126. Recalling Arnav 2 (Part 5 onwards)

Part 5

JIYA

Part 5

Arnav left for Delhi early in the morning, long before Khushi woke up from her exhausted sleep.

"Would you like to return with me?" he asked Nani, Mami and Anjali.





"No, not when Khussi bitiyaa needs us," Nani replied. "Our family has taken too much away from her, Chotey."

Arnav nodded. "I will return in a week. Khushi will decide what our future is going to hold," he said.

"Who can blame her if she doejj not want to see ujj again?", Mami asked. 
"Bahut emosional attyachar hui gawa, Hello Hi Bye Bye."





Anjali sighed. "Chotey, how can we make it up to her? All of us are guilty of hurting her."





"I don't know, Di," he said before lifting his bag to leave. "I don't know."

 







Khushi woke up to see Buaji sitting by her bed.

"Titliyaa, are you alright? Is your head hurting, Nandkisore?" she asked, her forehead creased in worry.

"No, Buaji," Khushi tried to smile. She threw her arms around Buaji and hugged her tight. "I am perfectly fine. I will be going to Satwik Mistaan Bhandaar in a few minutes."


"Titliyaa, take rest," Buaji suggested.

"Buaji, that's all I have been doing for days. If I rest anymore, my bed will complain of misuse. Let me get up and get back to normal life," she said smiling.

"You are alright, aren't you, Nandkisore?" Buaji asked again.

"My memory has returned fully, Buaji. Now you don't have to worry. I will be alright," she asserted.

"Arnav Bitwaa has returned to Delhi for a week," Buaji said.

"Yes, he told me," she replied.

"He has  a lot of parem for you, Titliyaa. He was sitting by you while you were sleeping, worrying about you, Nandkisore," Buaji recommended.

"Parem does not solve problems, Buaji. It only creates problems," she smiled, her eyes bruised, before leaving the bed.

Buaji sighed.









Khushi rolled ladoos with both hands, quickly filling a huge plate with a mountain of ladoos. The halwa was done. Munna had made the jalebi. She looked at the pile of jalebi with distaste. She had made them whenever she had been upset. No more. Making jalebi would not solve her problems anymore.

She looked at the golden yellow mixture in the huge pan waiting for her to turn them in to ladoo. She pulled an empty plate close to her and began shaping the mixture in to ladoo.

Arnavji had returned to Delhi. This time she could choose whether to send him away or share her life with him. The image of her waiting at the mandap rushed to her mind. 





The pink & green wedding dress, the jewellery, the fire in the havan kund, 




the tears, the violent hatred of Dadi,  




the never-ending wait for Arnavji...





His cowardice on Diwali night, his callous words at her doorstep,

 

the incident at the boutique when he had hurt and humiliated her by offering her a dress as a tip for services rendered,









the moment when he had shred her heart in to pieces by gifting Lavanyaji the necklace she had admired...








Khushi shut her eyes in pain.










"Jab tum mere paas hoti ho, tab tumhare dil ki dhadkanon ke saath saath mere dil ki dhadkanein bhi tez ho jaati he. Hamari dhadkanein ek ho jaati he. Jo tum mehsoos karti ho, woh mein mehsoos karta hoon..."

"Khushi meri patni he..."


"Khushi, I love you..."






A small smile bloomed on her face. He had protected her against his Dadi, had almost died when he found her lifeless body after they had escaped the kidnappers, 



had built her a new sky of stars just for her...

Tears filled her eyes.



"Didi, you don't have to add salt to the ladoo," Krishna tried to make light of her tears.

"Didi, are you so moved seeing the beauty of the jalebi I made? You don't have to cry. Just praise me," Munna tried to cheer her up.





Khushi smiled at the boys.





Arnav called at night.

"Khushi, how are you?" he asked.




"Fine," she answered, her tone mellow.



"I finalised the purchase of a new house for Sunehri. Apparently she is good at tailoring. So I have made arrangements for her to start a tailoring unit at her new house. She can supply her products to apparel stores in the city," he explained.

Khushi said nothing.




"How did your day go?" he asked. "Did you take rest?"

"Rest? No, I went to my shop. I had work waiting for me," she said calmly.

Arnav opened his mouth to protest and then thought better of it. What right did he have to order her about or dictate her movements when he had failed her at the moment she had needed him the most?

"It is better to be occupied," Khushi explained casually. "And orders have to be met. I can't leave all the work to the boys."

"Yes," Arnav had to agree. "Did you have dinner?" he asked.

"Yes," she said but did not ask about him.

"NK, Akash, & Mama asked me to convey their regards to you," he said.

"That is kind of them," she said, yawning.

"I will let you sleep now. Good night, Khushi," he said.

"Shubh raatri," she wished.




"Khussi bitiyaa, I am sorry," Nani said.

Khushi looked at her, her face expressionless.

"First it was Shyam and the misunderstanding. Then Anjali and her miscarriage. And finally the marriage that was cancelled. I thought our cruelty against you had ended there. I didn't know," Nani said as she wiped her tears away.

"It was not your fault, Naniji," Khushi said.

"But Chotey," Anjali said.




"It was not entirely his fault too. I should have informed him about Shyam's duplicity earlier. He would have refused to believe me, would have blamed me for the mess, but it would have made him think. I wish...I wish I had confided in him. It would have helped him deal with Shyam in an effective manner, long before he could do serious damage. The kidnapping would never have happened had I not played in to Shyam's hands," Khushi said thoughtfully.

"What is the use of crying over the past?" Garima asked.

Buaji nodded. "What are you going to do in the future, Nandkisore?"

"I don't know, Buaji. I... I am very scared," she confessed.



Part 6

Arnav called the next night.

“Khushi, how are you?” he asked, his husky voice undermining her defences against him.

“What can go wrong with me?” she asked in a cool tone. “I have lost everything. I have nothing more to lose. So I am happy,” she said.

Arnav shut his eyes in pain.

They sat in two cities, linked by bonds that wouldn’t die even if they tried to kill it.

Arnav drew in a deep breath. He too had nothing more to lose. His life was in shambles; his head was a mess. Peace was a thing of the past. All he had left was the hope that Khushi would forgive him, would let him back in to her life.

He started talking about nothing, an exercise he was not very familiar with.

“Khushi, I am sitting in our room,” he began.

Khushi said nothing.

“I am sitting before the laptop,” he continued. “HP has left the medicine box on my table. After I have dinner downstairs, I will have my pills, Khushi,” he said.

Khushi sat passive, listening to him.

“Laxmi misses you, Khushi. She comes to peek in to my room six or seven times every day, but never enters it because she knows that you are not here. HP asked me again when you are coming home,” he said softly, finding it easy to talk to her now that he had started.

Khushi swallowed.

“I opened the wardrobe to take my clothes, Khushi. And then I saw your suits,” he said.

She frowned.

“Suits in all colours of the rainbow, hanging right next to my black, brown and blue coats,” he said.

Khushi shut her eyes. She had left them behind when she had been pushed out of the house by Dadi. And later, she hadn’t bothered to get them, thinking that she would be joining Arnavji in his room soon anyway.

“I am so glad you left them behind, Khushi. They smell of you. They remind me of you. So cheerful, so full of colour, always optimistic,” he added.

Khushi tried to still her quivering lips.

“I think I would have gone mad if I didn’t have them to cling on, Khushi. These six months…I cannot remember a worse time, Khushi. And to think that you were suffering alone in Lucknow, losing our baby…” his voice died away.

Khushi said nothing, feeling her heart hurt.

“I will never forgive myself for the miscarriage, Khushi. Never. Even if you forgive me, I will never forgive myself,” he whispered through a choked throat.

Silent tears rolled down Khushi’s cheeks.

“I did not keep my promise to you, Khushi. I was wrong to abandon you without finding out the facts. Even if your Amma had been the other woman in my parents’ marriage, even if my Mama had killed herself because of your Amma, I should not have left you at the mandap. I should have married you. The rest could have been sorted out later,” he whispered.

“I am glad we did not marry in hatred,” Khushi whispered. “I could not have lived through another hate marriage. Once was enough.”

“Khushi,” Arnav protested.

“Listening to your harsh words, seeing the anger and the disgust in your eyes, pretending that everything was fine so that your family wouldn’t worry…I did it once. No more,” she sighed.

             ***

“He was like a hermit, Khushiji,” Anjali said softly, trying to impress upon Khushi that Arnav had suffered too in his own way. “He wouldn’t eat on time, wouldn’t sleep. Chotey spent all his time before his laptop, staring at the screen.”

“His cheekbones were standing out. Bilkul modaals (models) ki tarah, Hello Hi Bye Bye,” Mami said.

“I was scared he would fall sick,” Nani said. “You know him well, Khussi bitiyaa. It is impossible to make him eat when he doesn’t want to.”

“Before he met you I used to think, Khushiji, that Arnav Singh Raizada had buried my Arnav and my Chotey where they couldn’t be found again. I thought his silence, his loneliness, his sharp tongue, his anger and the distance he was creating between him and the world were not healthy. I wanted him to change. You changed him. You made him smile, made him want to live. You made him see that the world was not as bad as he had imagined it to be. But when he pushed you out of his life, he became someone I could not recognise, someone worse than Arnav Singh Raizada,” Anjali said.

“Half-dead,” Nani lamented.

“Hamre Arnav bitwaa would stare at the paratha on his plate as though it had taken a loan of 1 crore from him and not repaid it, Hello Hi Bye Bye,” Mami said.

Khushi sat listening to them, saying nothing in response.

               ***

“Khushi, I am sitting on the recliner, looking at the bed. Tumhe yaad he, how I used to sleep here and you used to take the bed? I would spend all my time staring at you, wishing I were sharing your white blanket with small red roses on it,” he said.

Khushi looked out through the window of her room.

“If only I had asked you about your relationship with Shyam, if only I had bothered to find out more about him…” he lamented.

“Where is he now?’ she asked.

“In jail. He won’t get out anytime soon,” he promised her.

She remained silent.

“I had my dinner and have taken my pills, Khushi,” he said. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Did you have a lot of work at the shop today?” he asked.

“Three orders. There is a wedding in the neighbourhood, one birthday party and one engagement. I am tired. Shubh raatri,” she said.

               ***

He was supposed to return on Tuesday.

He called on Sunday. “Khushi, I don’t think I will be able to leave here on Tuesday.  I will need another couple of days,” he said.

There was perfect silence at the other end.

“I have been working non-stop all day, Khushi. All week, in fact. But the work load,” he paused.

There was silence for a long moment. Then she asked, “Arnavji, have you eaten something? What about your medicine? Have you taken it?”

Arnav fell back against the recliner in relief. His Khushi was back.

Part 7

Arnav took care not to call Khushi on Tuesday as he set out from Delhi. He wanted to surprise her.

The two families were gathered in the courtyard of Gomti Sadan when he walked in at night, his bag and a cover in his hands. He greeted them, his eyes looking for Khushi.

“Where is Khushi, Buaji?” he asked.

“She will get home in ten minutes, bitwaa. She and the boys are waiting for Madan Lalji to collect his sweets,” Buaji said.

“She called twice to ask if you had come, bitwaa,” Garima said.

Arnav drew in a deep breath tinged with hope.

               ***

Khushi came home half an hour later to see everyone in the courtyard. She looked her enquiry at Garima, but the older lady pretended not to notice. 

The Raizada ladies looked at Khushi, wondering if she would ask about Arnav.

 Finally Khushi asked, “Did Arnavji come home?”

All heaved a sigh of relief.

Before Garima could reply, Mami said, “No, he didn’t. Khussi bitiyaa, hamre Arnav bitwaa gayab hui gawa. I don’t know why he hasn’t come yet.”

Khushi paled. “I will be back in a moment, Mamiji,” she excused herself.

She walked up the steps in a daze. Where was Arnavji? It was late. Was he driving? What if he had fallen asleep at the wheel? she thought, her fingers curling around the railing for strength. Was he ill? What if he had forgotten to take his food or medicines on time and was at that very moment unconscious? Her feet dragged as she made her difficult way up the steps to her room.

What could she do? she fretted. Her heart sank to her feet. She would call him when she reached her room, she thought, walking unsteadily to her room.

The door was shut.

She pushed open the panels with an urgent, trembling hand  to stand shocked at the sight of a bouquet of red roses lying on her pillow.

She stared at it for a moment and then slowly walked towards it, feeling her heart settle in her ribcage. Arnavji was home; he was safe. She touched one soft, velvety petal with a shaking finger.

“You love red roses, don’t you?” he asked, standing behind her.

She turned around and looked at him, scared to speak, uncertain, unsure. His molten eyes and his husky voice cast a net around her that she was unable to, loath to escape.

He took the bouquet and handed it over to her. She looked at it for a long moment and then took it from him, her pale fingers holding the fragrant gift gingerly as though it would jump out of its cover and bite her on the nose.

 “Thank you,” she whispered looking down at the flowers.

Arnav cupped her cheeks in his hands and lifted her face to look in to his.

“No, thank you,” he said honestly.

She looked at him, a question in her eyes.

“For putting up with me, my anger, my blindness, my cruelty…” he said, unable to complete the sentence.

Khushi nodded slightly and looked away.

“Khushi, let’s start over again,” he pleaded. “Give me another chance. I won’t fail you this time,” he promised.

Khushi swallowed hard.

“I am Arnav Singh Raizada,” he introduced himself, extending his hand for her to shake.

Khushi looked at the hand and then at his earnest face. 

He waited.

Her hands remained around the flowers, tightening slightly around the bouquet.

He caught her arm in a gentle grip and led her to her bed. He sat her down and kneeled before her, his arms on the bed holding her in.

“I am Arnav Singh Raizada, a Laad Governaar, a Rakshas,” he said.

Khushi squirmed and turned her head away.

Arnav sighed in heart-felt sorrow. What had he done to this naive, innocent girl?

“I—I love you, Khushi,” he said, realising that she was in no mood for games, knowing that being direct would help him more with her.

Khushi did not look at him.

“I broke my promise to marry you, Khushi. I won’t, this time. I am ready to marry you whenever you want, wherever you want,” he said, his low voice throbbing with his sincerity.

Khushi looked at him.

“Why? Because you finally found out that my Amma was not the woman who killed your Mama?” she asked wryly.

“No, because I have reached the limit of my endurance. I can’t live without you, Khushi,” he whispered.

“Is this proposal prompted by your pity for me? After all I am the fool who believed your promises and found myself pregnant and unmarried. I am the idiot who fell down the steps and lost your baby,” she smiled cynically.

“Khushi,” he protested.

“Don’t mind me asking. With you it pays to be clear,” she said warily.

“Khushi, I want to marry you because I can’t live without you and I know you love me too. Had we not visited you in Lucknow and found out about the baby, I would have still come to you by now. I was dying in Delhi without you, struggling to draw breath, feeling each moment drag to eternity. Marry me, Khushi. Please,” he begged.

Khushi looked at him kneeling at her feet.

They stayed so for long moments and then she said slowly, “I managed once. If you—if you cheat me a second time, I—I will not be able to…” Her voice died away.

Arnav felt his eyes well up. He blinked and said, “I will marry you when you want, where you want, Khushi. I will marry you and consider myself very very lucky to call you my wife.”

“This is not love, Arnavji,” she said softly. “Whatever is between us, it is not love. It is—it is a curse.”

“No, Khushi. It is a blessing,” he averred. He laid his head on her lap and coiled his arms around her waist. 

They sat for long.

Finally he asked, “Khushi?”

She said, “I will give you an answer tomorrow.”

Part 8

Arnav & Khushi VM: Saiyyan (Gunday)