240. OS 13 Laad Governor and Afghan Jalebi (Part 4)

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/

Dedicated to Supriya Sahasrabuddhe (Sups/ aniyathi). She wanted Mami and Payal to plot to bring A-K together. So here goes,

Part 4

ASR shrugged into his coat, grabbed his laptop bag and strode down into the dining hall for breakfast.

All the others were seated there with the exception of NK.

ASR frowned. “Where is NK?” he asked shortly. Had he returned to Lucknow during the night?

“Oo kaa he, Arnav bitwaa, NK saw Dracula phillum yesterday,” mami explained.

“What the!” ASR asked, a frown of incomprehension on his face.

Mama shook his head in exasperation. “Itna dar gaya, itna dar gaya that he woke me up and made me play chess all night till it dawned,” he said ruefully. “Oo kahat rahe that someone is trying to bite him on his neck and suck his blood.”

ASR clenched his jaw. He wished someone would suck NK's blood. At least he wasn’t in Lucknow, ASR thought with relief. He nodded and focused on his plate.

Payal came to stand by him.

He looked up.

She smiled gently as she placed a hot paratha on his plate.

He nodded his thanks, unused to being served by a family member. Usually HP left the basket of rotis or parathe on the table and all helped themselves.

Payal poured his black tea and placed it by his plate. Then she went back to serving others.

“Sit down, Payal,” ASR growled.

All looked at him, startled.

“Have your breakfast with us,” he ordered. “If anyone wants anything, they will take it,” he said, passing the message clearly to the other family members.

“Yes, Payaliya, sit down. I didn’t notice,” nani apologised.

“Payalji, sit by Akash,” Anjali looked at the empty seat with a twinkle in her eyes.

Payal blushed as she took her seat by her husband.

                                     ***

ASR settled in his chair in his office and set out his laptop and the files he needed to work. Akash’s wedding and his absence from the office had caused work to pile up.

He drew in a deep breath. He was early. Hopefully he could get some work done in peace before the hordes descended on him.

“Boss?” came the question from the doorway.

Arnav hid a sigh as he looked at Aman.

“Why are you here so early?” he asked.

“I need to finish some work from yesterday,” Aman explained.

ASR nodded. “When is my first meeting?” he asked.

“Ten, sir,” Aman replied. “With the sales manager of Axis Textiles.”

ASR looked at the clock. It was eight in the morning.

“Leave me alone for two hours,” ASR said. “I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Sir,” Aman let the door shut on his way out.

                               ***

ASR studied the sales chart open on his laptop, a frown on his face. He flipped through a file to check a figure.

He blinked.

Khushi’s face was smiling at him from the file.

“What the!” he exclaimed.

He turned his head to look at the laptop. The chart did not carry Khushi’s face, but his mind wandered to the evening in Lucknow when she had approached him with a tray of jalebi.

The look on her face, the strands of hair caressing her cheek, her gorgeous eyes looking at him with eagerness, her slim body in the peach and purple lehenga...

Unbidden, his hand pulled a notepad towards him and he began to sketch a lehenga for Khushi. With a few deft strokes, he drew a lavish skirt and backless choli held together by two sets of doris. He made notes on the margin about the colour, cut, fabric and the embellishments. He turned the page and drew the next one, seeing Khushi in it. Then the next and the next. He filled the pages with drawings, leaning back after an hour of labour, his neck and shoulder aching.

What had he just done? he thought.

He had sketched dresses after eight long years. Eight years.

He shut his eyes, seeing his drawings as real dresses worn by Khushi. He could see her in them, walking towards him softly, a small smile on her lips.

He had sketched ethnic clothes, lehengas and sarees—everything his firm did not produce or sell.

He opened his eyes and stared at the glass wall of his room. Why? Why was he seeing her? Why was he drawing traditional wear for her? Why wasn’t he working?

He looked at the drawings once more. They were good, better than good.

Maybe it was time for change. Time to grow, diversify a bit, he mused.

No, it was not sentimental nonsense, he comforted himself. There was a market for designer wedding lehengas and sarees he could enter and being Arnav Singh Raizada, conquer.

He called Aman.

“Sir?” Aman asked.

“Get me the senior designers and the Production Manager and meet me in my office now,” he instructed.

“Yes, sir,” Aman replied. ‘The weather is more predictable than ASR,’ Aman thought.

                                  ***

“ASR,” came the call.

He looked up to see Lavanya Kashyap poised at the entrance to his office, a nervous smile on her face.

“Yes?” he asked in a preoccupied manner. He wanted red brocade with gold thread for the third lehenga he had drawn. He quickly noted it down.

“How was Akash’s wedding?” Lavanya asked, walking in, dropping a kiss on his cheek and sitting across from him, her legs crossed.

The picture of beguiling hazel eyes flashed through his mind.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I want the final picks for the fashion calendar today, Lavanya,” he reminded her.

“It will be ready, ASR,” she assured him.

He looked down at his laptop.

Lavanya waited for his attention for a long moment, but in vain. Then she suggested, “Let’s go out tonight.”

He frowned at her. “I have work to do,” he replied.

“ASR, my friends are meeting at Kitty Su. Let’s join them,” she wheedled.

“Lavanya, I have work piled up and I am not in the mood for clubbing,” ASR ruled.

“ASR,” Lavanya tried to change his mind.

“No, Lavanya,” he said, his face cold, his eyes colder. “Tumhein jaana he to jao.”

Aman knocked on the door.

“Yes?” ASR asked.

“It is time for the meeting, sir. They are waiting in the conference hall,” Aman reminded him.

ASR nodded at Lavanya and left the room.

Lavanya sighed. Their relationship was going nowhere. It was like trying to cuddle an iceberg that could turn into a volcano at any moment.

                                     ***

Lavanya tried again at noon.

“ASR, let’s go out for lunch,” she suggested.

“No time,” he muttered, turning to Aman to ask him to get copies of a particular file.

Aman left.

Lavanya walked to ASR and tried to put her hand on his shoulder. He turned away to make an urgent official phone call.

Lavanya waited till he was done and then inserted herself between ASR and his table. She caught hold of the lapels of his coat.

“ASR, do you like this dress on me?” she asked, trying to interest him in her appearance.

ASR gave her strapless cream dress that ended well over her knees a cursory glance. “It is fine,” he said. “I have to meet Prakash Sinha at Aqua in thirty minutes.” He looked at the clock.

“You bought it for me,” Lavanya said with a smile.

ASR frowned. “I did?” he asked.

“For my birthday last week,” she reminded him.

“Oh,” he realised. “Aman bought it and couriered it to you.”

Lavanya’s face fell.

“I need to leave,” ASR looked at the clock.

“ASR, spend a few moments with me,” she requested.

His face became expressionless and his eyes cold. “You know very well that with me my business comes first,” he said.

“Yes, I do. But ASR, I need to talk to you,” Lavanya said, tightening her hold on the lapels.

He sighed. “I will be out till eight or later. I will return to the office before going home,” he said.

“I will wait for you here,” Lavanya said.

                                                   ***

“Maasi, it is so boring here,” NK complained, munching on chips.

“Boring? When your maasi ijj here?” mami asked.

Nani, Anjali, Akash and Payal smiled at their conversation.

“Payal bhabi, you tell me. Isn’t Delhi boring? Lucknow is so much better,” NK appealed.

“Hein?” mami asked.

“We just got back from Lucknow, NK bhai,” Akash said smilingly.

Payal smiled. “Yes, because in Lucknow, I used to have Khushi with me,” she admitted.

“Payal bhabi, let’s go to Lucknow. Leave Akash here. We can have fun with Khushiji,” NK demanded.

All laughed, shaking their heads at NK.

“NK babua,” mami asked. “Bhat bill you do with Khussi?”

“Laugh,” NK replied immediately.

“Suno, I bill phoone Garima and ask her to marry off Khussi to you. Kya khayal he, Hello Hi Bye Bye?” she asked.

“Marriage?” NK sounded petrified. They could see the whites of his eyes. “No!”

All laughed at the terror on his face.

“Kyon, NK bitwaa? Bhy don’t you wants to marry?” mami asked.

“I am too young to die, maasi,” NK said as he got up and ran away.

“This boy,” nani laughed. “He is such a nautanki, just like you, Manorama.”

“Saasumma,” mami protested.

“Waise, Manorama, I have to agree with you on one point,” nani continued.

“Kaa?” mami asked eagerly.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Khussi too joined our family?” nani asked wistfully.

“Saasumma, NK bhaag gaya. Now only hamre Arnav bitwaa ijj left for Khussi and you knows bhat he ijj,” mami grumbled.

Anjali, who knew of her Chotey and Lavanya, said quietly, “I don’t think Chotey will be interested, nani.”

Nani sighed. “Do you think I will still be alive when Chotey finally marries?” she asked softly, sadly.

No one ventured a reply.

Nani sighed again.

                                                ***

ASR checked the time. It was eight and there was no way the meeting would end anytime before ten.

He messaged Lavanya, informing her that he was running late, that he would be going straight home after the meeting and it was no use waiting for him at the office.

Lavanya sat in his office for a moment longer, feeling defeated, fearful. Slowly the sorrow turned into anger. She dried her tears. How dare he treat her with so little respect? Why did she have to wait for him like a dog for its master? Heck, even dogs got more attention from people than she did from ASR!

She sniffed. It was time, she decided. Time for ASR to decide whether he wanted to take their relationship forward or finish it. And if he was interested in taking it forward, he better learn to make time for her.

                                         ***

ASR returned home at ten, exhausted. Saying he had a headache was an understatement.

HP opened the door.

“Arnav bhaiyya, will you have dinner?” he asked.

“No, I ate,” ASR muttered. “Black tea and a pill for headache, HP.”

“Yes, Arnav bhaiyya,” HP replied.

ASR took the steps as fast as he could. He wanted to get out the clothes he had been wearing all day and take a shower. He pushed open the door of his room, only to stop.

Anjali was sitting on his bed.

ASR felt his headache double in strength.

“Chotey,” Anjali began.

“Yes?” he asked, dumping his bag and shrugging out of his coat.

“Woh kya he,” she began hesitantly.

“Spit it out, di,” he said, tired of his work, his family and his life.

“Nani was saying that—that,” Anjali paused.

ASR waited with ill-contained impatience.

“How are things between you and Lavanya, Chotey?” Anjali asked.

ASR frowned. He really didn’t need this tonight.

“Woh kya he, now that Akash is married, nani—nani was hoping,” she paused.

ASR waited, his arms crossed, his frown ferocious, his fury threatening to overpower him.

“If you like Lavanya, then maybe we can,” Anjali tried.

“Maybe you can?” he asked, his voice dangerous.

Anjali said softly, “She has been your girlfriend for three months now.”

“Tho?” he asked.

“I thought you like her,” Anjali said softly.

“I like her. I like Manju Singh who makes my coffee. I like Aman too. Shall I marry Manju or him?” ASR raged.

“Chotey,” Anjali cried.

“You know what marriage does to a family, how it wrecks homes, how it kills! And you want to push me into this whirlpool?” he asked, his eyes spitting fire.

Anjali looked at the floor, her eyes filled with tears.

“DON’T TALK TO ME OF MARRIAGE,” ASR shouted. “NEVER.”

Anjali looked out at the pool and the trees in his garden, trying to compose herself.

“Leave me to live my life the way I deem fit,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I don’t intend to marry, ever. My girlfriends need not concern you or the family. They have nothing to do with you.”

“Do they mean anything to you, Chotey?” Anjali asked softly.

There was perfect silence in the room. Only the harsh breaths taken by ASR could be heard.

Anjali limped out, shutting the door after her.

ASR stood looking at the pool, trying hard to regain control of his feelings, contain his sorrow, lose the uneasiness.

A figure rose wreathed in a miasma of fog from the placid waters of the pool. She walked out towards him.

His eyes widened. Khushi.

She was smiling at him.

The sea green lehenga he had drawn for her swirled around her hips as she walked, the pink dupatta trailing behind her.

She came to stand before him, her laughing eyes looking directly into his.

She held out her hand. “Hum Khushi he,” she murmured.

“Arnav,” he whispered. He tried to put his hand in hers, only to see her vanish into thin air.

“Khushi?” he called.

Someone knocked on the door.

Arnav rushed to the door. “Khushi?” he called as he pulled it open.

HP stood there with his tea and pill for headache.



Rash's insightful interpretation:

Part 4

Nothing is more memorable than where our imagination carries us to… and the power of imagination is infinite….

This is what this update is about..

Firstly, Arnav imagines NK’s absence could be due to hopping over to Lucknow… but comes to know it was due to the vivid imagination of NK himself that triggered sleepless night to both NK and Mamaji… That gave his imagination a respite from visuals that could raise his blood pressure…

With his mind filled with images of Khushi… ASR set out to work and thought of shutting her image with work… He did get work done but could not shut her image… With her as his muse he began a new clothing line… the traditional clothing… He had designed and detailed after eight long years and his hands had moved unbidden…. Best works are often most unconscious and occurs ahead of the ability to understand it… He could visualize Khushi in each and every design of his and they were flowing out of his thoughts and hands in rapid succession… They were indeed outstanding piece of work… ASR instead of pondering over why his imagination was running wild thought it was good to introduce it as his new clothing line and diversify his wares… Plunging in to this new line was quite lucrative as he was already an established name… a designer par excellence… So he set the ball rolling…

The entry of Lavanya and her various attempts to attract his attention went in vain… For he was engrossed in his world of imagination… imagining various colors, tones and hues that could enhance the beauty in Khushi… Lavanya was an unbidden guest with whom he was reluctant to share his feast…  Her attempt at noon too met with the same fate making her frustrated… Her attempts to please him with the dress he gave her met with frosty eyes and also got to know that it was of his Man Friday’s choice and Aman himself had couriered it too… He had no hand in it… Lavanya’s imagination had run on a track of her to be heading into upper echelon in ASR’s life… All her attempts, were like a damp squib, did not even make him turn his head a bit towards her… His attitude burst the bubble of hope she lived in and led her to the decision to confront him on taking a decision soon…

NK for all his love to be in the company of Khushi… ran a mile when thoughts of sending a proposal from him permeated… His imagination of “I do”… as a noose around his neck, underscores, his sense of dramatizing things and the bonhomie he shares with Khushi just as a friend… This veered the thoughts of Raizadas’ to only other eligible bachelor amidst them to bring Khushi into their fold… Just this thought brought in a rain check on their imagination and evoked mixed apprehensive reactions…

A weary ASR returning home late at night with a pounding head found his sister seated on his bed which didn’t need much imagination on his part as to what it entailed… Just the thought made him feel like a lion coming within whisker of being trampled by elephant, increasing the pounding in his head by multiple times…. Her tentative steps to foray into the discussion on marriage and prospective bride… was trampled down by him in a swoop saying he liked his canteen coffee maker and his PA just like Lavanya, but that doesn’t make him want to be tied in matrimony with them… The ripples of the effects of the broken marriage and how it affected their family was still lingering in his mind… He did not want to get sucked in the whirlpool… His talk effectively shut his Di from going further on… But it did not shut the image of the girl impressed upon his mind nor did it vanish into thin air! What he has not yet realized is he is already in the periphery of the whirlpool where it is calm… soon to be sucked into….

When one is in a whirlpool, the only option before is let go… there is somewhere you need to go first before you get to where you want to go… He needs to forget what hurts him but never forget what it taught… He is fighting against uncertainty by becoming certain…It’s a sort of no-win situation for him with his present set of mind… One does not find stability by making the unstable, stable… The certainty and stability comes as a result of decidedly embracing uncertainty… For life is an art of living with uncertainty without being paralyzed by fear… One's intellect may be confused but the emotions never lie….

Once his Di left his room, Arnav’s imagination resumed soaring high, even up to the extent of conjuring images of Khushi’s presence before him… While in that lala land… the knock on the door came about… Expecting it to be Khushi… but seeing HP with a glass of water and a paracetamol was like a wet blanket thrown at him… It was like expecting light at the end of the tunnel only to see a freight train chugging along… Toot toot…

Good update Smita… Toot toot for you too for coming out with this…