119. FF: Recalling Arnav (Based on an idea given by Prash_FF)

FF: Recalling Arnav

Dedicated to Prash_FF.

         (Devaki, how do I thank you for this perfect banner?)

Prelude

Khushi sat looking at the dead fire in the havan kund, dark smoke rising from the wet embers, the wood dripping water thrown over it by Dadi who had wanted to stop the wedding and had spewed vicious accusations against her Amma.

Dadi had said that Arnavji wouldn’t come, that he did not want to marry her, that he hated the very thought of her, that he did not want anything to do with the niece of the woman who had killed his mother and father. But how could Arnavji abandon her? How could he forget their love? How could he live without her? How could he leave her behind when he knew that she could not live without him?

“Titliyaa, udho, Nandkisore.” Buaji whispered. “Arnav bitwaa won’t come. Let us—let us go home.” 

Khushi shook her hands away. What did Buaji know of their love?

Babuji  sat in his wheelchair, too helpless to even wipe away the tears flowing down his face. Garima sat at his feet, weeping, knowing that she had destroyed her daughters' lives.

“Khushi, it is no use waiting. Arnavji won’t come.” Payal wept in to Khushi’s shoulder.

 Khushi shrugged Payal away. Why did her Jiji have so little faith in Arnavji? The love that bound her to Arnavji till the end of time and beyond? Their love was greater than hatred, greater than pain, far far greater than prejudice. 

“Khussi bitiyaa, go home. The wedding won’t happen tonight.” Nani wept. 

Khushi turned wet eyes to look at the elderly lady. How could Naniji have so little faith in Arnavji?

Khushi looked around.

Mami was sitting by her Saasumma, her head in her hands. Anjaliji was weeping. Nanheji had tears in his eyes. Akash Jiju was looking at her with pity.

What was wrong with all of them? Why couldn’t they see how much Arnavji loved her and how much she loved him? How their breaths would stop if they went away from each other. How their hearts picked up the other’s beat when they came close? Were they all blind? Khushi wondered, frantic, feeling as though she were swimming in a sea of honey, the sticky liquid trying to drown her, pull her down. Their love had been tested time and again and it had emerged strong, glowing. Neither Shyam’s lies nor Arnavji’s past had been able to kill it.

Arnavji would come. He may be late, but he would come.

Anjaliji’s phone rang. All eyes turned to her. She answered the call with shaking fingers.

“Chotey?” she whispered, but the whisper was as loud as a bomb burst.

“Aren’t you returning home, Di?” ASR’s voice came through, but it didn’t sound like his voice.

“Chotey—the wedding—Khushiji…” Anjali gasped.

“There will be no wedding. Return home, Di.” His voice sounded cold.

“Chotey, Khushiji—she is waiting.” Anjali’s voice was a thin thread.

Khushi grabbed the phone from Anjali’s hands.

“Arnavji, it is me. Arnavji, when are you coming?” Tears dripped down her cheeks.

There was cold silence.

“Arnavji, you promised. You said you wouldn’t be late today. That you wouldn’t make me wait. Arnavji…” She sobbed.

Silence was her only answer.

“Arnavji, dekhiye, I am in my wedding joda. Our family is here, waiting for you,” Khushi wept. “Where are you, Arnavji?” Her limbs trembled.

“I am not coming for the wedding, Khushi.”

 Ice filled her veins. 

“I have no desire to marry the girl who is the niece of the woman who had an affair with my father and caused my mother’s suicide.”

Khuhsi stood frozen, his words filling her ears.

“The same blood runs through your veins, Khushi. I will not marry you.”

Khushi stood still, the phone held to her ear.

“Go away, Khushi. Get out of my life. Don’t set foot in our house any more. The Raizadas are dead to you."

Khushi swallowed, her whole body trembling violently.

“Every moment of my life after we met, after you destroyed my show at Sheesh Mahal, has been filled with pain, loss, trouble and aggravation. No more. Get out. And stay out.” He cut the call, the phone falling from his nerveless fingers as he ripped out a part of his bleeding heart and threw it away as far as he could.

The dead phone fell from her numb fingers. Khushi fell to the ground in a dead faint.

Part 1: Lucknow

Five months later

The radio blared,

O mera babu chhail chhabila
Main to naachungi
O mera balmaa rang rangeela
Main to naachungi..

Khushi danced on the bed and the children joined her, singing along with her.

Kajra laga ke, ghajra laga ke
Main sharmaau re
O mera babu chhail chhabila
Main to naachungi
O mera balmaa rang rangeela
Main to naachungi…

Khushi twirled around, her dupatta in her hand.

“Band karo yeh naach gaana!” Buaji shrieked. “How many times should I tell you not to exert yourself, Nandkisore?” She caught Khushi by her ear and pulled her down. 

“Buaji, chodiye na hamein!” Khushi whined.

Buaji turned to the children. “Dafaa ho jaao yahan se! You know that she is sick. You know that the doctor has asked her not yo jump up and down. Then why are you here?”

“Woh—woh Khushi didi called us…” the children began.

 “Get out, all of you. Or should I get my belan, Nandkisore?”

Retreat was the best part of valour. The children vanished, jumping out through windows and escaping through doors.

Buaji turned to look at her Titliyya who was scowling at her.

“Titliyaa, you know you have to take rest,” Buaji began, her face lined with worry.

Khushi hugged Buaji, burying her face in Buaji’s neck. “I am sorry. I promise, Buaji. I won’t do this again.”

"Your head is not hurting, is it?"

"No, Buaji," Khushi replied.

Buaji heaved a sigh of relief.

“But I am going to open Satwik Mishtan Bhandar tomorrow.” Khushi said.

“Hai Re Nandkisore! Parmeswari! What are you…? How?” Buaji was lost for words.

“I went to Rajesh Chacha’s house and talked to him.” Khushi smiled at Buaji.

“Garima, Sasi Babua, tanik idhar aao,” Bujai hollered. “See what your precious bitiyaa has done.”

Garima came, pushing her husband in his wheelchair, her face worried, pale.

“Kaa hua, Jiji? What has Khussi done now?” she asked anxiously.

“Titliyya went to Rajesh and asked him if she can open Satwik Mishtan Bhandar again in his shed.” Buaji hit her forehead with her hand.

“Khussi!” Garima exclaimed.

Khushi looked at her family, her face serious. “I know I am sick, Amma, Babuji, Buaji. But I am tired of sitting at home doing nothing.”

Buaji looked at Garima & Babuji.

“I talked to Rajesh Chacha. He knows that we have no means of income. And that you had to spend a lot of money after my accident. So he said I can use his shed to make and sell sweets like Babuji did.” Khushi looked at her family with loving eyes.

“Bitiyaa!” Garima could not continue.

“Don’t worry, Amma. I talked to Munna and Krishna, Babuji’s main helpers. They have promised to join me.”

The adults stared at Khushi.

“They will come at noon to clean all the huge vessels and pans we used to use. I will go out in the evening and order the ingredients. We can start tomorrow.”

“Khushi, beta, are you sure?” Babuji asked, his lips forming the words with difficulty.

“Very sure, Babuji. With your blessings and Amma & Buaji’s help, we can do it,” Khushi said, hugging his feet.

“Then you do it.” Babuji blessed her.

Khushi smiled. “Buaji, I am hungry. Kuch khane ko do na?” she patted her tummy.

“You are always hungry. When aren’t you demanding food?” Buaji grumbled good-naturedly as the whole family moved in to the kitchen.

“That is because there is a small chicken in my tummy. It is hungry all the time.” Khushi laughed.

The ladle fell from Buaji’s hand. Garima and Babuji looked at Khushi’s laughing visage and hurriedly looked away.

“Jab dekho chabar chabar,” Buaji managed to say. “Shut your mouth and eat.”

“How can I eat if I shut my mouth?” Khushi laughed. “This Madhumati Gupta is sanki, like her niece. Sab sangat ka kamal he!”

Buaji placed a mountain of pooris on her plate. “Eat,” she ordered.

Khushi took half of them and dropped them back in to the bin. “Four will do, Buaji.” 

“You want only four pooris? Kaa hua, Nandkisore? Is your head hurting again?” Buaji was stiff with worry.

Garima and Babuji stopped eating to stare at their daughter.

Khushi turned her head to look at the steps leading to the first floor of their ancient haveli, Gomti Sadan. “It is all your fault,” she told the steps. “Why did you have to trip me as I walked down?”

Buaji looked at Garima & her brother. “It is not the fault of the steps, Nandkisore. It is your fault. Kabhi kabhi dekha karo where you are walking and how,” she scolded Khushi.

“It may be my fault, Buaji. But is it fair that I had to spend one month in the hospital because I tripped on these steps? Is it fair that I have to struggle to remember names and people and events now? Aap ko pata he, Babuji? Bablu was telling me about how I used to climb the mango tree in his yard and pluck mangoes for him.” Khushi clutched her head. “And I couldn’t remember! I have forgotten all the important things in my life, Buaji! And all because of these steps.”

Garima took a hasty sip of water. Babuji and Buaji looked elsewhere.

“Amma, did Jiji call?” Khushi asked.

“Payaliyaa called. But you were out.” Garima said.

“Why can’t she come to see me? I know she came when I was in the hospital, but I didn’t see her then.” Khushi scowled.

“She is with her husband and her new family in Delhi, Nandkisore! You should not expect her to visit you daily and giggle with you now. She has responsibilities, Sanka Devi,” Buaji tried to silence her.

Khushi grimaced. “Who asked you to marry her off to a bespectacled man in Delhi? Couldn’t you have found some one in Lucknow? Then she could have been with me all the time.”

“Titliyaa, life does not happen as we want it to. Have you finished dinner? I will come up with you, Nandkisore. We can go to bed.” Buaji offered.

“First I will call Jiji. Then I want to see her wedding photos. Buaji, how come there are no sangeet photos? And is Akash Jiju an orphan? How come there are no photos of his family?” Khushi asked, confused.

Part 2

“Khushi!” Arnav jumped off the recliner, looking for his wife.  The bed was pristine, as untouched as it had been for 5 months.

‘Where was she?’ he wondered. He walked to the door leading to the poolside. It was locked. 

“Khushi!” he yelled.

He rushed to the bathroom and pushed the door open. There was no one there.

“Khushi…” he whispered and sank on the recliner. She was gone. She had left him. No, he had discarded her, abandoned her, refused to marry her.

She was in Lucknow.

He buried his head in his hands. Sweat coated his face even in the cold night.

He was alone, as he had always been. But this time, he was alone because he had pushed her away. Had he appeared at the hall for the wedding, she would have married him, regardless of whether her aunt had been his father’s girlfriend or not. But how could he live with her, knowing that her aunt and his father had ogether brought about his mother’s death?

What if his love for her turned to disgust? What if the pain made him lash out at her? What if the nightmares conquered him and he punished her for her aunt’s sins? How would he deal with his guilt if he married Khushi and made ‘the other woman’s’ niece his mother’s bahu?

Arnav lifted his face from his hands.

But the price they had to pay for his scruples and sense of justice was too high. Six months of marriage. One night of loving. Both followed by five months of tears and anguish. Was there no end to this pain?

He walked to the wardrobe and pushed it open. A few of her suits still hung there. He touched the yellow anarkali, the pink suit, a green  dupatta… He buried his face in the dupatta. It still smelled of jasmine.

“Khushi!” he murmured.

                                        ***

“Payaliyaa, Khushi is asking about Akash Bitwaa’a relations. She wants to see their photos, Nandkisore.” Buaji’s sigh reached Delhi.

“She called me and asked me for the pictures, Buaji,” Payal replied, looking at the clock. It was late at night.

“I have burned everything here, Payaliyaa. She won’t find anything here. There is nothing in Gomti Sadan that will remind her of Delhi and the Raizadas, Nandkisore!” Buaji claimed.

Payal nodded.

How long could they hide the truth from Khushi? But how could they reveal the truth to her? Reality would be too much of a shock for her. It would drive her insane with grief. It was better that she remained in the world of small dreams. A world without the typhoon, Arnav Singh Raizada.

“Payaliyaa, be very careful. Make sure that Devyaniji, Anjali Bitiyaa, Manoramaji  and the men know nothing of what happened to Khushi. The story of a harmless fall from the steps will do for them. Oo kaa he, Nandkisore, we don’t want them coming here and insisting on marrying her out of pity."

“Ji, Buaji.”

“Arnav Bitwaa was wrong not to marry her. But Garima was wrong to hide her past from us and from her daughters. Anyway, Titliyaa is happy now. Let her be happy. Let her live like this. And may her memory never come back, Nandkisore!”

                                           ***

Khushi dried her wet hair and combed it into submission, humming some old, half-forgotten tune. She took the dupatta and coiled it around her neck.

She looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. She had left something out.

Bindi, kangan, jhumke were all in order. But her neck. Her neck was bare. Her fingers gently touched the skin of her neck.

“Amma, why does my neck feel so bare? Was there some chain that I used to wear regularly?” Khushi asked.

Garima looked at Buaji and said, “Naahi, bitiyaa. You never used to wear anything around your neck.”

“Acha?” Khushi looked at her neck again. “Maybe you are right.” But why did she miss the weight of a chain around her neck?

                                                                       

                                ***

Anjali stood at the doorway of her brother’s room and looked at him sitting hunched over the laptop. Akash & NK were at the office.

Her heart clenched. Five months without Khushi had turned him in to a wreck, the sight of whom made Mami cry and Nani bury her head in her hands. 

He had lost weight. His face was gaunt, his eyes listless, his Adam’s apple pronounced, the bones at the base of his throat sticking out. He had stopped eating well. Jogging was a thing of the past. He took his pills because she forced them down his throat every morning and night and it took him less effort to give in to her than to fight her.

“Chotey,” she called softly.

He lifted dull eyes from the laptop screen he had been gazing at for hours.

“Come down for lunch. I have made tomato soup.”

“Later,” His voice was rusty. “Is Payal back from the temple?”

“She called. She will be here in five minutes. Chotey, you will make yourself sick if you go on like this,” Anjali could not stop herself from saying.

He looked at her blankly.

His phone rang.

“Yes, Aman.”

He listened for a few seconds. “I will come over.” He cut the call. “I need to go to the office, Di,” he said, standing up.

“Have lunch first,” Anjali said.

                                                      ***

Payal joined the family at the lunch table.

“How was the pravachan, Payaliyaa?” Nani asked.

“Very good, Naniji. It would have been nice if all of you could have joined me,” Payal smiled slightly, passing the dal to Mamaji.

“Did Khushi call last night?” ASR asked Payal, impatient, his tone urgent.

“Ji.”

There was perfect silence at the table. Arnav had been waiting to ask Payal this question since morning. As he usually did. 

“How is she?” Worried eyes looked in to Payal’s evasive ones.

“Fine. Happy. She is going to start Satwik Mishtan Bhandar once more,” Payal smiled.

Arnav swallowed. “How can she—I mean, she fell from the steps four months back. How can she take up such heavy work?”

Payal looked at the worried faces around the table.

“It was a minor fall. And four months have passed by. All her injuries—her injuries…” Payal stuttered. “Her injuries are healed now. She is healthy, happy.”

“But…” ASR protested.

“Chotey, you don’t have any right over Khussi bitiyaa,” Nani was blunt in the extreme. “She is not your fiancee or wife. It was your choice to listen to Sumi and throw Khussi out of your life. Now she is trying to find happiness and purpose in her life. You have no right to question or dictate her decisions or actions.”

ASR’s face grew grim, pale, the conflict in his soul eating in to his peace of mind like cancer.

“Arnav Bitwaa, we didn’t know that Garimaji was the woman involved in the scandal. Payaliyaa didn’t know. Khussi Bitiyaa didn’t know. Why did you punish the child for something that her Maasi and your father did fourteen years back?” Mamaji asked.

“I am sure that Garimaji had no idea that we are the Malliks. It must have been her first sight of Dadi that told her that she had married off Payaliyaa in to this family. She must have been horrified to realise that Khushiji was going to marry Arvind Mallik’s son,” Anjali said sadly.

“Arnav Bitwaa, I don’t blames you for leaving Khussi. If you didn’t wants to marry the niece of the woman who caused the death of your Amma-Babuji, I can never blames you. It ijj your decision. Theek he. But why are you not happy with your decision? That ijj my kwestion, Hello Hi Bye Bye,” Mami said.

“Why do you hound Payaliyaa for Khussi bitiyaa’s news every day?” Nani asked.

ASR had no answer. He looked down at his untouched plate.

“I don’t know what happened fourteen years ago. I don’t know if Garimaji was involved. I don’t know if my daughter killed herself out of a misunderstanding or if she had a reason to end her life. I don’t know anything, Chotey. Because I did not see anything.  I was not there at the scene of the crime,” Nani sighed, her face drawn. “But I did see two things. I saw how much Khussi bitiyaa loved you and trusted you, how she clung to the hope that you would come to marry her even after all of us told her that you wouldn’t, how her heart broke when you told her over the phone that you did not want to marry her, how she collapsed and remained laid up for days due to the shock…”

ASR’s face whitened as all the people around the table nodded in agreement.

“And I saw how much you loved Khussi bitiyaa. How your love for her overcame all your prejudices and lack of belief in love and marriage, how it made you want to marry her. Also how it made you throw Sumi out of your house, how it made you expose Shyam’s true nature to your family and Anjali bitiyaa…after you broke off the marriage. And I can see how it is making you miserable and sick now.”

ASR looked at Nani, his naked eyes revealing his soul-felt grief and loneliness.

“Chotey, life is short. You cannot live your parents’ lives for them. You cannot spend your life making up for your parents’ mistakes or seeking revenge for real or assumed slights,” Nani said.

Anjali nodded. “Nani is right, Chotey.”

“It is time to choose. Do you want to live like this, trying hard to hate Khussi bitiyaa and failing? Or do you want to beg her forgiveness, marry her and bring her back here where she belongs?” Nani asked, looking directly in to his eyes.

All looked at ASR. There was perfect silence in the hall.

Before Arnav could reply, Payal intervened. “Buaji, Amma and Babuji want Arnavji to forget whatever happened between him and Khushi. They want him to live happily, away from Khushi and them.”

ASR swallowed, his throat dry as dust. The Guptas had forgiven him, freed him.

“It was a contract marriage, meaningless, short, planned to oust Shyamji. It is over now. So they are hoping that Arnavji will forget everything that happened after that and get on with his life. As Khushi is doing,” Payal smiled, hoping frantically that the Raizadas would agree.

All stared at Payal, their faces pained.

“Arnavji is a free man now that the contract has ended. Everyone in our home in Lucknow feels that it is good that there is no bond between Arnavji and Khushi now. They would like to see Arnavji marry again. And this time to a girl more suited to his position, without such a tainted history,” Payal tried hard to keep the smile on her face.

ASR stood up suddenly, his arm inadvertently knocking his plate off the table on to the floor. All stared at him, awestruck at the animation on the face that had been as good as dead for the past five months.

“Khushi is my wife. Whether she is living with me or away from me,” ASR’s eyes spit fire at Payal. “If Buaji and the others are waiting to see my wedding with any girl other than Khushi, I am afraid they will have to live with the disappointment.”

He turned and walked away.

Payal bent her head, exhausted. She had tried. She had really tried to free him. What could she tell Amma, Babuji and Buaji now?

                                           ***

Khushi banged the spoon against the back of the steel plate that had been kept face down on the dining table.

“I am hungry, Amma. Khana do, khana do. Nahi to hum hartal karenge! Kyon Babuji, won’t you join me?” she teased.

Babuji smiled.

“Tanik thehro, Nandkisore. I am bringing lunch.” Buaji grumbled.

“After lunch I have to join Krishna and Munna in cleaning the vessels, Buaji. And then go out to the shops.” Khushi proclaimed cheerfully.

“You got good money for the bangle, Titliyaa?” Buaji asked.

“Yes, Munna knew the jeweller. I have kept the money in Babuji’s safe box, Buaji. I will take a portion of it when I go to the shops, Babuji.” she declared.

Babuji nodded.

Khushi looked down at the smooth expanse of the plate. She could see her face in it. She leaned forward to smile at her image.

A masculine hand threw a bundle of notes on to the back of a steel plate resting face down on the table.

Khushi jerked, looking around. Who was the idiot throwing money on plates? There was no one near her. 

She frowned. How weird!

After lunch, Khushi sat before the TV, waiting for her helpers to arrive.

“Barsat mein,

 humse mile tum sajan,

 tum se mile hum…

barsat mein…

Tak dhina dhin…."

Khushi smiled at the TV, watching the song being played out, humming and singing along with it, the words coming to her mind with no difficulty.

Barsat mein… she sang.

It was dark. She was alone. It was raining.

Humse mile tum sajan…

She felt a bright light flash against her face. The very next moment, warm, strong arms closed around her and swung her around, close to him.

Tum se mile hum… barsat mein…

Cradled against him, safe, she could hear his heart beat against her ear. It was as fast, as loud as hers…

Khushi clutched her head. A dull ache was making itself felt at the back of her head as the images spun and twisted on the screen of her mind.

“Kaa hua, Nandkisore?” Buaji’s anxious voice broke in to her preoccupation. “Is your head hurting?”

Khushi tried to smile. “I think I am watching too many phillums these days, Buaji.” Why else would she see such phillmy scenes with herself as the heroine and some man as the hero?

“Khushi didi!” Munna called.

“Shall we start?” Krishna asked.

“I am coming. Wait for me.” Khushi jumped out of her chair and ran out to join them.

 Part 3

“Dadiji, I was thinking—if it is alright with all of you—that I will go to Lucknow for a week,” Payal said softly. 

Akash, who had already been consulted, smiled at her across the table.

ASR’s spoon fell with a clatter on the table. All turned their eyes from the spoon and his pale face as though they had seen nothing.

“Jao, jao, Payaliyaa,” Nani encouraged her. “Give my regards to Sasiji, Garimaji, Madhumatiji and Khussi bitiyaa,” she said Khushi’s name deliberately, trying to din in to her grandson’s head that even though he was a fool, the rest of his family wasn’t.

“Bring sweets from Lucknow for me, Payaliyaa, when you returns,” Mami said. “Now your sister is the malkin of a sweetshop, asks her to sends me the best, Hello Hi Bye Bye!”

“Ji, Saasumma,” Payal smiled slightly.

“I will miss you, Payalji. Aapke bina yeh ghar…” Anjali sighed. “But it is natural that you want to visit your family.”

“Payal bhabi, get me a bride from Lucknow. Ek susheela, shanti, bharti-ya naari,” NK smiled, his eyes twinkling with eagerness.

Mamaji chuckled. “Ye lo! Bitwaa, you want Susheela, Shanti, Bharti, and Naari or will one of them do?”

All guffawed.

Arnav alone stared at his plate, his mind lost in Khushi.

“Payal,” he called.

Payal looked up at him, her wide eyes wary.

“When are you leaving?” he asked.

“Tomorrow, if it is alright with every one.” Payal said.

“Let me know when you get to Lucknow.” ASR instructed.

“Ji,” Payal said. She hesitated. “Arnavji, I was wondering—has Khushi left anything here? I mean, clothes or jootis—if she has, I will take them with me,” she offered timidly.

“No, she has left nothing,”ASR lied. All he had of Khushi were a few clothes. And memories that ate in to his sleep. How could he let them go? What would he do if he lost them too? How would he live on?

            ***

Khushi stood, stirring the halwa mixture in the big vat, sweat dripping down her neck, back and legs as the fire raged bright under many huge vessels in the small enclosure behind the shed that housed Satwik Mishtan Bhandar.

“Khushi didi, the batter for making jalebis has been sitting long enough. Will you make them or shall I?” asked Munna.

Khushi hesitated. She looked at the orange mixture, feeling a strong reluctance to touch it.

“You make it, Munna. I don’t want to make jalebi,” she said.

Munna gasped. “Are you sure, didi?”

“Yes.”

“Jalebi Express of Lucknow does not want to make jalebi?” Munna wondered, unable to believe his ears.

Khushi frowned. “I don’t know why, Munna. But I feel that jalebis are such sad sweets.”

Krishna set down the ladle. “Sad sweets? Sweets can be sad or happy?” This was knowledge for him.

“Yes. All coiled up, dripping sugar, orange colour. It is complicated, twisted, like the thoughts in my head. No more jalebis for me,” Khushi declared, frowning at the batter.

Munna and Krishna looked at each other and nodded.

“Theek he, didi. I will make them. You scold the halwa and make it set properly in its thali. I will deal with the crooked jalebis.” Munna teased her to make her smile.

“Yes, if you frown enough at the halwa, it will jump out of the vat, walk to the thali by itself, grease it, and lie down to set. Our terrorist Khushi didi is so scary,” Krishna added.

Khushi giggled, pretending to shoot down the boys with an imaginary smoking gun, the worry vanishing as though it hadn’t been.

          ***

“Jiji,” Khushi hugged Payal till her ribs were in danger of being crushed.

The Guptas smiled, their eyes moist at Khushi’s excitement.

“Leave me, pagal,” Payal laughed. “Are you loving me or punishing me?

“Both. Loving you because you are my Jiji and punishing you because you didn’t come sooner.” Khushi laughed.

Payal’s phone rang.

She looked at the display and then at Buaji. She silently mouthed, 'Arnavji'.

“Titliyaa, tanik rasoyighar jao aur chai keliye pani chadao. Your Jiji must be tired and thirsty, Nandkisore.” Buaji pushed Khushi towards the kitchen.

Khushi went dancing towards the kitchen, delirious with joy that her Jiji was back home.

“Arnavji?” Payal asked.

“Have you reached home, Payal?”

“Ji. Mohanji got me here on time.” Payal said softly.

“You met your family?”

“Ji.”

“How is Buaji?”

“Ji? She is fine. Healthy.” Payal said, sending a worried look towards the kitchen.

“Your Amma & Babuji?”

“Ji, they are healthy too. Babuji is better.”

“K…khushi?” ASR came to the point.

“She is happy. Safe. Lucknow is her home and she knows everyone here. So she is happy.” Payal whispered, her eyes in the direction of the kitchen.

Amma, Babuji and Buaji looked at each other.

“H…her business?”

“I didn’t get a chance to ask, Arnavji. I  haven’t entered the house yet. I am still standing in the yard.”

“You go in. I will call you after some time,” ASR cut the call.

Payal sighed. “What will we do, Buaji?”

“Nothing,” Buaji said. “Just try not to push Titliyaa in to his path again. As long as he is in Delhi and she is here, it is alright, Nandkisore.”

“He doesn’t sleep at night, Buaji. He doesn’t eat. He keeps on asking about Khushi. He works all day and night.” Payal was almost in tears. “You should see him, Buaji.”

Buaji sighed. “Only Nandkisore knows what is in store for him. And the pagli with us.”

          ***

Payal shut the door of the bedroom she used to share with Khushi in the old days, took fresh clothes out of her suitcase and moved towards the bathroom.

Her phone rang. It was Akash.

After cooing sweet nothings, she cut the phone and walked in to the bathroom with it. It was not safe to leave it out in the open. What if Khushi checked the contact list?

As she hung the clothes on the rail, her phone rang again. Dadi, Saasumma, NK and Di wanted to talk to her, all at the same time. They all wanted to know about Khushi.

She had forgotten to get a towel. Talking to them, she began looking for one without success. As soon as the call ended, she placed the phone on the bed and began to look in earnest. She finally found one and left for the bathroom bearing it, forgetting the phone lying on her bed.

Khushi knocked on the door. “Jiji, I need to get the keys to Satwik Mistan Bhandar. The boys are waiting. Can I come in?”

There was silence.

Khushi kept her ear on the door and listened. She could hear the shower working in the bathroom. She pushed the door open and marched to the table on which the keys were kept.

As she walked to the door with the key, Payal’s phone rang.

It might be Jiju, Khushi thought, her eyes dancing with excitement. She could tease him. She grabbed the phone and trilled, “Jiju!”

There was perfect silence from the other end.

“Jiju? You are my Akash Jiju, aren’t you?” Khushi asked, uncertain. A gust of wind teased the fringes of her hair.

Silence.

Khushi looked at the bathroom door and at the phone uneasily.

“Hum Khushi he. Jiji is taking a shower. Aap baad mein phoone keejiye.”

Silence.

“Acha, you don’t want to talk? If you don’t want to talk, then why did you call?” Khushi asked, genuinely curious. “Hum phoone rakh rahein he. Woh kya he, hamein bahut kaam he. I have to make kheer. Namaste.” She cut the call and went dancing to the door, the key in her hand.

The phone slipped from ASR’s numb fingers and fell to the ground.

Part 4

Arnav sat hunched on the recliner and looked at the phone lying on the floor, his fingers clasped together between his knees.

Khushi—he had heard Khushi’s voice. His heart clenched in pain and pleasure at such unexpected good fortune.

Khushi…Khushi…She had sounded well, happy. She had imagined him to be Akash. She had meant to tease Akash. Silence from his side had unnerved her…no, his silence hadn’t unnerved her. Her voice had conveyed only mild confusion. 

He frowned, perplexed.

Arnav ran his fingers through his hair.

How come she hadn’t suspected that it was him? How come she had been so cheerful?

And how come she hadn’t known that it was him? When he had called her from Shyam’s dungeon, she had known that it was him even before he had uttered a word. How had she become so oblivious, so carefree?

He grabbed the phone and called Payal. The phone rang but a Payal, singing Bheegi bheegi raaton mein in the shower heard nothing.

He called Akash.

“Bhai?” Akash’s calm voice filled his ear.

“Akash, give me the landline number and address of Payal’s house in Lucknow. Now.” ASR was back in full force.

Akash did not even try to demur.

           ***

A moment later, ASR called the Guptas at Gomti Sadan.

“Hellooo, kaun he, Nandkisore?” Buaji asked.

“Buaji, it is me, Arnav,” he said softly, but with a sense of urgency in his tone.

Buaji’s hand tightened on the handle of the receiver.

She looked around. Khushi was out in the front yard instructing Munna & Krishna on their work. Drawing in a deep breath, she whispered, “Arnav babua, kaisen ho?”

“I am fine, Buaji. How are you?"

Buaji said, trying to smile, “I am old, babua. Feeling the aches and pains of old age. As are Garima and Sasi babua.” She tried to cut him off before he asked about Khushi. “You called to see if Payaliyaa has reached here safely, didn’t you? She reached here on time and is now taking a bath. Are you in your office, babua?”

ASR refused to be distracted. “Buaji, can I speak to Khushi?”

Buaji felt her heart stop.

She said, “Bitwaa, she is trying to forget all the terrible things that happened in the past. It will be better if you don’t talk to her.”

“Buaji…”

“And she is not here, Nandkisore. She has gone out to her sweet shop,” Buaji found excuses.

Arnav swallowed hard in disappointment.

“Hum phoone rakte hein, Nandkisore. You take care of yourself,” Buaji made haste to cut the call.

“Buaji!” he heard Khushi’s sweet call before Buaji could cut the call.

His fingers firmed on the phone.

Buaji dropped the receiver in its cradle in a hurry, not noticing that the receiver hadn’t fallen fully in place.

“Who is it on the phone, Buaji?” Khushi asked.

“It was…woh…it was Payaliyaa’s jetji. Aren’t you going to the shop, Titliyaa?” Buaji could feel a bead of sweat making its way down her throat.

“I am going, Buaji. Jiji’s jetji? Jiji has a jetji? How many brothers does Jiji have?” Khushi asked.

ASR felt his hand tremble and his eyes widen in shock.

“Two,” Buaji sighed.

“Two?” ASR could hear Khushi breathe in deep in envy and astonishment. “Two brothers?”

ASR’s mouth fell open in astonishment. What was happening in Lucknow? Why was Khushi asking such nonsensical questions? She knew very well that he and NK were Payal's brothers.

Buaji noticed that the receiver was awry and quickly straightened it, thereby cutting the call and ending Arnav’s access to their conversation.

“Buaji, why didn’t they come with Jiji?” Khushi asked.

Buaji struggled to find an answer. “Titliyaa, they have work to do. They have to feed their families. They can’t be forever running to Lucknow to see you. Ab jao. Don’t eat my head any further.”

“Buaji, they have families? Are they married? Do they have childr…?” Khushi asked in excitement, already seeing herself plotting a hundred tricks with an army of kids.

“Chup raho, Nandkisore! How many times should I ask you not to disturb me with your questions?” Buaji was on the verge of tears.

Khushi pouted. “All right, Madhumati Gupta. I will baksh you now.” A big smile blossomed on her face. “But I will be back from the shop, full of vim & vigour. Then where will you run from me?” Khushi pinched Buaji’s chin as she left the house, laughing.

                          ***

Anjali looked at her Chotey with shock in her eyes.

He was pushing his designer clothes in to a black leather holdall with scant care for their condition, grabbing his phone, dropping his pills in to the bag and looking around the room to see if he had left something behind, all at the same time, frantic, wan, his hands trembling, his movements jerky.

“Chotey, kya hua? Where are you going? What happened?” Anjali asked, pale in expectation of bad news.

“Di, I am going to Khushi. I mean, Lucknow.” He looked around his room.

“Khushiji? What…why…kya…Chotey?” Anjali gasped.

Mami & Nani came in to the room.

 “Bhat ijj happenings?”  Mami asked, her painted eyes round with shock.

“Chotey?” Nani asked.

“There is something wrong with Khushi. I am going to Lucknow,” ASR declared, his heart thundering in his chest, a sense of urgency flooding him.

Nani’s face became stern.

“There may be something wrong with Khussi bitiyaa. But who are you to enquire about her?” Nani asked.

ASR paled.

“You are not her husband, Chotey. You gave up all claim to her,” Anjali rubbed it in.

ASR looked at her, pain in his eyes.

Steeling her heart against his obvious distress, Mami asked, “Arnav Bitwaa, if the Guptas asks you bhy you have come to asks after Khussi, bhat bill you says?”

“There is something wrong with her, Di,” Arnav whispered. “She—she was asking Buaji how many brothers Akash had.”

Anjali, Nani & Mami looked at each other, mystified.

“How many brothers Akass bitwaa hajj? Bhy should Khussi asks that when she was married to one and joking with the other for a good part of this year?” Mami asked, her plucked brows making a statement in the air.

“Khussi bitiyaa asked such a question?” Nani frowned.

“And Buaji was trying to keep me from talking to Khushi,” Arnav said.

“I won’t blame her for that, Chotey,” Nani was vocal in her condemnation of him. “It says much about the sanskaar of the Guptas that they are still talking to you. Had it been any other family, they would have taken Payaliyaa and Khussi bitiyaa away and we would not have seen either of them all our lives.”

ASR brushed it all aside. “I am going to Lucknow. I have to see Khushi.”

“Why should they let you inside their home, Chotey?” Anjali asked.

“Or let Khussi meet you?” Mami asked.

“I have to see her, make sure she is fine…” ASR declared.

Nani frowned. “Khussi bittiyaa asked how many brothers Akash bitwaa has?”

All looked at her, silent.

“Did she ask about us?” Nani asked.

“No,” ASR replied.

“How can Khussi bitiyaa forget us?” Nani worried. A moment later she said, “I am coming with you, Chotey. I want to be certain that she is happy.”

“I am comings too, Sasumma.” Mami declared.

“Me too, Nani,” Anjali joined them.

“Call Akash bitwaa and NK bitwaa too. They won’t want to miss a chance to see Khussi bitiyaa,” Nani said.

The ladies nodded.

“Chotey, kindly wait for us to pack,” Nani instructed him. "We are accompanying you."

ASR could only nod.

Part 5

“Akash, you didn’t mention it to Payal, did you, that we will be reaching Lucknow soon?” ASR asked, his voice clipped.

“No, Bhai. You said you wanted to drop in unannounced,” Akash hitched his glasses up his nose.

“Drop in naahi. Avoid being kicked out,” irrepressible Mami said.

“Manno!” Mamaji tried to rebuke his wife.

“Manorama is right. In this instance,” Nani sighed.

“It will rain today, with thunder and lightning. Saasumma has actually agreed with me, Hello Hi Bye Bye!” Mami whispered in her husband’s ear.

“I hope the Guptas don’t rain abuses on us, Manno,” poor Mamaji said. He frowned. “But why did Khussi bitiyaa ask how many brothers Akass bitwaa has?”

“Maybe because she did not want to remember Arnav bitwa’s cutting tongues and NK bitwaa’s Hindi?” Mami suggested.

“Maasi!” NK protested.

All frowned at her attempt at levity. 

            ***

“Buaji, I am going to the temple,” Khushi jumped up from the breakfast table, carrying her plate to the kitchen to wash and dry.

“Kyon, Titliyaa? After talking your Jiji’s ear off, you are going to harass Devi Maiyya?” Buaji teased her.

Khushi laughed. “Devi Maiyya is the only one who doesn’t complain about my chatter, Buaji. She is the only one who truly loves me.” Khushi wiped her face on Garima’s pallu.

“Acha, Nandkisore? Then hamra parem jhoota he? Jaali note jaisen?” Buaji pretended to be sad, her face drooping.

Payal, Garima & Babuji smiled.

Khushi hugged Buaji till she gasped for breath. “Buaji, you are the best Buaji in the whole world.”

Buaji said, gasping, “Chodo hamein, Sanka Devi!”

“I wil pray for your Nandkisore to appear before you soon,” Khushi pinched Buaji’s chin.

Buaji freed herself  and folded her hands in appeal. “Jao, Nandkisore! Go and nag your Devi Maiyya. Only she can put up with you, you nautanki.”

All laughed as Khushi tripped out of the room, humming a half-forgotten melody.

She left behind silence.

“What did she ask you last night, Payaliyaa?” Buaji asked.

“About my husband and his family, about her parents…”, Payal sighed.

“Hai Re Nandkisore!” Buaji hit her head with her hand.

“My poor child!” Garima’s eyes filled. “Jiji, when I see her laughing…”

“It is better this way, Garima. She is happy. She has forgotten everything unpleasant. Let her remain like this. I can’t bear to see her as she was during that first month away from Arnav babua, Nandkisore.” Buaji stated.

Babuji nodded.

Payal’s phone rang.

“Akash,” Payal blushed as she left the room with her phone.

           ***

“Payal, is Khushiji with you?” Akash asked, his eyes on Arnav.

Payal smiled. “No, she has gone to the temple. We can speak without fear of being overheard.”

Akash obeyed his brother’s instructions conveyed through gestures.

“Which temple? Is it far from your house?” he asked.

“Maa Purvi Devi Temple,” Payal smiled. “It is close by, almost next door. But don’t worry. Khushi won’t be back anytime soon. She will chat with all the chachas and mamas there and then go on to the shop.”

“Maa Purvi Devi Temple,” Akash repeated.

Payal frowned. “Akash, are you alright?”

“Yes, just busy. I—I will see you—I mean, call you later.” Akash cut the call.

Payal frowned at the phone, a perplexed smile on her face.

       ***

“Turn left here, Nannav,” NK repeated the instructions of the navigator. “Two hundred metres and you will see the temple on the right. Yes, here it is.”

ASR parked his vehicle in front of the temple, feeling his heart beating very fast. His fingers trembled on the steering wheel. He looked up at the steps leading to the temple. She was here. He could feel her in the air.

He unlocked the door and alighted.

The Raizadas looked at each other, uncertain. Slowly, they left the huge vehicle and stretched the cramped muscles of their limbs.

“I—I will meet her first,” Arnav muttered, covering his eyes with his sunglasses.

The others nodded.

They watched him walk up the steps.

“Nani…” Anjali whispered, fear in her voice.

“Whatever has to happen will happen, Anjali bitiyaa,” the elderly woman murmured.

          ***

Khushi finished praying to Devi Maiyya, laying her long list of demands for everyone she knew at Her divine feet. She bid farewell to her best friend and turned to walk down the steps to the lower level and then the road.

A gentle breeze played with the strands of her hair.

Khushi smiled, looking around. It was a beautiful morning, with mild, golden light falling on the ancient temple and the trees encircling the hallowed structure, pigeons cooing, devotees thronging to the shrine, ringing bells in piety…

The naughty wind blew her red and yellow dupatta over her head, blinding her. Smiling, Khushi pulled down the flimsy cloth to see a man dressed in dark blue coat and trousers, a pale blue shirt and a dark blue and gold tie standing before her.

Why was this man dressed like this? she wondered, taming her dupatta to fall around her neck. Was he a foreigner?

As she watched, he lifted his hand towards her as though seeking help.

Khushi caught hold of his hand. A frisson of disquieting sensation travelled down her spine. Khushi frowned and looked up at his pale face.

‘Khushi, the man wants help. And you are standing here staring at him like the village idiot?’ she chastised herself.

“Aayiye,” Khushi led Arnav by the hand to a bench. “Please sit down.”

Arnav sat.

“If you are blind, why can’t you bring someone with you to the temple? What if you fall down these steps?” Khushi asked.

Arnav’s mouth fell open.

Slowly, his hand removed the glasses, letting her see his shocked caramel orbs.

Khushi frowned, feeling uneasy, the nerves of her head tightening painfully, the muscles of her stomach cramping.

“You are not blind?” Khushi asked. “Acha. That’s good.” She looked around to make sure that she was in familiar surroundings, desperately wanting something to anchor her trembling limbs to the ground.

“Khussi bitiyaa, who is this?” Ramu chacha came to stand by her, a frown on his face.

“I don’t know, Chacha. Lagta he pardesi he. He was not feeling well. So I—so I just…” Khushi stammered to a stop.

“Bitiya, don’t worry your head about this stranger. I will look after him. You have to go to the shop, right?” Ramu chacha asked.

Khushi nodded, frowning.

“You go, bitiyaa,” the gruff voice carried a caress.  “Don’t frown. It doesn’t look good on my gudiya’s face.”

Khushi smiled at the elderly man, stole one last glance at the stranger and left them.

The Raizadas watched Khushi walk past them, adjusting the dupatta around her neck, her face wan, her pace fast. Her eyes fell on them.

Nani raised her hand to summon her but lowered it in shock as Khushi walked past.

There was no sign of recognition in her Khussi bitiya’s eyes.