248. OS 13. Laad Governor and Afghan Jalebi (Part 15)

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 15

Arnav sat down, gutted.

Khushi had seen Lisa hugging him?

Khushi had imagined that Lisa was his girlfriend?

But Khushi had seen him dragging Lavanya out of Purple Orchid. How could she imagine Lisa was his girlfriend?

ASR almost hit himself. How could Khushi know about his self-imposed rule of monogamity in a relationship? She must have imagined that he was fooling around with two girls at the same time.

‘That’s why she avoided looking at me, left me to travel with NK on the way back home from the jewellers, went to bed early and—and maybe even the journey to Lucknow was prompted by her disgust,’ he realised.

He buried his head in his hands. What a mess!

Khushi thought the worst of him. How could he let her? He had to clear his name. This was so not done. No way.

He jumped up and marched to Anjali’s room. He pounded on the door.

“Come in,” Anjali said with a sigh, knowing that it was her Chotey. Who else would dare to knock at the door of her room like a storm?

ASR marched in.

“Di, we need to go to Lucknow now. Get up,” ASR said.

Anjali sat up. “Kyon?” she asked quietly.

“Di, Khushi saw me with Lavanya at Purple Orchid and with Lisa outside the jewellers. She thinks I am immoral, a lecher, a two-timing scoundrel,” ASR said, all agitated and dismayed.

“So?” Anjali asked quietly.

The question rocked ASR, but only slightly. “I can’t have her think so badly of me. How can she think I would—Di, get ready,” he urged.

“Chotey,” Anjali asked softly, “what will you tell Khushiji if you meet her?”

He frowned, looking like a ferocious lion. “That Lavanya and Lisa are not my girlfriends anymore. That I never two-time a girl, that I never cheat,” he said firmly.

“If she asks you about your relationship with Lisa and Lavanya?” Anjali asked. “What will your answer be?”

His frown grew more pronounced. “That they were my girlfriends, one at a time. That I was seeing Lisa last year and Lavanya this year. That we are no longer seeing each other,” he replied, his body tense.

“You think Khushiji will dance in joy and hug you when she hears your explanation?” Anjali asked softly.

He blinked.

“How many relationships do you think Khushiji has had?” Anjali asked him directly.

He stared at her.

“How many dates do you think she has been on, a young unmarried girl from a conservative town like Lucknow, living with her traditional and orthodox family?” Anjali asked.

“None,” he said, his voice low.

“Live-ins?” Anjali asked.

“None,” he replied hoarsely.

“Boyfriends, friends with benefits, sexual partners?” she asked.

“None,” he replied softly.

Anjali nodded.

“Do you really think she will welcome your explanation and absolve you of all real and imagined wrongdoing?” Anjali asked.

“No,” he had to admit. “But I have to try.”

“Why? Why do you have to try? Why is her good opinion so important for you? Why do you want her to like you?” Anjali asked.

He was lost for an answer. He just knew that Khushi had to like him, approve of him, smile at him, be happy when she saw him... The list was never-ending.

“Since when does ASR want a girl to like him?” she asked.

He was stumped, totally and completely clueless.

Anjali helped him out. “You like her, don’t you?”

He nodded, sitting down by her.

Anjali put her hand on his shoulder and gave a loving pat. “Koi baat nahi. Don’t worry, Chotey,” she said softly.

He looked up hopefully.

She nodded, her eyes kind. “This too shall pass,” she added.

“What?” he asked, bewildered.

“This feeling,” Anjali replied.

“What the!” he exclaimed.

“You liked Lisa last year. The feeling and she vanished in two months. You liked Lavanya this year. That ended in less than three months, during which you were in Paris for one month anyway. So the average life span of your liking a girl is two months. Tum dekhna, Chotey, after two months you won’t even remember Khushiji’s face,” Anjali said helpfully.

ASR stared at his sister, astounded.

“Ek baath poochoon, Chotey?” she asked innocently.

He nodded slowly.

“If you find that you still like Khushiji after two months,” she paused.

He swallowed hard.

“What will you do?” Anjali asked, her big eyes boring into her brother’s stunned ones. “Matlab, she is Payal bhabi’s younger sister. You can’t ask her to be your girlfriend.”

ASR looked away.

“She may not understand you and the way you see relationships, the specifications you lay down for relationships. Woh kya he, she is not ASR, Chotey. Nor is she Lisa or Lavanya. She may—she will feel insulted,” Anjali said softly.

His throat worked to swallow.

“Payal bhabi who thinks her jetji can walk on water, will lose all respect for you. Khushiji’s family will never accept such an arrangement. Nor will nani and mami. Akash will find it difficult to look the Guptas in the eye. Do you really want to destroy his, your and Khushiji’s lives for such a fleeting feeling?” Anjali asked.

He got up to leave.

“Go have lunch, Chotey. And look around for a girlfriend who is alright with your dislike for commitment. This fascination for Khushiji will disappear,” Anjali advised him.

ASR walked out.

Anjali hugged her trembling body. ‘Please Devi Maiyya, mama, please knock some sense into his head. Make him understand what Khushiji means to him,’ she begged with all her heart.

                                              ***

ASR went back to his room to stand staring at the pond for a very long time. His head whirled, conflicting thoughts battering him from all sides. And added to the volatile mix were Khushi’s sweet face and innocent smile, making it impossible for him to reach a decision.

He understood exactly what his di had tried to tell him.

ASR couldn’t offer anything less than marriage to Khushi and ASR couldn’t offer anything more than occasional sex to Khushi.

He was stuck. It was her way against his way. He would have to choose.

HP brought him lunch on a tray and left it on his table. It stayed there cooling as ASR thought furiously, fighting the greatest battle of his life.

ASR had no doubts about the strength of his feelings, whatever they were, for Khushi. He had felt mild interest for Lisa. Lavanya had chased him till he had tired of the game and given in. He had never before felt even one hundredth of what he felt for Khushi now. Lust...was it lust? Or was it something else? What he felt for Khushi was different from what he had felt for Lisa, Lavanya or any girl he had been attracted to before. He was sure about that.

He had no doubts.

He had never wanted to see any girl 24x7. Never wanted to stay watching her smile, never wanted to put a smile on her face, never worried about what she felt, thought or said. Never forgotten work in his preoccupation with her. Never sketched dresses for her, never dreamed of her, never worked from home so that he could see her, never gone shopping with her, never worried about her, fretted over her. Never wanted to buy the whole world and lay it at her feet. Never wanted to kiss her. Never.

‘Her way or mine?’ he thought.

Khushi would never accept anything less than marriage, he knew. So he was stuck. If he wanted her in his life, he would have to think about the possibility of marriage.

Marriage.

It was a terrifying word for a boy who had seen the worst of it, a scary word for a man who had steered clear of it all his adult life.

                                          ***

Mami sighed, slouching in her chair. “Poor hamre Arnav bitwaa. No girlwaa wants him. Even Khussi ran away,” she lamented.

“Think positive, Manorama,” nani said to irritate mami.

Mami grimaced at the taunt.

Anjali joined them. “Chotey likes Khushiji,” she said.

All faces perked up.

“But he doesn’t believe in love or marriage,” she warned them. “Now we have to wait and see if his feelings for Khushiji win against his past and his fear.”

Mami sat up. “Saasumma, shall we go to Lucknow next week with Akass bitwaa and Payaliya? Hamre Arnav bitwa bill meet Khussi again,” she suggested.

Nani’s face cleared. “Khussi bitiya didn’t take the gifts and the jewellery we bought for her and the Guptas. We can take them to her,” she added.

“No, nani, mami. Let Chotey decide first what he wants. Then we can approach Khushiji,” Anjali stopped them.

                                        ***

ASR got into bed to lie staring at the ceiling.

He felt numb, frozen. It was a strange feeling after one week of going to bed with a sense of anticipation, of dreaming of Khushi, of wanting to wake up the next morning to see her, of making sense of the thousand dress designs dancing in his head as he tried to sleep.

He pulled the blanket over himself. Maybe that would warm him.

It didn’t.

He turned to the right. Then to the left. There was no way he was sleeping.

He jumped out of bed, grabbed his car keys and walked out.

He drove for hours, the tyres measuring miles on the dark roads.

Scenes from the past rose to taunt him. He heard the gun shot, his mother’s cry, his sister wailing, the guests running. He saw his parents’ corpses lying on the floor, wrapped in white.

He braked hard, the car coming to a screeching halt.

He lowered his head to rest on his arm on the steering wheel.