185. OS 9: The Diabetic and the Halwai (Part 4)

Wishing all of you a wonderful New Year!

Part 4

ASR took a leisurely shower, having all the time in the world to enjoy it. He had no office to go to. He was far from the mad bustle of Delhi. And he was getting a veg pijja from a feisty Lucknow goddess for lunch. A smile played on his lips as he towelled himself dry.

He left the bathroom in a pair of trousers, his chest bare, the towel in his hands.

Khushi pushed open the door with her foot, her hands holding the thali with her hot concoction and came to a shocked standstill.

She stared at the diabetic’s lean but muscled body and its sculpted lines with an open mouth.

“You..you...” she gasped through a dry mouth.

Arnav followed her wide, fascinated eyes to his own chest and smirked. He lifted his arms to rub his hair with the towel, giving a display of his bulging, rippling muscles and watched the muscles of her throat work to swallow.

“Kya hua, Khushi?” he asked as if he didn’t know what he was doing, his voice as innocent as his eyes were naughty.

Khushi turned away, shutting her eyes, clinging on to her veg pijja for support. “You..you..kapde pehen leejiye,” she said. Was it an order or a plea? She had no idea.

“Why, Khushi? Haven’t you seen a naked man before?” he teased, delighted by her interest in him and his bare chest.

She frowned, her eyes still shut tight. “People in Lucknow are not besharam like you. They wear kapde.” 

Why didn’t this Delhi man have hair on his body? Navin chacha did. She had seen him exercising on his terrace, lifting wooden clubs and swinging them, shouting “Jai Bajrangbali!” Even Munna and Krishna had hair sprouting on their young chests!

Arnav smiled, making no move to dress. “Even in their bathroom?” he asked.

“Ji?” Khushi opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him to ask him what exactly he meant. Her eyes fell on his nakedness again and she turned her head away from him as fast as she could.

“Do they wear clothes while they are taking bath?” he asked.

“Of course not!” she huffed. This pijja-man from Delhi had a screw or two dheela in his brain along with his sugar issues. Who wore clothes while bathing?

“I was taking  a shower. You barged into my bedroom. So who is shameless? You or me?” he asked silkily.

She gasped. “Awww,” she exclaimed as she turned around to give him a piece of her mind. The sight of his delicious chest stopped her. All her thoughts evaporated and she stood still, taking her fill of him.

“Is that my pizza?” he asked, smirking.

“Kya?” she asked.

He looked at the thali in her hands and raised an eyebrow.

“Ji, ji,” Khushi stammered. She held it out to him and tried to look away from the vast expanse of golden male skin.

Arnav looked at the colourful pizza with cautious eyes. Had she really made it? He sniffed it.

‘Are you going to eat it or inhale it?” Khushi asked crossly. After all the trouble he had put her to, all he wanted to do was sniff the pijja?

Arnav smiled and took the thali from her, his fingers touching hers. Khushi frowned at him as she quickly withdrew her hands and hid them behind her back. Why was he touching her? And his chest was too close to her eyes.

He stood looking at the pizza. Did the base look like a roti? A thick roti?

“Khayiye na,” Khushi urged him.

He studied the pizza. Did it smell of...ghee?

Khushi lost her patience. She quickly pulled a piece off the hot pijja with her fingers, the melted cheese reluctant to let go.

As Arnav opened his mouth to ask her what she was up to, she stuffed the piece into his mouth.

Arnav chewed. There was a burst of myriad flavours in his mouth. Ghee...chaat masala...garam masala...Was that chilly powder? Coriander leaves...pudina...kasuri methi? The vegetables...cheese...He swallowed the food in his mouth.

“How is it?” Khushi asked eagerly. After all she had spent half a day crafting it.

It was delicious, way better than any pizza he had ever tasted.

He looked at her eager face and said to irritate her, “OK. Just OK. It is like eating roti and sabzi.”

Her mouth fell open in consternation. Then she said, “You don’t like it? That’s a pity. Because you have to eat all of it. Nobody here eats such a stupid thing like pijja.”

In her anger, she forgot his nakedness and pushed him down to sit on the bed with her hands on his shoulders.

She stood over him. “Eat,” she dictated.

He feigned reluctance, his eyes dancing with merriment. Maybe she would feed him again, he hoped.

She pushed the next piece into his mouth. He pretended to choke.

“Hey Devi Maiyya!” Khushi exclaimed. He was already sick with low sugar and now she was choking him to death? She quickly rubbed his shirtless back, her worried eyes checking if he were breathing.

Arnav shut his eyes and savoured the back massage he was getting. His Lucknow goddess had warm, soft hands used to rolling and coaxing laddoos and pedas into shape.

“Are you alright?” her anxious voice cut into his thoughts.

“Hhmmm,” he moaned.

Khushi frowned. He didn’t sound breathless. She looked at her fingers on his muscled back and swallowed hard. His skin was so supple, so hot, so smooth, so silky...

She looked down at his bare chest. It was rising and falling rapidly. Her heartbeat picked up its pace to match his.

 She took her hands away from his back as though his skin had burned her.

“Hum..hum chalte hein,” she muttered before running away. She was better off as a halwai than a masseur! At least her peda and jalebi did not threaten to cause her heart attack!

She ran down the steps to see Akashji walk up.

“Khushiji?” he asked, surprised. “Is anything wrong? Is bhai fine?”

“Yes, yes,” she said, flustered. “I..I just went to give him his pijja.”

“Oh.” Akash said slowly, perplexed, “I don’t know why bhai insisted on a veg pizza. He hates pizza, stays hungry rather than eat it.”

Khushi gasped. She had slaved over the antique and temperamental oven to make something he hated? He had been playing with her? Having fun at her expense? She wished she had stuffed the thali in his mouth rather than pieces of the pijja!