225. OS 11. An Uncomplicated Wife (Parts 10-12)

Link to my new short story: Taking Care of You


“I thought I was dreaming when I first saw you," he said.

 “How did you know it was me?” she asked. “I could have been anybody. A thief even.”

He smiled wearily. “I don’t know many thieves who would look at me with anxious eyes and then cry because I was sick,” he mumbled.

Is it possible for love to bloom, sight unseen? Juhi and Abhay are strangers who know each other better than they know themselves. One night changes the equation and the even tenor of their lives and puts all their doubts and fears to rest.

http://pothi.com/pothi/book/ebook-smita-ramachandran-taking-care-you

Link to my first e-novel; A Home for Meenakshi

http://pothi.com/pothi/book/ebook-smita-ramachandran-home-meenakshi

"I love the way you love, Meenu," he whispered, his eyes on hers. "Such loyalty, such passion..."

Meenakshi Sharma, an orphan, lives in Varanasi with her uncle, a chronic bachelor who wants her to become a professional musician. She unwillingly relocates to Delhi to study under a renowned musician for eight months. Staying for rent in the outhouse of the Agrawals, she meets Aditya Agrawal, an attractive young man brooding over the memories of his horrendous past. Pulled between her uncle's expectations of her and Aditya's love for her, Meenakshi struggles with her feelings. How can she disappoint her uncle who had devoted his entire life to her upbringing? How can she pretend to be blind to Aditya's feelings for her? A romance that moves between the alleys of the holy city of Varanasi and the modern city of Delhi.

A blog for my VMs:

http://smitarsvms.blogspot.in/

Part 10

Khushi jumped.

“Kya hua, Khushi?” he asked.

“Nothing, Arnavji,” she managed to say. “Err...dinner? Aap dinner lenge?” she asked. “I will serve food,” she muttered even before he could answer her query. She spared a scared look at the night sky before rushing downstairs.

He looked out at the rain. ‘Please keep pouring. Keep the thunder and lightning going,’ he prayed. ‘Don’t stop anytime now.’

He went down to dinner and sat silently as Mami waxed eloquent about her serial and Nani asked questions about the story. Di was down for dinner for a change and she looked much better, her face animated as she listened to Mami’s dramatic enactment of the story.

Arnav’s eyes were on his wife’s pale face. Each time lightning streaked the sky, her face took on a ghost-like pallor. Once when her eyes fell on his intent eyes, she tried to smile, to act as though the drama in the skies didn’t matter to her.

But he was not fooled.

She was scared of lightning and he was going to exploit her fear to gain a foothold in her life and heart. He had to do it. There was no other way. His loose mouth had closed all doors to her heart for him.

He looked out. ‘Please don’t stop,’ he begged silently to the rain.

“Bhai, about tomorrow’s meeting,” Akash started.

Arnav frowned at him.

What was wrong with Akash? Why did he want to waste time discussing business when he could focus on his wife? Akash had no idea of the concept of family time. He, being the older brother, would have to set Akash right.

“Later,” Arnav said curtly. “Focus on Payal now. Tomorrow will do for work.”

Akash’s spoon fell from his hands. Payal stared at Arnav.

Anjali’s mouth fell open.

Mami stared at Arnav, speechless.

Khushi alone missed this historic moment, having gone into the kitchen to get a spoon.

Nani looked around, confused. “Yeh aap keh rahe hein, Chotey?” she clarified.

Arnav decided not to favour his relations with an explanation, especially as he didn’t have any explanation to give.

Khushi returned to the dining hall. Arnav stood up.

“I am done. Khushi, come to bed soon,” he instructed before walking away.

“Khussi bitiya, have dinner,” Nani urged.

Thunder boomed.

Khushi jumped. She decided to forgo dinner to hide in her blanket. “No, Naniji, I am not hungry. All those golgappe...,” she mumbled before running up the steps to their bedroom.

All stared at her till she vanished from their sight.

“Now bhat hajj happened to hamre bahuriya?” Mami asked.

No one ventured to attempt an answer.

Lying in bed, Arnav watched Khushi as she rushed to the bathroom to change her clothes. He pulled her pillow closer to his, hoping that she wouldn’t notice in the dim golden light.

She didn’t. She was too busy trying to keep the fear from her face. She jumped into bed, pulled the blanket up to her neck & shut her eyes. Tight.

Maybe if she shut her eyes, she could pretend that the light and sound show wasn’t happening in the sky.

“Khushi, tum theek ho?” came the soft question from her husband, the husband who didn’t want his wife to make any waves in his life.

“Ji...” she mumbled, trying to hide under the cover. What was the use of telling him how scared she was? It would disturb his sleep and he had to be fresh as the proverbial daisy to tackle his business issues tomorrow morning. Anyway complaining was not the haq of Shri. Arnav Singh Raizada’s uncomplicated and convenient wife, nor did it fall within her list of duties.

She sighed silently.

She would have to stay awake all night. Otherwise he would find her clinging to him like a limpet. She shivered and tried to attain a foetal posture. Maybe the lightning would believe that she wasn’t here if she curled up tight like a millipede and go away to scare some other poor soul.

She felt his hand touch her shoulder through the blanket. Her eyes flew wide open in shock.

He applied pressure on her hunched shoulder and turned her towards him.

Her eyes were surprised and scared as they looked into his.

He gently folded her into his arms, pressing her head against his heart.

It was a moot point if he or she was more relieved.

His lashes fell to cover his eyes at the feel of her soft warmth against him. He pulled the blanket and secured it around their joined figures.

Slowly her fingers grasped the collar of his t-shirt.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were scared, Khushi?” he asked softly.

Khushi swallowed. “I didn’t want to be a nuisance,” she muttered.

He frowned.

“Woh—you wanted an uncomplicated wife who would let you work...I didn’t want to disturb your sleep,” she mumbled.

He could kick himself. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t mind being disturbed by her, that hugging her all night was a pleasure rather than a nuisance...but how could he convince her of his change of heart? How could he tell her that the ASR before shaadi and the Arnav after shaadi were two different people? How could he make her understand the change happening within him when he couldn’t wrap his head around it himself?

He dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead.

She stiffened in surprise.

He whispered, “I don’t mind being disturbed by you, Khushi. I—I like taking care of you.”

Khushi’s eyes resembled saucers. Was she dreaming?

Lightning flashed across the sky to be followed by the boom of thunder.

She shivered.

“Sleep,” Arnav Singh Raizada told his wife. “I am here.” He dropped another kiss on her fragrant hair.

Khushi opened her eyes to see her husband looking at her with his molten chocolate eyes.

Why were his eyes so close to hers?

She blinked.

She was lying in his arms under the blanket. In a flash, all the events of last night rushed into her head.

Flushing, she tried to extricate herself from his hold.

“Where are you going?” he asked in his husky voice.

“Woh—Teej,” she mumbled.

“Did you sleep well last night, Khushi?” he asked, his arms still tight around hers.

She nodded, trying to look away. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“Thank me,” he insisted.

“Ji?” Khushi frowned.

“Kiss me,” he said easily, turning his cheek towards her.

Khushi stared at the lean, manly cheek darkened by stubble.

Arnav waited, holding his breath.

Slowly her lips touched his skin. He shut his eyes at the sensation.

She withdrew, feeling unsettled, adrift.

With great effort Arnav released her, ordering his arms to let go.

She scampered away and off the bed, her face flushed.

He lay watching her run to the bathroom, feeling as though he had won a battle.

Part 11

Khushi came out of the bathroom wearing a red sari, her wet hair coiled in a towel-covered bun. Her eyes were carefully averted from her husband as he lolled on their bed.

He watched with fond eyes as she moved to stand before the mirror. She untied the towel and began to dry the long, silky strands with nervous hands, very conscious of his attention. She combed them neatly and fastened a band around their thick length. She placed a bindi on her forehead with shaking fingers and applied sindoor on her maang under his intent supervision.

She turned to leave, relieved to be able to get away from his eyes.

Arnav got out of bed and stretched leisurely.

She stopped short.

He sauntered up to her and bent to press his lips to her scented cheek.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice huskier then usual with sleep and the feel of her soft cheek against his hard lips.

Khushi jerked, her startled eyes rushing to his. A rosy hue spread across her face and neck.

“Go...good morning,” she stammered. What was wrong with him? Why was he kissing her and looking at her as though she mattered to him? She was his convenient wife, wasn’t she? Was a convenience-seeking husband supposed to look at his uncomplicated wife with eyes that shone? Kiss her? Where was the rule book for such an arrangement? Her body and brain became numb in confusion.

“Are you going down for the pooja?” he helped her out of her frozen state.

She nodded vigorously.

“I will be down in a few minutes,” he murmured.

She could only nod and scurry away from his presence. Maybe maintaining a distance between them would enable her to think logically about their arrangement.

Akash sat at the table, dressed in formal clothes, ready for a day at the office. Payal placed a filled plate before him. He smiled at her and leaned forward to eat.

“You are not fasting, Akash?” Arnav asked as he slipped into his customary seat across Akash.

The piece of paratha Akash had lifted to his mouth fell to the plate as he stared at his brother in shock.

Mami drew in a deep breath, surprised. The air got trapped somewhere in her chest and Anjali had to thump her back to get her to breathe again.

“Fast? Akass bitwaa?” Nani asked, staring at Arnav as though he were an alien.

“Of course,” Arnav said casually. “Payal is fasting, isn’t she?” he asked.

Payal nodded, her eyes wide.

“You want Akash to fast with Payalji?” Anjali asked to clear the point.

“Of course,” Arnav sat back, relaxed in his blue t-shirt and white trousers.

The Raizadas stared at him.

“Chotey,” Anjali called slowly. “Why aren’t you dressed for office?”

“I am working from home today,” he declared. “I suggest you get home at least by noon, Akash. You don’t want to be late to break Payal’s fast.”

Akash blinked, his eyes round orbs behind his specs.

Nani sagged in her chair in shocked wonder. Her Chotey had become an expert on matters related to marriage and fasts? Kab? Kaisen? She looked hopefully at Anjali and Manorama. Was her Chotey finally settling into his marriage with the girl they had picked for him?

“Ye hamre Arnav bitwaa hi he?” Mami asked to tease Arnav. “Hello Hi Bye Bye, hajj a bhoot entered his body?”

Arnav looked at his phone as though he had not heard Mami’s comment. A slight flush alone gave away his feelings.

Khushi joined them, bringing a plate of hot parathas for Arnav. She began to serve him quietly.

“I don’t want paratha, Khushi,” he told her softly.

“Ji?” Khushi‘s face was a picture of shock. “Shall I make toast for you?” she asked after a moment.

“No,” he replied softly.

“Hamre Arnav bitwaa ijj phasting with you,” Mami informed her.

Khushi’s mouth fell open.

“And he ijj not going to his ophice,” Mami enlightened Khushi.

“What?” Khushi frowned.

“Our new bridebroom ijj aphraid that if he goes to ophice, he bill not be able to give you water and food aphter pooja,” Mami explained with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Arnavji, you don’t have to do this,” poor Khushi tried to dissuade him, feeling her head spin at this change in his personality. Why was he changing the rules of the game half-way?

“I want to, Khushi,” he told her quietly, his eyes determined and direct.

“Arnavji,” she tried to protest.

He stood up, his eyes determined. He made to move towards her.

Khushi wisely gave up the fight. What was the use of arguing with a stubborn bull of a man? And what if she tried to reason with him and he kissed her again on the cheek, this time before his relations?

Like a very good girl, she took his plate and walked away towards the kitchen.

“Khushi!” came the call from the bedroom.

Khushi jumped.

“Khussi bitiya, see what Chotey needs,” Nani said urgently. “He is not used to fasting. Maybe he is feeling dizzy.”

Anjali and Mami looked anxiously in the direction of his room.

Before they could move, Arnav came to the landing of the stairs. His eyes fell on Khushi standing in the living room.

“Didn’t you hear me calling you, Khushi?” he asked crossly.

“Ji,” Khushi replied softly. “I was about to come to you.” She walked up the steps to join him. Silently he led the way to their bedroom.

“Hamre Arnav bitwaa ijj like a hen with one chick, Hello Hi Bye Bye!” Mami exclaimed.

Nani and Anjali laughed. Payal looked away with a smile on her face.

Unaware of the hilarity he had caused in his family members, Arnav shut the door of their room, locking her in with him.

“What were you doing downstairs?” he asked standing before her, his gaze serious.

“Ji, I was checking the clothes the dhobi left in the morning,” Khushi explained earnestly. “Checking if he has brought back all the clothes we gave him.”

“You are fasting and that too for the first time, Khushi. You should be more careful of your health,” he ordered.

“I was just counting the clothes, Arnavji. That’s all,” she tried to reason with him.

He moved quickly towards her and before she knew it, he was standing very close to her and his hands were cupping her face.

Her lashes fluttered. If only he wouldn’t touch her! It was easier to be the wife he wanted when he didn’t touch her.

“Sit here, Khushi, with me,” he ordered and pleaded at the same time. “Don’t move a finger. What if you faint for lack of food?”

Khushi swallowed.

He took his hands from her face but only to clasp her shoulders and to make her sit on their bed.

“Sit here where I can see you,” he instructed.

“Err...Arnavji,” Khushi stammered. “Why are you fasting?”

“Because you are,” he replied, his eyes on hers.

“Arnavji, I am sure your family does not expect this from you just because you are married,” Khushi tried to make him understand. “You can have food, go to work.”

“Maybe, but I don’t want to,” he replied.

Khushi looked down at her clasped fingers on her lap. Should she ask? She swallowed hard. Why should she be scared of his answer? She had nothing to lose.

“Why?” she asked, her sound so low that he wondered if he had imagined her question.

He looked into her direct eyes.

Why did he want to fast with her? Remain with her when work was waiting for him at office? Answers rushed to his head, flooding it with pictures, images, feelings, dreams, wishes—but how to put them in words?

“I—I...” he began.

She waited.

“You are my wife,” he finally said.

She looked away for a moment. Then, lifting her eyes to his, she asked, “What does an uncomplicated wife do?”

He stared at her, speechless.

“Woh kya he, it is difficult—I—I don’t know how to—I have no experience in being a convenient wife...or any kind of wife. If you tell me what I am supposed to do, I can manage better,” she said softly, her face revealing her helplessness.

“Khushi, I...” he began.

She waited.

“I—I wanted an uncomplicated wife,” he tried.

“Ji,” she nodded, accepting his outrageous demand as normal.

“No, I mean, I wanted an uncomplicated wife. I don’t want one now,” he explained, feeling his heart thudding in his chest.

Khushi looked down at her hands, trying hard to keep her face expressionless and eyes dry. She had tried so hard to be the wife she thought he wanted and it had all boomeranged right in her face. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She blinked.

“I see,” she managed to murmur. “Your family, my family...I don’t know how they will react,” she said, feeling tears clog her throat.

“What the!” he exclaimed.

“Woh when we separate,” she elucidated.

“Who is separating?” he asked, perplexed.

“We,” she clarified. “You don’t want me.”

He stared at her slack-jawed. How did he manage to mess up every conversation with her? he wondered.

Part 12

“I never said that, Khushi,” he tried frantically to spell out what he wanted from their relationship. “I want you, I definitely want you.”

She looked at him, hope in her eyes. “You do?” she asked, her voice small.

“I do, I do. What I was trying to tell you was that—before I married you, I wanted a convenient, uncomplicated wife. But after marrying you,” he paused.

“Ji?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Before I married you, Khushi, I had no idea what marriage was all about. It was just one more thing on my list of to-dos. But after marrying you,” he paused, seeking words to explain his haal-e-dil.

Hope fluttered its feeble wings in her heart.

“I want more,” he confessed in a rush. “Much more. I want a real wife, a real marriage.”

She looked at him with her big eyes, scared to trust her ears.

“I want you as my wife,” he clarified. Let there be no more misunderstandings, he prayed.

Maybe she was dreaming. She pinched herself. It hurt.

“Khushi,” he said earnestly. “I...”

“Chotey,” came the call.

Arnav clenched his fists. How could he get his wife to stay with him if his family disturbed them all the time?

Khushi jumped up from the bed and quickly opened their bedroom door.

“Yes, Di?” Arnav strode to the door to ask his sister what she wanted.

“Chotey, I need to talk to you for a moment,” Anjali requested, smiling at Khushi.

Khushi smiled at her and left the room to return to the clothes brought by the dhobi.

“Chotey, today is Teej,” Anjali smiled at him.

“I know,” he said, his eyes following Khushi as she walked down the steps.

“You should get Khushiji a gift,” Anjali suggested.

Arnav looked at her in surprise.

“She will be happy,” Anjali said. “And her happiness matters to you, doesn’t it, Chotey?”

He nodded, turning his head away to avoid his sister’s knowing glance.

Khushi saw Arnav leave the house. She frowned. Where was he going? He never left without telling her where he was going. Had he decided to go to the office after all?

“Khushiji, Payalji, please come here,” Anjali summoned them. “Nani has arranged for ladies to apply mehendi on our hands.”

Khushi and Payal obediently submitted to the mehendi application.

“Khushi,” Payal whispered.

“Jiji?” Khushi asked, her brows raised in question.

“Arnavji is a good husband now, isn’t he?” Payal asked.

Khushi frowned. “Now?” she asked. “He always was, Jiji.”

“Woh kya he Khushi, when you were kidnapped, Naniji and the others were saying that he was not willing to get married...” her voice trailed away.

“Oh,” Khushi smiled. “Everything is alright.” The smile fell away. “Jiji, how do we learn to be a real wife?”

Payal’s eyes flew wide open.

“Matlab, is it something we can study? Or is it a trial and error kind of thing?” Khushi was dead serious.

“Khushi, tum bhi na,” Payal shook her head, her lips twisted in a smile.

“I want to be the best wife in the world, Jiji,” Khushi revealed her ambition.

“You are mad. And so is that husband of yours,” Payal shook her head in amusement as she went to meet Akash who had returned from office at noon.

A real wife. A real marriage. The words ran through her head as she walked up to her room to dress for the evening pooja. She was hungry and tired but her mind had no time to linger on such unimportant things as an empty stomach when Arnavji had dangled a real marriage before her.

Could she call Buaji to ask her about how a perfect wife should be? Maybe she could. She should. Yes, she would.

She pushed open the door with a sense of purpose, only to come to a standstill.

Arnavji, her husband was working on his laptop.

“Aap aa gaye? I didn’t see you return,” she said, feeling slightly put off.

He held out a gaily wrapped packet. “For you,” he said, a light of hope in his eyes.

Khushi slowly took it from him and stood looking at the picture of roses on the wrapping.

“Open it, Khushi,” he urged.

“Ji,” she acquiesced. Slowly she unwrapped it.

There was a gorgeous pink, red and grape-coloured lehenga in it. Her breath caught in her chest at its beauty.

“Do you like it, Khushi?” he asked, his eyes anxious.

“Ji,” she said quickly. “Very much.” She hugged the gift to her chest. “Thank you.”

“Wear it now?” he asked.

“Ji,” she agreed, moving away to change.

“Arnav bitwaa, bhat did you buy for our bahuriya?” Mami asked in a whisper.

“A lehenga set,” he said.

Mami  asked, “Kaunsa colour, Hello Hi Bye Bye?”

“Pink,” he muttered.

Mami smiled at Nani and Anjali.

“Khushiji liked it, Chotey?” Anjali asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Where is she?” Nani asked.

“Dressing,” Arnav said.

“We will help her,” Anjali offered, a big smile blooming on her face.

“Yes, Anjali bitiya,” Nani beamed.

“Thehro, thehro, let me get my makeuppiya,” Mami ran out of the room.

Arnav got up, grabbed his laptop and left the room.

The house was lit with a thousand lights and flowers and looked like a bower, Arnav mused as he walked down the steps. Guests were laughing and chatting, preparing thalis for prayer as they moved about meeting their friends.

Devi Maiyya’s idol was decorated with a rich red sari and garlands of marigold flowers. Ghee lamps were lit at her feet and silver plates of sweets were arranged in  a neat row.

Caterers had set up preparations for dinner in the dining hall.

Arnav called Aman.

“Sir?” Aman asked.

“Where are you?” Arnav asked.

“At office, Sir,” Aman replied. “Do you need any files?”

Arnav pursed his lips. “No, I don’t need files. What are you doing in office at this time on teej? Go home to your wife.”

The phone fell from Aman’s hand to roll on the carpet.

Aman raced to get it. He lifted it to his ear.

“Aman?” ASR sounded testy, but that was nothing new. He always did.

“I am not married, Sir,” Aman said.

“Oh,” Arnav was taken aback. But he rallied to ask, “Why not?”

Aman swallowed hard thinking of the hundred phone calls and mails from his mother on this topic, all of them cursing a workaholic ASR for her son’s bachelorhood.

“Because of you, Sir,” Aman replied honestly, feeling that the new, married ASR would understand what the earlier boss from hell could never grasp.

Arnav’s mouth fell open.

“I work all times of the day, ASR, seven days of every week. Three months back when you summoned me from Jalandhar for the Singhania project, forcing me to cut short my leave, I was on the way to meeting a prospective bride. I asked them to drop me at Amritsar airport, leaving my family to return home without seeing the girl,” Aman revealed.

Arnav shut his eyes in regret. His mad chase of new deals and his preoccupation with work had taken a toll on everyone.

“You are on leave, Aman. One month. Go home and don’t come back even if I give in and call you,” ASR ordered.

“Boss,” Aman demurred.

“Go before I change my mind,” Arnav ruled.

“Thank you, ASR,” Aman smiled. “Happy teej to Khushi bhabhi.”

“Come and meet her after you return from your vacation,” Arnav instructed. "You didn't get to speak to her the last time you saw her."

“I will look forward to that. She is really special to have survived a murder attempt,” Aman remarked. ‘And to have humanised ASR,’ Aman spoke in his head.

“She is. Very special,” Arnav said, a small smile in his voice. “Bye.”

Aman cut the call feeling as though he had just come across the eighth wonder in the world. He quickly delegated his work and called home to inform his mother that he had got a full month to spend with her.

Akash murmured, “Bhai, Dadi wants us to bring our brides down for the pooja.”

Arnav nodded and walked up with his brother.

As he reached his room, the door was flung open.

Nani, Di and Mami emerged giggling.

“Chotey, Akash, both Khushiji and Payalji are ready,” Anjali informed them.

“Fine,” Arnav grunted.

Payal joined them first, dressed in a peacock-blue lehenga. Her neck, ears and arms were adorned by jewellery and a blue dupatta covered her head. A maangtikka with blue and green stones rested in her maang.

She joined a speechless Akash and they walked down, followed by the Raizada ladies who gave Arnav the breathing space to enjoy his shock to the fullest.

Arnav felt his breath slow as he waited in the corridor for Khushi.

She walked towards him, her eyes stealing a glance at his shell-shocked face and then falling to look at the ground.

Dressed in the pink, red and grape-coloured lehenga choli, with the pink dupatta covering her head, she looked like a bride—a gorgeous bride.

“You are beautiful, Khushi.” The words left his mouth without his volition.

His eyes ran over her arms covered with white, red and pink bangles, the heavy necklace around her neck, her maangtikka, her nose-ring, the mehendi on her hands and arms, his mangalsutra, his sindoor visible through the maang tikka...

She blushed, making her more beautiful than ever.

He drew in a deep breath and asked, “Shall we go down?”

“Ji,” she murmured and moved towards him, expecting him to accompany her downstairs.

But before she could leave the room, Arnav stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

Wide hazel eyes looked at him in shock.

He cupped her face and lowered his face to kiss her maangtikka, her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her chin...He then brushed his lips against hers.

She jumped.

“Sshhhh,” he whispered.

He soothed her and drew her closer into his arms.

Angling his head, he captured her plump lips with his hard ones.

Khushi trembled in the warm hold of her husband.

A while later, she buried her face in the crook of his neck and stood in the circle of his arms, panting, her heart galloping against his.

 ‘So this is what real husbands and wives do? Thank God I didn’t ask Buaji!’ she thought.

Hetal Dave4 July 2015 at 18:46

Smitaji please answer dijiye...agar Khushi ne Buaji ko prashna puchha hota toh unka kya jawab hota ? Will be waiting for your answer.

ReplyDelete

Replies

1. 
   SMR5 July 2015 at 02:02

   "Hai Re Nandkisore! Real wife? Then what were you for the past two months? Jhooti wife?"
   "Buaji, I want to the best wife in the world. Kahiye na, how can I be a perfect wife for Arnavji?"
   "Titliya, aisen poocho na! A good wife wahi howat he jo cooks well. Shyam savere parata banao, poori banao, roti banao, rabri banao, besan laddoo banao and khila dio to hamre Arnav bitwaa."
   "Phir?"
   "When your pati parmeswar returns from office, uske pair dabao. Ache se tel maalish karna if he is tired. Fan him when he is eating. Flutter your lashes at him. Apply chameli ka tel on your head, Titliya. There is not a a man alive who can resist the smell of chameli ka tel."
   "Really, Buaji?"
   "Or nahi to kaa? Am I joking? Did you phoone me to hear my jokes, Sanka Devi? Ab phoone rakho and go and make paratas for hamre Arnav bitwaa. Woh bhi makhan maarke!"
   "That will make me a perfect wife, Buaji?"
   "Hai Re Nandkisore! Why have you made my niece such a budhu? Yes, yes, that will work."

   Delete