de de, jumma chumma de de chumma....