114. Marrying Khushi (Part 21-)

Marrying Khushi: Part 21

All the ladies were sitting around Payal & Khushi, letting professionals apply mehendi to their hands and feet. 

Amma was running around serving cold drinks to the guests. Nani, Anjali, and Mami were having a wonderful time laughing at the jokes cracked by the neighbours and Buaji. 

“Payaliyaa, Khussi, let us see if your mehendi is dark or faded red. Tomorrow will tell us if your grooms love you or not!” Preetho’s mother teased.

All laughed.

"It will be dark red, Nandkisore!" Buaji said, chuckling. "Our damads are full of parem (prem) and mohabbat!"

Payal blushed and lowered her eyes. If the mehendi could show the depth of their divine love, then it would be very red indeed.

Khushi looked at Payal’s blushing face and then looked at her own hands that were being filled with the green-dark brown paste with horror. If the mehendi had to reveal the Rakshas’ love for her, then its lines would be invisible! Tomorrow, when Amma & Buaji inspected her hands, they would not see any colour at all! At the most, they would see 'What the!' written there!

“Their mehendi will be very red!” Anjali claimed smiling. “My brothers are not faint of heart!”

All laughed.

Nani said, “Don’t think that I am boasting because they are my grandsons, but you won’t get more loving husbands than them!”

“Aur naahi to kaa?” Mami added her mite. “Hamre Arnav bitwaa and Akass bitwaa will look after their wives as well as I look after my foreign-returned makeup kitwaa!”

“Just look at them!” Anjali sighed in joy. “Who will ever get more beautiful bhabhis?”

All looked at the brides, one eager and the other, not so eager!

(Khushi)

Anjali’s phone rang. It was NK.

“Di, this is sarasar anyaay! I will complain to the Sarokar that you are not letting men attend the mehendi!”

“Daroga, NK Bhai, not sarokar. Sarokar means ‘concern’.” Anjali sighed.

“It is out of concern that I am making a shikast (defeat)!” NK affirmed.

“Shikayat is the word for ‘complain’, NK Bhai! Please don’t kill Urdu after massacring Hindi!” she pleaded.

“Di, I will kill Urdu if you don’t let us attend the mehendi! Aap ko pata he, Akash is looking all sad and pale and Nannav, your pappad ka dukhda is marching along the hall…left…right…left…right!” NK declared.

“Whatever you say, I am not letting you men attend the mehendi, NK Bhai!” Anjali laughed.

NK pouted. “Di, you are so cruel! You have given me a Zukaam!”

"Kya?” Anjali frowned, trying to decipher the meaning. “I gave you a cold?”

“Cold?” NK asked. “How can a wound be cold?”

“Zakhm, NK Bhai, Zakhm!” Anjali sighed. This boy would drive her mad one day!

“Khushi bitiyaa, Payal bitiyaa, both of you look beautiful!” Nani complimented them.

“Bootiphool to hone ki padi, Sasumma! Aphter all, they have to compete with Manorama Raijjada!” Mami teased, adjusting her pink goggles on her nose.

Anjlai looked at both the girls with a naughty twinkle in her eye.

Payal and Khushi were in green lehengas, Khushi wearing a red choli and Payal a green one.

 (Payal)

Anjali quickly snapped pictures of the two brides getting their mehendi done on her phone and sent it to Chotey & Akash.

ASR looked at the photo. Khushi & Payal were sitting side by side. Two professionals were drawing designs with mehendi on their palms. Payal was blushing but Khushi looked pale. He swallowed.

Akash blushed as he looked at the photo. Payalji was looking so beautiful!

The lady asked Payal, “Which letter of the alphabet should I write on your palm?”

Payal blushed. “A.”

All the ladies laughed. 

“So she is going to make Akass bitwaa look for that 'A' on her palm on her wedding night!” laughed Nani.

“Write small!” Mami instructed the lady. “Let Akass bitwaa search all night!”

All laughed.

“Aur aap?” the lady asked Khushi.

“LG…no, R…no, S….” Khushi went through her collection of the choicest names for her groom.

The lady sighed, “Is it L, G, R, or S?”

Khushi opened her mouth to say LG, but paused.

So he was supposed to look for his name on her palm on their wedding night?

She looked at her palm.

If he saw Laad Governaar written there, would it hurt him? Especially as it would remain on her palm for days before finally fading away....

He was everything that she had called him in anger. Laad Governaar! Rakshas! Shaitan! But writing it on her palm!

She saw the ladies eagerly inspecting Jiji’s palm to see the 'A' etched there. They would look at her palm too. And if she wrote her name for him, they would see it, and he would be insulted.

 Moreover, why should these ladies know what she called him? It was between them! No one else had to know what went on in private between them!

Khushi said firmly, “Please write ‘Arnavji’ on my palm.”

The lady leaned towards her. “The longer the name I write, the easier it will be for him to find it out!” she whispered.

Khushi smiled at her in pity. “You don’t know my woh! He will find it even if you write one letter of the alphabet as small as you can make it! He is smarter than a ferret at ferreting out what you don’t want him to know!”

(ASR the naughty ferret)

The lady stared at her.

“You don’t worry. I know how to handle him. Aap ‘Arnavji’ likhiye. Baaki hum dekh lenge!” Khushi reassured her.

Part 22

“Di, how did the mehendi function go?” Arnav asked Anjali when she came to bid him good night.

Anjali hid her smile and said, “Very well. We had a lot of fun. Kash! If only you & Akash too could have joined us! And NK Bhai too! Otherwise he will phone me regularly spouting his Hindi & Urdu till I feel like choking the life out of him.”

ASR smiled slightly.

“Err…Amma & Buaji were happy?” he asked, turning away to look out of the window.

Anjali covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from giggling.

“I don’t know.” she replied.

ASR jerked around to stare at her in shock.

“I mean, I don’t know about Amma & Buaji! I was paying attention only to my bhabhis.” ASR’s sister smirked.

ASR flushed and turned to look out of the window at the night sky.

 

Anjali caught hold of his arm. “Chotey, I could read your mind even when you were too small to speak. Samjhe aap? Why don't you ask me what you really want to ask?"

ASR lowered his head.

"Khushiji was happy. The ladies were teasing her and Payalji. Both were looking very beautiful today, as you might have figured out from the picture I sent you.”

ASR tried to hide his face from her perceptive eyes. He knew that Khushi was unhappy. Maybe the ladies had teased her too much….

“Chotey, are you worried about something?” Anjali asked.

“No, Di. Just that Khushi & Payal will be leaving everything familiar to them to join us in Delhi….” ASR murmured.

Anjali hugged his arm. “So my Chotey has become capable of thinking about others? The credit goes to Khushiji!”

“Di!”ASR protested.

“Don’t worry, Chotey! Nani, Mami, Mama, & I will help them adjust. They will never feel lonely in RM.” Anjlai reassured him.

ASR nodded.

Khushi looked at her hands…and then at her sleeping Jiji’s hands. The mehendi on her sister’s hands and feet were red, but hers were….

A gentle knock sounded on her bedroom window. 

“Khushi…” The whisper reached her.

Who was calling her name at midnight? Khushi looked at the shut window with frightened eyes, clutching her knees close to her with hands decorated with mehendi.

Was it some bhoot? Some atma thirsty for blood? She swallowed hard, her throat dry with fear!

“Khushi!” the whisper sounded angry.

How did the ghost know her name? And why was the bhoot angry?

Her eyes widened in recognition. It was her own Rakshas, her steam engine on the boil, her dragon who  was spitting fire at her window!

Khushi jumped out of bed and ran to the window to unfasten it. She pushed the wooden panels open to see her groom standing there in his black shirt, black waistcoat, and black trousers.

“Khushi, tum theek ho?” he asked.

Khushi stared at him in wonder. “You came here at midnight to ask me if I am alright?” 

ASR looked away. 

“I am in my bedroom in my father’s house, Baba. I am sleeping with my Jiji. What can happen to me?” Khushi asked, perplexed.

ASR squirmed inwardly. Put that way, his actions looked rather incomprehensible, unreasonable, illogical, and downright silly! Absurd even!

“Move aside, Khushi. Let me come in.” ASR demanded.

Khushi moved, but asked, her hands on her hips, “Kya hua? Did you shout at Anjaliji? Did she get fed up of you and lock you out of Sheesh Mahal?”

He did not deign to give her an answer.

He looked at a sleeping Payal and  a dozing Mittu and tugged Khushi to the far end of the room.

“Kya he?” Khushi asked. “Have you come here at midnight to whisper some secret in my ear?”

“Khushi, show me your mehendi.” he demanded.

Khushi immediately put her hands behind her back. “No, you can see it only on our wedding day.” she declared.

A totally clueless ASR frowned, “What the!”

“Wedding night, actually.” Khushi explained. “You have to look for your name in the mehendi.”

“I do?” ASR asked.

“Yes.” Khushi lifted her chin in the air, smirking smugly.

“On our wedding night?” he confirmed.

“Yes, on our suhaag raat.” Khushi laughed at his ignorance.

“Crap! What a waste of time!” ASR exclaimed.

“Kya?” Khushi frowned, her air of superiority vanishing in a puff of smoke.

“Which idiot will spend half his wedding night looking for his name in his bride’s mehendi when he knows it? How silly!” ASR was genuinely baffled.

Khushi’s mouth fell open in one big Awww!

She brought her hands forward and planted them on her hips, girding her loins for a fight unto death.

“Silly he? Aap ko yeh ‘What a waste of time!’ lagta he?” she began, her eyes rolling.

ASR crossed his arms on his chest, all set to watch the fireworks.

“Silly aur waste of time is not looking for your name on my palm on our suhaag raat! It was sitting like a statue for the girl to draw the design on my arms and legs. It was having Amma feed me and Jiji because we could not use our hands. It was struggling to rub my nose against my shoulder when it started itching because I couldn’t ask Amma to scratch it for me!” she hissed.

ASR bit back his smile.

“It was sitting for hours with my arms and legs stretched out so that you can get a bride with perfect mehendi, not a smudged one. It was having Buaji apply some oil on all that mehendi creepers and flowers on my arms and legs as though the design were a plant that had to be watered!” There was no end to Khushi’s list of grievances!

“It was scrubbing away all that dirty brown paste away! It was worrying all day if my mehendi would be dark or pheeka! If it would be visible!” Khushi said, overpowered by a sense of injustice.

ASR frowned. “Why shouldn’t it be visible?”

“He Devi Maiyya! Why shouldn’t it be visible, he is asking me! After leaving me to worry all day, he is climbing in through my window at night and asking me why my mehendi would be invisible!” Khushi sounded very put upon.

ASR hid his smile. “Khushi…mehendi is supposed to leave colour wherever it is applied, isn’t it?” he asked reasonably.

“You…you…Arnav Singh Raizada! You don’t know anything! How do you run your textile shop in Delhi?”

ASR looked away to hide his laughter.

“I should have written Laad Governaar when I got a chance! Or Rakshas! Or Shaitan!” she mourned her lost chance.

“You didn’t?” ASR sounded surprised.

That was the last straw on the back of the camel named Khushi Kumari Gupta!

“How could I? All the women of the neighbourhood were here to examine the mehendi on the hands of the brides as though they have not seen mehendi before! Had I written….” She paused for breath.

“Had you written Laad Governaar…?” he asked, smirking.

“The ladies would have seen it. Your Naniji, Mamiji, and Di would have been so humiliated!” she sighed.

“Poor Khushi!” ASR smirked.

Khushi grit her teeth.

Mittu yawned and spread her wings. “Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikander!” she mumbled before dropping off again.

Khushi glared at the bird and then at ASR.

“Do you know how scared I was? Do you have any idea?” he voice wobbled.

“Khushi!” ASR was disconcerted. “Kya hua?” he caught her by her shoulders, gently, trying to comfort her.

“What if my mehendi was pheeka when they scrubbed it off?” she asked in a tear-filled voice.

“Why should your mehendi be pheeka, Khushi?” ASR asked, bewildered.

“Because…” she sniffed, “…because the depth of the colour is a reflection of the depth of the husband’s love for his wife….” Fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Khushi…” he pulled her close to him and hugged her.

“Preetho’s Amma said that they would inspect Jiji’s and my mehendi tomorrow to see how red they were. I knew that Jiji’s would be very red because Akashji unse bahut prem karte he…but…but…mine….I thought….” She dried her face by rubbing her cheeks against his conveniently placed shoulder and snuggled closer.

“Why did you think yours would be dull, Khushi?” His face was pale, and his hold around her secure.

“Because our marriage is not like Jiji’s.” she whispered.

ASR swallowed.

“Akashji wants to marry Jiji. You need to marry someone. Anyone. Any girl would do.” Khushi yawned and then cuddled closer to him.

“Khushi…” His voice didn’t sound like his own. “Any girl won’t do. Only you will do.”

 

“Because I am Jiji’s sister.” Khushi said.

“No. And before you say it, not because you are Buaji’s niece or your parents’ daughter…” ASR added, smoothing a tender hand down the fall of her hair.

“Then?” Khushi frowned at him from his arms.

ASR said softly, “Because...because you are Lucknow’s Jalebi Bai!”

Khushi scowled at him weakly.

“Because if I am a Shaitan, you are no less! If I am a Rakshas, you are one too!” ASR claimed.

Khushi pushed at him with her hands. He held her closer.

“Khushi…”

“Hhmmm….” She was half asleep, cradled in his powerful arms against his warm chest.

“Your mehendi is redder than your Jiji’s, isn’t it?” he asked softly.

Khushi whispered, “How did you know?”

“I know.”

There was silence for a few moments.

“Khushi….” he began.

There was no response. Khushi was fast asleep.

ASR smiled as he lifted her in his arms and gently laid her down beside Payal. Her fingers clutched the neck of his waistcoat, unwilling to let go of him.

He smiled as he freed himself from her hold. He looked at the hand he held. The mehendi was a dark red. 

Smiling, he dropped a kiss on her fingers, inhaling the pungent smell of the mehendi.

He bent down to kiss her cheek.

 Khushi smiled in her sleep.

Part 23

“Titliyaa, call Arnav Bitwaa and ask him when they will be reaching for sangeet, Nandkisore!” Buaji hollered. “Garima, did you change the covers of the cushions? Everything has to be ready by evening!”

Khushi threw the blanket over her head and pretended to be asleep. How could she call him after crying like  a baby and falling asleep in his arms last night? Khushi! Khushi! she cursed herself. How did she get to bed? He must have lifted her and dumped her here. What must he think of her?

“Titliyaa!” Mittu squeaked, flying down to sit on Khushi’s chest.

Khushi uncovered her face and glared at an unrepentant Mittu who tittered at Khushi’s disgruntled expression.

“No wonder Preetho did not take you to her sasural!” Khushi chastised Mittu.

The parrot flew away laughing to her safe perch.

“Titliyaa! Did you call Arnav Bitwaa? What did he say?” Buaji shrieked from the next room.

“Arnav Bitwa, Arnav Bitwaa! Jab dekho Arnav Bitwaa! Soon she will forget her Nandkisore and start chanting Hai Re Arnav Bitwaa!” Khushi muttered.

Mittu sang,  “Gunguna rahe he bhanware

Khil rahi he kali kali!”

Khushi sang, “Gali, gali… gali gali!

Zara dekho Mittu Rani

Gali will be your home soon if you talk nonsense!”

Khushi punched Arnav Bitwa’s number.

He picked it up on the second ring.

“Khushi?” His voice covered the distance with little trouble, sending her palms sweating.

“Woh…woh…” Khushi stammered.

ASR smiled.

 Khushi could hear him smirking at the other end of the line. 

She straightened her spine, drew in a deep shuddery breath, and said, “Don’t think that I wanted to talk to you. Woh…Buaji wanted to know….”

“What did Buaji want to know?” The smile made his husky voice more irresistible.

Khushi forgot!

“Woh…woh…” she fumbled. “What did Buaji want to know?” Khushi asked herself, thinking aloud.

He smiled.

“Haan! Buaji wants to know when you will be arriving for the sangeet.” She let out a sigh of relief that he could hear.

ASR smiled. “Six.”

“Ab phoone rakti hoon.” Khushi went to cut the call.

“Khushi!”

“Ji?”

“I saw your mehendi.” ASR whispered.

Khushi blushed.

“You look beautiful when you blush.” ASR murmured.

Khushi blushed some more as butterflies started doing kathak in her tummy.

“When you blush…” ASR paused.

Khushi waited. And then waited some more. 

Finally she asked crossly, “What?”

“When you blush, your cheeks….” his voice was low, beguiling.

“My cheeks?” Khushi sounded as breathless as she was.

“Your cheeks look red, bilkul like….” ASR paused, all seductive.

“Like?” her voice was almost too low to be heard.

“Like….Mittu’s beak!” ASR finished.

“Awww!” Khushi drew in a deep breath of shock, her mouth open.

ASR burst out laughing.

Khushi’s mouth fell shut at the sound of his laughter. 

She had never heard it before. He sounded like a carefree man… a boy almost…. A hand closed over her heart. An unwilling smile appeared on her lips. She stood holding the phone pressed against her ear till he finished laughing.

Finally, ASR managed to get his amusement under control.

“Khushi, see you at 6.” he said, smiling.

“Ji.” Khushi whispered before cutting the call.

A stage was built in the courtyard, and the Raizadas walked in through the arched entrance of Gomti Sadan to be greeted lovingly by the Guptas.

Preetho’s brother waved at ASR from a distance and shouted, “Jiju, we are setting up music for you to dance!”

ASR’s mouth fell open. “What the!” he managed to gasp.

“Chotey, it is your sangeet!” Anjali teased. “Thoda to dance karna hoga!”

ASR looked hunted.

“Bhai!” Akash whispered. “What will we do?”

“Dance! What else can you do?” NK teased. 

“No way!” ASR declared.

“Then we will do it this way!” NK proclaimed. “You two sit here, and watch me dancing with Payalji and Khushiji!”

ASR & Akash stared at him with cold eyes.

“I will be a Nandkisore surrounded by many Sitas…” Nk said dreamily.

Anjali hit her head with her hand. “Radhas, NK Bhai!”, she said

“Radhas are welcome too!” NK said outrageously.

Sasi Gupta led Arnav and Akash, Mamaji, Aman, & NK to their seats in the first row.  Nani, Mami, Anjali, Manju, and other guests from AR Designs were escorted to sit by them by Buaji and Garima.

“Dekhat he Lucknow mein kono aisen ladki he jo dancewaa ma Manorama Raijjada ki takkar ki ho!” Mami declared laughing as she settled in her seat.

Nani shook her head at her bahuriyaa’s boast. “Manorama, you are going to have two bahuriyaas now. Thoda to sharam keejiye!”

“I will sharam when my hair turns bhite (white), Saasumma!” Mami laughed.

“Then I will have to steal your imported hair dye, Manorama, that you asked Chotey to buy for you when he last went abroad!” Nani chuckled. 

Anjali and the other ladies laughed.

“Bhy (why) ijj it bery (very) dark here?” Manorama wondered.

Mamaji pulled her pink goggles off. “Gogglewaa pehenke poochat he, dark kyon he!” he laughed.

Mami laughed along with every one.

ASR looked at the unoccupied seat to his left. Where was Khushi? His eyes went along the courtyard seeking her.

“She will come.” Anjali whispered in his ear.

ASR flushed slightly.

“If she hasn’t thought better of marrying the ASR!” Manju innocently looked up at the darkening sky, hiding her smile.

ASR glared at her.

Anjali giggled. “My bhabhi is not a coward, Manjuji!” she laughed.

“She is not.” Manju smiled. “But she is the only girl on earth who will blow away a billionaire and his assets after giving him a piece of her mind if she gets angry.” she warned ASR indirectly. “Or hurt.”

ASR looked in to the direct eyes of his canteen manager whose professional association with him went back to the time he had set up business, who was familiar with his mood swings and his rage, and whose judgement of people was spot on.

Anjali looked at Chotey and at Manjuji’s silent communication anxiously.

Finally, ASR nodded, conceding Manju Singh’s point. He had to walk on eggshells, had to handle Khushi carefully lest she think better of marrying him.

Every thought flew out of his mind when he saw Khushi being led towards him by Buaji.

 She was wearing a red anarkali with gold embellishments. His breath sort of stopped somewhere in the region of his chest.

Amma led Payal in a dark blue anarkali to join Akash.

Buaji led Khushi to sit by Arnav. The flimsy dupatta of her red dress brushed against his arm as Khushi sank in to her chair.

She stole a glance at her Rakshas.

He was wearing a black sherwani. Aaj bhi black? she thought. Khud ka kapde ki dukaan he, and he is always dressed in black? Not that he didn’t look good. He did, always, but….

Khushi looked up at his face. He was looking fixedly at her.

Khushi frowned. Why was he staring at her?

Her eyes widened in horror. Maybe her bindi had slipped down and was now on her nose?

She leaned towards him confidingly, and asked, “Where is my bindi?”

ASR looked at her bewildered.

“Where is my bindi? Is it on my nose or cheek?” she hissed.

He looked at the parts in question. “No, no. It is on your temple.”

Khushi sighed in relief. “Then why were you staring at me?”

ASR smiled. “You look beautiful!”

Khushi looked at him, startled, for  a moment, and then flushed.

“Especially when you blush.” he added, enjoying  the rosy hue on her cheeks.

Khushi tried to frown at him. “I know. Because my cheeks look red like Mittu’s beak.”

“No.” he whispered. “Because your cheeks look red like the soft petals of a red rose.”

Khushi stared open mouthed at him, feeling that maybe her ears had gone on strike.

But worse was yet to come.

“Because your cheeks vie with the mehendi on your hands, each competing to be redder than the other.” His voice was very soft, meant only for her ears.

 Part 24

ASR watched NK & Buaji dance to Reshmi Salwar Kurta Jali Ka, his mouth open.

NK was the besotted lover following Buaji, praising her roop & her salwar!

Reshmi Salwar Kurta Jali Ka
Roop Saha Nahin Jaaye Nakhare Waali Ka…

Buaji pushed NK playfully, and he fell on the floor, unable to withstand the strength of her arms.

Ja Re Peecha Chhod Mujh Matavali Ka
Kahe Dhundhe Rastha Kotvali Ka….

ASR turned his head to look at Khushi. She was clapping her hands and laughing merrily, sharing her amusement with her Jiji seated near by.

“Poor Nanheji!” she giggled.

ASR looked down to hide his smile.

Mamaji took the microphone behind the curtain.

“Dear deviyon aur sajjanon, in the khushi of our nephew, Arnav marrying Khushi Bitiyaa and our son, Akash marrying Payaliyaa, my wife and I are going to present before you the timeless classic, ‘Pyaar Kiya To Darna Kya’.”

All applauded.

Mami snatched the mike from him and said, “But remixed!”

Loud music filled the courtyard. Sasi Gupta almost had a heart attack when he saw Mami in her modern anarkali roop and Mamaji as Salim. Anarkali was wearing sunglasses, and her cap with a feather in it was placed rakishly on her head.

Maine kali ka dil nahin toda, Maine kali se muh nahi moda… Mamaji claimed.

Love ke liye apna sab kuchh chhoda

Main toh kali ka dewaana, mere yaar....

Mami preened.

Main toh kali pe apna dil gaya haar

Main toh kali se karna chaahun ikraar

Chaahe junvaar do lambi lambi dewaar…..

Mamaji Salim kneeled at the feet of his Manno-Anarkali!

Maan gaye mughal-e-azam, ishq mein dooba yeh aalam…

 

Jab what, jab come on, jab chalana, jab kab…

Mami crooked her finger at Mamaji, & he went following her like an obedient puppy.

The guests guffawed at the performance of Payaliyaa’s saas & sasur, envious that the girls were going to a jolly family that knew how to let down their hair.

Jab pyar kiya toh darna kya,

Jab pyar kiya toh darna kya

Pyar kiya koi chori nahi ki

Chup chup life mein jeena kya? Mami asked.

Akash sat, absolutely gobsmacked at the dancing skills of his parents. Khushi & Payal clutched their tummies that ached from laughing too much. Nani chuckled at her son & bahuriyya’s performance. NK cheered them on.

Buaji almost fell off the chair laughing at Mamaji and Mamiji. She whispered in Arnav’s ear, “Your whole family is very mazzakiya, Nandkisore!”

ASR smiled, stealing a look at Khushi’s happy, laughing face.

"Our Sanka Devi will fit in just fine!" Buaji laughed.

Arnav smiled in agreement.

The show ended, and many guests were seen to accost Mamaji & Mamiji to congratulate them.

Mittu whistled loudly!

After the furore died down, Preetho’s brother called out, “Arnav Jiju, Akash Jiju, it is your turn now!”

ASR looked at Akash.

His face was pale. “Bhai..” he quivered.

Payal looked at Akash with empathy.

Khushi looked at ASR with a naughty challenge in her eyes. “Now what will the Rakshas do?” she asked softly, lifting a brow in question.

ASR looked in to her eyes with intent ones.

The first lines of Main Rang Sharbaton Ka filled the air.

 

Khwab hai tu,
Neend hun main…
Dono mile,
Raat banein…

“Akash…” ASR instructed.

Akash stood up.

Roz yahi,
Maangu dua…
Teri meri, baat banein…
Baat banein…

Khushi found herself pulled by her arm to join ASR on the stage. Akash tugged Payal along with him and joined them to loud applause.

“Kya…kya kar rahe he aap?” Khushi asked, furious. He was not supposed to drag her in to it! She had planned with Preetesh to give the Bhootnath this song to stump him, and here he had trapped her!

The male singer sang, 

Main rang sharbaton ka,
Tu meethe ghaat ka paani…
Main rang sharbaton ka,
Tu meethe ghaat ka paani…

Akash held Payal decorously like a good boy, his right hand placed gingerly on her waist, and his left holding her right. Payal placed her left hand on his shoulder, blushing away. They swayed gently in time to the music.

ASR looked deep in to the shocked liquid pools of Khushi's eyes, his eyes speaking to her. She turned away to escape his eyes. Khushi, tum kahan phas gayi? she asked herself.

He caught her hand, and twirled her closer to him.

Mujhe khud mein ghol de toh,
Mere yaar baat ban jaani….

Holding her pressed against his length, trapped in his strong, muscular arms, he looked down at her face, noting her breathlessness, her panic, her helpless reaction to his proximity….

Rang sharbaton ka,
Tu meethe ghaat ka paani…
Main rang sharbaton ka.
Tu meethe ghaat ka paani…

“Arnavji…” she whispered, the murmur lost in the sound of the music. But he could hear her; he could trace the movement of her plump, pink lips as they formed his name….

 “Hhmmm?” he asked. Khushi’s eyes were caught by the mild vibration of his throat muscles.

Mujhe khud mein ghol de toh,
Mere yaar baat ban jaani…

She tried to leave him, her heart unable to bear the weight of such sensory overload, her limbs refusing to support her….

Rang sharbaton ka,
Tu meethe ghaat ka paani…
Main rang sharbaton ka,
Tu meethe ghaat ka paani…

He trapped her hand in his, stopping her.


O yaara tujhe pyaar ki,
Baatiyan kya samjhava…
Jaagke ratiyaan roz bitawaan,
Isse aage ab main kya kahun.
O yaara tujhe boldi aakhiyaan,
Sadke jawaan…
Maang le pakiyaan aaj duawaan,
Isse aage ab main kya kahun…


 

Khushi stood facing away from him. ASR moved closer to her, and stood with his front pressed against her back, his face against hers, his stubbled, rough cheek against her soft one….

She quivered like a trapped bird in his arms, and slowly turned her face to look in to his incendiary eyes.


The female singer sang,

 Maine toh dheere se,
Neendon ke dhaage se,
Bandha hai khwab ko tere…

How did the singer know about her dreams of the fiend who tempted her with his bare chest? Khushi wondered, swallowing through a dry throat.

Main na jahaan chahun,
Na aasmaan chahun,
Aaja hisse mein tu mere…

Yes, he was in her hissa! Now the problem was what to do with him!!! Khushi thought, jumping as his hand sneakily crept to her waist, leaving behind a trail of fire.
Thank God for the anarkali, she thought. If it had been a sari, she would have had to carry the imprint of his fingers on her waist all her life like a brand!

The man sang,

Tu dhang chahaton ka…
Main jaise koi naadani....

Her Laad Governaar's  lips brushed her ear.

Khushi almost fell down. ASR gathered her closer to him, using her weakness as an excuse.

Tu dhang chahaton ka….
Main jaise koi naadani....

Khushi tried to move away, but ASR was in no mood to let her go. He pulled her close to face him, her chest against his, his hand on her waist, his left hand trapping her right one, forcing her left hand to clutch his shoulder and to hang on for life!

Mujhe khud se jod de toh,
Mere yaar baat ban jaani…
Rang sharbaton ka,
Tu meethe ghaat ka paani.

In a seductive and wicked imitation of the tame dance that Payal & Akash were doing, ASR nudged Khushi with his legs and hips and made her move in time to the music.

Main rang sharbaton ka,
Tu meethe ghaat ka paani....

The female singer sang,

Tere khayalon se,
Tere khayalon tak,
Mera toh hai aana jaana…

Khushi tried to look away, to hide the weakness in her eyes from him. How did the girl know that her head was stuffed with thoughts of this demon?

Mera toh jo bhi hai,
Tu hi tha tu hi hai,
Baaki jahaan hai begana…

She was going mad, Khushi decided. The baaki jahaan in the song would haul her to the pagalkhana in Agra for swift treatment if she continued to moon over the muscles pressed against her soft bosom….

The man sang,

Tum ek musafir ho,
Main koi raah anjaani…

ASR pulled the squirming Khushi closer to him, using his legs to trap hers, to guide her swaying movements. She fell against him forgetting that they were on a stage, surrounded by all her mamas and chachas and chachis and mamis and bhaiyyas and jijis….

Tum ek musafir ho,
Main koi raah anjaani…

Khushi’s arms went around the rakshas, clinging on to him, to his warmth, to his familiar scent, to his safe, hard length…

Mann chah mod de toh,
Mere yaar baat ban jaani…

His hot breath brushed against her forehead, and Khushi shivered in the cool air….

Rang sharbaton ka,
Tu meethe ghaat ka paani…

She lifted her face to look at him. His hot eyes devoured her, slipping down to focus on her parted lips.

Main rang sharbaton ka,
Tu meethe ghaat ka paani.
Mujhe khud mein ghol de toh,
Mere yaar baat ban jaani…

Khushi panted, feeling his gaze like a touch, feeling her lips tremble in response….

Rang sharbaton ka,
Tu meethe ghaat ka paani…

The audience went wild with appreciation, applauding till their arms were in danger of falling off. Watching the dance had been like watching a Bollywood movie, full paisa wasool!

Khushi looked at her Laad Governaar and at the crowd, her eyes wide in shock! What had she done just now? Hugged her Rakshas in the presence of all her relations and friends? On a stage? In the full glare of a thousand lights?

Thank God the song had not gone on for a few more minutes, or she would have stood there and enjoyed it when he gave chumban on her cheeks…or her nose…or…or her lips….

Khushi moved away from the dangerous devil, taking rapid steps away from him. He smirked as he followed her.

Khushi almost ran to her chair and fell in to it, deaf to the praise being showered on all four dancers. As she tried to draw a deep breath, her Laad Governaar slipped in to his seat by her.

Her breath hitched and she choked.

ASR leaned closer to rub her back, but Khushi jumped up from her chair. “Pani…” she gasped and beat a hasty retreat from his touch and proximity.

Avoiding as many guests as she could, smiling at all the people who called out words of encouragement, Khushi took refuge in the kitchen.

She gulped down one glass of cool water, dumped the glass on the table nearby, and put her hand on her heart that was thumping madly. What had happened to her? she wondered. How could she have forgotten that she was dancing in the presence of hundreds of guests, her family…. She hit her head with her hand.

“Khushi!” The call was soft.

Khushi jumped.

He looked down at her flustered face with serious eyes.

Khushi stared at her rakshas, feeling the very air in the kitchen thicken, prevent her from drawing in much needed air….

ASR moved in with the swiftness of a snake.

His hot lips brushed against hers, first gently…and then hard…

After a few moments, he lifted his head to look down at her flushed face, the trembling lips, her shut eyes….

“Khushi…”

Her lashes lifted.

“Your lips are like the petals of a rose…a red rose….sweet…” he whispered, the last words breathed against her lips.

Part 25

A few moments later, Khushi lifted her lashes to look at him with dazed eyes.

His eyes were filled with a possessive light as he looked into her eyes and her lips.

She parted trembling lips, wanting to express her confusion to him, but not knowing what to say.

“Don’t ask me, ‘aap ye kya kar rahe he?’” he whispered.

Khushi was silenced.

He ran a gentle finger down her cheek to her lips. Her lashes fell to cover her eyes. Their breaths came in spurts, and their hearts pumped blood furiously through their arteries….

His finger touched the seam of her lips and his head lowered to taste their addictive sweetness once more….

“Titliyaa!” Buaji hollered.

Khushi jumped. Arnav lifted his head.

“Where is this girl, Nandkisore! Missing on her own sangeet! What will poor Arnav Bitwaa do with her in Delhi, I don’t know!” Buaji muttered as she looked for her misplaced niece.

Khushi pushed ASR in to a dark corner of the kitchen, and stepped forward in to the light.

 “Buaji, I…I am here!”

Buaji sighed in relief. She pulled Khushi’s ear. “Where did you vanish off to, Nandkisore? I thought dacoits had kidnapped you! Not that even Phoolan Devi would dare!”

“Woh….woh..I came t...to the kitchen to drink water, Buaji….” her voice trailed off.

“Thank God Arnav Bitwaa too is not in his seat! He must have gone to phone somebody. Otherwise he would have wondered what kind of a girl he is going to marry, Nandkisore! Hum kahe det he, Titliyaa! This kind of irresponsible behaviour won’t do now. You are going to be a wife and bahuriyaa!”

Khushi nodded meekly. How could she tell Buaji what her ‘poor Arnav Bitwaa’ had been up to in the kitchen a few minutes back?

“Chalo, come and sit down in your seat. Devyaniji and Nandkisore bitwaa are going to dance now.” Buaji dragged her niece along with her.

Saree ke fall sa

Kabhi match kiya re!

NK danced around Nani.

Kabhi chod diya dil

Kabhi catch kiya re!

Nani’s thumkas sent the crowd roaring.

Touch kar ke, touch kar ke
Touch kar ke, touch kar ke
Kahan chal di bach kar ke

NK tried  to keep Nani with him by holding on to her pallu, but she whisked it away from him, a disdainful look on her unlined face that belied her age….

Khushi looked at the empty seat by her side, wondering where her devil was. Must be skulking in the shadows, the bhootnath!, she thought, planning new ways to make her lose her hosh and chain and neend!

Her lips tingled.

Had he really….? Had she let him…? What was happening to her? Was this marriage? Did all boys and girls….?

ASR slipped in to the seat by her.

Khushi felt her breath stop. She quickly withdrew the arm she had placed on the armrest, and fixed her eyes on the couple on stage.

Don’t look at him, Khushi! Don’t turn your head! she told herself.

ASR looked at a Khushi who was sitting straight in her seat as though someone had inserted a stick in to her backbone, staring fixedly at the stage, pretending not to have noticed him… and smiled possessively.

She was his… now, no paanwaala could take her away from him…all chudiwale, channewale, paanwale etc could look elsewhere for a bride!

Under the cover of darkness, ASR clasped Khushi’s hand in his, caressing her trembling fingers with his warm ones.

“Chodiye hamein!” she hissed.

“Not in this lifetime!” he said, determination coating his words.

Khushi glared at him, looking around, fearful that someone would see her Akhdoo Singh Raizada behaving in this shameful manner!

After sangeet and dinner, the guests left reluctantly. The Raizadas bid a fond goodnight to the Guptas and prepared to leave for Sheesh Mahal.

Akash said, “Payalji, shubh raatri! I will see you for haldi!”

Payal nodded, smiling bashfully.

“No, you won’t, Akash!” Anjali teased. “Boys & girls have their haldi at two different venues! Sorry!”

Akash looked like a boy who had lost his favourite toy!

 “Di!” he whined.

Anjali, Nani, Mami, NK, Buaji, Amma, & Babuji laughed.

“Khushi!” ASR murmured.

Khushi had to look at him.

“I will see you….on haldi.” he said, his voice low.

“No!” she hissed.

“Yes.” he insisted, a wicked smile in his eyes.

“Besharam kahin ka!” Khushi said, glowering at him.

“Whose fault is that?” he advanced towards her.

Khushi looked at their relations standing by them, engaged in casual chitchat. She rolled her eyes at him, trying to warn him to behave decorously.

But as decorum and ASR were sworn enemies, he walked to stand as close to her as possible.

Khushi stared at him, scared, wondering what he would do now.

He bent his head and kissed her on her soft, scented cheek, his hard, warm lips searing her tender skin.

The Raizadas and the Guptas looked at them in silence, hiding smiles at Khushi’s shock and ASR’s possessiveness.

Part 26

Piya 

 

As the Raizadas moved towards the arched door to leave after Sangeet, Nani said softly to Buaji and Garima, “Please don’t mind Chotey behaving so…so familiarly with Khussi bitiyaa…. He is not like that with others….”

“Hum jaanath he, Nandkisore!” Buaji set Nani’s mind at peace. “Arnav Bitwaa speaks little, but he is very sanskari and loving.”

“It is a miracle that he likes Khussi so much!” Garima finally voiced her astonishment at the turn of affairs. “I mean, Payaliyaa is a gem of a girl. Heera he! It is not surprising that Akass Bitwaa wants to marry her. But our Khussi! Pagal he!”

“Bilkul Sanka Devi he!” Buaji corroborated Garima’s words. “I always used to say that only a pagal will come to marry her.” she laughed.

“Lagat he apan Chotey  is also thoda pagal!” laughed Nani. “I have never seen him like this before, not once in 28 years.”

“Woh Titliyaa se bahute parem karat he, Nandkisore!” Buaji remarked, sighing in relief. “It is good that Arnav Bitwaa is so…so active in his love. If he were hesitant like Akass Bitwaa, then our Sanka Devi would still be playing gilli-danda with the children and fighting with them for kanche (marbles) as the wedding arrived at her doorstep.”

The ladies laughed.

Mami, who had been listening to this conversation said, “Don’t worry, ladijj (ladies). If hamre Arnav Bitwaa goes ahead at this isspeed (speed), soon your Sanka Devi will have a small Titliyyaa in her arms. Then she can play with her own dollwaa....” she laughed. 

 Nani and the Gupta ladies could only guffaw.

Khushi rolled away, turning her face away from her Jiji, hoping that he sister would go to bed and sleep like a good girl without disturbing her.

She had much to think about. That Arnav Singh Raizada was eating in to her peace and putting her in the way of an imminent heart attack! What could she do with this man?

If this was the way he went on when he got a few minutes alone with her, then what would he do to her when he got her to his house after their shaadi? Khushi swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of his lips on hers….

“Khushi!” Payal was in the mood to confide in Khushi.

Khushi shut her eyes tight pretending to be asleep, hoping Jiji would desist from waking her up.

“Khushi, ud na!” Payal was persistent. She caught hold of Khushi by her shoulder and shook her.

Khushi opened her eyes. There was no escape now. 

“Yes, Jiji?” she asked.

Payal hugged her.

“Khushi, today was beautiful, wasn’t it?” Payal blushed.

Khushi looked away. It was better that she remained silent. If she started speaking, there was no guarantee that Jiji’s wedding would take place!

“Akashji and Arnavji danced with us… Khushi, did you ever dream that we would get such husbands?” Payal’s head was firmly in the clouds. Stars shone from her eyes.

“No.” Khushi could honestly say that.

“And, Khushi, Akashji held my hand…” Payal mooned over her beau.

Khushi frowned. That was all Akash Jiju had done so far? Then why was this…this walking talking dil ki bimari giving her chumban left, right, and centre?

“Khushi, what did you feel when Arnavji gave you chumban on your cheek?” Payal asked in a whisper.

Khushi swallowed. How to put the fire and the dhak dhak and the acidity in words? And was it even legal to feel like this when his lips touched her cheek?

“And tomorrow it is our haldi…and then shaadi…” Payal murmured.

Butterflies attacked her innards with vengeance. Khushi clutched the pillow to her tummy and shut her eyes, tight.

 

Mittu yawned and settled on her beam to snore.

Payal too stifled a yawn. All the dancing and excitement had worn her out. Slowly, her lashes fell over her dream-filled eyes, and Payaliyaa slipped in to deep slumber, dreaming of her spectacled lover smiling shyly at her as she washed bucket after bucket of dupattas.

Khushi was not similarly blessed. She turned from left to right, and then back to lie on her left side. What was the magic the Dilliwala kapdewala had done on her? Why could she feel his eyes on her as though he were touching her? Why did her skin feel as though a thousand thorns were pricking her when he sat close to her? Why did she tremble when he touched her? Why did she feel hot, feel heat emanate from her skin pores when he touched her, even held her hand? And when he gave chumban on her lips….how could he make her forget where she was, what she was…. What was happening to her?

Khushi sat up, agitated.

He must he doing some jaadu-tona to take over her mind! Otherwise how could he have such a hold on her?

She walked the length and breadth of her room, worrying, thinking furiously, wondering how she could resist his magic till she collapsed on her bed in exhaustion.

It was dark…eerie…the kind of night that beckons ghosts to abandon their graves and walk without. The vast expanse of sand as far as the eyes could see, the havan kund in the sand, a magician in black sitting before the fire and chanting….

Khushi felt her feet leading her towards him. His chants were too powerful to resist. She could feel his power even at this distance. Slowly, placing one foot after the other in the warm sand, she moved towards him, drawn by his power, his charisma, caught in the web of his magic…

The wizard was in black, loose-fitting clothes, with a black cloth tied over his head, leaving only his face exposed. Khushi’s legs faltered as the strong lines of his stern face looked familiar to her.

The jaadugar threw some powder in to the fire and chanted some mantra.

The small fire in the havan kund became a conflagration, lighting up the face of the sorcerer. It was Arnav Singh Raizada!

Khushi’s legs gave up. She fell on the sand on her knees, feeling the flowing skirt of her red lehenga billow around her.

The Rakshas lifted his eyes from the fire and looked at her, his eyes red and dangerous, determined and fiery, more fiery than the fire raging before him.

“You came…” His whisper sent shivers down her spine as his voice caressed her skin like a touch.

“I…I had to….” Khushi whispered. “What spell have you cast on me?”

The Shaitaan smiled victoriously. “A spell that can steal your mind, your dreams, your sleep, your heart…and your body….” his low voice claimed every inch of her as his.

“No!” Khushi pleaded.

“I own you, body and soul. Every breath of yours is mine. Every thought in your head, every moment you live on this earth, every beat of your heart….You are mine. My slave.” His eyes blazed in triumph and intense possessiveness coloured his voice.

“No!” she protested.

“Give up the fight, Khushi.” he smirked. “My presence unnerves you, my touch holds you in thrall, my eyes unclothe you, my fingers send trails of fire to burn your skin….” he drawled. His eyes seemed to devour her.

Khushi gasped. How did he know all these about her?

He stood up, the silky flowing folds of his gown trailing behind him. He circled the fire and walked towards her, his determined feet slowly but surely eating up the distance between them. Her eyes remained on his feet, watching the approach of her doom, helpless, unable to lift a finger to help herself….

His feet came to a stop near her.

Khushi ran her eyes from his masculine feet, up his long, muscled legs, his waist, his muscled chest barely contained by the black silk of his tunic, his strong neck, his chin, his sinful lips, his jutting nose, his eyes…his burning eyes….

As she watched, he bent down. 

Khushi trembled, flinching away.

He gathered her in to his arms, the muscles bulging at the exercise.

He held her close to his heart, her own heart pounding against his. His eyes looked in to hers, reading her unwilling fascination for him. The heat of his skin scorched her, his hot breath fell against the cool skin of her face and charred her. Her dazed eyes looked at him, wondering, expecting his next movement towards her….

He lowered his head to capture her trembling pink lips with his resolute ones.

Khushi fell out of bed and lay there beating her arms and legs in air. “Nahiiii…., nahiiii…..! Chodiye hamein!”

“Khushi! What are you doing on the floor?” Payal asked, her eyes bigger than saucers, her wet hair wrapped in  a thin towel.

“Floor?” Khushi sat up, looking around for the sand and the night and the fire and the…and the jaadugar…. “Where is he?”

“Kaun?” Payal asked, perplexed.

“The jaadugar?” Khushi asked.

“Jaadugar?” Payal asked. “Khushi, were you dreaming again? Tum bhi na!”

Khushi looked at the ruby ring on her finger, the ‘Arnavji’ written on her palm. Her lips trembled. She had imagined him…he had vanished like a mirage….

Mittu sang, preening,

Jadugar saiyan chhodo mori baiyaa,
Ho gayi aadhi raat, ab ghar jaane do….

“Mittu, chup!” Khushi ordered, getting up from the floor, rubbing her bruised back.

Payal shook her head in loving exasperation and left the room.

Chupke, chupke raat din

Aanso bahana yaad he….

Mittu danced on her beam.

Khushi took a paperweight and threw it at the laughing bird. She flew away and found another perch. The paperweight fell harmlessly on to the bed.

Hum ko ab tak aashiqii ka…

Woh zamaanaa yaad hai….

Mittu got her own back, sitting safe up near the roof.

Khushi glowered at her. This was all Arnav Singh Raizada’s fault! How dare he invade her dreams? She lifted her clenched fists in air and growled in frustration, “Grrrr…” If she could get hold of him now, she would beat him to pulp!

“Kaa hua, Titliyaa? Are your arms hurting, Nandkisore?” Buaji asked, seeing Khushi stand with her arms in air.

“No..no, Buaji. I am fine.” Buaji’s medicinal potions were slightly…only slightly better than bitter poison. She did not need her kadda  after a sleepless night, the highlight of which was a nightmare about the evil magician!

Garima followed Buaji in to the room. “Where is Payaliyaa? Payaliyaa! Payaliyaa!” she hollered.

Payal came in. “Kya hua, Amma?”

“Sit down, both of you. We need to talk to you.” Garima said.

Khushi looked at Payal sitting next to her. What did Buaji and Amma want to talk about? Everything had already been decided, the menu, the decorations, the band, the clothes…. Now what was left?

“Payaliyaa, Titliyaa…” Buaji began. “you are going to get married in two days, Nandkisore!”

“You will be far away from us, bitiyaa… We won’t be able to help you if you get in to some trouble at your sasuraal.” Garima lamented.

Payal looked at Khushi. Apparently this talk was for Khushi's benefit.

“You have got a very good family, Nandkisore! And good boys! You are both lucky.” Buaji smiled in relief.

Khushi pursed her lips. Buaji didn’t know what her Arnav Bitwaa got up to in the dark hours of the night! Good boy! He? Maybe when he was asleep and unconscious!

“Don’t fight with your in-laws.“ Garima advised. “Think of them as your own family. Khoob seva karna.”

“Khussi, don’t fight with Arnav Bitwaa.” Buaji warned her. “He is older than you, and is always busy. Let him live. Don’t try your nautanki with him. Hum kahe det he, Nandkisore! If you fight with him, we will side only with him. Not with you. Samjhi tum?”

That evil jaadugar had taken over her Buaji too? Khushi gnashed her teeth in helpless anger.

Garima looked at Buaji and blushed.

Buaji looked away, uncomfortable.

“Suno, you will be going away to a new house. To a new life….”

“Amma, Buaji, hum jaayein? I need to brush my teeth.” Khushi said.

“Baitte raho, Nandkisore! This girl! She makes everything twice as difficult!” Buaji bit out.

Khushi subsided, a scowl on her face. When would this paatt of Arnav Puran be over?

Garima tried again. “Suno, you will be starting a new life with your husbands….”

“To?” Khushi asked.

“Pyaar se rehna…” Garima said, blushing. “As days pass by, you will get to know each other closely.” She looked at Buaji for help.

“Yes, yes, Nandkisore! You will be able to share…share many…many moments of intimacy….parem ke pal…with them…” Buaji wiped her forehead with her pallu.

“Yes, you will be able to share…everything…with them….” Garima said.

Share everything with that Rakshas? Not if she could help it! She was Khushi Kumari Gupta, the Jalebi Bai of Lucknow. She wouldn’t share Mittu with him. She wouldn’t share her Devi Maiyya with him. And she would kill him if he so much as touched her secret stash of channa!

“You don’t have to be shy with them.“ Buaji explained.

Garima nodded. “They are your pati parmeshwar! All your beauty, your solah singaar is for them.”

Payal understood, and blushed.

Khushi did not understand, and whined, “Buaji, I am hungry! What have you made for breakfast?”

“Hai Re Nandkisore!” Buaji hit her head with her hand. “Only Nandkisore can save Arnav Babua now!”

Haldi was over.

All the ladies of the neighbourhood had taken an inordinate delight in dunking the two girls in the yellow paste, Khushi thought with a grimace.

She looked down at herself. Her arms were caked in yellow. Her feet, her face…she was totally yellow.

Jiji had gone to the bathroom on the ground floor to clean herself.

“Amma, Buaji, I am going to take bath.”

“Jao, jao, Nandkisore!” Buaji sent her on her way.

Khushi went to her bedroom, gathered a fresh set of clothes with careful fingers, and shut the door of the bathroom adjoining her room.

It was no use taking the dupatta of the pink lehenga in to the bathroom. She could wear it after she got to the bedroom, Khushi thought as she discarded the dupatta on the bed before entering the bathroom again.

She stood under the fall of water, washing away the yellow coating, scrubbing furiously to get rid of the paste. Rivulets of yellow flowed from her body across the floor and out through the shower drain.

Her Rakshas too must be taking bath now, she thought. His family must have applied coat after coat of haldi on his face and body.

The picture of a yellow Shaitaan spitting fire at everyone came to her mind, and she burst out laughing. The look on his face when the ladies must have taken the pots of haldi towards him…. She could not control her chuckles.

She dried herself and got in to the fancy pink lehenga. Her house would be overflowing with guests today and she could not dress in casual clothes!

The choli was too short, she thought as she turned this way and that to pull it down to cover as much of her waist as she could. She would have to drape the dupatta in such a way that it hid the shortcomings of the choli, she thought.

She came out of the bathroom, dressed only in the skirt and choli, drying her hair with a towel.

The air in her room seemed still, as though waiting for something to happen.

“Khushi….” came the call from her nightmare.

Khushi jerked around to see her Laad Governaar in her room, standing cross legged near the shut door, her pink dupatta in his hand.

Part 27 

Rasiya (Haldi VM)

Khushi stared at the image of Arnav Singh Raizada in front of her. What was he doing here? He should be in his bathroom in Sheesh Mahal, washing away the haldi. And why was he holding up her dupatta as though he were a clothes peg?

The wet towel fell to the ground from her nerveless fingers.

She had finally lost it! After years of listening to Buaji calling her Sanka Devi and her family laughing at her wild imagination, she had finally qualified for her place in Agra’s pagalkhana!

Khushi gulped.

It was all her Laad Governaar’s fault! She was dreaming about him all night and all day, even when she ate. He was creeping in to her head and staying there, even though she tried her best to push him out. How dare he disturb her so!

And now he had appeared in her room like  a mirage!

She would show him what he could do with his smirk and his muscles! A strong sense of ill usage propelled her forward. Pushing all thoughts of her short choli and dupatta-less state out of her mind, she marched up to him to fight, flicking her wet hair over her shoulder.

His eyes ran up and down her body, not missing any of its delights. His eyes darkened in desire.

“Why are you looking at me like this? Haven’t you seen me before?" she asked. 

ASR smiled.

“Don’t smile. I am warning you. D.O.N.T  S.M.I.L.E. You don’t let me sleep at night!” she accused him. “You wear fancy dress and appear in my dreams every night to destroy my sleep. And now you are here, in my bedroom? Humein pagal banane ka iraada he kya?” Her eyes shot fire balls at him.

ASR’s eyes shone with delight.

“And what are you doing here? You should be at your house, washing away the haldi. And planning new ways to make me mad."

ASR smiled at her.

“And why haven’t you fastened all the buttons of your kurta? Did you think that a glimpse of your chest will make me forget myself? Think again, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada!”

ASR’s lips quivered in acute amusement.

“Why are you so silent? Can’t you speak even though you are little more than a product of my imagination? Last night you were very voluble.” She spread her hands. “What happened to your tongue today? Cat got it? Ya Anjaliji plucked it out, unable to bear your anger any longer?”

ASR leaned back against the door, enjoying the show and her fury. It was not everyday that he got to see Khushi without her dupatta! His eyes lingered on the lines of her figure with intense possessiveness.

“And why have you taken my dupatta?” Khushi tried to snatch it out of his hand, but he hid it behind him and raised an eyebrow in silent challenge. 

“Awww! Itna ghuroor! Itni badtameezi! Stealing my dupatta and then hiding it behind your back when I ask for it?” Khushi exclaimed.

ASR nodded, his very smirk an open challenge.

“I will show you what this Jalebi Bai can do!” Khushi declared as she threw herself at her Rakshas, trying to wrest the dupatta from his hand.

Her body weight pushed him back against the shut door, and both of her hands closed around his arm, trying to pull it forward. He obliged, taking care to lock his other arm around her waist and pull her as close to him as possible.

Khushi, unaware that she was a captive in his hold, struggled to wrench his fingers from her dupatta. 

Suddenly, he threw the piece of pink cloth away from them. It fell gracefully on the floor at a little distance from them.

“Awww! Why did you throw it? I wanted to….” Khushi looked in to his face to complain. And suddenly realised that his face was very close to hers.

Too close to hers.

His lips were at an almost negligible distance from her astonished ones, and her bosom was crushed against the muscles of his hard chest that she had admired a few seconds earlier from a safe distance. His left arm was around her waist and his right hand was at her back, the fingers splayed across her bare back exposed by the low neck of her blouse.

Khushi squirmed, trying to free herself.

He quelled her rebellion with little effort, drawing her closer still to him.

“Now what will you do, Khushi Kumari Gupta?” he asked softly.

Khushi gasped. “You…you are r…really here?”

“What do you think?” He lowered his face so that his hot breath ruffled the fine hairs of her skin.

“How…how…?”

“I asked Buaji where you were.” His answer was simplicity itself, but his moves were not. He pressed her closer to him. His fingers moved slowly, lightly across her waist.

Khushi trembled against him, realising all the ramifications of her position. She was trapped. Her treacherous heart beat against his, sharing the rhythm and the commotion, dancing a wild jig of need and excitement.

“My…my du…dupatta!” Khushi whispered.

“Why do you need it?” His husky voice travelled all over her skin like his fingers.

Khushi shivered.

“Someone will see….” Khushi gasped. “Chodiye!” It was a weak protest.

“I don’t care.” It was ASR at his best.

“I do.” Khushi hissed, trying to free herself and failing.

“You shouldn’t.” he said.

Khushi gasped, glaring at him.

Taking advantage of her parted lips, ASR dived right in.

When he lifted his mouth from hers, she was in no condition to speak, or protest, or stand straight without help. He looked down at her stunned eyes and swollen lips, his eyes blazing with fervent passion. 

Unable to withstand the burn of growing desire, disoriented by the waves of yearning lashing against her frail body, Khushi collapsed against his chest, her arms going around him for support. She burrowed her face in to the open neck of his kurta, breathing in the musk of his body, rubbing her soft cheek against his hot skin.

They stood for long moments, breathing heavily, caught in the quicksand of passion. Finally, Khushi lifted her head and looked in to his molten eyes.

“What is happening to me? To us?” She placed her hand on her head. “Am I going mad?”

“This is not madness.” he whispered against her cheek.

“Then what is this?” she asked, desperate.

“I will tell you, but not now.” he promised softly, pressing his hard lips against the smooth skin of her cheek.

“When?” Khushi demanded, her hands clutching his shoulders.

“On our suhaag raat.” he whispered.

Khushi looked at him for a moment, impatient to know more but knowing that their stolen moments couldn’t last long.

“Promise?” she asked, her voice low.

“Promise.” he murmured, dropping a kiss on her chin.

Khushi shut her eyes, trying to ride the waves of pleasure running through her veins.

“Khushi, I have to leave now.” he said.

Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. But she said, “Theek he.”

He waited for her to let go, but she held on.

He lifted a hand and ran a gentle finger across her swollen lower lip. 

“Khushi…”

“Hhmmm?”

“I need to go.”

“Hhmmm.”

“Let go of my shoulders.” 

She could hear the smile behind his words.

She let go hastily.

He caught hold of her fingers and gently dropped a kiss on them.

Khushi quickly pulled her hand away and said, dignity intact, “Aap chaliye.”

“Khushi, I will…see you tomorrow.” His innocent sounding words hid many meanings, not all of them pure.

Khushi nodded her head, taking his words at face value.

“And I will…clear all your doubts on our suhaag raat.” he purred.

Khushi swallowed. Why was he looking at her like that? Like she looked at a juicy jalebi?

She nodded weakly.

He turned to unlock the door.

He pulled down the latch, and turned back for a moment.

“Khushi, you are beautiful! Especially without the dupatta.” He smirked and left the room.

Khushi stood still for a moment, her mouth open. Then she ran to gather the said piece of cloth from the floor and wrap it around herself as though she were a mummy.

Buaji bustled in through the door.

“Titliyaa, what did Arnav Bitwa want to tell you?”

Titliyaa stared at Buaji, her thoughts all scrambled by her suitor.

“He didn’t want to cancel the wedding, did he, Nandkisore?” Buaji looked pale with worry.

“He said he would see me tomorrow.” Khushi repeated like Mittu.

Buaji heaved a big sigh of relief. She laughed. “How can he marry you without seeing you, Nandkisore!”

Khushi stared at her. She was getting married tomorrow!!!!

“Boys and girls these day! No common sense!” Buaji laughed as she left, shaking her head.

Khushi moved to the mirror and looked at herself.

Slowly, her hands unwrapped the dupatta from her body.

She looked closely at her body. The arms Arnavji had clutched…the waist he had touched…the back he had caressed…the hair he had clutched in his hands… the cheeks he had kissed…the lips….. She blushed.

She lifted her shy eyes to look at herself. Her eyes widened. 

She looked beautiful!