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OMG!!!! I don't know what to say! When I was typing this up, it was really a way to vent some of the frustration I was feeling at how the show was going...I never expected this kind of response! I am totally thoroughly completely overwhelmed! Thank you all SO VERY MUCH!!!!
Sigh...I couldn't help myself from writing a second part after all these wonderful comments...but it kinda turned out a bit different from what I had in my head :s So I don't really feel keen on continuing after this...it might appear really messed up and confusing and the only excuse I can give is that I was fasting and dying of thirst (that's a bit dramatic) while writing this. So I might write up another version if you guys think this isn't good enough
'...you said you just wanted me to be happy, Khushi,' he whispered, watching as his warm breath washed over the pale of her skin, tinting it suddenly a blooming pink, 'You were lying...' he accused her softly.
And at that precise moment, the back of Khushi's heel scraped the edge of the pool, and her eyes, previously veiled by her delectably long, fluttering lashes, flew up to him, widened in shock as she plunged backwards.
Only to have his arm thrown securely about her and yanked sharply back into his chest.
And even in the midst of the uproar the heavens had kicked up, despite the almighty crash of thunder and the blinding flashes of lightning, the stinging cold of turbulent winds, Arnav felt a queer peace descend upon him the minute Khushi was ensconced in his arms. Where she belonged. He could feel the convulsions of shudders rippling through her body, though her limbs were stiff with shock, could hear her heavy, laboured panting as she gasped for breath. And his grip around her, already unrelenting, tightened further.
As he felt her relax under his grip, his fingers twining into her hair as he stroked the unendurably soft, silken tresses, felt her body, so warm, so comforting, melt into his, Arnav murmured softly against the strands of her hair dancing against the wind-
'You were lying Khushi...you said you wanted me to be happy...'
The words seemed to take some seconds to register. In one instant, Khushi froze, and without warning wedged her arms in between himself and her, trying fruitlessly to wrench herself free. But despite all her efforts, Arnav's grip, like shackles of steel chained about her, refused to renounce their hold.
Instead, as Khushi continued vainly to wriggle free of his stranglehold, Arnav whispered to her gently, as though continuing a conversation they had been having the whole time, '...because how can I be happy when the person that taught me what it means leaves me?'
Khushi's struggles faltered, and Arnav watched with a growing lump in his throat as she bent her head away from him, trying to shield the tears that blossomed into her beautiful, big eyes. Her lower lip quivered, and as he, without warning, snatched her closer, her arms fell limp to her sides.
'Why don't you understand?' the quaver in her voice agitated the twisting ache in his heart, quaking with the pain that was etched across her face, 'Why don't you see that it's not possible? You can't be happy if Di isn't, and Di can't be happy if I'm here!' That chilling hush climbed with each syllable to almost a shriek, a furious challenge aglow in her eyes as flashed upwards to dare his.
But Arnav was beyond understanding now. He had had enough.
'Why don't you understand?' he growled, grabbing hold of her forearms, shaking her as though half-hoping it would knock some sense into her, 'Why don't you understand that I can't let you go, dammit? I'm sick of it, Khushi, I'm sick of this! I'm tired too! I'm tired of being left hanging between you and Di! I'm tired of trying to prove myself to my sister after I spent a lifetime making her happiness my first priority! Risking everything, risking us! I'm tired of losing your heart and your faith every time you trust me with it, Khushi!'
Breathless from his outburst, he was panting as though he had just run a mile through the battling windstorm. His eyes, opened to their fullest extent in an almost furious desperation, frantically sought to delve into hers, to drown in the soothing eddies of their liquid dark depths, to restore order to his chaotic world. But her eyes were tempestuous tonight, a pained hesitation tumbling within them, and Arnav could not take it anymore.
Indignation spread like water soaked by cloth across the face of Anjali Jha as she frowned in ire at NK. But before she could demand explanations for his impertinence, NK had rounded the foot of the bed and had plopped down in front of Anjali, gazing fixedly at her. His jaw was firm, almost set in stone, his brow furrowed. All traces of the good-humoured, jovial NK whose lovable pranks and endearing mishaps made him everybody's sweetheart were markedly absent tonight.
There was a long moment of silence, in which the incessant ticking away of the clock sounded menacingly louder.
'I used to respect you so much, Di,' NK sighed at last, wearily, 'I used to adore you for being such a loving, caring person.' He paused.
When it became evident that he did not intend to proceed, Anjali asked, her voice toneless, 'What is that supposed to mean?'
But NK really did not have the patience to tiptoe about Anjali's finer sentiments like everyone else in the family, to his covert annoyance, were doing. Yes, Anjali had suffered, she had been deceived, she had been hurt badly by people she had trusted and loved with every particle of her being. But she was not the only one, and she had to be made to see it. He had come here with a purpose, and he knew exactly which vantage point he would launch his offensive from. He countered her question with another.
'Do you love your brother, Di?'
Whatever Anjali may have expected, it certainly had not been that. That hostility that had crept into the crevices of her face was wiped clean as a thoroughly taken aback look stamped itself there instead.
'What?' she asked, blankly uncomprehending.
NK released his breath slowly, taking his time. 'I asked...do you love your brother? Your Chote?'
'Am I really so bad?' he demanded in a low, empty whisper, a gaunt look stealing insidiously into his eyes. Khushi's astonished eyes locked with his. 'I know I've done- horrible, horrible things to you Khushi- things that I might not be able to make up for even in this lifetime...but am I really so bad that you want to punish me this cruelly?'
Khushi, that look of injury seamlessly melting into bewilderment, whispered, 'Arnavji, what-'
'Why did you save me then Khushi?' he could no longer disguise the pain in his voice. There was no point anymore, trying to hold up a facade courtesy of which he was on the brink of losing everything he held dear today. Those careful, meticulous barriers he had propped about himself, for the sole purpose of warding off the possibility of having his feelings exposed, having his weaknesses known and used to topple down his methodical, ordered, perfectly engineered world...were the very reason he had failed, again and again, to show Khushi how hopelessly dependent he had grown to become on her.
This time was a matter of life and death.
'Why did you save me?' he repeated bitterly, so low that his words were enveloped by the mad frenzied rustling of leaves. His eyes had hardened into shards of amber, burning with a consuming intensity, 'If you wanted to leave me alone like this, why did you save me? You should have left me with those kidnappers, you should have left me to die!'
'Arnavji!' Khushi's voice shot up sharply, her eyes almost narrowed at him in blatant shock, and what, he fancied, was anger. But there was more than that. A part of him was nearly praying devoutly that the wounded spark he had detected flashing in her eyes was not wishful thinking, not imagination.
He ploughed on, as though he had not heard her, 'Every single moment I spent there, bound, gagged, barely conscious- every single damned second, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada- you were the only person I thought about! The only person I wanted to see, to hold, to hear!...Not knowing if I could ever be with you again, ever see you again...dying every day, not knowing...'
The pain an only too familiar memory, the longing an only too familiar ache...despite the words that were streaming from his lips of their own accord, as though they had simply been waiting for their cue, poised at the tip of his tongue to spill out, he knew in the core of his heart that no amount of words could ever verbalise the agony, the sheer tearing, harrowing torture those dark days had consisted of. Not knowing if he would ever be able to see her again, not knowing if he could ever see her smile, hear her laugh, watch her beautiful eyes glimmer with merriment...no physical pain could parallel, could rival the excruciation of feeling one's heart ripped out, battered mercilessly, and left to bleed, and that was the feeling Arnav had harboured within him every single day, with remorse that he could have doubted her, regret that they might never be together again, fear that he could never seek atonement for his sins, tormenting him torturously slowly.
How could he put all that into words?
Sucking in short spurts of cold air, having completely forgotten about the imminent storm as low menacing rumbles of thunder growled from above, Arnav almost reeled as he was revisited by memories of the nightmare he had lived. All his attempts to keep Khushi to himself, to bond her to himself forever, were a consequence of that nightmare. He might, one day, even be thankful to it. For without it he never would have admitted to himself that life without Khushi- was no life at all. That letting her go was not a choice he had.
His focus returned, somewhat dazed, to the girl he was still clutching tightly in place, standing limp and staring almost vacantly at him, her wide eyes curiously expressionless, her mouth slightly open.
But he also saw- his throbbing heart beat a little enthusiastically- that his unwarranted, unexpected tirade had stripped away the garrisons Khushi had been stationing about herself, and she was now before him, exposed, vulnerable. She was ready to listen, and not deflect.
'Do you know,' his voice was trembling uncontrollably, even though it was in an undertone, but he did not care anymore, 'what it felt like when you fell over that ridge?' His hands had released her forearms in a fraction of a second and firmly cupped her face instead. He coaxed her to raise her eyes, captured her gaze, 'Do you have any idea what it felt like when I thought you- you were- you had- left me?' The last two words dropped to a hush, swallowed by the gusts surrounding them. Her skin felt cold under his touch, and he himself was gradually benumbed by the intensifying chill outside. Khushi continued to stare wide-eyed at him, as though almost afraid to seek answers to the questions he pelted at her.
'I felt like I would die.' He whispered simply, one short, irrefutable statement. 'I felt I would never breathe again.'
'What are you talking about?' an evidently insulted Anjali retorted, 'Of course I do! He's my little brother, my life!' Irritation had clambered into her tone, and it was obvious that she was losing her patience with him. But unfortunately, NK thought grimly, if not a little stoically, he had lost his patience with the sheer inanity running rampant in this house a long time ago. He returned Anjali's offended gaze steadily enough.
'If that is so,' he responded, calmly, 'then how is it that you don't seem to care about the fact that he is in pain?'
The affronted look on Anjali's face wavered a little, an uncertainty flickering in her eyes, before a stony impassivity set in again.
'Chote has his own life now...and as far as I can see, he is not in any pain. After all, he is in love...that doesn't involve pain does it?'
NK felt disbelief, downright incredulity grip him at Di's words, tinged ever so slightly with bitterness. Is she delusional? Can't she SEE how much Nannav is suffering because of her? He had always known Di to be sensitive, and he had also known about the rocky, traumatic past she and her younger brother had shared. But in spite of that knowledge NK was having difficulty reminding himself of the reasons behind her fragility, fighting to remain within finer sensibilities as he took her to task.
After a violent mental battle with himself, NK managed, quietly, 'I don't know about love...but I do know he is in pain because you are distancing yourself from him.'
Anjali shook her head slightly, that almost disconcerting apathy lodged firmly in her eyes, 'No...he is distancing himself from me...he's in love, he doesn't care for his Di anymore...'
NK scrutinised the woman sitting before him with a growing conviction that she reminded him of something. He racked his brains for what, frowning at Anjali as she stared into space, her forehead slightly creased, her lower lip slightly protruding, with an expression that almost bordered sulkiness- it struck him in a flash.
A child. She was reminding him of an attention-seeking, stubborn child who simply refuses to be rational.
Except, NK thought wryly, she was not a child. She was about to give birth to one.
'He doesn't care for his Di...' NK repeated, his tone light, contemplative. He gazed off into the middle distance, completely aware of her eyes on him, 'But right now- I'm wondering if you care about him...after all- he'd been kidnapped and you didn't even know. And now that he's back...after going through who knows what...you don't seem to be bothered.'
NK marvelled at the fact that he actually succeeded in keeping his voice steady- never in his life had he been this vindictive, and he squirmed inside for every biting word he flung in Anjali's direction. He knew with unshakeable confidence that someone had to do it. Someone had to break her out of the fiction where she was the victim and everyone else the persecutor, that she had deluded herself into believing. She needed to see that everyone around her only wanted what was good for her, and by being on the warpath, she was only pushing away the people who actually loved her.
As opposed to that- snake- that she considered her husband.
Yet, secure with the knowledge that what he was doing was necessary, he still could not muster the courage to face her. He still feared that his indictments against her would perhaps shatter those last traces of self-control Anjali retained, and plunge her completely into mental breakdown. But it was a gamble he had to make, for the sake of this family's survival- skirting the edges of the problem only gave it more room to grow and become more malevolent, more destructive... the silence grew inconspicuously oppressive, and NK stared hard at a patch on the wall, fighting to keep his tone casual, unwavering, as he continued...'And instead of thanking the person that nearly got killed trying to save him, you think she's responsible for wrecking your home.'
'No...no...she was trying to steal my husband...'
'The same husband that tried to get married to her behind your back? You knew Di, she actually told you that she was getting engaged to a man named Shyam...she told you that she broke her engagement-'
'Lies! All lies! Is there any proof that one word, one accusation that girl made against my husband is true?'
'Is there any proof that those accusations aren't true?'
NK felt a twinge of pity for the woman spasmodically shivering before him, rocking backwards and forwards in an uncanny replica of how Khushiji, swathed in denial, had been only moments before. He felt heartless, shredding apart the feeble reality that she chose to live in, ripping humaneness to reveal the harsher realities of a crueller world. But it would be downright sadistic if he allowed her to live the lie she wanted to live, a convenient lie that implicated neither her husband nor her brother, the two people she loved the most, and lay the blame on a third, sacrificed an innocent girl for the sake of a farcical fable. And that he could not allow. Even though he knew he was destroying each and every one of those defences she relied on to sustain herself, she would only learn how to heave herself up and keep moving after she had faced the fall...
'It can't be true...he's my husband...he loves me...'
'The same husband that got your brother kidnapped?'
'No...it's a lie...'
'How can you be so sure? Have you never suspected anything he's done? The travel agent, the mysterious disappearances...'
'The whole time he was away from Delhi but was staying as a tenant at Buaji's? You know there is an entire neighbourhood full of witnesses, Di...the whole of Laxmi Nagar can't be lying...'
'Whatever else you deny, Di, you can't deny that Nannav was kidnapped...and whoever kidnapped him tried to kill him.'
'The question is...who are you going to trust? The girl who was convinced something was wrong since the moment Nannav left...the girl who did not rest until she hunted him down, who thwarted attempts of cold-blooded murder...or the man who's been accused of trying to kill him?'
Di was sitting upright now, the blanket that had been pristinely laid across her thrown to one side. She was panting, sweat beading her forehead, hand clasping her throat, staring with eyes stretched open in shock...
'I'm not telling you to believe everything that has happened Di...I'm saying you should look at the facts and make your own judgments...All I'm asking from you, Di...is to ask yourself what is true, rather than telling yourself what you want to believe.'
Khushi continued to stare up at him, drawing ragged breaths through her mouth. He was still holding her face, that beloved face he could not do without, securely in the cup of his hands. She was barely blinking, and Arnav eagerly seized the opportunity to eat away at the distance between them, cleaning in closer until their eyes were an inch apart, and he inhaled, suddenly parched, that inebriating scent of fresh jasmine emanating from her skin.
The tempest raging in her eyes had died. Instead, he could see gentle ripples of tender emotions lapping over one another.
'I know I've done a lot to you Khushi, so much you might never be able to forgive me,' he pressed hoarsely. Now that he had unburdened that bulging vessel of unspoken secrets in his heart, he could not stem their flow and the words tripped from his mouth without any intention of holding back. 'But I'm not as selfless as you. I can't just walk away for the happiness of others. I'm very, very selfish- and there is no way I'm letting you go anywhere. I've told you before, the more you insist on leaving, the more I'm going to hold you back.'
Khushi's jaw was practically hanging open now, looking rather thunderstruck. Arnav, for some reason, had a crazy urge to smile. This was possibly the first time Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada had been rendered speechless for such a prolonged period of time. In fact, he conjectured, the idea appearing almost amusing, this was possibly the first time he had spoken so much. And he did not mind at all.
As he speculated on these matters, Khushi, blinking profusely as though suddenly aware of her bearings, mouthed wordlessly for a few seconds before appearing to find her voice.
'But,' she mumbled weakly, 'I'll have to leave anyway...the contract-'
And Arnav declared, in dictatorial tones, with the air of a man ending an issue once and for all, 'To hell with the contract. We are getting married for real this time- and if I have to personally haul you over to the mandap, I will.'
For some reason the self-assurance, and, he admitted, arrogance with which this came out, appeared to irk Khushi, who frowned at his statement.
'You can't force me!' she shot out, her chin jutting upwards in defiance.
'You know me better than that, Khushi,' he drawled softly, and watched as pleasure coursed through his veins the sudden blush that infused into the creamy white of her cheeks. But Khushi was Khushi, and his Khushi did not like going down without a fight. He should have known, he smirked inwardly, that her reticence would be short-lived.
'You didn't even believe in marriage!'
'I didn't believe in love either.'
Khushi's mouth fell open at that, but she managed to catch herself in time and, unable to find a suitable retort, turned her face the other way with an annoyed, 'Hmph!'
'I'm giving you a very good deal, actually Khushi,' Arnav schooled his voice to become perfectly matter-of-fact. His heart, without warning, had grown lighter. He could almost feel the bruises that Di's disbelief, her cutting remarks, had endowed him with, beginning to heal. Some of the darkness that had swept over him like the wings of a giant monstrous bird was diffused as light filtered into the shadows he had carried since his ordeal in the weeks held captive...Khushi was not resisting him anymore...Khushi was standing with him, not against him...and if she was by his side, he could withstand Di's doubt, could win back her trust... 'You can punish me however you want for every time I've hurt you...all except leaving me. Unless you want to kill me, of course-'
He didn't get to continue, however, as Khushi's hand had clamped firmly over his mouth at that moment, the blazing look in her eyes a cross between ferocity and agony. She nearly snapped through clenched teeth, 'Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop saying things like that...' and just as abruptly her voice softened, became almost appealing, 'please don't say things like that...'
Neither were aware of how long they stood there, stationary, not moving, simply caught and captivated by each others' eyes. They did not notice as Khushi's grasp over his mouth loosened and she hesitantly withdraw her hand...did not notice as Arnav began to caress the velvety soft skin of Khushi's cheeks with the tips of fingers that had never relinquished their hold, stroking ever so gently as though afraid she might break, or disappear, if he did not take care...did not notice as the uproar of the storm died down to be replaced by fine rain, that met the ground with a faint hiss, as though earth's thirst was being quenched, a lull nestling about the scene...did not notice as they were walled in by curtains upon curtains of shimmering drizzle...their clothes sodden, skin drenched...
'What are you doing?' Khushi asked suddenly, jolting back to reality as Arnav's fingers snuck into her hair and locked there, tugging slightly so that her chin lifted upwards for him. Arnav himself had leaned in so close that there was barely half an inch of distance between him, and those quivering, dewy, tantalisingly delectable looking lips.
'I've said this before,' he murmured, his hot breath sweeping over her cold, damp skin, currents of electricity zigzagging through him, 'that you wouldn't mind...agar tum mujhe apni pati manti ho...toh.'
And as distance become non-existent and the world melted away, as her eyes slowly, submissively drooped shut, her hands tentatively placing themselves, lightly, on his shoulders, as the last remnants of control snapped, not even the sudden deluge of cold bullets of rain pattering about them, soaking them to the skin, could pull apart the two souls destined to merge into one since the beginning of time.
Nothing could, this time.
I think I'm gonna leave it off over here...already got too many incomplete stories I need to tie up :s
Pleeease let me know what you think??
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:)
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