117. I love You, Khushi

Arnav & Khushi OS:  I love you, Khushi

“Yes, Nina. I will look forward to meeting you today at the office,” Arnav drawled in to the phone, his naughty eyes on the cross face of his wife who dumped a plate of parathas in front of him and walked away.

He had scolded her for letting Laxmi sit on their bed and watch TV with her, and as was usual with them, the fight had escalated rapidly in to a war that had lasted the entire night and carried over in to the morning.

“Who does he think he is, Laad Governaar kahin ka!” Khushi bit in to a jalebi with vengeance.

“Kaa hua, Khussi Bhabi?” poor HP asked.

“Nothing.” Khushi bit out before marching in to the dining hall with Nani’s milk.

“That would be absolutely lovely, Nina,” ASR spoke softly in to the phone.

The glass of milk trembled in her fingers. Oh, to pour it over his head! The temptation was almost too much to be resisted.

NK said, “Khushiji, why don’t you sit down with me? See, I have cut a sej for you.” He pointed to an apple he had quartered.

All burst out laughing.

“Seb. Seb, NK Bhai,” Akash sighed. “Sej is bed. Seb is apple.”

“Khushiji, what are you planning for tonight? After all New Year’s Eve he!” NK laughed.

Khushi grit her teeth.

“We are going for a party at the Mehras. Mama, Mami, Nani, and I. Khushiji, are you joining us?” Anjali asked.

“No, Di,” Khushi smiled her refusal.

“I am going to my club,” NK announced. 

“Payal and I have to attend the do at the Singhanias,” Akash said.

In the flurry of conversation, ASR stood up to leave. He pocketed the phone, shrugged on his coat, grabbed his bag and moved towards the door, his eyes on Khushi.

She made no move to accompany him.

“Khushi!” he called.

She looked at him, her eyes spitting anger.

“Come with me. I need to tell you something,” ASR commanded.

With little grace, Khushi followed him to the door.

“I will be late getting back tonight,” he said, deliberately shifting his eyes away from hers as though he were guilty of something.

Khushi glowered at him.

“I have  a lot of work waiting for me. Don’t wait dinner for me,” he instructed, a small smile on his lips.

Khushi felt as though she were sitting on a volcano. Fury and hurt overwhelmed her heart for a moment, fighting amongst each other for supremacy. Fury won.

“No, I won’t,” she said.

“Good.” ASR said.

Khushi turned and walked away.

They would be alone in RM that night. Their first New Year’s Eve after marriage.

ASR called the leading restaurant in Delhi and arranged a candlelight dinner for two at 8 at RM. He ordered a big bouquet of red roses, balloons saying that he was very sorry, a cake wishing her a happy new year, a red-pink lehenga that would make his wife look like a princess and a diamond and ruby jewellery set for her.

He returned home early, keeping his finger pressed on the bell till HP opened the door.

“Arnav Bhaiyya?” HP asked, his mouth open.

“Why can’t you open the door fast, HP?” ASR asked, his eyes looking for his wife.

He ran up the steps to his room, holding the packages with the lehenga and the jewellery set. Khushi was not in their bed room.

 The door to the poolside was open.

ASR dumped the covers on the bed and strode out of the glass door. His eyes scanned his garden. Khushi was no where to be seen.

“Khushi!” he called.

There was no response. Uncertainty spread its dark tentacles in his heart. Where was she? Was she still angry with him? Had she joined Di and the others at the last minute?

“HP!” ASR bellowed.

HP came running to the door.

“Where is Khushi?” His eyes shot fire at a hapless HP.

“Khussi Bhabi went out, Arnav Bhaiyya.” HP trembled in his sandals.

“With the others?” ASR asked, his voice low, dangerous.

“No, Arnav Bhaiyya. After all the others left, Khussi Bhabi went out. Alone,” HP said in a quivering voice.

“Alone?” ASR felt his breath stop for a moment. The streets were full of revellers, most of them drunk. And Khushi was out, alone, among them?

“But—but…” HP stammered.

“But?” ASR’s voice was low.

“She was dressed in ordinary clothes. Not like the others. Not like NK Bhai who had a funny hat on his head.” HP stammered.

Laxmi Nagar. She must have gone to Buaji’s house. 

Relief made him tremble. “I will find her.” ASR reassured HP.

HP nodded.

ASR threw off his coat, pocketed his car keys and left the house.

Halfway to Buaji’s house, his common sense reared its head.

He tried Khushi’s phone. She did not pick up.

He called Buaji.

“Arnav Babua? Kaa hua, Nandkisore?” Buaji was all smiles.

“Buaji, is Khushi there?” ASR asked.

“Khussi? Why should she be here, Nandkisore? You stole her from us, didn’t you? You were so much in parem with her that you couldn’t wait to ask our permission and ran away with her on Payaliyaa’s marriage day. Now she should be with you. Tum hi bhugto, Nandkisore!” Buaji laughed.

ASR could feel his palms sweat. Where was Khushi?

“I will call you later, Buaji.” ASR cut the call.

“Sharma gaye hamre Arnav Bitwaa, Nandkisore!” Buaji chuckled.

He drove around the city for hours trying to locate Khushi, beads of sweat appearing on his temples inspite of the cold weather.

He called Anjali, Akash, and NK, trying to find out if Khushi was with them without alarming them. He called HP repeatedly to find out if she had returned home. HP reported that dinner, the cake and balloons had been delivered. He then sat by the phone, knowing that Arnav Bhaiyya would call him all night till he found Khussi Bhabi.

“Khushi, where are you?” ASR panicked as he looked out at the crowds on the roads, all determined to see in the new year with as much alcohol in them as possible. Boys were firing rockets to burst in the skies, filling the dark expanse with many hues. He hoped they wouldn’t stand too close to the fire, the spirit within them putting them in danger of instant combustion.

He checked the hospitals; he checked the markets. He scanned the roads; he scrutinised the people walking by. He paid special attention to the crowds outside halwais and pani puri sellers, chudi shops and channa sellers. 

But Khushi was no where to be seen.

He tried her phone repeatedly but to no avail.

He stopped in the parking of Devi Maiyya’s temple. The bells were being rung with great enthusiasm and he could hear devotees praying loudly. He leaped out of the car and ran up the steps. He looked at the huge crowd of people before the idol, looking for the beautiful form of his wife.

Images of the day when he had charged up to her and taken hold of her hurt hand and bandaged it rushed through his mind. Where was she?

‘Khushi, Khushi…’ his mind chanted.

About ten o’clock, Buaji called him.

“Arnav Bitwaa, Titliyaa fought with you, didn’t she?” Buaji asked, a smile in her voice.

ASR opened his mouth but could not speak a word.

“She is here, with a face as big as a melon, Nandkisore!” Buaji chuckled.

“I—I will come over, Buaji,” ASR croaked.

“Did you have dinner?” Buaji asked.

“Err…no…” ASR confessed.

“Khussi! Arnav babua has not eaten anything. Make dinner for him.” He heard Buaji hollering. 

He cut the call, falling back against the car in relief. She was safe.

A rocket cut in to the deep darkness of the sky, burst, and threw out multi-coloured stars that lit up the sky.

ASR shut his eyes, taking deep breaths of cracker smoke-filled air.

ASR looked at Khushi. Her face was expressionless as she served him.

Buaji was watching TV.

“Where were you, Khushi?” he asked softly.

“At the temple,” she said shortly.

“I looked for you in the big Devi Maiyya’s temple.” ASR said.

Khushi looked at him as though he were mad.

“That is not the only temple in Delhi.” Khushi was blunt in her reply.

ASR swallowed.

“Do you have your medicines with you?” Khushi asked.

“Yes.”

“Take them. I won’t be around to catch you each time you faint,” Khushi said, placing a glass of water near him. She sat down in a chair away from him and looked at the TV screen.

“Arnav Bitwaa, why don’t you stay here tonight?” Buaji invited him.

Khushi’s eyes flew open.

“He has to go home, Buaji. How can he leave Hari Prakashji alone? The others will be late getting home tonight.” Khushi made excuses for him.

“No. I will stay.” ASR said.

Khushi opened her mouth to protest.

“I will stay, Buaji. And return with Khushi tomorrow,” ASR was adamant.

Buaji smiled and got up. “I am going to bed. You fight and make up, Nandkisore!” She left them and went to her room.

Khushi cleared the dishes while ASR locked the door and switched off the lights. When she went to the bedroom, he followed her and locked the door.

Khushi threw her dupatta to lie on the back of her chair and went towards the window to shut it.

“Khushi, where did you go?” he asked.

“To a temple. The temple I prayed in last Teej,” she said.

“Where I broke your fast,” ASR reminded her.

“Ji. And Lavanyaji’s fast,” Khushi said.

ASR swallowed.

A moment later, he asked, “Khushi, I called you many times. Why didn’t you answer the phone?”

“It was on silent mode, just as yours is when you are busy in the office.” Khushi said, her arms crossed.

“Khushi, why didn’t you let me or anyone know you were going out?” he asked.

“All were out. And you were supposed to return late. I didn’t think you would miss me,” Khushi said.

“Khushi! Khushi, you should have left me a note. Or called me. Or informed HP.”

“Is Hari Prakashji my father that I have to inform him where and why I am going?” Khushi asked.

“Khushi! Did it never cross your mind that I would be worried?” Anger crept in to his voice.

“No. It didn’t.”

“Khushi!”

“Why did you return home early tonight? Did your Nina or Reena or whoever have better plans?” Khushi asked quietly, standing with her back against the open window.

“Khushi!” ASR opened his mouth to form and answer but found himself at a loss for words. “Khushi, I was joking!”

“I didn’t find it funny. Nor do I think it was a joke. In fact, thinking back to the long list of girl friends you mentioned to me once, I think Nina was one of them, wasn’t she?” Khushi asked, her blood boiling.

“Khushi, that was a joke too,” ASR looked around, desperately.

“I don’t think so.” Khushi said. “I think you spent all your youth chasing girls. You and your girl friends! Seeing each other! Your meant nothing relationships!”

“Khushi!” he protested.

“And apparently marriage hasn’t changed you.” Khushi said bitterly.

“Khushi—Khushi, you have got it all wrong. It was just a joke,” ASR struggled against the whirlpool sucking him in to it.

“Yes. And the joke is on me, the fool who believed you when you said that you loved me.” Khushi swallowed her tears, hard. “At midnight, a new year will be born. Let us part tonight. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Khushi managed to say.

“Khushi!” ASR’s voice was a thin thread.

“I was a fool,” she muttered. “A needy fool. No more.”

“Khushi, you have got this wrong,” He tried to undo all the damage he had done.

“I don’t want to spend my entire life in fear, uncertainty. I have had enough of them in the last ten years. No more,” she said.

“Khushi, listen to me.” He tried to take a step closer to her, but she turned her head away.

“Go away. Go away from my life. I don’t have the aukat to bear your treachery. Or the pain you cause me. Leave me alone,” Khushi said, her low voice streaked with tears.

“Khushi, please listen to me. Khushi,” he pleaded.

“I am too middle-class for you. Too ordinary. Too brainless to expect you to be mine and mine alone. I can’t change myself and I can’t change you. Go away,” she sobbed.

Asr marched up to his wife, caught her by her shaking shoulders and pulled her close.

“I love you, Khushi.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I can’t live without you.”

“You can.”

“No, Khushi. I can’t. My breath…I feel choked, Khushi, when you go away from me.”

Khushi tried to push him away.

“Khushi, I was just teasing you. That’s all. Please believe me, Khushi. Will I look at another girl? Can I look at another girl? Khushi!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Come home with me, Khushi. You can have the proof.”

Khushi looked at him suspiciously.

“I knew everyone would be out. So I got back early to spend some time with you, to celebrate our first new years’ eve.”

Khushi looked at him, silent.

“I arranged dinner for both of us. Cake. Balloons. A lehenga for you. Diamonds.”

“I don’t want your dinner, cake, balloons, lehenga and diamonds.”

“Khushi, I was talking over a dead phone. It is a miracle that Aman didn’t call at that time and make a fool of me. Khushi, how can I make you understand how much I love you?”

“You can’t. Because you don’t love me.”

“Khushi!” He lost it. He hauled her in to his arms, locking her against him with his muscular arms.

“Chodiye hamein!”

“Never in this lifetime.” ASR declared.

Khushi squirmed, trying to push him away, but he held firm.

He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “You think I can kiss you like this when I don’t love you, Khushi?” he whispered against her temple.

Khushi tried to free herself.

His lips moved to her eyebrows. “Do you know how much I love you, Khushi?”

“No.” Khushi said.

“Let me tell you.” he murmured against her cheek, his hot breath blanching the soft skin there.

“I love your naughty nosepin.” He kissed it repeatedly. “It winks at me, beckoning me close.”

Khushi trembled.

“Your ears.” He paid homage to them. “They tempt me to bite them.”

Khushi jerked in shock as he followed through with his threat.

“Your lips. Even when you are angry with me, they tempt me to kiss them.”

Khushi tried to turn her head away, but ASR’s determined lips captured hers and tasted their swollen softness.

He licked her chin. “Your chin challenges me to best you.”

Khushi tried to push him away, but he caught hold of her arms and twisted them around her back, pulling her closer to him.

“Your neck. I love to kiss it, Khushi, to breathe in the jasmine scent of your skin.” His tongue tasted the taut line of her arched throat.

“Arnavji!” Khushi gasped.

“I love the way your breath catches when you gasp my name, Khushi,” he breathed against her plump lips.

He dragged her hair away from her nape. The silky strands clung to his loving fingers.

“I love your hair, Khushi. I dream of it. I dream that it is covering my face like a waterfall of silk.” He licked her fuller lower lip.

Hs fingers located the zip at the back of the anarkali and pulle dit down…slowly.

Khushi shivered.

“I love the way you shiver when I undress you, Khushi. The way your heart starts beating faster against mine. The way you pant. The way your fingers clutch my shoulders, your nails biting in to my flesh…”

Khushi’s fingers tightened their hold on his shoulders.

His warm fingers caressed the expanse of her back left uncovered by the open zip.

Khushi shuddered and hid her face in the crook of his neck, leaning against him for support, her trembling limbs taking support from his.

“I love the way you hide your face against my neck, Khushi.” he whispered against her ear, his fingers roaming as and where they willed.

He tugged at the gaping folds of the anarkali and slid it down her shoulders, her arms, and off her.

“The lights.” Khushi whispered, her face against his neck, her bosom heaving.

“And your shyness. I love your shyness, Khushi.” He lifted Khushi and laid her on the bed. He moved away to dim the lights.

He joined her on their bed, his fingers trailing over her curves, making her moan and squeal in a lady-like manner.

“I love the sound you make, Khushi. So soft in the beginning, and loud later.” He devoted himself to increasing the volume of her involuntary groans.

He freed her off the cumbersome weight of her clothes.

 Khushi tried to drag his waistcoat off him. He obliged.

 “I love it when you want to tear my clothes off, Khushi.”

Khushi pulled at the buttons of his shirt. He tore it off and shed it on the floor.

Khushi’s fingers lovingly traced over the muscles of his chest and arms, sliding down to his waist and back, unable to stop herself.

“I love it when you touch me, Khushi. I love the feel of your hands on me, Khushi,” he murmured against her lips.

Khushi tugged at the belt of his trousers. He obliged.

All night, he paid homage to his wife’s body and met her demands, laying bare his need for her. His vulnerability to her. His desperate, voracious passion for her and only her, his desire for his wife, his love.

“Listen to my heart, Khushi.” he said softly.

Khushi placed her ear on his chest.

“It is telling you that I love you.”

Khushi smiled.

“The day I lose you, Khushi, it will stop beating.”

Khushi lifted her head to look in to his serious eyes.

“Don’t ever tell me that I don’t love you, Khushi.”

She felt her eyes fill.

“I lack manners. I am too angry for my own good. I have a nasty tongue. I am impatient, arrogant, a workaholic. Accuse me all of these, Khushi, and more. But don’t say that I don’t love you.”

Khushi nodded.

They slept in each other’s arms, exhausted after a night of loving.

Dawn peeped in through the curtains, throwing light on ASR’s face. He blinked and looked around, seeing Khushi sleeping with her head on his chest. The events of the night rushed through his head.

Khushi stretched and opened her eyes.

“Arnavji…” she whispered with a catch in her voice.

“I love you, Khushi.”

“I know.”

“I won’t let you forget it again. I will repeat it till you believe it, till it becomes part of your breath, your dhadkan, till you can never doubt me again.”

Khushi swallowed.

“I thought loving you was enough. I didn’t know that I had to show it too. I didn’t know that saving love in my heart without showing it to you would get me in to so much trouble.”

Khushi smiled, cupping his face in her palms.

“Happy New Year, Khushi.”

“Happy New Year, Arnavji.”

“The first day of the rest of our lives together,” ASR said with satisfaction.