140. OS 5: A Playful Love (Section 13-)

Section 13

ASR lay in bed at night, his eyes on the ceiling, cursing himself for having hurt Khushi. He had never thought of her as an orphan, as someone who had been adopted in to the Gupta family. She had always been Payal’s sister to him and more importantly, someone he wanted close to him 24x7, someone he couldn’t do without...

But he had never voiced his liking for her in the one month he had her with him in the office, never found words to penetrate the wall of innocence that protected her heart, never vocalised his need for her except by insisting on her presence in his office and scolding her for no fault of hers, just because it gave him great pleasure to display his right on Khushi...

 He sat up, disgusted with himself.

His silence about his feelings had scuppered his slow wooing of Khushi, an odd courtship comprising work and rebukes, reprimands and reproach.

 He shook his head in acute anguish.

 His shy brother, Akash knew how to charm Payal and Khushi. Hell, even that fool of an NK had everyone eating out of his hands. Why was he alone so emotionally challenged, so verbally deficient that he could not inform the girl he cared for that he liked her?

He must be the only Ranjha on earth who had driven his Heer away, weeping and angry enough to attempt his murder by her own fair hands!

Khushi stood by her open window looking out at a moonlit sky, a light cool breeze playing with the loose strands of hair lying around her shoulders.

“And I, Khushi? What am I to you?” he had asked.

 Khushi shut her eyes in pain. How could she tell him what he was to her? That every moment of each day, her mind lingered on him. That he was all she thought about...

Khushi crossed her arms, hugging herself in despair.

That her mind ran to him the moment she woke up. That she dreamed of him at night. That she spent the day wondering what he was doing? That her ears longed to hear his husky voice even if it was about work or complaining about her. That her shameless eyes always paused on his compelling, strong features and his broad shoulders and his long legs as he strode across the office, reluctant to move away, caught in the web of his charisma...

She leaned against the window frame weakly.

She had first laid eyes on Arnavji when Naniji and the others had brought Jiju’s proposal for Jiji. That had been a  moment of revelation. She had stood staring at him till Buaji had hit her on the head and said, “Titliyya, you are staring at the wrong man, Nandkisore. Akash bitwaa is going to be your Jijaji, not Arnav bitwaa. Pata nahi kahan akal chod aayi he, ye Parmeswari!”

She had hidden behind Jiji and cabinets and doors and peeped at him, stared at him with wide eyes, eager not to miss a glimpse of him.

When Jiju and Jiji had expressed their willingness to marry, she had been happier than Jiji, so happy that Amma had asked her if there was something wrong with her. And when Arnavji had suggested that she become his secretary, she had been speechless with delight.

She sighed at her folly, her eyes filling with weak tears.

She was foolish, totally, totally bewakoof, always thinking with her heart rather than her head. Her heart was the cause of all her problems, her pain, her humiliation, her insomnia... It had adopted Arnavji as its own and proceeded to show its haq over him, not stopping to think if he might feel differently.

Khushi drew in a deep breath. It was the desperation of an orphan to belong that had made her surrender her heart and head to Arnavji with no thought of self-preservation, leave herself open to attacks from him...She dried her wet cheeks. She was alone to cry, had been alone all her life and would probably be alone for the rest of it. It was high time she took care of herself, protected herself from hurt. No one else would do it for her.

‘Let Arnavji look in to his heart first and find out what I mean to him, if I mean something to him,’ she thought. ‘This time I won’t put my neck out, lay myself open to humiliation,’ she decided. ‘Anyway my ticket for Kanpur is booked for 11 August,’ she comforted herself.

Section 14

It was Rakshabandhan.

Khushi, Amma, Buaji and Babuji went to RM in the morning, their arms filled with sweets and gifts and greeted the Raizadas on the auspicious day with love and warmth.

NK came dancing down the steps, dressed in a pink kurta and pyjama, looking like a cherub. “Khushiji, I am ready. Where is my rakhi?” he asked eagerly. “Did you make jalebi or peda?”

“Both,” Khushi smiled. “And your rakhi is safe with me. Nanheji, stand here before Devi Maiyya,” she positioned NK.

ASR joined them, walking down the steps slowly, his eyes on Khushi dressed in a red, gold & green lehenga. The choli emphasised her curves and let him have glimpses of her shapely waist. He moved to get a good view of the enchanting sight, his lashes hiding the burning look in his eyes.

“Nannav, come here and stand in line. It is time for rakhi,” NK invited, all smiles, seeing Anjali and Payal prepare their thalis.

ASR’s eyes flew open.

He quickly made sure that he was not in the vicinity of Khushi and her rakhis and moved to the fringe of the crowd. He would rather be dead than be called her brother!

Khushi averted her eyes from ASR in a cream kurta, expending a lot of energy and will power to drag her gaze away from him to a smiling Nanheji standing before her. She applied a tilak on her Nanheji’s forehead, did his aarti while he smiled proudly and then tied the rakhi on his wrist.

“Is it time for the sweet, Khushiji?’ NK asked.

Khushi laughed and pushed first a jalebi and then a peda in to his mouth.

“The jodi of two chatoris has been made here today, Nandkisore!” Buaji exclaimed. “You should have been born in the same womb, two kids who are always hungry!”

All laughed in agreement.

Khushi turned away to place the thali on a table.

“Khushiji, wait,” NK said and turned to take two packets he had placed in Anjali’s safekeeping.

“Your gifts from your bhaiyya,” NK said smiling away.

“Two gifts, Nanheji?” Khushi asked curiously.

“To make up for all the years we missed, Khushiji,” NK laughed.

“Open it, open the gifat,” Mami said, excited.

Khushi opened the first one. It was a watch. It looked very expensive, designer as ASR would say.

“Shukriya, Nanheji,” she smiled.

“Only the best for you, Khushiji. You like it?” he asked.

“Bahut sundar he,” she smiled.

She opened the second gift. Ber.

She squealed in joy. “Nanheji, how did you know I love ber?” she asked, hugging the packet to her chest.

“Nannav told me,” NK laughed.

Khushi turned to look at ASR, shocked.

His quiet eyes rested on hers, waiting for her to admit that he meant something, everything to her.

“Looks like Nannav knows you very well, Khushiji,” NK added, his eyes on her disturbed countenance.

Her smile fell away completely.

“Khushiji, would you and Chotey like to practice your lines some more?” Anjali asked hopefully.

“No,” Khushi exclaimed. “I mean, no, there is no need. We know the lines now.”

“Are you sure, Khussi bitiyya?” Nani asked in disappointment.

“Yes, yes, we know them. I will see you in the evening, Naniji. Amma, Babuji, Buaji, we should be leaving,” Khushi was desperate in her desire to escape.

Section 15

The guests were taking their seats for dinner and NK was ensuring that the stage was ready, the lights dimmed and the ambience set.

“Khushi, is this enough?” Payal asked Khushi as she fastened the choker around Khushi’s neck.

Khushi looked at herself in the mirror, sitting on the padded stool before the floor-length mirror. The costume was red and figure-hugging. She adjusted the pin holding the dupatta on her head and said in a weak voice, “It seems alright, Jiji.”

“Kya hua, Khushi? You have acted in a hundred plays at school. Then why are you looking so scared tonight?” Payal’s forehead creased in a frown.

Khushi smiled with difficulty. “I am getting old, Jiji. I am scared I will forget the lines,” she tried to joke.

“Acha, Dadi Amma? Where is your cane? Where are your specs?” Payal asked. “Let me see. Are your teeth your own?”

Khushi smiled.

“Don’t worry, Khushi. Arnavji will support you, help you even if you miss a line or so. Woh he na?” Payal asked with all the fondness of a sister who had no idea what her brother was getting up to when she wasn’t looking.

Khushi smiled wryly. “Issi ka rona he,” she muttered.

“What?” Payal asked, perplexed.

“Not ‘what’? ‘What the’ kaho when you are talking about your Jetji,” Khushi smiled and tried to distract her sister.

“Khushiji, are you ready?” Anjali put her head around the door.

“Yes,” Khushi sighed.

“You look beautiful,” Anjali breathed.

 Payal smiled cheerfully.

 Khushi grimaced. Only Devi Maiyya knew how the evening would end. Maybe for the first time in history, Heer would force the poisoned laddoo on Ranjha just to get rid of the butterflies in her stomach that Ranjha was causing!

“Payalji, chaliye. Amma, Babuji and Buaji will be arriving any moment,” Anjali invited.

“Yes,” Payal agreed. “Khushi, shall we leave? Do you need anything more?”

“Should we stay?” Anjali asked.

“No, Jiji, Anjaliji. I will be fine,” Khushi set their minds at rest. She watched as the two ladies left her to her thoughts.

She looked at herself in the mirror. The maang tikka, the earrings, the choker, the bangles...

She lifted her arm and watched light play on the red glass bangles, turning them in to different shades of red. What would happen to her and Arnavji? She was leaving for Kanpur the next morning...

Khushi lifted her eyes to the mirror and saw him. Her eyes widened. He was in Ranjha’s dress and walking towards her on silent feet.

She sat as still as a statue made of stone, watching his image in the mirror with fascinated eyes. He came to stand behind her, his eyes on hers through the mirror.

She stood up.

He moved the stool out of the way and closed in on her.

As she watched, his arms came to rest on her shoulders.

She blinked her eyes.

“Khushi,” he whispered. “Who am I?” he asked.

“ASR,” she whispered back, her eyes trapped by his.

He waited.

“Jiji’s Jetji,” she continued.

His hands on her shoulders tightened. He moved in closer, the hard warmth of his body touching the full line of her back, his long legs cradling hers.

She tried to swallow but couldn’t. She broke out in a sweat, feeling her body tremble at the feel of his strong, rock-like, muscular body against her softness.

“Who am I?” he asked.

“My boss...ex-boss,” she whispered.

“Who am I?” he asked, feeling the fine tremble of her body against his. His hands tugged her shoulders to rest against him, her back against his front.

Khushi panted, the pulse point in the hollow of her throat pulsing madly.

“Ranjha...” It was a murmur but still a concession.

“To your Heer,” he admitted. “And?” he asked, lowering his head to rest his cheek against her soft one.

Khushi shivered visibly at the feel of his stubble against her baby soft cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“Who am I, Khushi?” he whispered, his lips touching her ear.

“Arnavji...” Khushi choked, whether as an admission or a warning she did not know.

“Yes,” he hissed in triumph and relief, his lips against the rim of her ear. “Your Arnavji,” he breathed in to her ear.

His hands moved down her arms to reach her wrists and then he coiled his fingers with hers. Slowly he brought their arms up, locking them around her waist and locking her against him.

“Call me Arnav, Khushi,” he demanded seductively, his lips kissing her ear lobe.

Khushi shook her head to mark her dissent.

“You won’t?” His question was asked against the line of her throat as his lips moved down from her ear to her neck.

Khushi shivered, overwhelmed by the sensuality of his touch. Panicking, she tried to escape him and succeeded in throwing his arms away from her. She faced him, her chest heaving, her lips parted and quivering, her eyes wild, her cheeks flushed.

“Kya hua, Khushi?” His husky drawl was her undoing.

She swallowed. His eyes traced the moving muscles of her throat with intense possessiveness.

“Is it difficult to draw breath, Khushi?” he asked.

She could only nod.

“Is your heart racing?” he asked.

She nodded.

“My heart is racing too. I too find it difficult to draw breath,” he whispered, his eyes serious.

She stared at him in shock.

“Why? Did you think that only you could be laid low by this disease?” he asked solemnly. “That I am incapable of feeling anything? That I don’t have  a heart?”

She parted her lips to ask him she knew not what.

“I am a man made of flesh and blood, Khushi. I too bleed when you cut me,” he whispered, his eyes grave.

NK knocked on the door. “Khushiji, it is time for the show. Did you see Nannav? Please ask him to come to the stage if you see him.”

“Yes, Nanheji,” Khushi said, trying to make her voice sound firm and steady.
                                              .............

Tum ye na samzo ke hum insaan nahi,
karharte nahi to kya hua? dard hume bhi hota hai,
Kuchh dikhate nahi to kya hua? dil humara bhi rota hai,
Khoon dikhata nahi to kya hua? ghav hume lagta hai,
Dil dikhata nahi to kya hua? Dhadakta to ye hamesha hai,

Sirf tumhare aur tumhare hi liye... Hamesha...


(By Arshipriya16, my friend, who feels for ASR)






HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!

Section 16