111. Marrying Khushi (Part 6-)

Marrying Khushi: Part 6

“Khushi, tum kahan reh gayi! It is so late! Tumhe pata he, Buaji was waiting in the courtyard with a stick to beat you till a moment ago!” a petite and beautiful girl hissed, her face anxious.

“Jiji, it is a long story!” Khushi sighed. “Phursat mein bataoongi…like when we have two years to spare!” Khushi turned her head to glower at Arnav Singh Raizada who was watching the exchange with an expressionless face.

Anjali looked at Aman. What was this girl made of? Khushi was totally fearless, and ready to go two rounds with ASR!

“Jiji, meet Shri. Arnav Singh Raizada. He has a kapde ka dukaan. In Delhi. This is my Jiji, Payal.”

Payal folded her hands in greeting, her heart quailing. What had Khushi done now?

“Jiji, this is his sister, Anjaliji. And this is his manager, Amanji.”

Payal greeted them politely. “Please come in. Please sit down. Khushi, go inside and inform Buaji, Amma, & Babuji that we have guests.” she instructed.

Khushi vanished inside.

ASR looked around the living room. It was a spacious room with white walls covered with framed photos.

Leaving Anjali & Aman behind, he walked around the room to look at the pictures.

Khushi with Payal and three other adults. Must be her father, mother, and Buaji.

He choked. In one photo, Khushi had taken her Buaji’s long plait of hair and placed it beneath her nose to make it look like a moustache!

“Chotey!” Anjali whispered in warning.

He turned around to see the three adults he had seen in the photos entering the room.

Anjali & Aman stood up.

“Baito, Nandkisore!” Buaji said. 

All greeted each other and sat down. Payal rushed to the kitchen to join Khushi in making tea and serving snacks to the guests.

Babuji looked at the three well-dressed guests with confusion in his eyes. He asked, “Khushi said you wanted to meet us?”

“Ji.” ASR said. Now he had to ask their permission to make Khushi his… model…. He felt his throat muscles protesting, his heart thudding in nervousness….

Garima looked anxiously at Buaji. What had Khushi done now?

“Bitwaa, Titliyaa did not cause you any harm, did she?” Buaji asked ASR, serious.

“Ji?” he asked, a frown of confusion adorning his temple.

“Oo kaa he Nandkisore, woh thodi sanki he! She gets in to the most awful of scrapes with very little trouble….” Buaji explained with a worried look at her brother.

“Err…no…no…Khushi did not do anything….” ASR started.

Three relieved sighs wafted on the air.

“Acha he, Nandkisore!” Buaji exclaimed aloud, relieved. “Trouble always comes in search of her. That is our Sanka Devi!” Buaji chuckled.

Payal & Khushi brought in trays of tea cups and bowls of snacks and placed them before the guests. Khushi served the Laad Governaar, glaring at him, and then moved on to his sister and manager.

Arnav sipped the tea. It was sweet. He placed the cup and saucer back on the tray.

“Kaa hua, Babua? Why aren’t you having your tea?” Garima asked.

“I…I am diabetic. I can’t have anything sweet.” ASR spoke mildly to the kind lady.

“I will make fresh tea for you.” Garima got up.

“No…it is fine….” ASR tried to protest, but Garima moved towards the kitchen.

All the people in the room stared at each other, uncomfortable. The Guptas had no idea why strangers were visiting them.

Finally, Babuji asked, “You are from Delhi?”

“Ji.” Anjali smiled. “Arnav owns a company that designs clothes. We are holding a fashion show next month in Lucknow, in Sheesh Mahal….” She decided to help her brother.

“That big, white building…” Buaji thought aloud.

“Ji.” Aman stepped in. “We want models to display the Indian clothes…the lehengas and the saris….They have to wear these clothes and walk on a stage. We have been hiring suitable girls as models and training them….”

“Oh!” Buaji exclaimed.

“Khushiji will make a perfect model. Her height, her skin, her beauty, her grace….Buaji, would you mind sending her to us as a model?” Anjali asked, a gentle smile on her face.

Babuji, Buaji, & Payal stared at her with their mouths open.

 Khushi grimaced, looking at Laad Governaar’s closed face. He looks like a bee stung him, she thought, and that too in some unmentionable part.

“She will not have to travel out of Lucknow.” ASR said. “She can stay with the other models in Sheesh Mahal. And it is only for one month….”

One month of seeing him on a regular basis? It was better to take up sanyas, Khushi thought.

“The clothes are sarees and lehengas, all modest. And Khushiji will be safe with us. I will personally take full responsibility for her.” Anjali smiled.

What was wrong with Anjaliji? Why was she so insistent on having her as a model? Khushi almost scratched her head in confusion.

Garima returned with tea for Arnav. He took it from her with a murmur of gratitude.

Babuji said, “Bitiyaa, I am sorry. Woh kya he ki, in our families, girls don’t take up such jobs…..”

Buaji added, “We have two girls to marry off, Bitiyaa. If we send Khussi to walk on the stage in front of hundreds of people, no good boy from a good family will be willing to marry her. It will affect Payaliyaa’s life too…..And as it is she has one screw theela....”

Garima looked at her husband and her Jiji in confusion. “Walk on the stage? Khussi? Ka hua, Jiji? Is there some festival in our temple?”

“No, Garima. Arnav Babua kahe rahe, there’s some function in his company. Girls have to walk on a stage wearing sari and lehenga, Nandkisore….”

Garima gasped.

“Naa Babua, naa… As it is the whole of Lucknow knows that she is sanki. Now if she does something scandalous like this, no one will marry her. Naa…”

Khushi smiled at ASR, all thrilled, as though to say, I told you no, didn’t I?

ASR could feel his palms sweating. He had found his girl. Khushi…she could not hide from him any longer. But how to keep her within his realm, his area of control? He looked at Khushi, smiling at him, triumphant at her escape from him. She popped a piece of jalebi in her mouth, relishing the sweet taste of victory.

Anjali and Aman looked at ASR, sorry for him, desperately wanting to help him further, but not knowing what to do.

His composed face in place, ASR said, “I fully understand your concerns, Amma, Babuji, Buaji….”

Anjali, Aman, & Khushi stared at him in shock.

“If you don’t want to send Khushi to Sheesh Mahal as a model, that’s perfectly fine.” he continued.

Babuji, Buaji, & Garima smiled at him in relief.

“Bura mat maanna, Bitwaa.” Garima said.

“In our society, in our biradiri, such things are not acceptable, Nandkisore!” Buaji explained.

“I am sorry to disappoint you.” Babuji said politely.

“That is fine.” ASR with a shatir dimag trained in Haridwar said. “But I would like your help on another matter.”

Garima, Babuji, & Buaji looked at each other.

“What is it, Bitwaa?” Babuji asked. “If it is in our power to do so, we will help you.”

Anjali and Aman looked at ASR, holding their breath, waiting to find out what his inventive brain had come up with.

“Khushi was telling me that you own Satwik Mistaan Bhandaar and that she makes very good jalebis….” ASR began.

“Yes, Babua.” Babuji said.

Khushi huffed in annoyance. So he hadn’t believed her, and was now asking her father for confirmation!  What a Laad Governaar! Rakshas kahin ka! She rolled her eyes at him like a mad bull eyeing the butt of a potential victim.

“There are 30 persons staying in Sheesh Mahal right now. They need to be fed four times a day. We have built a well-equipped canteen in the outhouse of the mansion, and brought Manju Singh from Delhi to work as canteen manager. But we don’t have enough female staff who know how to cook. Finding good cooks at such a short notice is very difficult for us….” ASR began.

Anjali & Aman drew in sharp breaths of appreciation. Nobody could think on his feet like ASR!

“And I can’t eat oily, unhealthy food from restaurants daily. My health….”

Anjali & Aman nodded furiously in agreement.

Amma, Babuji, & Buaji looked at ASR sympathetically.

“Hai Re Nandkisore! So young, and yet so ill!” Buaji muttered in sympathy.

“You can’t even eat a laddoo!” Garima muttered in sympathy.

ASR said, “Can you send Khushi to Sheesh Mahal to work as a cook? She knows Lucknow and the people here. Manju Singh can take her help to employ more people in the kitchen, and she can prepare healthy meals for me. And the others….”

There was silence in the room. Even the air seemed to be waiting for the decision of the Guptas. Anjali clutched the arms of her chair, fearful of the answer.

“No, no, Devi Maiyya, please, no….” Khushi chanted in her mind. “I don’t want to go to his Sheesh Mahal. I don’t want to cook for him! I don’t want to see him again….”

Amma, Babuji, & Buaji looked at each other.

“This is only for one month, Babuji.” ASR reassured him. 

The Guptas nodded.

“Tum itna keh rahe ho, Nandkisore, how can we refuse you?” Buaji asked.

No…screamed Khushi, silently.

“Are you sure you want Khussi to work in your kitchen?” Garima asked, pale, seeing the many hundreds of ways in which her Khussi could turn a simple job into a torture chamber…for her employer.

“Ji.” ASR affirmed.

May Devi Maiyya protect him…from Khussi!, Garima thought.

“Khushi will help you, Bitwaa. After all, you are guests to our city. How can we refuse a helping hand?” asked Babuji.

ASR could feel his limbs tremble in relief.

“If Khussi does some mischief, kaan pakadke you throw her out, Bitwaa. And complain to her father.” Buaji advised him.

ASR nodded. He stood up to leave. Anjali & Aman joined him.

“Manju Singh will come here tomorrow morning, and explain her duties to Khushi. Then Khushi can accompany her to Sheesh Mahal and start her work.” ASR said.

All the Guptas except Khushi nodded, reassured.

“We have to go now.” ASR said, bidding a fond farewell to the family.

Khushi stood at the far end of the crowd, grinding her teeth in fury.

“Khushi, we will see you tomorrow.” he dared to say as he left, taking great pleasure in seeing her face mottled in helpless anger.

No jalebis for Devi Maiyya for an entire month, Khushi thought, furious at having all her plans overset. And the Laad Governaar? She would teach him a lesson that he wouldn’t forget in a hurry!

As they drove back to Sheesh Mahal, Anjali teased her brother, “So we are not going to Delhi, Chotey?”

Chotey blushed.

“Looks like you will be busy in Lucknow for the whole of this month, Sir.” Aman said, tongue-in-cheek. “Shall I return to Delhi tomorrow? I am sure you don’t need my assistance in this...negotiation.”

The red colour spread down ASR’s neck.

Anjali & Aman burst out laughing.

Part 7

Manju Singh looked at Anjali & Aman with surprised eyes. “I have to go to a Gomti Sadan and invite a certain Khushi Kumari Gupta to join me as an assistant cook?”

Anjali & Aman nodded vigorously.

“Wear salwar kameez, Manjuji. It will give the Guptas a good feeling about our Operation Khushi.” Aman smiled away.

Manju frowned. “Operation Khushi?”

Anjali explained, all smiles. “Your ASR has finally fallen in love!”

“Who? I mean, ASR…love? With this Khushi?” Manju gasped.

Anjali & Aman nodded, smiling.

“The ASR has gone and fallen in love with …a wannabe cook?” Manju could not believe her ears.

Anjali pouted. “Manjuji, don’t call Khushiji a wannabe cook. She is already a halwai by birth and career.”

Manju Singh collapsed in a chair. “A halwai?” she whispered, her voice just a thread. “He fell in love with a halwai?”

Anjali & Aman nodded.

Manju looked at Anjali & Aman for a moment. Then she said wryly, “So that was what was wrong with all the models flashing their legs and whatnot at him. They were not halwais. That is why he never paid any attention to them.”

Aman & Anjali chuckled.

“Manjuji, please keep her here for one month. By hook or crook. She has to be here for one month. So that she too can fall in love with Chotey.” Anjali smiled.

“That is, we hope she will fall in love with Ch..I mean, ASR.” Aman qualified Anjali’s optimistic statement.

Manju Singh looked both of them in the eye. “Do you seriously think that watching ASR in action for one month will make any girl fall in love with him?” she asked, bluntly.

Anjali sighed. “We hope it will…but it does seem difficult when you put it like that….”

“Anjaliji, ASR needs a personality transplant not the period of one month to make a girl fall in love with him.” Manju was nothing if not truthful.

“Anjaliji, Manjuji…” Aman soothed the ladies. “Don’t worry about ASR & Khushi. Things will work out. That is why love is considered to be blind.” Aman tried to enthuse both of them on their way to helping ASR.

“This love has to be deaf and dumb too if this Khushi has to fall for ASR. Especially when he is throwing one of his tantrums….” muttered Manju.

“Manjuji, what do you normally make for breakfast?” Khushi asked, hopping from one foot to the other in excitement as she walked along the road with Manju Singh by her. Yes, it was the Rakshas's kitchen, but it was still a kitchen! It was not the fault of the poor kitchen that it happened to be owned by a khadoos, manipulative.... And she would get the chance to feed thirty people!

Manju looked at the beautiful, vivacious face turned up to her. No wonder ASR, the stone heart, fell for her! she thought. The girl was absolutely beautiful, so stunning that most models would cease to be seen if Khushi shared air with them. And so totally unselfconscious!

But such a lovingly brought up girl! And that too from a middle-class family. Would she survive a month with ASR? Would she fall for that khadoos, akhdoo, egomaniac?

“Toast, orange juice, coffee, tea, fruits…” Manju muttered.

Khushi frowned. “Nobody eats proper food?”

Manju looked at her for an explanation.

“I mean, poori, aloo sabzi…..” Khushi asked, genuinely curious.

Manju smiled. “The models are all concerned about their weight and figure. They starve themselves to get in to the clothes that designers make for them.”

“They starve? He Devi Maiyya! Poor things!” Khushi was all pity for the models.

“They worship and are scared of another Devi. Calorie Devi.” Manju quipped.

“Calorie Devi?” Khushi asked. She was about to ask more when Manjuji’s phone rang.

“Yes, Sir. She is with me. We will get there in 2 minutes.” Manju reported, rolling her eyes. This was the fifth call from ASR that morning. 

As she cut the call, Khushi asked, “Was that Laa…I mean, Arnav Singh Raizadaji?”

“Yes.” Manju watched her closely for any sign of affection on Khushi’s face, but couldn’t find anything except annoyance.

Khushi pursed her lips. The Laad Governaar! Using her family’s kind heart to get her here… Khushi frowned. But why? Why was he so insistent that she cook for him? After all, she was not his Phoophaji’s daughter for him to find employment for her!

“Is he mad?” Khushi asked Manju directly.

Manju’s eyebrows flew up to her hairline. ASR was many things. Primarily, he was a pain in the neck…and other parts, but mad he was not.

“No.” Manju said. “Why do you think he is mad?”

“I ran in to him in the Gomti Nagar market and knocked down his bottle of pickle. That is all I did.  I didn’t do anything else. I didn’t have the time!” Khushi explained earnestly.

Manju paid close attention. ASR had picked a namoona for himself!

“I bought him a new bottle of pickle. I made up for my mistake, didn’t I, Manjuji?” Khushi asked.

Manju nodded. “Then?”

“He asked me to be a model.” Khushi said, her eyes wide.

Manju gasped.

“I said no.”

Manju stared at her.

“Do you know what that Laa…Raizadaji did then, Manjuji? He caught hold of my arm…” Khushi showed the spot on her arm that ASR had clutched. “…and dragged me to his car…”

“And had his evil way with you?” Manju asked, hiding an amused smile.

Khushi frowned, not understanding the implication. “And introduced me to Anjaliji & Amanji…”

“Kebab mein do haddi…” Manju said, hiding a smile.

“Kebab? But I am vegetarian. Strict vegetarian.” Khushi frowned. “Then he pushed me in to his car and made me show him the way to my house.”

“Acha? Then?”

“He came in, and impressed my Amma, Babuji, Buaji, and Jiji with his polite behaviour and manners…”

The breath that Manju had innocently drawn choked her. She coughed. “His what?” she gasped.

Khushi frowned. “His polite behaviour and manners.”

Manju coughed once more. “Really?” she managed to gasp.

“Really. Then he asked my family for permission to make me his model.”

Manju asked faintly, “What did they say?”

“They refused, of course. How can I be a model when I am perfectly capable of tripping & falling on my nose while walking on an even surface? And how will they get me married off if the whole of Lucknow sees me walking on a stage, wearing sarees & lehenga? If it were a dance…” Khushi ruminated.

Manju coughed again, hiding her smiling lips behind her hand.

“So he said, if I can’t be his model, I should be his cook. That he is diabetic and needs healthy food that I should cook for him. That he can’t eat oily food from restaurants….” Khushi reported.

Manju laughed silently. So ASR was pulling out all the stops, even using the sympathy card to trap the bird. But how would Khushi deal with the ASR’s huge ego and his legendary temper? 

They strolled in  through the huge gates of Sheesh Mahal.

Khushi drew in a sharp breath. “It is so huge!” she whispered.

“Yes.” Manju said, smiling. “It has to be if 30 people have to live here for one month. Our kitchen is in the outhouse. It is linked to Sheesh Mahal by a passage. After we cook, servers will carry the dishes to the big dining hall in the main building.”

Khushi nodded. 

Manju led her to the outhouse, and showed her the humongous kitchen and explained the use of the many pieces of equipment arranged within it.

Manju’s phone rang.

 ASR. 

She answered the call, cut the phone, and told Khushi, “He wants to see you.”

“Who?” Khushi asked, her eyes still on the beautiful food processor and the rack of gleaming knives.

“ASR.”

Khushi frowned. “Why does Laad Governaar want to see me?” she thought aloud.

Manju collapsed in a chair, laughing.

When Manju was done laughing, she gave directions to ASR’s study in Sheesh Mahal.

“Take care, Khushi. He is known for his temper.” Manju warned.

“Really? His temper has made him famous? Very good. Then he can keep it with himself. I don’t want any of it.” Khushi lifted her chin in the air and marched towards Sheesh Mahal.

Manju buried her head in her hands, laughing like mad.

The big doors of Sheesh Mahal stood wide open, as though welcoming all visitors in to its cavernous hall.

Khushi hesitated to step in. The darkness…the chill air….

“Khushi….” came the call she had not been expecting.

ASR stood at the far end of the huge hall, looking at her. Dressed in black formal clothes, he looked a part of the scary, eerie house. Had he called her? But how could she hear him from such a distance unless he had shouted her name? Khushi frowned as she took the first step towards him.

He stood waiting, watching the slight, fairy-like figure in a violet anarkali walk to him.

As she neared him, ASR said, his voice low and husky, “Welcome to Sheesh Mahal, Khushi.” He took care to keep his face expressionless, but possessiveness coloured his tone. Khushi was finally here, in his space, within his control…. She would never leave him. He would trap her like a spider trapped a fly in its web...till no one could separate them....

Khushi shivered, his voice touching nerve ends that she did not know she possessed.

She frowned at him. “Why are you holding a fashion show in a house that looks haunted?”

One eyebrow lifted. “Haunted?” Images of his father and mother, all wrapped up in a white shroud, lying in this very hall rushed through his mind.

"Come with me." He quickly led her away in to his study and locked the door.

Khushi nodded. “It looks like a house filled with ghosts…like you see in phillums….” She looked nervously around the huge room, searching for paranormal activity.

ASR crossed his arms and looked at her, a small bubble of amusement taking birth in his heart.

 “Oh, so that is why I heard the sound of anklets at night…” he mused.

Khushi paled. “Anklets?” Her mouth fell open in an Aww.

“Hhmmm….And felt someone knock on my window last night….”

Khushi looked in to his impassive face with terrified eyes.

“The dogs were barking all night, and I saw a figure in white walk across the lawn at midnight….” Arnav teased, loving the fear in her saucer-like eyes.

Khushi rushed to him and clutched his arm in fear. 

“F..f..igure in wh..wh..ite…?” she stammered.

Arnav nodded innocently. “And she was singing Gumnaam he koi…” ASR comforted his Khushi by drawing his arm and her closer to him and placing his warm, large hand over her pale fingers.

Khushi shuddered in fear and drew closer to him.

“But she was out of tune. Looks like she was out of practice….” ASR said, a smirk in his eyes and on his lips as he looked down at the girl hanging limply on his arm.

Khushi frowned at him. “What?” she asked.

Arnav smirked more openly.

Khushi’s face became suffused with anger. “You were teasing me, you…you Laad Governaar!” She pulled her hand away from his hold.

Arnav raised one eyebrow. “How can I resist, Khushi, when you make it so easy for me to... tease you?” he asked, his seductive voice pricking her skin like a thousand needles.

 Part 8

Tose Naina (Mickey Virus)

Khushi sat at the dining table and stared in to her plate of poori.

The Laad Governaar! How dare he trick her? He and his ghost in white singing gumnaam he koi! She would show him what he could do with his gumnaam and his koi!  She glared at the gol gol poori. A jalebi sat neglected in one corner of her plate.

Amma, Babuji, Buaji, & Payal looked at each other.

Finally, Buaji asked, “Kaa hua Titliyaa? Why are you staring at the poori as though it has stolen 100 rupees from you, Nandkisore?”

Khushi smiled widely. “Nothing, Buaji! I am feeling sleepy, that’s all.”

“Khussi, is the work there too much for you?” Babuji asked. “If it is, you can always tell Arnav Bitwaa that you don’t want to continue with this job…” Babuji suggested.

“No, Babuji. The work is very easy. Aap ko paat he, there are so many machines in the kitchen. They do half the work. We just have to watch them do it.”

“Acha?” Amma asked, curious.

“Haan, Amma. And the models don’t eat anything! It is always soup-poop,  salad-ballad, fruit juuuuice without sugar….” Khushi enlightened her family to the travails of the models.

“Tut..tut…” Buaji sympathised with the slender damsels. “How will they find husbands, Nandkisore, when they don’t have enough energy to stand up?”

“Jiji!” Khushi prodded her sleeping Jiji.

Payal opened one reluctant eye. “Kya he, Khushi?”

“Jiji, I am going out. Tonight I have to teach him a lesson.” Khushi muttered, her eyes filled with a revengeful light.

Payal rubbed her eyes and yawned. “You are going to take tuition at night?”

“Haan, Jiji. I am going to take Arnav Singh Raizada’s class!” Khushi jumped out of bed.

ASR lay in bed in his room on the ground floor in Sheesh Mahal, his arms crossed beneath his head, staring at the carvings on the ceiling. Aman was on the third floor, with other male staff. Di, the models, and the female staff were on the second floor. He had opted for the room he had used since childhood.

He looked around.

He had never thought that he would stay in Sheesh Mahal again. Never believed that the terrible dreams, the nightmares would let him sleep under this roof again….

But if this house held pain and horror, it also held sweet memories of his Mama, of his childhood….memories that had remained buried under a morass of pain and soul-searing anguish.

Good memories rushed through his head, as the dam suppressing them broke.  Mama patting him on his chest as she sung a lullaby to help him sleep, Mama & Papa watching over him anxiously as he battled fever, Di crawling in to his blanket on a stormy night…. He shut his eyes, his jaw clenched in pain. Where had those days gone? How had their lives changed beyond recognition in a few moments?

The curtains covering the open window opening out to the vast ground danced in the wind. He opened his eyes and took in the billowing fabric. Through the gaps, he could see the dimly-lit grounds and the tall trees swaying in the chill wind.

A perfect night for ghosts.

Khushi…he smiled. The way her eyes had widened when he had told her a tall tale about ghosts! The way she had clung to his arm…he could still feel her touch through the sleeve of his coat. He had wanted to gather her in to his arms and carry her away to their own choti si duniya, keep her so close to him that no one could part them….

His fingers gently touched the spot she had gripped with her fingers.

Khushi gathered the folds of her white sari around her, cursing the Laad Governaar under her breath. How did the ghosts in the movies manage the flowing length of their garments on windy nights? Why did they have to wear sarees? Couldn’t they wear salwar kameez?

And it was cold. She should have worn something warm over the sari. But how could a ghost come to scare a rakshas wearing a sweater over her white sari?

She shivered. Ever since she had met him, her life had turned upside down. He was a pest, a nuisance, an irritant worse than big mosquitoes biting one through one's clothes. Why couldn't he have remained in Delhi, frying the bheja of the people he met there? Why did he have to park himself in Lucknow?

She looked around. It was dark. Her fingers clutched the white cloth nervously. What if the real ghosts roaming about this godforsaken pile came to meet her, believing her to be one of their ilk?

“He Devi Maiyya, Devi Maiyya! Raksha karna.” Khushi chanted beneath her breath.

She looked down at her feet. The anklets she had used last year to perform at Jaggu Bhaiyya’s sangeet were doing their job, producing a din as she walked. Now she had to wake him by jingling them.

ASR turned his head towards the window, his senses sharp and alert. Was that the sound of anklets? He frowned. At this time of the night… he looked at the clock. Three minutes to midnight. Who was walking in the grounds at midnight?

Khushi walked towards the room in which ASR slept. Thank God for Manjuji! She was a fount of information regarding the manipulative Raavan!

The windows were left open to the night air. He must be sleeping in his cosy bed, Khushi thought enviously, her thoughts flying to the warm bed she had left to come here.

He was sleeping comfortably, was he?  She would take care of his sleep! She, Khushi Kumari Gupta, would haraam his neend! How dare he tease her so? The smirk on his face, the way he had looked at her! She had wanted to knock that smile off his face! The way he had held her so close to him! Who was he to touch her like that? Yes, she had caught hold of his arm in fear, but why did he have to pull her so close? As though he had some haq over her? Who was she? His wife?, Khushi snorted.

Khushi walked to his window. He had said that he had heard a knock on his window, hadn’t he? She knocked gleefully.

What the!

ASR jumped out of bed, and strode to the window to look out. In the moonlight and the dim gleam of the garden lights, he could see the vast expanse of his grounds. There was no one as far as his eyes could see.

Khushi stood pressed against the wall, hidden by the open window panel. He wanted to scare her, didn’t he? Well, he could shiver in his boots for a change! She moved away from the window, and started barking like  a dog, making wailing and howling sounds in between.

ASR frowned. What was that animal? A dog? But… why was it whining?

As he looked out through the window, he saw a slim figure in a white sari gliding over the dewy grass of his lawn. 

His eyes widened. What the! Who was the idiot walking in such thin clothes on such a cold night?

Gumnam hain koyee, badnam hain koyee………..
Kisko khabar, kaun hain woh, anjan hain koyee………….

ASR’s eyes widened.

 Khushi?

 Khushi was getting her own back at him for teasing him?

Joy, the kind he had never experienced in all of his 29 years, rushed through his veins like a flood. Anticipation, eagerness, the call to adventure, the thrill of meeting a challenge, and the sheer pleasure of meeting Khushi propelled him to leap out of his window on to the ground covered with moist grass. His eyes trained on the precious figure ahead of him, he moved on silent feet towards her, softly.

Gumnam hain koyee, badnam hain koyee
Kisko khabar, kaun hain woh, anjan hain koyee……..
Gumnam hain koyee…………..

This stupid saree! It was sure to trip her! A ghost lying nose down in the grass at midnight would be a ridiculous sight rather than a scary one, she fumed. And the absurd song! Couldn’t ghosts pick something with more tempo? There were so many item songs to choose from! And her unbound hair was flying in to her eyes in the chill wind. Khushi shivered and tried to push the strands out of her eyes.

Were her painful efforts paying off? Had she succeeded in scaring him? Was he leaning against the window sill, his head spinning?

She peeked cautiously behind her through the curtain of her hair swirling wildly around her pale and pinched face, the cold air leaching the little colour she had.

She almost had a heart attack. The Rakshas was following her!

 Khushi inhaled sharply, feeling cold air rush to her lungs. Her eyes widened in dismay! Who had asked him to follow her? He was supposed to stand at his window, reeling in shock & fear!

He was gaining on her. Now there was no other go.

She gathered the pleats of her sari in her trembling fingers and made a run for it, leaving behind all efforts to sing while gliding gracefully.

Arnav watched the ghost running for her life, and let out a chuckle. This was so much fun! He speeded up his efforts to keep her in his sight, and the ghost and the rakshas made their way to the wooded fringes of the estate, away from the house.

She ran through thickets, holding her sari up, her hair flying behind her like a halo. Her breath came in choppy waves, and she winced as her arm scraped against the bark of a tree. She looked around, desperate, like a rabbit chased by scent hounds.

 She spied a broken down gazebo to her right. She raced in to it.

It was in ruins, the wooden structure apparently covered with moss and creepers. Khushi looked around, scared, panting. The last thing she needed right now was a snake waiting to surprise her. He Devi Maiyya, raksha karna, she chanted silently.

ASR halted by the gazebo. She must be here, he knew. Taking shelter from the predator would be the first priority of the prey, and what better shelter than the wooden structure where he used to play with Di while his mother potted plants?

He peered in to the darkness. Yes, in the right corner….he could see a glimpse of white…. 

Why had he stopped running? Why was he looking towards the gazebo? Was he walking towards her?

Khushi’s heart quailed.

Khushi Kumari Gupta, you idiot! Kya karne chali thi, aur kya ho gaya? she cursed herself.

She watched him walking in to the gazebo, making his way towards her. She shut her eyes tight as though her blindness would make him blind too.

Arnav walked up to Khushi. He could make out her outline clearly. He moved closer to her till he could see her standing with her back pressed against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to draw in enough air to keep standing. Her eyes were tightly shut, and her hands were pressed against the smooth panel of the wooden wall.

He moved as close to her as he could, feeling his heart pick up the tempo of hers. He looked down at her face with deep delight. He had caught her. She was with him. At night, in the dark, just the two of them…like in his dreams. Wild jasmine and clumps of roses growing on unruly creepers covering the ruined gazebo filled the air with heady perfume. The cold air seemed to heighten their isolation from the rest of the world.

He bent his head and blew against her eyelashes.

The warm gust of air sent her eyelashes flying up. She looked in to his face with scared eyes.

“Khushi…” he whispered.

Khushi panted, her eyes trapped by his.

He lifted his hand to touch the creamy expanse of her cheek. Khushi’s heart leaped. She ducked and tried to run away.

At the very last moment, his hard, warm fingers caught hold of her slender arm and pulled her back against the wall.

“Now where will you escape off to, Khushi Kumari Gupta?” he growled in her ear, lowering his face to hers.

Wind blew her hair against his face, the silky, fragrant strands caressing the stern, lean, sharp features.

He breathed in deep, trying to inhale her, keep her within him, lock her in his heart, and throw away the key.

Khushi shuddered, more from the strange pleasure of his warm nearness and his musky scent than from the cold.

“Raizadaji…” she whispered.

He moved closer. “Trying to scare me, were you?” he asked, his hot breath stinging the fine hairs of her facial skin.

Khushi swallowed nervously, trembling. His presence near her was a torment she couldn’t bear for a moment longer.

 Her arms rose involuntarily, and tried to make a gap between their torsos. They pressed against the soft white T-shirt covering his hard, warm, muscled chest. She could feel his heart thudding beneath her fingertips. Her whole body trembled as though racked by fever.

He caught hold of her hands in a gentle but firm hold, and slowly lowered them to fall by her sides.

“You have much to learn about me, Khushi Kumari Gupta…” he drawled. “I never lose. I win, always.”

Defiant eyes rose to his amused, intent ones.

“The loser always has to pay a penalty, Khushi. What will you forfeit?” his soft utterance send a thrill of danger down her spine.

She tried to glare at him.

“I think…a kiss…” ASR decided.

Astonished eyes rose to his playful ones. “NO!” she cried.

“No?” he sounded disappointed. “OK. This time, I will let you off easy."

Khushi waited, her heart thumping madly.

“Call me Arnav.” he demanded.

“What?” Khushi yelped.

“My name. My name is Arnav, not Laad Governaar, not Rakshas, not any other pet name you come up with at regular intervals.” he said. “Call me Arnav.” he demanded.

“No.” She was stubborn.

Arnav nodded. “OK. We can remain here the whole night, like this, sharing body warmth, looking at each other….”

Khushi gulped. No, no. He Devi Maiyya!

“If your Buaji finds out that you have placed pillows in a line on your bed and dragged the covers over them to fool her….” he said, contemplatively, casually.

“Arnav…ji…” Khushi whispered quickly.

“What did you say? Theek se sunai nahi diya.” he said, his head cocked, his eyes dancing in delight.

Khushi pursed her lips in fury.

“Arnavji.” she whispered.

 ASR relaxed, his name on her lips sounding sweeter than honey to him.

Taking the opportunity, she pushed him away, and tried to escape.

He caught hold of her arm.

“I will take you home.” he said. “I don’t want you singing and scaring any other man tonight.”

Part 9 

O Re Piya (Flute version: karvachaut special)

Anjali phoned home.

“Nani, I have some good news for you!”

“Good news? Kaa he, Anjali Bitiyaa?” Nani asked, a smile on her face.

“Good newjjj? Saasumma, phonewaa speaker pe lagayi dio! Humka bhi sunne do yeh good newjjj! Anjali bitiyaa, are you comings home with my shopping list?” Mami asked.

“No, Mami. That is not the good news. Chotey has fallen in love!” Anjali’s glad laughter could be heard by Nani & Mami in Delhi.

“Chotey! Fallen in love?” Nani gasped.

“Saasumma, lagat he we heard Anjali Bitiyaa wrong. Hamre Arnav Bitwaa must have phallen (fallen) down! Kono banana peel tha phloorwaa (floor) pe, Anjali Bitiyaa? How ijj he now?” Mami asked.

Anjali chuckled. “Chotey has fallen in love with Khushi Kumari Gupta.”

“Devi Maiyya ki jai ho!” Nani prayed fervently.

“Khushi Kumari Gupta? Who ijj she?” Mami asked.

“Daughter of a halwai, and so beautiful, Mami, that you will stand staring at her if you see her.” Anjali smiled.

“Halwai?” Mami’s painted eyes widened as far as they would go. “Par hamra Arnav Bitwaa to diabetic he, Hello Hi Bye Bye!”

“Manorama!” Nani chided her with a smile.

“And she is not in the least scared of Chotey, Nani. She fights with him and argues with him as though both of them were in nursery!” Anjali laughed.

“Iss namoone ko dekhna hi hoga, Saasuma.” Mami said in wonder.

“Anjali Bitiyaa, we are coming to Lucknow tomorrow.” Nani began. “We can talk to her parents….”

“Not now, Nani. The thing is, Khushiji does not see Chotey as husband material yet. To her, he is Laad Governaar and Rakshas.”

Nani and Mami gasped.

“Let her fall in love with him. Then we can approach her parents.” Anjali said. “Give them one month.”

 After dissuading Nani & Mami from rushing to Lucknow, Anjali cut the call.

Nani said, “Manorama, after one month, what is the guarantee that she will fall in love with Chotey?”

“No guarantees, Saasumma. The more she knows Arnav Bitwaa, the more she will runs away.” Mami collapsed in a chair, fanning herself.

“Kya hua, Maasi? Chakki (chakkar) aa gaya?” NK asked, chips in his mouth, an open packet of chips in his hands.

Mami stared at him for a moment, her mouth wide open. 

Then she said, “Haan, chakki aa gaya. I am going to pees aata in it. Call Akass bitwaa from his room now, NK bitwaa. Jaldi.”

NK ran up the steps.

“Akash, Akash, come down. Maasi wants you to pees chakki in her aata! Come down.”

“What?” Akash pushed his specs further up on the bridge of his nose as he left his room to join NK. He looked down at his mother and grandmother. “What is wrong?”

“Akas Bitwaa, packs your bagswaa. Take this NK bitwaa too with you. Go to Lucknow now.” Mami declared.

“Why?” Akash was a study in confusion.

“Arnav Bitwaa has phallen in love with Khushi Kumari Gupta.” Mami began.

Akash almost swallowed his teeth. “Who? When? Why? Where?  I mean…what?”

“Bhat nahin, hau (how). Phind (find) out hau he fell in love, and learn from him. Then helps hamre Arnav Bitwaa get his girl.” Mami ordered.

“Manjuji, I won’t be able to come to work tomorrow. Aap please hamein maaf keejiye.” Khushi said, taking her eyes away for a moment from the cauldron of soup she was stirring, unaware that Laad Governaar’s brothers were travelling in her direction to help her fall in love with their brother.

Manju looked at the girl who had stolen ASR’s…no, Laad Governaar’s heart. Beautiful inside and out. Dressed simply in a pale green anarkali, she outshone every model dressed in designer bridal lehengas and expensive sarees. 

And she was a hard worker too. Manju was yet to hear a word of complaint from her about the long working hours or the backbreaking work she had to do or the new recipes and dishes and equipment she had to familiarise herself with.

Manju drew in a deep breath. Khushi could use a break.

“It is fine with me.” Manju said, a small smile on her lips. She turned away to check on the pie in the oven.

Khushi breathed a silent sigh of relief. One more day of not seeing the Laad Governaar would be a relief. She hadn’t laid her eyes on him after last night when he had dropped her home at the end of their midnight tryst, smiling at her with those eyes....

“Woh kya he, Manjuji, my friend, Preetho is getting married next week.” Khushi confided, smiling from ear to ear. “It is her mehendi and sangeet tomorrow. Jiji and I will go to Preetho’s house early in the morning and help Chachiji with the arrangements. Then we will have fun.”

Manju looked at the joy on her face. It was as though she were the bride! 

“Khushi, what about you? When are you going to get married?” Manju asked, her sharp eyes on the blush on Khushi’s face.

“Amma, Babuji, & Buaji will decide all that.” Khushi said, looking down in bashfulness.

ASR, you have your work cut out for you! Manju smiled inwardly. “Have you found a boy yet?” Manju asked. Never let it be said that she did not contribute to the tightening of the matrimonial noose around ASR’s neck. 

“Find a boy?” Khushi asked, her eyes wide and honest. “Why should I go and find a boy when I have my family to do all that for me?”

Manju looked at her.

“And anyway, Jiji is older than me. Her wedding will take place first.” Khushi smiled away to glory, looking in to the vat of bubbling soup.

So ASR, you are in the queue. Kripaya intezaar keejiye, till the said Jiji is off the shelf! Manju looked away to hide her smile.

“Manjuji, I think the soup is done. Shall I take it off the fire?” Khushi asked.

Manju nodded.

“Aap ko pata he, Preetho has a pet parrot…” Khushi began as she took a heap of vegetables and started peeling and dicing them.

The rest of the day was devoted to Preetho and her wedding. Manju heard and learnt more about Preetho than she knew about herself!

Arnav walked to the outhouse at noon the next day, missing Khushi like crazy. He had been so caught up in work yesterday, having to monitor the functioning of his Delhi office and ensure that work did not suffer due to his absence, that he had not been able to stop by the outhouse or summon her to his study. 

He walked in to see Manju Singh sitting in a chair, her feet up on a stool. Manju stood up as ASR approached her.

She saw his eyes darting here and there, trying to get a glimpse of his Khushi.

Before he could ask her for Khushi’s whereabouts, Manju began, “ASR, do you know Mittu?” Her face was serious as she pulled his leg.

ASR frowned. “No.”

Who was he? Some rival for Khushi’s affection? A local Romeo?

“You don’t know MIttu?” Manju was scandalised. “How can you stay in Lucknow and not know Mittu?”

ASR frowned, his eyebrows bunching together in rising fury. “Who the hell is Mittu?” Was he a paanwala or a halwai or a chudiwala…?

“Preetho’s pet parrot.” Manju smiled at him.

ASR’s face was a picture of confusion and rising anger. “Who the hell is Preetho?”

“A beautiful girl getting married next week.” Manju smiled.

“So?” ASR asked.

“So nothing.” Manju smiled. “Just that she is a friend of one of our employees, and our employee is on leave today to attend Preetho’s mehendi and sangeet. How could I refuse permission? I did right, didn’t I?”

“That’s fine.” ASR ratified her assent for the request for leave of absence, impatient. “Where is Khushi?”

Manju smiled, an evil light in her dancing eyes. “Having fun with Preetho and Mittu.”

“What the!” Arnav bit out. “Why did you grant her permission to leave me…I mean, stay away from her work? Why does she have to attend some girl’s mehendi and whatever? She should be here….” He sounded weird…even to himself.

“Nannav!” 

The call made ASR turn around in shock. NK & Akash were standing near the door of the outhouse, smiling at him. Anjali & Aman were right behind them.

As ASR stared at his brothers, they rushed to him and hugged him.

“Nannav, don’t worry. We are here to help you!” NK comforted him.

ASR frowned.

“Is this Khushiji?” NK asked slowly, pointing to Manju. “She is very beautiful, but… don’t you think she is too old for you?” he asked, a confused look on his face.

Anjali, Aman, & Manju guffawed.

“What the!” ASR hissed in to NK’s face. “That is Manju Singh, my canteen manager.”

NK pulled his ear. “Sorry.” he said in Manju’s direction.

Manju managed to nod, a difficult task when she was clutching her stomach and laughing.

“What the hell is going on, Akash? What are you doing here?” ASR asked, his face stern.

“Bhai, Dadi & Mate want us to help you get Khushiji.” Akash smiled happily.

ASR looked at his brothers and then at Anjali’s smiling face, his eyes wide in horror.

Akash & NK watched ASR measure the length and breadth of his study in quick strides. His fists were clenched, his jaw hard, his eyes spitting fury.

How dare she leave him and go away? How could she consider Preetho and Mittu’s claims on her time more important than his? Didn’t she know that he had been eager to see her, not having gotten even a glimpse of her yesterday?

 Anjali & Aman looked at each other and away to hide their intense amusement at the plight of the great ASR.

Finally, NK said, “Nannav, stop. You are giving me a headache!”

ASR turned fiery eyes on NK, ready to blast him till nothing of NK remained.

Anjali quickly intervened. “Chotey, why don’t you take Akash and NK Bhai around Lucknow, and introduce them to the Guptas?”

ASR stared at his Di, struck by her brilliant idea.

“Yes, ASR. It is only right that the Guptas should meet your brothers.” Aman said. “I mean, they will be reassured that Khushiji is working in a safe establishment where family values are promoted….” It was a battle not to burst out laughing.

ASR parked his car near Gomti Sadan, looking around with astonished eyes. It was evening. The entire street was decorated with marigold flower chains and rows and rows of lights. The house next to the Guptas’ was decorated like a bride, and men and women were walking in and out of the haveli. Loud laughter, music, and chatter could be heard.

ASR dragged his eyes from the festivities and led his brothers in to Gomti Sadan.

Buaji and Garima were on their way out of the house, pulling the door close behind them. They turned to see Arnav standing in their courtyard with two other boys.

“Arnav Babua! Aap yahan?” Garima was delighted.

“Come inside, Nandkisore!” Buaji made to open the door.

“No, it is fine. We will visit another time.” ASR said, stepping back.

“How did she know my name?” NK asked Akash, astonished.

ASR quickly introduced his brothers to Buaji & Amma, who pinched their cheeks.

“Hai Re Nandkisore, he is sweet like jalebi!” Buaji praised an NK who was rubbing his bruised cheek.

“And he is so handsome!” Garima praised Akash with all the fervour of a mother with no sons.

“Ram, Laxman, & Bharat! What a jodi, Nandkisore!” Buaji praised them as Arnav & Akash blushed.

NK looked around to see who those men were. Were they the Guptas’ neighbours?

“Bitwaa, why don’t you come with us to our neighbour’s house?” Garma invited them. 

“Oo kaa he, Bitwaa, Preetho is having her sangeet now.” Buaji inclined her head towards the house next door. “Payaliyaa and Titliyaa are already there. Sasi Babua will come there later from his shop. Let’s all go there and watch the dances.”

“Yes, yes. I want to see Kh…” NK said, only to be stopped by Akash stamping him on his foot.

“Ouch! Akash! What is wrong with you? I just….” NK protested.  Akash pinched him to silence him.

The need to see Khushi overcame his manners and his dislike of crowds. Arnav nodded.

Buaji and Garima led the boys to the house next door.

On the way, Buaji asked Arnav, “Bitwaa, Titliyaa is not causing you any problems, is she?”

He had to bite back a smile as he said, “No.” A vision of her running away from him, the hem of her white sari around her shins, flashed through his mind.

“Nandkisore ki jai ho!” Buaji raised her eyes heavenwards. “Oo kaa he, Bitwaa, who thodi sanki he na, isliye I worry about her all the time. You keep an eye on her always, Bitwaa.” Buaji requested ASR.

“Always.” ASR said, his heart thuding fit to deafen him.

Buaji looked at Garima who was staring at the lights and the decorations with wide eyes.

“Garima, soon our house too will look like this. Both Payaliyaa and Titliyaa will get married soon.” Buaji comforted her.

Garima nodded. “Haan, Jiji.”

ASR paled. “Their…their weddings are fixed?” he asked, his voice low.

Buaji smiled. “No, Bitwaa. But we are looking for boys for them. Good boys from backgrounds similar to ours….”

ASR felt his heart settle back in position. He would have to move fast. Very fast. There was little time to be lost.

Buaji & Garima were greeted with great love by Preetho’s parents. They extended a warm welcome to the three boys when Buaji introduced them as Khushi’s employer and his brothers.

Suddenly, music blared from the loudspeakers, almost deafening all of them. Preethos’ mother waved them in.

Arnav walked in to a courtyard with a stage erected in the centre. Children and ladies were seated all around the stage.

As he watched, Khushi, Payal, and four other girls took the stage, three of them dressed as boys, with exaggerated moustaches and turbans.

Khushi, Payal, & another girl were in lehengas, the cholis decorously covering their waists, the dupattas pinned to cover their bosoms. Khushi was in a red-blue lehenga, looking like a princess, the bright red of her skirt twirling around her. Her hair was in one plait, and jasmine flowers were threaded in to the tresses. ASR stared at her, his eyes and heart captivated by her beauty.

The popular Bhojpuri song, Lollipop, rent the eardrums of the audience.

Lagaweli jab lipistic, hilela yarra district
Tu, lagaweli jab lipistic, hilela yarra district
Zilla top lalelu
Komariya  kare lopa loap, lollipop lagelu

Khushi shook her hips in time to the music, and the ladies and the children clapped and hooted in appreciation. Arnav stared at her happy face, his eyes trapped by the glow on her face. The memory of the night he had seen her for the first time, lost in dancing, rushed through his mind.

Gaaliya pe baliya jhume
Muski pe jhumela tata

Her male partner touched the long earrings hanging from her ears, and Khushi laughed.

Gorakhpur devariya mein tohar
Book rahela sata

The boy kneeled on the ground, praising her. Khushi twirled around, laughing at him in the company of the other two girls.

Pahrelu tu jab nathuniya
Hilela paghuwa mohaniya
Chaka tu chaka chauk lagelu

Khushi did her thumkas, rolling her hips in time to music, sending ASR’s heart dancing along.

Komariya  kare lopa loap, lalipop lagelu

Khushi’s red skirt flowed around her legs as she danced in time to music. Red! His favourite colour! She looked beautiful in it, almost regal in its glory.

Ghaghra pa chapra hile
Boli pe chalela goli

Dupatta chalwawe katta
Mar karawela la choli

Khushi and the other two girls laughed as the boys praised their choli, patli kamar, their jawani…. ASR stared at her, lost in her antics.

Dekhike chadhal jawani
Hile Patna rajdhani
Malai baraf lage lu

Komariya  kare lopa loap, lalipop lagelu …..

The dance came to a rousing end, the crowd expressing their appreciation loudly. Children whistled, and the ladies laughed.

Buaji said, smiling, “Both girls are pagal!” Garima laughed in agreement.

Preetho’s  mother and father came to invite the crowd to have their dinner in the huge tent erected behind the house. Buaji and Garima invited the three boys to join them, and they moved towards the tent.

“Bhai, what was Khushiji wearing?” Akash asked, his face pale.

“Red lehenga and blue choli, with blue-red dupatta. Why?” ASR asked, his eyes tracing Khushi’s movement away from the stage.

Akash drew in a relieved breath. “The girl in yellow lehenga…Do you know who she is, Bhai?”

“Payal. Khushi’s Jiji. Why?” ASR asked directly.

“Nothing.” Akash blushed. “She is…very beautiful….”

ASR hid a smile, and looked around for Khushi. Yes, she was moving towards a room at the side of the house, maybe set aside for changing clothes.

“Nannav! I love Khushiji’s jhumkas.” NK smiled away, happy.

ASR looked at him. “When did you see her jhumkas?”

“When she jerked her hips like Bollywood actresses!” NK claimed.

Akash sighed, “Thumkas, NK Bhai, thumkas.”

ASR said, “You go ahead. I will join you shortly. Cover for me.”

“OK, Nannav, you naughty boy!” NK said.

“Theek he, Bhai.” Akash smiled, but ASR had already vanished.

Khushi looked at herself in the mirror. She was alone in the room.

 Jiji had torn the hem of her lehenga, and had gone in search of Buaji & Amma for help.

She had helped the girls dressed as boys to remove their moustaches and turbans, and now they had all left.

Khushi wiped away the red lipstick and the rouge from her cheeks. Then she moved towards the door of the changing room with eager steps, keen not to miss out on dinner or any of the coming dances.

A hand shot out of the darkness and pulled her in to a corner.

Khushi gasped. She looked up to see the Laad Governaar’s stern face looking down at her.

A frown of confusion replaced the look of shock.

“What are you doing here?” she asked directly, her fingers trying to prise his hard fingers away from her arm.

“Your Amma & Buaji invited us.” he replied.

“Acha?” Khushi asked, still perplexed. He didn’t even know Preetho. What was the khadoos, workaholic, insomniac rakshas doing at her sangeet? Anyway, it was none of her business. He could attend all the sangeets in Lucknow, one after the other, for all she cared. If only he had given this a miss! It was bad enough working with him….

“Please let go of my arm. Koi dekh lega. And it hurts.” she said, looking around nervously.

He loosened his hold, but refused to let go. He led her in to the changing room.

“Who asked you to take a day off? How dare you leave your job and go off to celebrate someone’s marriage?” he asked, his jaw clenched.

Khushi stared at him in wonder. “I took Manjuji’s permission. And it is a sangeet, not a marriage.” Khushi said reasonably.

“Whatever! You….”

“It maybe whatever to you, but to Preetho, it is important. It is sangeet, not marriage.” Khushi made her point clear.

“Sangeet, not marriage.” said a squeaky voice from its perch.

ASR & Khushi looked up. Mittu was sitting on a beam, looking down at them.

“Mittu!” Khushi’s call held a world of love.

ASR looked at her, wondering whether he had strayed in to a madhouse.

“This is Mittu, Preetho’s pet parrot.” Khushi introduced the pet to ASR.

ASR glared at it.

“I am Mittu, Mittu, pyaari Mittu…” the parrot carolled.

“Mittu, this is Arnav Singh Raizada, my employer.” Khushi introduced him to the parrot.

“Shaitan.” Mittu said clearly.

“What?” ASR asked.

“Nothing.” Khushi said, flustered. 

“Naak mein dam karke rakha he!” Mittu said.

Khushi paled. Trust Mittu to remember embarrassing things she had confided in her ear.

ASR turned his hot eyes on Khushi’s pale face.

Khushi looked away, unable to stand his intent gaze.

ASR twisted her arm behind her so that she was trapped. He pulled her close to him, her chest against his. She raised shocked eyes to his passionate ones.

“Chodiye hamein.” she whispered, trying to squirm her way out of his hold.

He pulled her closer against him. “Now what will you do?” he asked, his husky voice falling over her skin like a shower of tiny stars, his incendiary eyes swallowing her whole.

“Tel maalish! Champi! Champi!” sang Mittu.