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Shikha waitwa ka estopwa karekae padi!.
Ab toh update karliyo!
Ab toh update karliyo!
"I want you to meet my mother!" he blurted uncertainly.
He watched her grimace in confusion. "But I've met Pavitraa Aunty, remember? And your dad too!"
Arnav shook his head impatiently. "Not mom! My mother!" he said, stressing on the last two words.
Her features were still clouded with confusion but it soon drained away as realization replaced it. "You mean..." her voice died and she bit her lip fiercely. His mother, who had given birth to him, and then left him and his father just because she couldn't be happy nor would she try to. His mother, the woman who was the reason behind his reluctance against marriage.
Why did it seem so strongly – strong like the smell of burning chillies – that she would not like that woman? She looked at him again. He seemed troubled, almost nervous with a dash of excitement, like a student waiting for his results, who knew he had done well but was still unsure. He was eager to meet his mother, it dawned on her with the same impact as the World Trade Centre coming crashing down on her.
"You know..." he licked his lips tensely. "This is why I came to New York. Yeah, I want to expand but I also want to make her know me! I want her to be proud of me! This is the reason I'm working so hard... Do you understand me, Khushi?"
Speechless, she could no nothing else but nod. A small smile erupted on his face as he bent to kiss her cheek. His mother...
She tried to put herself in his shoes. What would she have done? With a sigh, she realised that she might not have been too different. It was the mother-child relationship, wasn't it? Where every mistake was forgiven selflessly? In the same way as a mother could love her child, however bad or good it might be, a son could equally forgive his mother for deserting him all these years...
She gave him a bright smile and squeezed his hand. She would do anything for him. Maybe her mother wouldn't be so bad. After all, her son, despite all his faults was endowed with a golden heart. they could not be very dissimilar. She would try to get along with her, for him.
"You don't think I'm crazy, do you?" he mumbled, tightening his grip on her hand.
She shook her head indulgently. "She'd your mother. Wanting to make your mother proud of you is not being crazy. So, when are we meeting her?"
Arnav glanced at his watch. "Well, she should be here in fifteen."
***
"Oh, please! I don't want all of this formality stuff, Arnav. Just call me Varsha," the woman waved dismissively at him.
Khushi had a hard time preventing her eyes to shoot wide open since Arnav's mother entered the restaurant. She was supposed to be, what? Late forties? Early fifties? Well, at least she was the mother of a twenty-nine year old man. But she did not look like one.
She could bet her life his mother got herself a Botox regularly. Her hair was dark blonde – bleached or dyed, that was sure – with lighter highlights. She looked more like a sexy bimbo in her halter neck top and denim shorts which reached her mid thighs. She looked so alien-like, Khushi almost dragged Arnav away to ask him whether he was sure this was really his mother.
The woman had looked at the two of them as though they were a heavy chore being dumped on her but most certainly, Arnav would have missed that. Wanna bet?
"Ahh..." Arnav fumbled helplessly for the words to introduce his mother and Khushi but he didn't really know how to continue when his own mother had actually, in a sense, forbidden him from calling her mother.
As if comprehending his dilemma, Khushi swooped in to help. "I'm Khushi, Arnav's girlfriend," she put her hand forward awkwardly.
Varsha eyed her hand coldly before touching it for the barest second with her fingertips. Would it be not-very-nice if Khushi decided Pavitraa was a much better and warmer mother, even if she was the step-mom? Okay, maybe Arnav wouldn't take that well...
***
"So, what do you think?" he asked as they got in a taxi to return to the apartment.
When she turned to him, he was grinning enthusiastically, like a boy who had just met Santa Claus. Deep inside, Khushi felt a stab. She felt sorry for him. She wasn't one to judge, but the feeling that Varsha would never give him the attention he wanted, needed was staggering. And she knew he would never accept that if she told him.
She smiled back at him tightly. "She's... nice," she lied.
He chuckled foolishly, giving her a sideways hug. "The two of you will get along really well."
Khushi could only hope she was wrong about Varsha.
***
"You're leaving?" she spat accusingly as he strode to the door.
Arnav turned to face her with a wince. "Sorry. There's this investor, he's really interested and-"
"But I just made tea! And I even opened the Gingernut Cookies, you love Gingernut Cookies!" Khushi objected.
He slumped his shoulders as he walked over to hug her. "I'm really sorry, but I need to go. This is really important!"
She set her jaws together firmly. "More than me?"
Arnav opened his mouth without any sound coming out, he looked away, groping deep inside his brains for an appropriate answer. "Khushi, this is not done!" he finally told her.
She stared at him blankly before getting herself out of his arms. He watched as she grabbed her tea and biscuits without another glance at him and settled in the plush armchair, putting the television on. Arnav sighed heavily and bent to kiss the cheek, which he missed because she moved away. He knew she was hurt but he really had to go. Arnav Singh Raizada could not miss out on opportunities.
"I'll come back soon okay," he whispered but she acted deaf to him.
***
"Mr Dhawan," he greeted the man as he took his seat. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."
Ram Dhawan smiled at the young man pleasantly. "No worries son. Was it the wife keeping you back?" he teased.
Arnav's eyes widened and coloured up slightly, neither of the reactions going unnoticed by Ram. "What? No-no-no!"
"Don't be shy, son! I've been through that too!"
Arnav smirked. "It's not the wife actually, it's the girlfriend!"
***
"Khushi!" he called out when he opened the door of the apartment. He had rung the doorbell for quite some time but no one had answered, so he had let himself in with his own set of keys. Either she was out, or she was still upset.
He stepped into the kitchen to see if she was there but he found the maid instead. "What the-? Polly? I've been at the door for so long! Why the hell didn't you answer?"
The girl shrugged. "Madam said not to open."
"Where is she?" he sighed, repressing the urge to swear out loud.
"Bedroom," Polly told him, about to resume cleaning the stove but Arnav interrupted her.
"You can go home for today."
The maid shrugged again and went off to take her things while Arnav made his way to her room. Khushi was sitting on the floor weeping uncontrollably as she took down a tub of mint ice-cream with chocolate chips. For a minute, he felt scared and guilty; was she crying because of him? He started towards her, on the brim of panic, when he realised her eyes were riveted on the screen before her.
He swallowed his 'what-the' to stare at her in disbelief before switching to the television. He knew that serial. She loved it and mooned over the guy like crazy. What was it again? Yeah, Ghost Whisperer. The episode with the kid who had died in an accident but his soul refused to go because his parents thought they were responsible for his death? He rolled his eyes. She always cried when she watched that and she had done it zillions of times.
Usually when she was sad, and with time, he had understood why she did it. He gulped guiltily. She did it to imagine how it would be like in Melinda Gordon's place because Mel's husband, Jim, loved her infinitely. He loved her so much that he had returned from death in the most surprising way and found her again to be with her...
Arnav sank down beside Khushi silently. He wished they could simply be Melinda and Jim, with a simpler life they had. Jim was a paramedic, that was how he had met Melinda – owner of an antique shop, and he had all the time of his life to spend with her. Except when he died but even then, he fought his way back to her didn't he? Things messed up sometimes, when the ghost thing got a little complicated but they did patch up in the end.
He wished he could give her that life. He wished he could give her that much time, love and understanding. He wished he could always be there for her. He wished he could be to her what Jim was to Mel. Hell, he wished he could give her that marriage he knew how much she wanted but denied because of him.
But he couldn't. Life was no serial or film. He still was not able to remove the memory of his parents' arguments they had when they thought he had gone to sleep. He still was not able to forget the pain he had been living in for the past several years even with Pavitraa there. He had only just started to heal and it was all because of Khushi...
He didn't want to make the mistakes his parents had made. He needed time to be sure. And he needed to work. He had the opportunity right now, he had to take full advantage of it right now. So that later, when he was finally able to accept the idea of getting married – which he knew was possible – and when he would marry her, then he would have all the leisure to spend as much time as he wanted with her, only her, and their kids of course.
He just had to make her understand that...
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