97. Loving Khushi: Part 11: Day 3: Section A

Part 11: Day 3: Section A

Arnav, who was supposed to be working on his laptop, stole glances at Khushi. She was drying her long hair with a  towel, rubbing the wet strands. She threw the weight of her wet hair over her shoulder, and Arnav felt a couple of drops of water fall on his face. He looked at her, bewitched by her beauty.

The phone rang. 

Khushi picked up her phone and answered the call.

Arnav watched her face pale, and heard her stammer ‘Ji’ and ‘shukriya’ at regular intervals. A sense of foreboding sent a shiver down his spine.

She cut the call.

Arnav asked, “Kya hua, Khushi?”

“Woh…woh… I had applied for a few jobs…” Khushi muttered.

Arnav paled.

“I wanted to work after the 15^th. So I applied early.” Khushi explained.

Arnav swallowed hard, and nodded. With great difficulty.

“One of them called to say that…that the job is mine.” Khushi said, looking away from his face.

Arnav opened his mouth to speak, and shut it without speaking. He didn’t know what to say.

Khushi looked at his books arranged neatly in the small rack built in to the wall.

Finally, Khushi said, “It is a school. With children…”

“You…you are going to work in a school?” Arnav asked.

“Ji…” Khushi whispered.

“Oh… Err… Khushi, what will you teach there? I mean…” He didn’t want to ask her how she could teach students when her own educational qualifications were almost non-existent.

Khushi smiled wryly, “I am not going to teach anyone, Arnavji. It is a boarding school. For girls. I am going to cook in their kitchen for them.”

He stared at her, his mouth open, his eyes wide. Finally he said, “Khushi, if you want to work…Khushi, you can always work in my office…” he offered, desperate.

“No, thank you. I had enough the last time.” Khushi smiled. But her smile did not take away the sting of her words.

Arnav frowned. Which Delhi school was she going to work in? It was highly possible that he knew the owners or the trustees…or they knew of him. Maybe he could smooth her way for her if she was determined to take up the job.

“Which school is it, Khushi?” he asked.

“Mangaldas Memorial School.” she replied.

Arnav frowned. He had never heard the name before. Was there such a school in Delhi, or was someone making a fool of Khushi?

“Khushi, I have never even heard the name before. Are you sure…?” he asked doubtfully.

“Ji. It is run by Girija Deviji.” Khushi explained.

Arnav frowned. Who the hell was she? And why the hell did she have to start a school and take his wife away from him?

“Khushi, give me the address. I will get Aman to check it out.” Arnav looked expectantly at Khushi, a pen held over his note pad.

“Ji.” Khushi agreed. It was better to agree with him than to explain to him that the school was well-known in her circle, that Girija Deviji was a figure to be reckoned with in the field of women’s education.

“Mangaldas Memorial School, Shahid Bhagat Singh Road, Shivdaspur, Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh, India.” Khushi said in one breath.

The pen fell to the ground, sounding like a bomb going off in the perfect silence. He stared at her, seeing all his hopes crumble in to dust.

Finally, he said, “Varanasi…Benares…”

“Ji.”

“You are going to Varanasi…” Arnav could not believe his ears.

“Ji.” Khushi admitted. She explained, “I can’t stay forever in Buaji’s house, Arnavji. People will start asking Amma & Buaji why I am not staying with my husband.”

Arnav stared at her.

“Our relations from Lucknow had come for Jiji’s marriage. They saw our wedding too…” her voice faltered.

Arnav felt a hand close around his heart.

“If I go to Lucknow, they will ask me where my husband is. They will call Buaji and ask why I am working in Lucknow when my husband is in Delhi…” Khushi looked away. “I have given my family a lot of trouble, Arnavji. I don’t want to trouble them anymore. So it is better I go to Varanasi. We don’t have any relations there.”

What had he done to her? Arnav asked himself. He had thoughtlessly destroyed everything she held dear, her family, her peace, her security, her future… he had made it impossible for her to live with dignity. He had taken away her options. He had tied her hands…

“I wanted a job that would give me  a safe place to stay. And a reasonable salary so that I can send some money home.” Khushi continued, trying very hard to make her voice cheerful and care-free. “That is why applied at this boarding school. It is safe, and the candidate hired to help the main cook has to stay on the campus. Food & accommodation are free.” She smiled.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“I have no previous experience at such a job, but Girija Deviji considered my application because she has heard of Babuji and our Satwik Mishtan Bhandar. Hamare Babuji is well-known in Lucknow and nearby areas for his honesty and the high quality of sweets he used to sell.”

He stared at her.

Khushi smiled. “Girija Deviji wants me to start on the 16th. I will go to Buaji's house from here on 15^th morning, and then go to Varanasi.”

Arnav stared at her, his eyes aching with unshed tears.

Khushi tried very hard to keep the smile on her face from dimming.

“Khushi, you will leave me and go to Varanasi?” he finally asked, his voice a mere whisper.

Smita,

Here is the interpretation to Section A of Part 11.
This update is effect, an unintended unwelcome consequence occurring sometime after the action, REPURCUSSION.
As Khushi was drying her wet hair, Arnav who was supposed to be working on his laptop, was indulging in quick glances at Khushi. As she swung her wet hair over her shoulders, it fell on her in a wave causing a couple of water drops to fall on Arnav's face. He looked at her, bewitched by her beauty. As he was engrossed in the beauteous scene in front of him, of the fair maiden who was his wife, looking as fresh as dew, he was brought down to earth by the shrill ring of the phone. Arnav, watching Khushi answer the call, felt her face go pale and utter, yes and thank you at regular intervals. A sense of foreboding ran through him, sending a shiver down his spine. Once she finished her call, Arnav asked, what happened Khushi, only to hear her mutter, that, and continue after a pause as though gaining confidence to say, that she had applied for a few jobs and stop at that. Arnav recoiled to hear it and his face lost its colour as he heard her explain that she wanted to work after the 15^th. So, she had sent in an application early. Arnav could not reply as it was fallout of his own doing. He felt as though a stone was stuck in his throat. Khushi looking away from his face told that one of them had called to say that the job was hers. Arnav wanted to tell her something but just did not know what to say. The contract that he had made her sign and his promise to her to let her go after the marriage was ricocheting.
Khushi looking at his books placed in the built-in shelf, finally told him that the place where she got a call was from a school with children... and tailed off. As Arnav asked, whether she was going to work in a school, Khushi whispered, yes. He asked Khushi haltingly, what she would teach there, knowing well her educational qualifications were insufficient for her to take up a teaching post. Giving him a dry smile, she told him that she was not going to teach anyone. It was a girls' boarding school and she was going to cook in their kitchen for them. Arnav was dumbstruck to hear it. He was stunned beyond words and finally, in a desperate bid he offered her a job saying, if she wants to work, she could always work in his office. Khushi with a sweet smile rejected it saying that she had enough of it the last time. But her smile did not take away the sting of her words. His behavior when she worked, his antagonism towards her then, the way his subordinates treated her then all bounced back at him.
Arnav frowned wondering, which Delhi school was she going to work in? In all probability he might know the owners or the trustees, or they knew of him. Maybe he could smooth the way for her if she was determined to take up the job. Thinking so he asked her as to, which school it was. When she said that, it was Mangaldas Memorial School, he frowned thinking that he had never heard of it and was there really such a school in Delhi, or was Khushi being taken for a ride? When he doubtfully voiced out that, he had never even heard the name of such a school and was she sure? She answered that, she was sure and it was run by Girija Deviji. Arnav wondered who that lady was. Why on earth did she start a school and make his wife go away from him? Arnav, getting ready to jot down the address on his note pad asked her, to give him the address so that he could get it checked by Aman. Khushi agreed, thinking that it was better that he got the feedback that way than to explain the fact that, the school was a well reputed one and known in her circle and Girija Deviji was a person of good standing in the society and was known for her work in the field of women's education. So, thinking she gave him the address in one breath as, Mangaldas Memorial School, Shahid Bhagat Singh Road, Shivdaspur, Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh, India.
Hearing the address, the pen he was holding fell to the ground. It echoed as though it was a missile that exploded in the silence of the room. He stared at her, feeling all his hopes go down the drain. The spin-off of not listening to his heart but thinking that his mind was correct was Khushi getting distant and distant like a bright comet going away from the sun. The sequel of the first marriage, the contract marriage, was not at all to his liking. Finally, when he managed to utter, Varanasi...  Benares... that was reverberating in his mind and she affirmed, he repeated unable to believe his ears that she was going to Varnasi. She re-affirmed it and explained the side-effects of their contract wedding. She could not stay forever in Buaji's house. People would start asking her Amma and Buaji, why she was not staying with her husband. Arnav was silent staring at her while his mind went reeling. She told him that their relatives from Lucknow had attended Jiji's marriage and they knew she too had got married... Her voice faltered saying so. Arnav felt as though his heart was being squeezed tightly. She told him that, if she goes to Lucknow, all will enquire where her husband was and they will call Buaji and ask why she was working at Lucknow while her husband was in Delhi. She could not become the cause for friction and shame for her family. Unable to show him her pain she looked away. She told him that, not wanting to trouble her family any more, she had decided to go to Varnasi, an unknown place, as they had no relatives there. The outcome of his anger would be, she and her family becoming the laughing stock and their hard earned respect would be in shreds. This she wanted to avoid and that was reason enough for her to take up the job at Varnasi.
Arnav listening to her was filled with bitter remorse. He asked himself as to what had he done to her! He had thoughtlessly destroyed everything she held dear, her family, her peace, her security, her future... The backlash of his actions was that he had left her no options and made it impossible to live with dignity. If she had to live, it was to live away from her loved ones. Only then she would be able to make a niche of her own. His own actions were now in direct collision with his needs and necessity. No amount of self-recrimination was of any use. Though he was wallowing in the valley of despair and contrition, her words cut through the mist he was covered in. Khushi, trying to keep up a cheerful and a care-free voice told him, that she had wanted a job that could give her a safe place to stay, a reasonable salary, so that she could send some money to her family. That was the reason she had applied to this post at that boarding school. It was safe and the candidate hired as a helper for the main cook had to stay in the premises was the requirement. The job entailed free boarding and lodging. Arnav could not move his eyes away from her face, for when he and her family would be under the safety of a roof over their heads and having a meal, she had to break her back over a stove. Khushi, his wife, the wife of the business tycoon was going to do a job with a salary that amounted to tuppence when compared to his wealth! All his words and digs at her as a gold-digger  boomeranged on him. She continued to say that, even after having no previous experience at such a job, Girijaji had deemed it fit to give her the post as the esteemed lady had heard of her Babuji and their Satwik Mishtan Bhandar, for he was well-known in Lucknow and its surroundings for his honesty and the high quality of sweets he used to sell. Her simple statement that the clout of the simple man, her Babuji was standing in good stead by her, was making him feel ashamed for talking about aukaat, standing in the society,
Hearing her words, Arnav could only stare at her helplessly. Khushi smiled and said that Girija Devi wanted her to commence her job on the 16^th. So on 15^th morning she would go to Buaji's house and from there to Varanasi. Arnav stared at her, feeling kicked by his own stupid actions, his eyes stung with unshed tears. Though Khushi successfully kept on her smile, it was with a yeoman's effort. It was just her sense of perverseness that kept her smiling even when her heart was bleeding inside. Unable to keep silent anymore, Arnav filled with anguish, penitence, regret, guilt, self-reproach, in a low voice that was a mere whisper asked her, will she leave him and go? The very thing that he had feared was coming true. Fearing the very reason, he had married her in the first place was coming true. When he had opted for the contract marriage he had two options before him. He could keep her with him or could send Khushi away to an unknown place, away from Shyam and secure his Di's future. But even at that time he was not ready to part from her, lose her. He was also not ready to forgive her for his perceived wrong doing on her part. In the fear of losing her he had bound her to him with the contract. Now, when he was legally married, he was going to lose her. She was moving away from him. That was the irony and his deeds were backfiring on him. Now it is swimming upstream for Arnav Singh Raizada
That is why this update, where Arnav Singh Raizada, being made to recoil at the impact of his deeds is titled REPURCUSSION.
"We are free to choose our paths, but we can't choose the       consequences that come with them"
                                         ~ Sean Covey,                                                                 The 7 Habits Of Highly Effective Teens
That's it from me. Hope you enjoy it.

 Part 11: Day 3: Section B

Khushi rushed to Arnav and sank to the floor at his feet. She caught hold of his hand and pressed his fingers in hers.

“Arnavji, please don’t think that hum naraz hoke jaa rehe hein.” she pleaded.

He looked down in to her honest eyes.

Khushi tried to explain, pausing many times to collect her thoughts.

“Arnavji!” she started. “The past one and a half years… I don’t know what has been happening in my life.” She clutched her head in her hands. “The last thing I remember doing, the last decision I took in my life was to wear the hanging pearl jhumkas with the green lehenga for Jiji’s marriage.” She looked at him, helpless. “Arnavji, after that my life went out of my hands. I lost control over everything. It was like I had got on to a roller coaster. My life just went out of my control.”

She leaned her head against his knee.

“The ladies were dancing, Buaji was singing, Jiji was getting dressed in her room. I was helping her…” Khushi smiled. The smile slowly faded. “Then we heard Babuji & Amma talking. The new demand for more dowry… Babuji’s decision to pawn our Satwik Mishtan Bhandar… Amma’s anxiety…Jiji’s tears…”

Arnav placed his hand on her head, comforting her.

“I panicked, but I couldn’t show my fear to Jiji. What would she do if her Khushi became upset? Khushi can’t be upset. Khushi has to smile. Khushi can never be upset. She has to find a way out, always.” Tears filled Khushi’s eyes. Arnav blinked to control his tears.

Her arms went around his leg, hugging it close to her heart.

“So I took the milk scooter and rode to Sheesh Mahal to make everything right for Jiji. Even though I can’t ride that scooter well. Even though I had no idea what I was going to do once I saw the groom…Some body pushed me on to that stage…” Khushi looked up in to his face.

“And then I met you. Arnavji, that moment, somebody turned a switch. The speed at which I was hurtling to my doom increased. I was so scared…” A tear slipped down her cheek. Arnav wiped it away with the pad of his finger.

“From that moment to this moment, Arnavji, I have had no control over my life. So many things kept happening, one after the other… Before I could deal with one problem, hundreds of problems came at me from all directions till I didn’t know if I was standing on my head or my feet.”

Arnav nodded. And his chameleon-like behaviour had added to her confusion, her panic, her problems...

“Aap ko pata he, there is no place to think. Or cry.” she confessed.

Arnav frowned.

“In Buaji’s house, if I shut the door and sit in my bedroom for a moment, Buaji, Amma, or Jiji will knock on the door. I can’t think. I can’t even cry in private. On Diwali night, when I wanted to die, I locked the room to cry. I had just started crying when Buaji called me and I had to get engaged to Shyam.” she was obviously agitated.

Arnav patted her head, swallowing hard.

“I went to the bathroom and shut the door so that I could think about where I was and what I was doing, where my life was going… But Buaji knocked on the door.” She looked in to Arnav’s eyes.

“Even in your house, even though it is as big as a football field, there is no place to cry or think, except the bathroom. Or maybe I should empty a cupboard and sit inside it. If I go to the terrace, Hari Prakashji will come to dry clothes. If I sit in the bedroom, some one or the other will call me. The poolside, the living room, the kitchen… there is no space to think.”

Arnav nodded. The word ‘privacy’ did not exist in the dictionary of the Raizadas. He himself had often felt like a specimen in a bottle.

“I am so tired, Arnavji. Tired of smiling and pretending to be happy. Tired of trying so hard to be everything to everybody. Tired of disappointing everybody. Tired of making everyone cry. Just tired. I want to go away, Arnavji. Far away. Where nobody knows Khushi, Khushi Kumari Gupta, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada, or Khushi Arnav Singh Raizada’s past.”

Khushi looked earnestly in to Arnav’s eyes. “I don’t want to stay here anymore, Arnavji. I am so tired of feeling like a third wheel, an outsider, a burden. When Amma & Babuji adopted me, Babuji’s mother was very angry. I grew up listening to her grumble about me, curse me, scold me for everything under the sun. It has been 14 years, Arnavji. Even now, I don’t feel I belong. Not in Laxmi Nagar. Not in your house. I am tired of trying to make  a space for myself. I am tired of standing outside and looking inside at other people being happy. I am so fed up, Arnavji. So fed up.”

Arnav shut his eyes in pain.

“I have to go away. I have to find a place I belong in. I want to start fresh, Arnavji. I want to think. Cry, if I feel like it. Smile, if I want to. I want to find out who this Khushi is. Who she is without her Jiji, Amma, Babuji, Buaji, you, and the family here.”

Arnav cupped her cheek.

“I am 22 years old, Arnavji. And other than the fact that I like aloo and puri and love my family, I know very little about myself. I am scared, Arnavji. Scared that one day I will just dissolve into vapour and merge in to the wind, and even I won’t know where I am, what I am.”

Arnav wiped her face dry.

“Arnavji, let me go to Varanasi. Please.” Khushi pleaded.

Arnav nodded. “You must go to Varanasi if you want to. But Khushi, where ever you go, you will carry me in your heart.” he murmured.

Khushi looked at him. “Arnavji, had we not met as we did, had we not gone through the hell we did, together, do you think we would…we would…?” she paused.

“Love each other so much?” Arnav completed her question. “I think, yes. But don’t take my word for it, Khushi. You should give yourself a chance to find out.” Arnav smiled.

Khushi looked at him in surprise.

“You should go to Varanasi if you want to, Khushi. It is a boarding school for girls, isn’t it? So you will be safe on the campus. You should take up this job.”

Khushi stared at him, unable to believe her ears.

“But let me take you there, settle you in. Then I will return. I will explain everything to our families. We can keep in touch over the phone.” Arnav smiled, patting her cheek.

Khushi looked at him, her eyes wide.

“I love you, Khushi. And I know how much you love me. I know you will realise it too, and come back to me. I am ready to wait.” Arnav whispered against her cheek, his lips savouring the softness.

“If I don’t come back?” Khushi whispered.

“I will build a cottage near your window and spend my life looking at you from afar.” Arnav said, a small smile on his face.

Khushi punched him in the stomach. “Aap Arnav Singh Raizada he, not a weak Devdas. Remember that!” she admonished him.

He burst out laughing. She joined him.



Smita,
Here is the interpretation to Section B of Part 11.
This update is about reasons, reasons that had not been taken into consideration but there being strong evidence than the previously accepted one, A FORTIORI.
Unable to keep silent anymore, Arnav filled with anguish, penitence, regret, guilt, self-reproach, in a low voice that was a mere whisper asked her, will she leave him and go? Hearing the pain in his voice and grief in his words, Khushi rushed to him and sank to the floor by his side. She caught hold of his hand and pressed his fingers in hers showing that for a certainty she does value him and his being with her. She pleaded with him, asking him not to think that she is moving away from him in anger. As he looked down into her honest eyes she tried to explain, pausing many times to collect her thoughts. She began giving her reasons saying, in the past one and a half years primarily, she does not even know what was happening in her life. Clutching her head with both the hands, she said, it had been caught up in an unstoppable juggernaut. The last thing she remembers as taking her own decision in her life was, to wear the pearl jhumkas with the green lehenga for her Jiji's marriage. Feeling helpless, she looked at him and said, after that her life went out of her hands. She lost control over everything. It was like she had got on to a roller coaster and it was a rough ride. Her life just went out of her control and she was steam rolled into doing things that she certainly had never even dreamed off.
Leaning her head against his knee, she smiled and said above all she remembers, ladies' dancing with zest, Buaji singing in full throttle, while her Jiji was getting dressed and she helping her. The smile slowly faded when she recollected what happened next. Then, they heard her Amma and Babuji talking about the new demand for more dowry, consequently Babuji's decision to pawn their Satwik Mishtan Bhandar, leading to Amma's anxiety, Jiji's tears... Tears choked her throat as she recalled the events that changed the course of her life. Arnav feeling her panic and helplessness placed his hand on her head, in an attempt to comfort her. She told him that hearing their talk she had panicked; it was like the sky falling on her head. But it was paramount not show it to her Jiji. What would Jiji do if her Khushi became upset when Khushi was her strength, her pillar to lean on, one person she could depend on? So Khushi particularly, could not afford to be seen upset. Khushi had to put on a smile always and find a solution to all the problems. So, like always, she had to find a way that time too. As tears pooled in her eyes, Arnav tried hard to blink back his own. Her arms wrapped round his legs, hugging it close to her heart as though it was her tower of strength.
Accordingly, she did the only thing that she could think off and taking the milk scooter, rode to Sheesh Mahal to set things right for her Jiji, even though she could not ride that scooter well, even though she was not aware of what she was going to tell when she met the groom. But like everything else on that day things turned out differently! Someone pushed her on to the stage...  Khushi paused and looked at his face and told him that, then, she met him. And that was the moment that her life that was comparatively calm and placid was kicked awaken and began hurtling forward at a tremendous unthinkable speed down the steep hill. It was like being thrown into her doom with the speed ever increasing. It had scared her. As she recalled, a tear slipped down her cheeks, only to be wiped by Arnav with the pad of his finger. She told him, from that moment to this moment, she had no control over her life. So many things kept happening, one after the other that she was steamrolled and flattened by the weight of it ... Before she could deal with one problem, hundreds of problems poured on her from all directions till it mired her in it so much, that she could not make out whether she stood up or upside down, in main, she was at a loss not knowing what was happening at such breakneck speed. Arnav understood what she meant and nodded while thinking that, his blow hot blow cold behavior had not helped but had all the more increased her confusion, her panic, her problems... With his often change in ideas and behavior that were quick and frequent, she must have got one hell of a vibe, more than ever uncertain about what it really meant.
She confessed that, even if she wanted to she does not have a place to think or cry. Arnav unable to comprehend what she meant, frowned. Khushi told him that in Buaji's house, if she shuts the door and sit on her bedroom for a moment, Buaji, Amma, or Jiji would knock on the door. She did not have the luxury to be able to think quietly, or even shed tears in private. On Diwali night, when she had felt low and wanted the earth to open up and swallow her in, she had locked her room to cry. When the tears had just started to roll in, Buaji had hollered out and chastised. She had to give in and got engaged to Shyam. As she told him, he could infer the state of her mind, a mass of turbulence, clearly agitated. Arnav comforted her by patting her head, softly and silently, but he himself felt extremely unsettled realizing that she was being compelled by a stronger reason than what he had presumed. She looked into his eyes and told him that, she had been to the bathroom, to think in peace as to where she stood in her life, where she was, what was she doing, where her life was going. But before she could even evaluate herself, Buaji's knock had come about. Even in his house, though it is a huge mansion, it lacked privacy. There was not a nook or cranny where she could cry to her heart's content, except, the bathroom or maybe the cupboard, if she dumped out the things inside. Even the terrace, was always pervaded by someone or the other. If any member of the family was not there it would be Hari Prakashji hanging clothes to dry. If she sat in the bedroom, some one or the other would call her. The poolside, the living room, the kitchen all lack privacy, without giving her a moment of peace or quietness enough to contemplate... By inference, there is no space to think. Arnav nodded as he understood her dilemma. The word 'privacy' did not exist in the dictionary of the Raizadas'. He himself had that experience and had often felt like a specimen in a bottle. She told him her heartfelt feeling that she was tired, too tired to think of anything. She was tired of smiling, tired of pretending to be happy, tired of trying so hard to be everything to everybody, tired of living up to everybody's expectations, tired of disappointing everybody, tired of making everyone cry. Just plain tired, that was what she was. Thus, she wanted to go away, far away, where nobody knows Khushi, Khushi Kumari Gupta, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada, or Khushi Arnav Singh Raizada's past. She wanted to go incognito, without any baggage, without any interference, without being held with emotional blackmail. She especially wanted just space, space to connect with her.
Khushi looking with earnest eyes into Arnav's eyes and said from the depths of her heart with profound despair, that she does not want to stay there anymore. She was tired of feeling like a third wheel, an outsider, and a burden. When Amma and Babuji adopted her, Babuji's mother was very angry and resented her presence amidst them. She grew up listening to her grumble about her, throwing curses at her, scolding her for everything under the sun. Every wrong thing was heaped on her head as her fault.  It had been 14 years, and even now, she does not feel a sense of belonging neither in Laxmi Nagar nor in his house. For a certainty, she was tired of trying to make a space for herself. She was tired of standing outside and looking inside at other people being happy. She was tired of feeling detached at her unhappy circumstances. Over and above, she was fed up of stoic acceptances. Her words brought in a fresh bout of pain making him shut his eyes.
She told him that, she has to go away to enable herself, to find her own place where she belongs to. Still more, she wants to get in touch with herself, where she is and what she is, where she wants to be and what she wants to be. She wants to start afresh. She wants to think, cry, smile at will without having to use a mask to hide herself and have the face of a Smiling Buddha. Mainly, she wanted to know who the real Khushi was. What was she without her Jiji, Amma, Babuji, Buaji, him, and the family there? As Arnav moved by her words cupped her face, she told him that, she was twenty two years old, and other than the fact that she likes aloo and puri and loves her family, she knows very little about herself. She was scared. Scared that one day she would just dissolve into vapour and merge in to the wind, and even she would not know where she was and what she was. She needed to find her identity. She needed to be in peace with herself. She needed to find solace by herself. For she knew her inner strength was the only thing that could give her the required solution and that was the only thing that would stand by her. She also knew, that would help her to see her future path correctly. So, in order to have a future she needed to seek it. That, she could not do amidst all the clutter and people, as her thoughts were always crowded by them. It was like seeking to meditate in the Victoria Terminus. That was, all the more reason for her to go away.
While Arnav wiped her face dry of the tears that she had shed, she looked into his caramel eyes that had darkened, understanding the storm of pain and insecurity within her, she beseeched to let her go to Varnasi. Arnav nodded and agreed with her, that if she felt so, then she should go to Varnasi. In a soft and low voice he murmured, for a certainty, wherever she went she would have carried him in her heart, making Khushi look at him. She asked him, had they not met, had they not gone through the inferno together, does he think they would... they would...? and stopped short. Arnav completed her question saying, love each other so much? With a smile he stressed that, he thinks that for a still stronger reason, they still would have, but it was not essential for her to take his word for it. She has to take the chance to find out. As Khushi gave him a surprised look at hearing his words agreeing with her, he continued, that she should take up that job at Varnasi if she wants to and as it was a boarding school for girls, she would be safe in the school premises. Khushi was stumped by his answer, and he left her all the more wide eyed, when patting her cheek he asked her, to let him take her there and settle her in and then, he would explain everything to their families. They could keep in touch over the phone. Gathering her in his arms, taking in her sweet intoxicating perfume, lips savouring the softness, he whispered against her cheek, that he loves her and he knows that she loves him. He knows, that she would realize it too and come back to him. For that, he was ready to wait. When Khushi whispered back, what if she does not come back? Arnav with a small smile tugging his lips told her, then he would build a cottage near her window and spend his life looking at the piece of moon by that window, and try to quench his thirst from afar. Khushi nudging him in the stomach, mock censured by asking him to remember, that he is Arnav Singh Raizada, not a weakling like Devdas, making Arnav crack up and his mirth made her join him. What Arnav meant was by even greater force of logic and all the more so because of it  with 'me-time', she would be able to find by herself, who she was and where she stood in her life. It would be as his other half, the better half and she stood incomplete without him as he would be. For, they were bound together for their lifetime and by marriage she was his ardhangini. But that, the meaning of the vows she took with him, she had to find it out by herself. Only then would she be able to satisfy both her heart as well as her mind and come to him.
That is why this is titled A FORTIORI, from a yet stronger reason.
"Someday everything will make perfect sense, so for  now,  laugh at the confusion, smile through the tears  and keep  reminding yourself that everything happens  for a  reason"                            
                                       ~ John Mayer.
That's it from me. Hope you enjoy it.

Part 12: Day 2

“Khushi, you will need clothes to wear in Varanasi.” Arnav declared.

Khushi looked at him and turned to look at her share of the wardrobe, filled with her colourful suits and sarees.

She frowned.

“It may be hot there…or cold. Come on, Khushi…” Arnav led her out of the house to raid the shops.

“Khushi, do you want that cream suit?”

“To wear in a sooty kitchen?” Khushi smiled.

Arnav had to smile in return, but he did not let go. “What about that violet saree?”

“I am going to help the cook to slave over a hot stove, not walk the ramp at a fashion show.” Khushi smiled.

“The red saree with beads…”

“Arnavji, the children won’t be impressed by your designer clothes. They will be more worried about the aloo, roti, poori etc I make, if there is enough salt in the sabzi, if the jalebis are sweet…” she laughed.

Arnav sighed, a small smile on his lips.

But still she found her arms filled with gifts, and HP had to call two more helpers to carry the packages to their room.

Mami, Nani, Payal, NK, Akash, & Anjali watched the proceedings with amused eyes.

“Yehi he hamre Arnav Bitwaa!” Mami was moved in to exclaiming. “Pehle gaali devat he, phir gifat!”

“Hey, Nannav, did you shop till you drop?” NK teased him.

“Chotey, have you decided to buy one year’s clothes in one go?” Anjali teased him.

“Di, I have work to do… a video conference…” Arnav rushed up the stairs.

All laughed at the besotted lover Arnav had become.

 Smita,

Here is the interpretation to Part 12.

This update is about assembling things, a part of putting together things, in a word CONFECTION.
Once it was decided that Khushi would go to Varanasi, Arnav was all set to make her stay over there as much comfortable as possible in any and every way he could. He declared, that she would need clothes, making Khushi turn towards her side of the wardrobe and note it was filled with colourful sets of salwars and chudidhars along with a variety of sarees. Telling her not knowing how the weather would be, hot or cold, to be prepared for every weather, to tack together a set of clothes, he led her out to another shopping spree. Once in the clothing outlet, he was all set to buy her a wide range of clothes ready to create an extensive wardrobe. He asked her, whether she needed a particular beautiful cream suit set? Khushi was tickled to hear it, but giving out just a slight smile she asked him, was it to wear in a sooty kitchen? Arnav had to smile but still persisted and asked her, what about the violet saree? Khushi again smiled and told him, that she was going to help the cook, to slave over a hot stove and not going to hit the catwalk. Arnav was not the one to give up. He was not going to let go of the pleasure of buying clothes for his wife. He tempted her with a red saree with crystal beads. But Khushi being Khushi, with a hearty laugh, was forthright in saying that, the children won't be impressed by his designer wear. Their mind would be on her culinary skills. They would be more interested in the aloo, roti, poori and such things that she makes, if there is enough salt in the sabzi, if the jalebis are sweet...Arnav sighed, at finding a girl who was refusing to shop for herself even when the husband was ready to indulge, it was a rarity but his wife was one such rare flower.  Though he sighed he had a small smile on his lips at her forthright remarks. At the end of the binge, she found her arms filled with gifts, and HP had to call two more helpers to carry the packages to their room.
Mami, Nani, Payal, NK, Akash and Anjali had watched silently, packets after packets being taken into their room with amused eyes but Mami could not keep quiet for long. She exclaimed, is this our Arnav Bitwa! First, he had given her a super abundance of shouting and now its plethora of gifts! She was amazed to see her Bitwa had been shopping! This was an amazing change created by marriage in her Bitwaa! NK too like his Masi, teased Arnav asking his Nannav, did you shop till you drop? Anjali not to be left behind chirped in, had Chotey decided to buy a year's clothing at one go? He, who had always loathed shopping and preferred to do online, now with his wife in toe, had showed utmost interest to go from shop to shop looking at the number of carry bags that had been taken into his room. He seemed to have assembled a good wardrobe. All they received in reply from Arnav was, he had work to do, a video conference, before scooting up the stairs. Gales of laughter followed the besotted lover, Arnav.
Though at the outset it looked like he was fitting Khushi with good clothes, it was also a way of spending time with her alone without getting amorous and cluttering her mind. It was his way of telling her that she was his responsibility even if she thought otherwise. It was also his way of making the most of their time together. He had created the need for shopping knowing very well that she had sufficient clothes and they were quite adequate for the type of work she was to do. Slogging in front of the stove never called for designer clothes. He mingled things and made sure that both of them had a constructive and pleasant day, for their joys was still confected with some fears.
That is why this update is titled CONFECT 
"Don't wait for opportunities to come to you, create your  own"
                             ~ Heather Romiti,                                              Health Wellness Coach Motivational Speaker
That's it from me. Hope you enjoy it. 

Part 13: Day 1

“Khushi, come with me.” Arnav ordered.

“Kahan?” she was moved in to asking.

“Come.”

He dragged her to his bank. Soon she had a bank account in her new name, a huge amount deposited in her savings account, fixed deposits in her name, ATM card, the works…

She tried to protest. “Arnavji…”

“Arnavji, yeh kya…”

“Aap ye kya kar rahe he…?”

“Arnavji…”

But he was determined to keep her safe, never to leave her helpless… Even if she was far away from him, she would be under his protection.

That evening, Khushi packed her bags. Arnav sat watching her fold her clothes and put them in her new suitcase he had purchased for her. His heart wept, but he took care not to reveal his pain to her.

“Arnavji…” she frowned at the clothes hanging in his wardrobe. “I can’t take everything. Should I pack everything and leave the rest at Buaji’s?”

“No, Khushi. Take what you need in Varanasi. Let the rest remain here. You will need them when you return.” He was definite on the point.

Khushi looked at him. “Arnavji…”

He looked at her, a challenge in his eyes. Seeing the confusion and pain in her eyes, he calmed down. He said, “If you ever decide not to return to me, I will pack everything and leave them at Buaji’s.”

She looked in to his eyes for a moment and nodded, not wanting to labour the point.

“Arnavji…tomorrow, when we go…what will Naniji, Mamiji, & Di think?” Her fear of hurting his family was real.

Arnav smiled. “I told them that I am taking you on an overnight trip.”

“They agreed?” Khushi was shocked.

Arnav smiled. “You are my wife. I can take you anywhere.” He flicked her cheek with his fingers, making the innocent words sound naughty.

Khushi swallowed.

“Now let’s go to Laxmi Nagar, and explain to Amma, Babuji, & Buaji that we are going to be out of Delhi for two days.” Arnav suggested.

Khushi nodded, her lips trembling.

They spent their last night lying in each other’s arms, both of them unable to sleep. If tears leaked out of Khushi’s eyes and wet his arm, he asked no questions. He just hugged her tighter, and kissed her hair.



Smita,

Here is the interpretation to Part 13.
This update is about the feeling of being secure, elements providing stability and security, in a word, MOORING.
As Arnav ordered Khushi to go with him she asked him, where to? He just asked her to go with him, without telling her where. Only when they entered his bank did she become aware of their destination. Soon, he had opened a bank account in her name with a large amount credited to her SB account and she became the possessor of FD's, ATM card, with the works. Her protest, Arnavji, her reprimand, Arnavji what is this? her reproach, what are you doing? fell on deaf ears. He was determined to give her all that she never had. Of them right now his top priority was security, that she had lacked both emotional and monetarily. He was determined to keep her safe, never to leave her helpless... He was bent on giving her a foothold so that she knew there was someone to safeguard her, there was someone who was her support. Even if she was far away from him, she would be under his protection. He was being her anchor, providing the much needed anchorage in her life.
That evening saw Khushi pack her bags, while Arnav sat watching her fold her clothes. She packed them neatly in her new suitcase he had purchased for her. Though his heart wept, he was careful as not to reveal his pain to her. Khushi frowned at the amount of clothes she had and were hanging in the wardrobe and told Arnav, that she would not be able to take everything. So asked him should she pack the rest to be left at Buaji's? Arnav was definite when he replied asking her to take whatever she needed with her and to leave the rest as it is in the wardrobe, as she would be needing it on her return. It was his way of saying, that he was her mainstay and she was a part of him. As Khushi called out, Arnavji, with a doubt, he looked at her challenging her to refuse. It was in defense to cover his feelings, that she was not seeing what was obvious to the rest, that wherever she flew, her landing would be right beside him, in his arms. She was hooked to him and all she needed to do was not refute the obvious. Seeing the confusion and pain in her eyes, he relented and calmed down. He soothed her saying that if she ever decides not to return to him, he would pack everything and leaves it at Buaji's. She looked in to his eyes for a moment before nodding, not wanting to get into a verbal duel over it. What he implied to her was that he would be her pillar and would support her in each and every step she took while protecting her, safeguarding her. That was what his eyes showed that she did not want to refute.
She asked Arnav worried about the response of Naniji, Mamiji and Di, when they go the next day? Her fear of hurting his family and the sadness they would plunge into were playing havoc in her mind and it got conveyed to him. Arnav, with a smile trying to allay her fears told her, that he had already told them that he was taking her on an overnight trip. He handled it, so that she need not face any emotional turmoil in addition to what she was already undergoing, by sorting out things for her that was quite easy for him. He did not want her to carry an emotional burden with her, the guilt of leaving them, when she went. So he did what he had to do, become her emotional support too, her safe harbor. They agreed? was her shocked response. Seeing the simple way her mind worked and her attachment to his family, he smiled with a naughty gleam, flicking her cheek with his finger told her that she was his wife, he could take her anywhere and no one would object. He made the innocent words sound utterly naughty making her redden. Then, he suggested getting ready to go to Laxmi Nagar and explain to Amma, Babuji and Buaji that they would be going to be out of Delhi for two days, providing Khushi the comfort of his presence when she tells them and the much needed emotional support. Khushi who was trying to bite back the sob that was rushing out of her throat found that she could not control the betraying tremble of her lips.
Their last night was spent lying in each other's arms, with sleep far away from both and when the tears that came out of the silent bitter sobs, that drenched his arm, Arnav just hugged her tighter without asking her any questions, showing her that was where she could depend to dock if ever she deemed it fit to give their relationship a chance. Both were desolate, she showed it with tears and he with silence. He just kept hugging her tight and kissing her hair every now conveying to take care while her tears conveyed her fear of losing him. This was what made them cling to one another and though Arnav knew that she was his mooring, the source of his emotional stability, the source of his emotional security, he had to wait until she realized that he was hers.
That is why this is titled MOORING.   
"People can't, unhappily, invent their mooring posts,  their lovers and their friends, anymore than they can  invent their parents. Life gives these and also takes  them away and the great difficulty is to say, Yes to life"
                                       ~ James Baldwin,                                                               Giovanni's Room
That's it from me. Hope you enjoy it.

Part 14

Arnav parked his car in front of the main building of Mangaldas Memorial School, and looked around.

It was a huge campus. Huge. Acres and acres of land lay spread around them, with buildings dotting the landscape. He turned to look at Khushi. She was sitting in her seat, petrified, her bloodless fingers clutching the ends of her dupatta.

He covered her fingers with his warm ones. “It is OK. They will love you, like I do.” he comforted her.

Khushi looked anxiously at him.

“Like your Laxmiji does.” Arnav tried to make her smile.

Khushi smiled slightly.

“It is time to meet your Girija Deviji.” Arnav reminded her.

Khushi nodded nervously. She was starting the next phase of her life, a next phase that would see her alone in the midst of strangers…without Arnavji...

“Khushi, remember this, whatever happens. I am just a phone call away.” he reminded her, dropping a warm kiss on her cold cheek.

She nodded.

“And whether you want them or not, you have an Amma, a Babuji, a Buaji, a Jiji, a Nani, a Mami, a Mama, a Di, two brothers, a HP, and a goat who love you.”

She nodded her head vigorously.

“Not to mention your husband who loves you more than his own life.” Arnav whispered.

Khushi looked in to his eyes, and nodded slowly.

“Chalein?” he asked.

She nodded.

Girija Devi looked at the odd pair sitting in front of her. The cook’s new help was dressed in an expensive traditional outfit, mangalsutra and sindoor intact, her face wan & nervous... Her husband was dressed in formal black coat & suit. He had driven his wife and her belongings to Varanasi from Delhi in an imported luxury vehicle...

 To take the job of a cook’s help? Girija Devi wanted to scratch her head in confusion.

She looked down at the card the husband had given her.

What was wrong with Arnav Singh Raizada, the owner of AR Designs, some international company that made skimpy clothes for underweight, malnourished models? Why was his wife desperate to leave him? And why was he so desperate to get rid of his wife that he had come all the way to Varanasi to drop her off?

She cleared her throat. “Mrs. Raizada, you have no experience at this job. So I suggest we have a trial period of one month. If your work is satisfactory and you are happy here, we can think of making this permanent.”

Khushi looked at the middle aged, matronly, comfortably plump lady and then at her husband. She nodded.

“Now, I suggest you both go with Nandini. She will show you the campus, the kitchen, & your room.” Girija Devi said.

“Ji.” Khushi whispered.

The minute the pair exited the room, Girija Devi booted up her computer and checked everything she could find on Arnav Singh Raizada.

Harvard-educated. Belonging to the ancient Raizada family of Lucknow. Numerous best businessman of the year awards. Images of various fashion shows, in which a stern, cold Arnav Singh Raizada stood surrounded by models in the clothes designed by his firm...Why had he married such an ordinary girl from such an ordinary, middle-class  family? Had his family forced him in to it? Was he ashamed of her? Had he brought her to Varanasi to get rid of her? Or was his family against this marriage? So many questions! And no answers!

She stood looking out through the glass window of her room, pondering on the puzzle that was before her.

Arnav & Khushi saw the school in which 3,000 girls studied, the hostel in which they and their teachers lived, the huge kitchen and the humongous dining hall, the room in which Khushi was to live…

It was small, but had  a private balcony. It was on the second floor, and had a single bed, a table & a chair, and a cabinet for clothes, built in to the wall. It was clean and airy.

Arnav placed her bags in the room, and looked around.

“Is it OK, Khushi?” he asked softly.

“Ji.” Khushi whispered.

He unlatched her suitcase and began to help her unpack.

Khushi placed her Devi Maiyya’s idol on the table. He arranged her clothes in her new wardrobe. Khushi covered the bed with the new sheets Arnavji had bought for her, and placed her new pillow at the head. Both of them worked silently, and soon the room was filled with Khushi’s things.

“Khushi, keep the phone with you at all times?” Arnav asked her.

“Ji...i..”

“Take care.” He hugged her tight. Khushi ran her hands over his back, trying to pull him closer in to her hold, caressing him, breathing in the scent of his after shave…

“It is time for me to leave.” Arnav whispered.

Khushi nodded, not wanting to let go of him.

He rubbed away the tears wetting her cheeks. “Khushi, promise me two things.”

“OK.” Khushi whispered.

“Call me if you need me. I will fly over.” He cupped her cheeks.

Khushi nodded. “I promise.”

“Two, promise me that you will try to be happy.” he whispered.

She looked in to his eyes with eyes flooded with tears. And nodded.

Girija Devi watched as Arnav Singh Raizada and his wife, Khushi walked down together to his car.

Arnav turned to look at Khushi. He smiled. “Bye.”

Khushi struggled hard to smile. “Bye.”

Girija Devi watched as Arnav turned away to walk to his car. Now that Khushi couldn’t see his face, he lost his smile and his face became drawn and tortured.

Girija Devi stared at him in wonder. So the great Arnav Singh Raizada was in love with his simple, middle-class wife and didn’t want to leave her here. Curiously, she looked at Khushi’s face. And felt her breath hitch. The girl’s face was a picture of misery.

What the hell was going on here? Girija Devi wondered.

She watched Khushi wave goodbye to her husband as he drove away, her arm in the air, a smile on her wet face till the vehicle vanished from her sight.

Girija Devi hit her head with her hand. Why did she feel like a cruel King Akbar who had killed Anarkali for falling in love with Salim?

She looked at her own reflection in the glass of the window.

A very rotund King Akbar. She imagined herself with a  turban and  a rose in her hand. And shuddered. She would have to do something about this sad Arnav Singh Raizada and his weepy wife, Khushi.

Smita,

Here is the interpretation to Part 14.

This update is about sudden sharp pain, painful emotions, in a word PANG!

As Arnav parked his car in front of the main building of Mangaldas Memorial School, a residential school, he took in the surroundings. It was a huge campus situated in the countryside with acres of land in its holding. The school buildings dotted the landscape amidst the veritable forest area covered with a green cover of young trees that showed conservation and enhancement of the natural environment. It had a remarkable atmosphere of peace and serenity. He turned to look at Khushi who was sitting in her seat. She had blanched and her numb fingers had curled around the ends of her dupatta. The agony of separation from Arnav had now taken the mammoth proportion just like  the school grounds itself. Covering her fingers with his, giving her the much needed warmth and assurance that he was there for her, always, he comforted her with words too saying, that it was alright and they too would soon love her just like him. His words though meant as a comfort to her held his pangs of regret. As the doe eyed damsel in distress looked at him with her eyes showing her trust in him, just like a young deer would, he tried to alleviate her mood by saying, like her Laxmiji does. It did help to nip off the pain a bit and bring out a wisp of a smile on her face. He reminded her that it was the time to meet her boss, Girija Deviji. Khushi nodded feeling yellow, for she realized that the time had come to begin a new phase in her life, where she was to tread alone amidst strange faces without the support of her Arnavji, who had been there for her through thick and thin. Even when he was firing salvos at her he had seen that he was protecting her from everyone else. He was there to hold her whenever she fell. He had been behind her quietly but now she had to stand on her own two feet and use her wit to pave her way through. Arnav while giving a warm kiss on her cold cheek reminded her that, whatever happens, he was just a phone call away. And as she silently nodded her understanding, he continued to say that, whether she wanted them or not, she had an Amma, a Babuji, a Buaji, a Jiji, a Nani, a Mami, a Mama, a Di, two brothers, a HP, and a goat all who love you and miss you. Though she felt a tweak at being away from them she nodded her head vigorously acknowledging the fact. Finally coming to the point he wanted to stress, feeling a pang in his heart, he whispered that, she has her husband who loves her more than his own life. Khushi feeling the depth of sadness hidden in those words, looked into his eyes and nodded slowly unable to utter anything to console him for she herself was feeling a darting pain in her heart. As he asked her, shall we go? she just nodded.

Girija Devi looked at the odd pair sitting in front of her. She did a double take, seeing the cook's new help dressed in traditional clothes but expensive and finest of them, with mangalsutra and sindoor intact, with a face wan and nervous. Her husband dressed in a black suit, a designer outfit, exuding power, had driven his wife and her belongings to Varanasi from Delhi in a SUV, an imported luxury vehicle possessed by an elite few, made her raise her eyebrows. The lady in front of her, had come over as the cook's help? This had her jaws dropped. Girija Devi was at her wits end. She wondered was she here to take the job of a cook's help? To confirm, she looked at the card that the husband had given her. She wondered what was wrong with Arnav Singh Raizada, the owner of AR Designs, some international company that made skimpy clothes for petite women, exhibited by the models of size zero. Why was his wife desperate to leave him? And why was he so desperate to get rid of his wife that he had come all the way to Varanasi to drop her off? It disturbed her and felt a pang of sympathy to the couple for resorting to this, for they must be having their own constraints was her opinion and no one of their position would resort to such a step without any reason. All her experience was telling her so and so also was her sixth sense. So deciding to give her opinion she cleared her throat to say that, since Mrs. Raizada has no experience at this job, her suggestion was to have a trial period of one month and after evaluating her work and if she was happy to stay with them, they could think of permanent employment. Khushi though felt a bit aback, knew it was a fair and square deal, looked at the middle-aged matronly lady and then at her husband before nodding in assent. Girija Devi suggested that, Nandini would take them around the campus, and show the kitchen and the quarters too. Khushi nodded.

The minute the pair exited the room, Giraja Devi, suppressing the pangs of guilt, checked for information in her computer, for each and everything that she could get her hands on Arnav Singh Raizada. What she saw, was not at all what she had expected of the family, for a cook's help to hail from. Arnav Singh Raizada was Harvard-educated scion of the ancient Raizada family of Lucknow. A person who had excelled in his field and was the recipient of numerous Best Businessman of the Year Awards. She found a gallery of the pictures of various fashion shows, in which a stern, cold Arnav Singh Raizada stood surrounded by models in the clothes designed by his firm.  She was filled with misgivings. It made her wonder, why he had married such an ordinary girl from such an ordinary, middle-class family. Had his family forced him to it? Was he ashamed of her? Had he brought her to Varanasi to get rid of her? Or was his family against this marriage? Having dedicated herself to the social cause of women and their education her first thoughts were so many questions and yet no answers! She stood looking out of the window, contemplating on what she had found and whether she was missing anything in the puzzle.

Arnav and Khushi saw the school where 3000 girls studied, a huge establishment by any standards. They saw the hostel that housed the students and the teachers, the huge kitchen and the colossal dining and Khushi's quarters. It was a small room with a private balcony on the second floor with a single cot, a chair and a table. Other than that it housed a built-in almirah. The room was clean and airy. Placing the bags in her room, Arnav asked her softly, was that O.K.? Hearing her whispered, yes, he opened her suitcase and began to help her unpack. Taking out her Devi Maiyya's idol, she placed it on the table and while he arranged her clothes in her almirah, she made up her bed with the new sheets and the pillow that her Arnavji had bought for her. Both gripped by the pangs of misery and wretchedness, silently set things and soon the room looked very much like her's with all her personal belongings around.

Once done, Arnav asked her to keep her phone with her at all times and when she uttered, yes, in a wobbly voice, he hugged her tight with gnawing grief asked her, to take care of herself. Khushi running her hand on his back feeling him, feeling pangs of sorrow override her being, clung to him, breathing in the scent of his after shave that was lingering on him. Arnav trying to ease her pain of separation, he whispered that it was time for him to leave. Though Khushi nodded, she did not want to let go of him. With his warm hand caressing her cheeks and wiping it clear of the tears that were not stopping from pooling in her eyes and streaming down, he asked her, to promise him of two things. When she agreed, cupping her cheeks he asked her to call him if she needs him and he will come to her in a jiffy. Khushi nodded and said that she promises to do so. Then, he whispered the second one asking her to pledge that, she would try to be happy.  She looked into his eyes with a misty vision and nodded. Pangs of fear, pangs of remorse washed over them.

Girija Devi, who was looking out of her window pondering over the information she had got out of her computer, watched Arnav Singh Raizada and his wife, Khushi walk down together to his car. As he turned to look at Khushi and smiled saying, bye, she could see Khushi struggling hard to smile back at him hiding her pain, while whispering her bye. What she saw next rooted her to the spot. Arnav, turning away to walk to his car with his back towards Khushi, lost his smile and his face was drawn, tortured and shriveled like a deflated balloon. His face was a picture of fear, remorse and gripe with misery. She thought, well, well, wonders will never cease! Business tycoon, Arnav Singh Raizada was in love with his simple, middle-class wife and did not want to leave her. Filled with curiosity, her eyes moved to Khushi's face. What she saw was so touching that she felt a lump in her throat. The girl's face was a picture of misery, as miserable as a frost bitten apple. It had lost all its color and vigor just like a burst out soap bubble! Her distress was apparent and her face was pinched with pain. It made her wonder as to what was going on. As she watched, she saw Khushi wave to her husband as he drove away, her arm waving to him in the air with a face like wet weekend plastered with a plastic smile, till he vanished from her sight.

Girija Devi was stumped with what she saw. She hit her head with her hand and wondered why was it she felt like the cruel Akbar viewing things from his tower as he ordered Anarkali to be entombed for falling in love with the Crown Prince Salim! Looking at her reflection in the glass of her window she let her imagination run away. For, she would make a rotund King Akbar. She imagined herself with a plumed turban, a salt and peppered horse shoe moustache and a rose in her hand. It evoked a shudder in her. Feeling a pang of sympathy, she decided she needed to take things under her control and do something about this Arnav Singh Raizada with hangdog look and his tearful wife, Khushi.

This update showed though both Arnav and Khushi feeling the pangs of imminent separation, both were filled with pangs of fear too.
For Khushi, it was the fear of losing her support system that was one man totem pole, her Arnavji. She had become accustomed to having him around her, and her, hovering around him. But now she has to stand on her own two feet and away from him. It was eating her heart out. But she needed to do it for herself. She owed it to herself. She needed her 'me-time' very badly to sort things out and this residential school was quite ideal.
For Arnav it was the fear of her decision. Though he was 99% sure of the outcome, that 1% could overrule everything in the end. This, his business acumen understood. Though the chance of that particular 1% becoming reality was remote, it could not be ruled out even if it was something he did not want to think about. But things were out of his control. He needed to give her the space to decide. He owed her the right to decide. He owed her at least one chance to give that right and set things right, for his list of errors were too long. But the irony of it was the decision of his life ahead rested on one decision from her. That is why he is smote with pangs of fear.
For Arnav Singh Raizada it is a long wait, to see whether her pangs of separation have the capacity to over ride all the other pangs of emotions. Now his pang of remorse, pang of guilt is insufficient to move her. So he feels a pang in his heart!
For Girija Deviji, it is her innate nature of responding to people and their problems that has made her have pangs of sympathy. Both Arnav and Khushi have found a mentor in her unknown to them.

That is why it is titled PANG.

"You never know how strong you are, until being strong   is the only choice you have"

That's it from me. Hope you enjoy it.