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Arhi FF |Mohabat Door Jaane Na De| *Complete!* #2 (Page 113)

zonera1 Goldie
zonera1
zonera1

Joined: 14 December 2011
Posts: 1902

Posted: 23 August 2012 at 12:05pm | IP Logged
Brilliant FF! I am impressed!Do update soon!

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-doe-eyes-

kyunki_iloveu Goldie
kyunki_iloveu
kyunki_iloveu

Joined: 30 January 2006
Posts: 2074

Posted: 23 August 2012 at 9:54pm | IP Logged
amazing update...
i feel bad for anjali..
in the story...not soo much in the show right now..
:)

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-doe-eyes-

-doe-eyes- Goldie
-doe-eyes-
-doe-eyes-

Joined: 25 October 2011
Posts: 1228

Posted: 24 August 2012 at 3:25am | IP Logged

Made this deliberately long because I might not be around for the next couple of days- I will try though :) 


Chapter Forty

This is crazy...

Khushi paced restlessly before the front door, twisting a corner of her pallu agitatedly. This is crazy. Sitting still was not a feasible option. It felt almost as though a massive ship was tumbling precariously, like a giant awkward beast, from one side to the next, tossed about on a turbulent sea. The graceful butterflies that fluttered within her stomach seemed to have doubled in size, the flapping of their enormous wings making Khushi feel curiously queasy, her legs seemingly made of rubber, jutting out at odd angles and making walking straight difficult.

It was hard to believe, she thought to herself irritably, her frantic pulling of her pallu becoming rather aggressive, that only moments before her excitement had known no bounds. Now, having executed what she had congratulated herself for as being an ingenious plan, Khushi was possessed by jitters capable of bulldozing a fully grown human being. Oh, if only she could dash into the kitchen and immerse herself in the arduous task of whipping up jalebis...letting off some steam was becoming increasingly mandatory, and patience was wearing thin.

But that, Khushi thought irritably, was not possible. After all, she could not really sneak out of the house when Arnavji came to pick her up. Her family had to be told. And Khushi had only just managed to extricate herself from the endless teasing and ribbing and knowing glances- Buaji had gone so far as to pinch her cheek so hard Khushi had dropped the tea she was trying to sip nonchalantly all over herself. She could not risk any more leg-pulling. Groaning inwardly, Khushi bemoaned the innumerable times she had mischievously teased every member of her family- now, when she was knee-deep in a dilemma she had no idea what to do about, they were hell bent on settling the scores.

Sharply turning a corner, Khushi chanced a nervous glance at the door, as though half expecting to look through solid wood onto the street beyond. A fresh flock of butterflies burst into being, flooding within her, aggravating the erratic crescendo of her heart. She bit her lip, spasms of a fusion between thrill and edginess making her fists clench into the material of her saree.

The truth was, it was not the teasing, or the waiting, or the unfortunate absence of jalebis that was taxing her composure.

The truth was- Khushi was nervous.

Nervous like never before. Her heart throbbed, manacled by feeble attempts at restraint, at self-control, but her dhak dhak spiralled uncontrollably nevertheless. Half of her wanted to fly out the front door, skipping down the steps, twirling down the street- the other half, nonetheless, wanted to hide herself out of sight under her bed. Half of her could hardly keep her feet firmly planted on the ground, anticipating the moment he would arrive, the moment he would see her little surprise for him...while the other half, petrified with fear, unsure how he would react, wished she had not unthinkingly leapt at a spontaneous thought to put it into practice.

So enmeshed was Khushi in the pandemonium of her mind, her senses, that she did not even notice her Jiji and Amma peeking out of the door of her parent's bedroom, silently giggling away at her plight.

***

'Pagli hai, bilkul,' Amma chuckled, 'She wasn't this jittery even on her wedding day!'

Payal stuffed her fist into her mouth to stifle a fresh bout of giggles. 'You're right, Amma!' she exclaimed quietly, voice shaking slightly with amusement, 'She's behaving exactly like a bride before getting married! Excited and scared out of her wits at the same time...I wonder what Jethji wants to take her out for?'

Amma frowned in mock disapproval at her eldest daughter, swatting her arm as she sniggered away at the possibilities while grinning widely herself. 'That's their personal matter, Payalia,' she surmised aloud, 'We shouldn't prod.'

And then she sighed suddenly. 'I'm just glad they are happy together.'

The two met each others' gaze, and there was a silent understanding, a silent, relieved concord.

***

When Khushi's phone, sitting idly on a small table near the front door, rang out shrilly, it made her jump like a nervous cat. One hand clutched above her booming heart, Khushi blindly stumbled towards the noise, tripping twice over her own feet in the process, before snatching it up.

'H-hello?' Her voice sounded hopelessly timorous to her own ears, giving away her apprehension in an instant.

And the voice she had perhaps unknowingly been fantasising about this whole time spoke softly to her, sounding, for once, equally uncertain.

'Khushi? I'm outside...can you come out now?'

'Ji...I'm coming,' Khushi whispered back. In another second, the pitch of her voice had shot up several notes as she yelled out loudly, 'Bauji, Amma, Buaji, Jiji, hum chalte hai!'

She did not stop to wonder where all that nerve-wracking trepidation had gone, where the uncertainty that had plagued her vanished to.

All she knew was, her feet had automatically sent her careering towards the door, her Buaji's living room melting away into that well-known corridor, flooded with light from windows thrown wide open onto the realm of paradise, her heart and her mind melding seamlessly into one, stretching out both arms to finally thrust open the door she had been dithering before, not even waiting for it to swing completely open before plunging headfirst into the blinding light...

...and emerging before the prince charming of her girlhood dreams.

Only, she mused, a small uncertain smile playing about her lips at the thought, her prince charming rode a humungous white four-wheeler instead of a horse.

***

The minute the doors he had been staring keenly at flew open, Arnav felt as winded as he would have had a cannonball pummelled him squarely in the stomach. Breath was knocked completely out of his body, while the drum-rolls of his heart came to an abrupt and unexpected standstill.

The street, the miscellany of noise, the squeals and shrieks of kids playing on the street, the whirr of passing rickshaws, the buzz of intermingling conversation, all disappeared at once, drowned by sweet melodious music that seemed to emit from the ground itself, from the gentle languid billowing of the brightly coloured dupattas and sarees hung out to dry, or the whispering leaves of trees throwing flittering shadows around him...music that was a duet performed by their hearts...

If this was a dream, it was the best dream he could ask for. Khushi, approaching the low banister enclosing the front veranda with slow uncertain steps, unable to meet his eyes...in red. Khushi, resplendent in an ensemble of crimson, embellished with gold embroidery, her pallu dancing to the tune he could hear more clearly than his own heartbeat...Khushi, with her hair devoid of any pins or clips imprisoning it, the tresses brushing the creamy porcelain of her skin, a rose-pink blush creeping into her cheeks...Khushi, her pale neck bare except for the string of black beads, her mangalsutra, the symbol of her union with him...

Some tiny part of his mind struggled frantically to suck air into his body, his respiratory system having broken down, but he did not notice; nor did he notice the pain from the frenetic tempo of the drums in his heart, intent on fracturing his ribs. His throat had dried up; he couldn't swallow.

He had not seen her like this, clad completely in red, his favourite colour, since Diwali...that first night when his heart had succumbed completely to the bewitching spell of her beauty, her unreal, divine, heartbreaking beauty...his heart began to ache as she came nearer, her steps hesitant but unfaltering, towards him...his ears stood to attention at the tinkle of bangles that summoned him as soon as she released the pallu she had been nervously wringing thus far, her fingers knotting together instead, as she sailed down the few steps towards him...

Never before had he doubted his eyes as much as he doubted them now. Never before had his heart been so afraid to believe.

Believe that the host of red-gold bangles clinking together upon her wrists as she, blushing harder than ever, came nearer, evidently conscious under the ceaseless appraisal of his unblinking eyes, were the same ones he had brought for her on a night that seemed so long ago...

A night when he had tasted the bitter poison of what losing her was like...a night when he had found himself scouring the streets for the perfect present for the most perfect soul he had the fortune of knowing, of growing to love...

His heart swelled with nothing short of pure ecstasy...

She hadn't thrown those bangles away after all.

***

Khushi froze two feet away from him. She could feel his eyes burning holes through her. Only she knew the nearly supernatural effort she had to amass to keep her legs from reducing into jelly, to keep her knees from giving way as she more or less wobbled forwards, when she would much rather have been digging a hole in the ground she could jump into. She could feel his gaze boring into her the minute she had stepped out, and awareness thickened in the air, coalescing uneasyily- her skin, wherever it was bare, prickled, while whatever remained covered felt as though it was being charred slowly. The tiny locomotives of her mind frozen in place by her excitement scooted off at furious speed, her dhak dhak ricocheting madly.

Hai Devi Maiyya, what was I thinking? Why did I think wearing red today was a good idea? Of all the surprises I could think of giving I had to decide on this? Who knows what he's thinking, seeing me like this...I haven't worn red since Diwali...ESPECIALLY after finding out that it's his favourite colour...hai Devi Maiyya, what must he be thinking? Not only am I wearing red, I'm also wearing the bangles he gave me...will he think it's too much? Uff, Devi Maiyya, even I think it's too much! What if he asks me? What will I tell him? Just because red is his favourite colour, I decided to wear a colour I had banned from my wardrobe?

Rationality, reasoning, logic- these words had departed amiably enough from her mind, leaving Khushi in a state of nervous disarray. She could not meet his eyes. Who knew what she might see there? Who knew if she would be able to handle it? What had happened on Diwali night belonged firmly in the past, a past that had been a trick of the eye, a performance she had been part of, the awe disappearing as she had plucked the gall to step backstage. She had locked it away carefully into the attic of her mind, out of the reach of the present. It was not the tart, stinging memories of Diwali that had arrested her step.

It was that momentary, almost paralysing second of doubt that a woman would feel when the unwelcome notion that she was not good enough for the man she loves captures her soul.

And her heart, for a second no more than a block of marble, burst into life once more when her panicking mind noted, without needing her elusive eyes, that the little distance she was too mortified to cross was being eaten away by the man toppling her mind into unbelievable distress.

And next thing she knew, she could hear his laboured breathing matching hers, could feel his rough fingers working their irresistible magic against the burning skin of her cheek, cajoling her silently to look up at him.

'Khushi,' she heard him breathe, his hushed tone sounding strained, 'you look...amazing.'

***

He watched as she started a little, watched as a pair of stupefied eyes fluttered up at him with heartrending uncertainty aglow in them, watched even as he cursed his own inadequacy, his own inability to muster the words which would do justice to how...how beautiful, ravishing, mesmerising, magical- she looked right now.

He knew he did not deserve her. But he also knew he must be one of the most selfish creatures on the planet, because there was no way on earth he was letting her go.

'You look- beautiful- in this colour,' he murmured a little chokingly, his throat constricting. Her presence was heady, her aroma tantalising. It was enough to unman him, unman all the control he had struggled to master these past few days.  The surprise, remember the surprise, the surprise first before anything else, he chanted mentally to himself.

But what was he supposed to do, when his wife proved to be no less at surprises?... And then, the implications hovering about the colour of her saree, her choice in jewellery... they were making it very hard for Arnav to stay true to his purpose.

'Sh-shukriya,' Khushi breathed barely audibly, the tint of colour against her cheeks shooting up several tones. She decisively avoided looking up at him.

Now that was not acceptable.

***

'Waise- you were wearing something else when I came to drop you off this morning...'

A thousand sparks of electricity combusted at once, and Khushi narrowly escaped catching fire from embarrassment. She could tell, squirming at the thought, that the rouge of her face must be deepening by the second.

'Erh- woh- actually- humari matlab hai- I-' Khushi cleared her throat nervously in an attempt to at least sound coherent, 'I- I spilt tea on myself' she finished in a hurry, suddenly fervently grateful to Buaji for the cheek-pulling that had caused her to upset her teacup in the first place. Stuck in quicksand as she was at the moment, the last thing one could expect of Khushi right now would be one of her highly coloured stories. She sent a quick prayer of thanks to Devi Maiyya for saving her from the nightmare of coming up with a passable excuse at a time like this.

But both Devi Maiyya and Arnavji must have known that she was not speaking the whole truth, for at that moment the latter had slipped his forefinger under her chin and lifted it up, catching her unwary eyes off guard, and there was no mistaking the sudden spark of mischief aglow there.

What the-? Khushi only just stopped herself from exclaiming out loud. But before she could come up with a more appropriate expletive, Arnav was speaking again.

'In that case,' he murmured, once more raising goosebumps up the back of her neck, 'I would have spilt my coffee on you myself this morning- that is, if I had known you would change into this.'

The emphasis he added to his last word, along with the way his eyes swept over her from head to foot, flummoxed her no end; Khushi was not entirely sure whether she ought to concentrate more on glaring at him or trying to keep the steadily reddening blush on her face hidden from plain view. At this rate, she thought drily, she would not be surprised if her face caught fire. Laad governor kahika.

But then again, there was that secret little part of her heart that was beside itself with rapturous joy. He liked it. He had liked it. He did not need to say much- she could tell from the ring in his voice, the appreciative gleam in his eyes...he had liked her surprise...no matter how small, insignificant, ordinary, useless it was next to the millions of little gestures and words and indications he had showered upon her, each conveying a message meant only for her, each meaning more than any amount of love songs or romantic films she was an aficionado of...

He said she looked beautiful.

The butterflies collaborated in a complex loop-the-loop in her stomach, in tune to the rhythm of her dhak dhak.

***

'Where are we going?' Khushi found the courage to ask, after several minutes of driving along in silence.

'Nowhere in particular...' he answered noncommittally. But there was a difference in the way he said it- before, Khushi was certain those three words would have been barked at her, or better yet, met with stony silence. And now, every word was tempered with a subtle tenderness that Khushi did not fail to detect.

Perhaps, with that innate knowledge fitted into her heart, Khushi did not have any misgivings about probing further.

'But then, why have we been driving for so long?'

Her inquisitiveness was rewarded by a glance from those eyes she bashfully admitted to herself she was in love with, and a small smile that aggravated her already hyperactive pulse.

'Well...I want to get away from the crowds. I wanted to find someplace...private, you know? Where we can sit and talk and not get distracted or be interrupted.'

Dhak dhak. Dhak dhak. Dhak dhak.

Khushi marvelled at how this simple, if not commonplace a prospect, could send her heartbeat plummeting. The notion of being alone with him, with no one else around, outside the confines of their room...she could think no further. It threatened to send her heart skyrocketing out of her chest.

But for once, the prospect did not fill her with that manic dread that it was wont to only days before, terror at the treacherous twists and turns her path may take, only to lure her straight to the edge of a precipice. The more she mulled over it, in the still companionable silence of the car, the more it amazed her. How she could no longer see him as a menace. How so much could change so suddenly, in so little time.

How the man who had been her destroyer had grown to be the one she depended on to stay alive. How he could become, in Jiji's words, a necessity.

'What are you thinking?' his soft query broke into her reverie. She gave herself a slight shake before hoisting herself upright in her seat.

'Nothing in particular,' she replied, equally softly, with a small smile in return.

 It was not that she wanted to hide anything from him- but she was convinced she could never find enough words to make him understand. Comprehend how drastically the relationship they shared, her understanding of him, her love for him, had evolved. No words could ever convey that. 

But wait...Khushi frowned in perplexity. She might not be an expert when it came to the question of love- it had taken her long enough to realise that her high blood pressure and hyperacidity where not exactly medical concerns- but she did know that there was a certain protocol that people in love generally seemed to follow. Her checklist was plain enough.

He loved her. Check. She loved him. Check. He had told her that he loved her. Check.

But she hadn't told him that she loved him yet.

Khushi gulped. It was all she could do it keep both fists tightly clenched, to prevent one from clasping over her heartbeat, running amok at the mere notion of having to verbalise what she had finally admitted to herself only a handful of hours ago. It had taken her this long to actually understand, or rather, admit, that she was in love. Only Devi Maiyya knew how much longer it would take her to steel herself and her vocal chords to say it out loud. Just appearing before him dressed in a way he would like had nearly made her keel over in a nervous breakdown...telling him she loved him...the actresses in all those Shah Rukh Khan films made it look so easy...if only one could be so intrepid in real life...apprehension swamped her once more, pooling in the pit of her stomach...

But she knew it had to be done. How else would he know? She had never dared to believe that he might love her until he had actually spoken the words, and even then it had been hard enough. And it was only after hearing him say it, not once but several times in a row, that light had finally re-entered that dark, dreary passageway she had managed to scale across, to the door that had given way to the future she had believed did not exist. The door at the end of her corridor, which had opened to reveal the prince of her fairy-tale...

...and no fairy tale was complete without a heartfelt confession. But something told Khushi that a filmy, over-the-top 'I love you' would neither suffice nor be plausible under the circumstances. She had seen the anguish in his eyes, in his every move, at the slightest sign of rejection from her...and his pain had become unanimous with hers...she could no longer bear to watch him punish himself...it hurt so bad when he did...

She had to let him know what he meant to her. But how? How could she possibly express her pounding heartbeat, her erratic breathing, the butterflies in her stomach, the genuineness of her sentiments, in just a few words?

***

Arnav drew the car to stop midway down a deserted stretch of road, some way outside town. It was more or less disused, with only a few cars passing by at most. The tarmac was carpeted with the leaves shed by the trees leaning over the vaguely defined track, throwing dancing pinpoints of light where sunshine escaped through the outstretched branches, lush with foliage.

Arnav had driven past here before. He had speeded down many unused, unknown, abandoned roadways like this before, knew them quiet well. It might have been an inherent need to escape the haunting clutches of his nightmarish past, his lacklustre, dreary present, the reality that despite becoming the architect of his own world, it was the demons of his past that conditioned and spurred his actions, which had compelled him to spend hours careening up one street and down another. Almost as though the deafening speed would help catapult him out of the prison his own mind was becoming.

He had sped down this same road on that unforgettable day that he had found that lecherous snake of a brother-in-law on the roof with his wife. Demented rage had possessed him then.

And he had sped down this same road again only a couple of days ago, on another unforgettable day...the day he had wound up at the temple, to witness that one life-changing conversation between two strangers, a mother and her son...then, he had been possessed by grief, by anguish, by regret and guilt that had finally brought him down on his knees, begging for forgiveness from the girl he had wronged so heinously.

And today, this same, deserted street would bear witness to another phase in their strange, perhaps irrational, incomprehensible story.

Today, Arnav would try to mend ties he had severed himself many, many days ago.

He drew in a deep, steadying breath before turning to face his wife. Khushi had been gazing vacantly off into space, a very slight frown marring the smooth expanse of her forehead, in the process of almost pouting. A pang of affection tore across his heart.

'Khushi?'

She stirred, as though returning from somewhere very far away. He silently observed her movements as she shook herself slightly, registering her surroundings with a faint air of astonishment. Evidently she had only just realised that the car had come to a stop.

'Where-'

'Nowhere in particular,' he answered quietly before she had a chance to complete her question. She continued to stare back at him, somewhat baffled. Involuntarily, he heaved a sigh before swiftly unclipping his seatbelt, so he could fully pivot about in his seat and look his wife straight in the eye.

Holding her somewhat bemused gaze, he inquired, this time not stopping to wonder why on earth he was whispering, 'Do you remember the condition, Khushi?'

A moment passed before comprehension dawned on her face, and her slightly parted lips sealing themselves, she nodded in the affirmative.

'You have to take it, Khushi. You promised.'

He wondered wryly whether she could detect that note of desperation creeping inexorably into his voice. She was frowning at him now, justifiably puzzled by his repeated insistence.

'But- what is it?' Khushi asked, still frowning.

What a simple question. And yet so difficult to answer. Although he gazed straight back into her eyes, almost without blinking, as though half-hoping she would be able to read the answer to her question in his eyes, could read the dozen unnameable emotions that were tagged to it, Arnav felt the faintest wave of panic unfurl in him. How was he supposed to go about this? Broach a subject that had given them both enough pain? He determined to counter her question with one of his own.

'You remember when we got married, Khushi?'

The question came out somewhat abruptly, sounding jarringly tactless to his own ears. He swore inwardly at his hopeless lack of delicacy. They both knew that their wedding day had not been the happiest day of their lives.

If anything, it had been one of the darkest.

He searched Khushi's face earnestly for signs of distress, resentment even. Instead, a shadow flitted across her face before her features settled into unmoving impassivity. She answered tonelessly, 'Yes.'

Arnav tried to ignore the vague flicker of fear that licked the inside of his stomach at her sudden apathy. If anything, he would have been happier if she had shown signs of anger, of sorrow, or regret, all of which could be very well be justified. This strange immovability in someone as expressive as Khushi was eerily frightening. He ploughed on, overlooking the tautening of his nerves-

'Even though- even though the circumstances we got married under were not right- no- in fact, even though the circumstances we got married under were wrong in every possible way-' he was starting to choke on his words again, hauling out each syllable, staggering through the maze he had willingly leapt into, 'I- I made sure we did it right. I mean to say- we took the pheres, I put the mangulsutra round your neck and the sindoor on your forehead...in front of both of our families, so that they could not dispute that they were married...especially Shyam Manohar Jha-'

'Why are you bringing this up now, Arnavji?' Khushi interposed softly, killing his floundering words upon his tongue. Her voice was still flat, toneless. The blush he adored in her cheek had receded, to be replaced by a paleness that almost bordered grey.

'Because,' Arnav replied stiffly, feeling his entire body contract out of the acuteness of his desperation, bracing for the penalties he deserved for each of his crimes, ignoring the frantic screaming in his head warning him that he was single-handedly wagering away everything he had earned back in the last few days, 'because it was all wrong, Khushi. We did everything right for the wrong reasons. I want to fix that.'

'What do you mean?'

There was a moment of silence between them. Silence so palpable that even the rustling of leaves outside seemed to die out.

'We never really got engaged, Khushi...'

He had taken her aback, he could see that from the sudden flash in her otherwise unreadable eyes. It was only to be expected. He had more or less leapt from one track of thought halfway down another, switching direction so fast the change left him feeling slightly giddy. But the moment the words had slipped out of his mouth, Arnav could feel some of the suffocating load weighing him down lift. This was the very grievance that had nearly plunged him back into the endless depths of darkness two evenings ago, when he had found himself sitting with his family in the living-room, but only physically- his mind had been eons away. His mind had been busy thrashing itself in recrimination, flogging itself without mercy for his atrocious desecration of the word 'marriage.'

'No...' Khushi responded slowly, her tone betraying nothing. It was maddening, almost. 'No, we never got engaged...'

And Arnav could not help himself then. The crux of his despair, which he knew he had no right to harbour but could not help doing so, leapt out of his mouth.

'...to each other, at least.'

There it was. There, in plain sight. His vulnerability. His helplessness. His weakness. That fear which had bred itself within him until it became part and parcel of the insecurity lurking in the darkest corners of his existence.

The fear of losing her, the fear that he had been so close, so dangerously close, to doing so.

Just because he was too arrogant, too egotistical, too thick-headed, to admit that his heart was not for him to bequeath to anyone, but for her to claim.

***

There it was again. That anguish resurfacing in his eyes, that palpable, heart-breaking pain...eyes which looked back into the dismal, immutable past instead of the hopeful present...

And just like that, his pain swallowed up hers, and only one thought remained behind...she could not let him punish himself like that. It hurt her. It hurt so bad.

***

'I wasn't engaged,' a tiny little voice pricked the bubble of his self-contempt, pulling him back into the present, 'At least I like to think I wasn't.'

'What?' he refocused on her, somewhat disoriented, confused.

The impassivity had seeped out of her expression, and, head lowered, Khushi was looking timidly up at him from under those delectably long lashes.

'I meant...I never got engaged properly,' Khushi was visibly struggling to explain, his lack of cooperation making her tone take on an adorably sullen edge, 'On the day of the sagai...I missed the muhurat...and then, he put the ring on the wrong finger.'

'Wrong- finger?'

'Yes,' Khushi nodded energetically, holding out her right hand in front of his face, making him start a little, 'He put the ring on this finger,' she indicated which one by wiggling it, her expression alone telling him that it was not supposed to be worn there. 'And when a person gets engaged, they're supposed to wear the ring on this finger...' She held up her left hand now, pointing to the ring finger.

 'Because...' she added softly, almost to herself with a semi-smile blossoming across her lips, 'the vein of this finger goes straight to the heart...'

The ring finger that had remained bare even after their wedding. Arnav's battered heart renewed its rhythm haltingly.

'But,' Arnav debated hoarsely, almost too afraid to believe what she was saying. It may not be much, it may not be significant- he himself had come to the conclusion that being engaged to Shyam had actually guaranteed that sooner or later it would be destined to come to an end. But it had been a murky stage in his life, a stage when his heart (which at that point he was not in the habit of heeding) had stood still thinking she was leaving him, of her own free will, for someone else.

And now she was saying she never believed in that engagement to begin with...and it sounded far too good to be true.

'But...' he croaked again, 'you were wearing the ring on that finger, afterwards...'

'Yes,' Khushi agreed, almost impatiently. Clearly the memory was unpleasant; it was making her pout, her forehead creasing in ill-humour...the sight jogged the pace of his heartbeat, loosened some more the weight pinning him down, 'But I put that on myself. Besides, the ring kept falling off of my finger all the time...and you're never supposed to take off your engagement ring, no matter what happens...'

'So that means...once you put this on, you won't ever take it off again?'

***

It took Khushi a few seconds to catch up to what he was saying.

And even when her eyes rested on the small, deep purple velvet box sitting in the middle of his palm, materialising, it seemed to her, from nowhere, the muddled trains of her thought could not come up with a suitable explanation to account for it.

As she continued to stare from the box to him, and from him to the box, in rapidly growing confusion, Arnav flipped the lid open.

And Khushi could not help but gasp.

Inside, tucked into the heart of a tiny, luscious purple cushion, was a ring.

With a single, lustrously gleaming pearl fixated in the centre, with a several tiny diamonds clustered about it.

'It's about time we got engaged Khushi...'

***

Looking at the sudden radiance that began to glow from Khushi as she stared in disbelief at the ring, looking at her blush, looking at her eyelids flutter, her shy glances at him as her lower lip trembled...Arnav made a mental note to drop by the family jewellers of the Raizadas and thank the poor elderly man he had harassed no end the previous day, rejecting all his offers of finely cut diamonds and exquisite platinum. 

After all, he had succeeded in crafting the perfect pearl among rings, with every detail he had demanded down of it, to create the ornament to adorn his wife's slim, tapered finger for the rest of her life. 


Please, please, please, please, please leave your likes and comments??? I've been dropping hints about this chapter and Arnav's surprise since Chapter 29/30-  most of this was typed in the few hours I get to spend home these days (my mum likes dragging me out to meet people I don't know or don't remember before leaving for uni :s )- I'm not sure how this one will go down :s


I reserve all rights over this work of fiction and request that readers do not reproduce/copy/modify it elsewhere and/or claim credit. Thanks :) 

Link to : Thread 3



Edited by -doe-eyes- - 04 September 2012 at 8:30am

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Rozy77 IF-Dazzler
Rozy77
Rozy77

Joined: 04 July 2010
Posts: 3494

Posted: 24 August 2012 at 4:50am | IP Logged
res
...
yayy im 1stBig smile
wow, this was just so so awesomeClapStar
i can never get tired of saying ur such an amazing writer...Star
the way u describe everything is so poetic n magicalDay Dreaming, i dunno hun but u are truly giftedClapClap
 
i loveddd this partBig smileBig smile
omg an engagement...i was tearing up at this entire chapter
i constantly go back n read the earlier parts n still arnav's love, determination n remorse is the same...i just love the way he won her heart backHeart. its too beautifulEmbarrassed
 
aww khushi is such a sweetheartEmbarrassed...am so so happy she wore the bangles n u made her wear red... asr's fantasyBlushing
im so eager for the next part when he'll put the ring on her finger..Day Dreaming
im wondering if she'll confess? that will be like the moment
its so excitingBig smile
 
i also liked that short, sweet moment between payal n her momThumbs Up
 
i know u'll send a pm later...thanks in advance for thatLOL
take care dear, it was an amazing partHug


Edited by Rozy77 - 24 August 2012 at 5:36am

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danisharamasawm-doe-eyes-

arushi05 Goldie
arushi05
arushi05

Joined: 17 June 2012
Posts: 1723

Posted: 24 August 2012 at 6:24am | IP Logged
Well i lost the first position but still i am second. Awesome awesome awesome. I am loosing count in saying to you that you are an awesome writer.
I never expected the bangles to be khushi's surprise but i must say that was the best surprise ever along with the red saree.
I really liked how you made arnav undo all the wrong things from that place where he had before taken a wrong decision.
The way you expressed arnav's helplessness and fear in doing the right thing and bring about the topic of engagement was very well portrayed.
You left us on a cliffhanger!!
Thanks for the pm. Will be waiting for the next chapter

Edited by arushi05 - 24 August 2012 at 7:08am

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-doe-eyes-

Anupama. IF-Rockerz
Anupama.
Anupama.

Joined: 21 July 2012
Posts: 5725

Posted: 24 August 2012 at 6:26am | IP Logged
Lovely lovely lovely! :D

The following 1 member(s) liked the above post:

-doe-eyes-

preetihere IF-Dazzler
preetihere
preetihere

Joined: 06 February 2012
Posts: 4244

Posted: 24 August 2012 at 6:47am | IP Logged
Oh that was beautiful!! After all that anxiety and the lovely long drive..A ring! i somehow had that feeling yet it is so beautifully written!

The following 1 member(s) liked the above post:

-doe-eyes-

smileyhug7679 IF-Dazzler
smileyhug7679
smileyhug7679

Joined: 14 October 2011
Posts: 4549

Posted: 24 August 2012 at 6:50am | IP Logged
Wow that was amazing...
Loved the whol surprise from kushis side and everyone mercilessly teasing her
Poor girl feel so bad oft hat she is been teased by all..
Ad eh way Arnav heart felt constricted looking at her in red
Wow. Nice feelings from both of them displayed to please a other


Loved it  poor jewel maker 

The following 1 member(s) liked the above post:

-doe-eyes-

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