Joined: 01 December 2013
Arnav glanced up at his father as he walked into the room. He took the envelope from his hands, examining the postmark. He swiftly tore it open as Ashok left the room, scanning the letter quickly. His heart thudded in his chest, and he placed the letter down, leaning against his chair.
A slow, wide smile spread across his face, and he picked up a pen, taking a piece of paper and beginning to write.
Anjali stared at herself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. She looked down at the intricate mehendi that stained her hands, tracing over the A' hidden in the swirls fondly. Aman had found it easily, thoroughly amused by her annoyance that it had been so easy for him.
She looked up at the mirror again, her reflection staring back at her. Her face glowed with happiness that she felt throughout herself, unable to believe that she was really getting married.
To Aman, of all people.
She had never expected it to actually work out this way, a little bit of doubt in the back of her mind. She had worried that it would remain a fond memory of careless romance, and she would recall it years later as she spoke to her grandchildren about love.
But it hadn't turned out that way.
She was really getting married.
A wide, uninhibited smile stretched across her face, her heart bubbling over with happiness. She knew exactly what he would say, the look of mild amusement on his face. But the crinkle at the corner of his eyes would give away how happy he was to see her happy.
It was something she had never thought she would find.
She had been told at her mehendi by the other women that it was her responsibility to compromise. It was on the woman to change, to keep her husband happy, they had said, with a wink.
And she had taken it with a smile, nodding at all the right times.
But she knew it wasn't that way with her and Aman. Aman would compromise just as much as she would, and it was one of the things she loved most about him.
It was so rare to find someone like him.
She was so lucky.
The thought brought a smile to her face, and she twisted the ring on her finger, staring at it with a new wonder.
"Anju? Are you ready?"
Khushi peeked around the door, sweeping her gaze over Anjali appreciatively. She could see the radiant happiness in her face, the shy smile underlied by a glow.
Anjali had always been a happy person, but Khushi had never seen her this happy.
She silently thanked Aman for being so good to her best friend. She knew they would work well together, and she couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he finally saw Anju.
Anjali shifted, shrugging her shoulders in a question.
"You look beautiful, Anju. I can't wait to see the look on my new Bhai's face."
Khushi winked conspiratorially, reaching out to put kajal behind Anjali's ear.
"I can't wait to see the look on Bhai's face when he sees you."
Anjali grinned as Khushi flushed, looking away quickly. She had thoroughly enjoyed teasing Khushi about the obvious affection her brother showered on her. Khushi looked gorgeous in her lehenga, her hair left loose around her shoulders.
Anjali smiled wickedly inside, taking glee in the fact that her brother would be completely speechless tonight.
Khushi ignored Anjali's comment skillfully, save for the blush, walking up to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
"You're getting married! I can't believe it. Who am I going to annoy when I'm bored?"
"You have Bhai, don't you?"
Khushi's cheeks darkened further, and she cleared her throat uncomfortably. She could tell the resemblance between Anjali and her brother with Anjali's mischievous smirk, her eyes glinting with amusement at Khushi's embarrassment.
"Who knows, maybe I'll be attending another shaa-"
"Isn't it time for you to go downstairs?"
Anjali laughed, pulling Khushi into a tight hug. The girls stood there for a long while, and Anjali heard a vague sniffle from Khushi. She leaned back to see the sheen of tears in Khushi's eyes, the tip of her nose slightly red.
"Arey! I'm going to be down the road. You can come bother me whenever you want."
Anjali felt her own throat clog with tears as she hoarsely admonished Khushi for crying, reaching out to wipe the tears away.
Khushi was special to her. Anjali had felt the loss of Arnav deeply when he had moved, but Khushi's presence had soothed that ache. They had grown close in the last five years, and Anjali knew she would miss Khushi dearly.
"I know. I'll just miss you."
Anjali squeezed her hand reassuringly, a watery smile on her face.
"Chalo, let's go downstairs. We wouldn't want to keep your lover waiting."
Arnav glanced up at the staircase, a fond smile curving his lips as he watched Anju gingerly step down, carefully lifting her lehenga. He could see Aman out of the corner of his eyes, frozen in place as his mouth parted in amazement.
Aman's breath had almost stopped, his eyes following Anjali, drinking her in like a parched man. Aman took a deep, shuddering breath, as if he couldn't believe that it was real. His eyes didn't leave Anju even once, his face lighting up.
Aman looked like he felt like the luckiest man in the world.
Arnav shook his head, amused by the way Aman had been rendered completely speechless at the sight of his bride.
Men in lo...
He lost his train of thought when his eyes fell on the girl helping Anjali lift the heavy lehenga, unable to tear his eyes away.
Her hair fell in loose curls all the way down to her waist, the simple tikka sparkling underneath the light. Her arms were lined with bangles all the way up to her elbows, and he could make out the distinctive tinkling of her payals despite the noise behind him.
His eyes slid down to her barely parted lips, his eyes sliding down the column of her neck to the edge of her blouse. The royal blue skirt swished around her legs, her other hand holding it up carefully as she stepped down the staircase. He forced his gaze away from the expanse of creamy skin at her waist, the slip of silver glinting at him from below.
Sensing his eyes on her, she lifted her gaze, her mouth parting in a soft gasp at the sight. He hadn't bothered to mask the blatant desire mixed with admiration, his eyes dark with an emotion that made her entire body feel as if it were on fire, her heart pounding in her chest.
She swept her gaze over him appreciatively, stunned by her own reaction to him.
Her eyes widened at the sight of the midnight blue sherwani, the outfit she had argued with him for days over. It hugged his toned biceps, emphasizing his broad shoulders. The shadows highlighted the sharp angles of his jaw, lined with the barest hint of stubble that had appeared over the day.
She swallowed thickly, knowing that her eyes reflected the same emotions his did. She barely noticed herself walking Anjali to the mandap, only aware of him.
She stepped back as Anjali sat down by Aman, a shy blush on her face. She felt her throat tighten at the sight of them, the love between them evident as Anjali placed her hand in Aman's.
She was almost jealous of Anjali, of the love evident in Aman's eyes. He couldn't take his eyes off of his bride, staring at her in wonder. Their voices blended together as they repeated after the priest, their shared glances reflecting the earnestness.
Her eyes searched him out, only to be taken aback by the expression in his eyes.
She had known Arnav's gaze was fixed on her, since she had felt it.
But she hadn't expected his eyes to be so honest.
His eyes held a single question, silently forcing her to confront the answer.
Did she want this with him?
She didn't have to think about it, the answer almost immediate.
She wanted to be there with him, her hands underneath his, their voices melding together as they made promises.
She saw the understanding in his eyes as their gazes held. Her eyes widened as he left his place on the opposite side of the room, coming closer to her in long strides.
She felt his presence come to stand by her immediately, his eyes focused straight ahead. She could feel the heat from his body, his arm a hair's breadth away from hers. Her toes curled against the cool tile, the memory of his hands against her waist making her long for it once more.
She should have been paying attention to Anju's wedding. She had to focus, focus on-
She abruptly broke off when she felt him shift impossibly closer, his eyes still focused on the wedding in front of him. She could see the faint smirk playing on his lips, belying the fond smile he saved for Anju.
Arnav struggled to maintain control of himself, trying helplessly to focus on his sister's wedding.
But with her standing so close to him, her lavender perfume sweeping into his nostrils and making him dizzy, it was nearly impossible. He longed to drag her away, to kiss her again and again until her lips were swollen and tingling from him.
The shining silver chain teased him, tempting him to snap it off with his fingers, dropping it to the ground with her lehenga pooled on the floor at her feet. He wanted to hear her gasp his name, her voice hoarse with pleasure and need.
He wanted to lean over her, to see every emotion mirrored in her eyes. The amazement, the desire, and the love swirling together, her eyes only focused on him.
The memory of her tenative touch against his cheek, her fingers clutching at his lapels in the garden, the feel of her curves pressed against him made the blood rush south, and Arnav shifted uncomfortably to alleviate the rapidly increasing tension.
She was so innocent. He couldn't think of her like this. He had to control himself, at least until they were married-
Arnav glanced at her, his eyes lingering fondly over the slight curve of her nose, the bow of her lips. All of a sudden, memories overwhelmed his brain.
The way she laughed noiselessly, unable to control the giggles that spilled from her lips at the sight of him failing to eat the pani puri.
The flare of anger in her eyes when he challenged her, her caustic bluntness underscored by impossible politeness.
The vulnerability as they sat up on the terrace, the way her voice quavered when she spoke of her beloved parents. The need to pull her into his arms right then, hating the fact that she was upset.
The way he had opened up to her, shown her the gardens that had made him fall in love with gardening. The way he had to show her what he loved about India, wanting her to see that...
Why had he done that?
Did he want to marry her?
He didn't really mull over it, the answer simply appearing in his brain without a thought.
The naturalness of his answer surprised him, and a wide smile graced his face as he realized the truth behind it. He felt a sharp nudge in his stomach, and looked to his right to see his mother glaring at him, subtly nodding him towards Anjali.
He leaned forward, placing a handful of the puffed rice into Aman and Anjali's entwined hands. He squeezed Anjali's hands lightly, smiling down at his little sister as his heart tightened.
He stepped back, watching as they took the pheres. He heard a faint sniffle from his left, and looked down to see Khushi hastily wiping away tears.
He felt the tears prick at the backs of his eyes, realizing that in a few hours, his sister would leave for her husband's home.
She bent down in front of him, and Arnav slipped his arms around her in a rare hug. They parted awkwardly, and Arnav gave her a half smile.
"Take care of her, Aman."
His voice was gruffer than he had expected. Aman nodded, giving his hand a firm shake. He stepped back, allowing his mother forward. He took in a deep breath, slipping behind his family.
To his surprise, he felt a warm, small hand slip into his, reassuring him silently. It was gone just as quickly, and he looked down to see Khushi standing next to him, looking straight ahead, tears staining her own cheeks.
His father stood behind his mother, watching as Sakshi sobbed, listing off various suggestions as she hugged Anjali tightly. Arnav could see the nostalgia in his father's face, the feeling of losing his beloved daughter mixed with the delight that she would be happy.
Ashok reached forward, gently pulling Sakshi away from her daughter. His mother turned her head, buried it into Ashok's chest as the tears stained his kurta.
Arnav watched his parents look after their daughter, a bittersweet moment. His father held his mother in a firm but gentle grip, cradling her as she wiped the tears away.
His mother tilted her head up to his father, her eyes searching the contours of his face. He saw the corners of their mouths curve up in small smiles, their gazes locking together in a moment of shared love.
He could see the memories flit across their faces, the warmth crackling between them as his mother leaned back against his father's chest, curling into him in a rare show of affection.
"They'll be okay, right?"
He heard his mom's soft query, a watery smile on her face. Ashok nodded, squeezing her shoulder gently.
"Just like we are now."
Arnav heard his father murmur, his voice intended for the woman in front of him. Arnav quickly looked away, unnerved by the raw emotion in his father's voice. He heard Khushi's quiet gasp, realizing that she had heard it too.
It wasn't something they saw often, and it wasn't a moment they were intended to see.
Arnav felt as if he was intruding on an intimate moment between his parents, his stomach tightening. He stole a glance at Khushi, who was looking at his parents with an almost wistful expression, a shadow of a smile on her face.
For a moment, Arnav glimpsed what he could have with her.
He wished he could touch her, hold her tight.
Feeling his eyes on her, she tore her gaze away from his parents, looking up at him.
For once, he didn't hide anything, letting her see exactly how he was feeling.
He wanted Khushi to see what he was going through.
It had been a day filled with celebrations of new beginnings and old endings. His baby sister had gotten married, and was suddenly grown up.
He had seen a moment between his parents, a moment he suddenly had an unexpected yearning for. It was a moment of deep, lingering love that he found himself craving, craving with... her.
The intensity of the feeling surprised him, wanting the intimacy, the shared moments of creating a life together. She was standing so close to him, but he felt like she was on the other side of the room.
He heard the soft oh' from Khushi as she realized, the rest of the world fading out. They stood there for what seemed like forever, coming to terms with this new realization, trying to understand it.
She pulled herself away from him, responding to his mother's call.
He felt her loss more deeply than he ever had before as he watched her walk away, wanting nothing more than to follow her.
Arnav felt the painful tug in his heart as he turned off the light, the house seemingly empty without Anjali around. He hadn't realized how much his sister was a part of his life until she had left, leaving him searching for something to fill the gap.
He glanced around, looking for Khushi, and didn't find her.
She must be up on the terrace.
The house was quiet, and he tiptoed into the kitchen, setting a pot of milk on the stove to boil. He grabbed the sugar, placing one... two... spoons exactly of sugar into the pot, adding a pinch more.
He hadn't even realized that he knew exactly how much sugar she took in her chai, the color that it should be. He had just come to know, and the fact was now in his mind, reminding him subtly of her place in his life.
He placed a few jalebis on a plate, ones leftover from the wedding, and strained the chai, taking the steps two by two as he walked up to the terrace.
He glanced around, realizing that she wasn't there.
His stomach dropped, making him confront a feeling he didn't even know was there. He hadn't realized how much he needed her until he couldn't find her, how he wanted her to soothe the absence of his younger sister.
He walked slowly back down the stairs, wondering where she was, until his eyes caught on the woman sitting by the pool, her lehenga hiked up to her knees.
For the second time that night, he was rendered speechless.
The faint glow of the moonlight illuminated her face, her head tilted up towards the stars as she leaned back on her palms. Her feet dangled in the clear water, the wind blowing her thick hair back.
His eyes traced over her figure, memorizing every curve, every point in her body. The image of her was etched in his brain, making his heart quicken as he stood there, simply watching her through the glass.
He stood there for minutes, or hours, he couldn't really tell, just taking her in.
He couldn't have walked away even if he had wanted to.
She turned around at the feel of his gaze on her, her eyes widening in surprise. She tilted her head, silently asking him to join her. Gently pushing open the door, he walked out, handing her the steel tumbler, taking the other one for himself as he rolled his pants up, dangling his feet in the water alongside hers.
She looked down at the chai for a long moment, the steam swirling up around her face. Her eyes met his in question, but he didn't respond, his expression carefully guarded.
Tentatively, she took a sip, her tongue darting out to catch stray droplets. She had to consciously keep her mouth from falling open in shock at the taste, her eyes scanning his profile in something akin to wonder. He kept his gaze focused straight ahead, refusing to meet her eyes.
If he looked at her now, she would know everything.
And he wasn't sure if he was ready to confront that just yet.
Khushi slowly turned her head away, realizing that he was not ready to speak. Her mind drifted to the ceremonies from earlier, her heart oddly heavy despite the happiness of the occasion.
It had started to sink in that Anjali was no longer just theirs anymore. She had a family, a life that didn't feature them as strongly as before. Khushi was happy for her, but she couldn't help the twist in her stomach when she realized that Anjali would no longer slip into her room late at night simply to chat.
The image of Anjali, her hand quietly slipping into Aman's as the priest chanted, flashed in front of Khushi's eyes. There was the meeting of their eyes, the secretive smiles that they had shared for just that moment, before their gazes had shifted back to the fire.
Khushi closed her eyes, a sharp pang of envy shooting through her. They were so in tune with each other, building each other up. Anjali had the same dreams as Aman, the same love for her country and passion for service. They were such a well paired couple, complimenting each other perfectly.
She wished she could have that. Falling in love with someone who thought the same way as her, wanted the same things as her... someone like NK.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to conjure up an image of her and NK. It was the correct picture, the one that she should have wanted.
But all she could picture was the dark, caramel eyes staring at her from across the room, sending her heart racing. She couldn't remember the way NK would listen to her, only the way Arnav would argue with her until they were hoarse, the way debating with him brought a rush of adrenaline.
She couldn't remember how NK would bring a box of every sweet possible to the meetings because he knew she loved sweets, only the way Arnav would take the time to bring her back jalebis because he knew they were her favorite.
She cursed herself mentally, berating herself for craving something that would never work.
Arnav sensed the melancholy of the woman beside him, and he watched her through the corner of his eye, wishing he could take it all away. He had seen the wistful yearning in her eyes as she had watched the wedding, knowing that she craved what Anjali had.
He worried that he couldn't give her the same.
What if he hurt her?
Their love was fueled by passion, but passion alone wasn't enough to sustain a relationship. Anjali and Aman had shared values, a common love for the same things.
What did he and Khushi have?
He knew he should let her go. It would be easier for the two of them if they ended it now, accepting that they were simply too different to ever have the love that Anjali and Aman had.
But he was selfish.
He couldn't let her go. He wanted to give her everything. Seeing her so resigned to the fact that she would never have what Anjali did made his stomach twist. He felt the uncomfortable clawing in his stomach that he was keeping her from that sort of love, the kind that she deserved.
He hadn't realized when her happiness had become so essential to his.
His hand slid over hers, relishing the familiar warmth. She looked up at him through thick lashes, her eyes brimming with a myriad of emotions, the reflection of the moon shining at the edges of the hazel orbs.
He placed his fingers underneath her chin, noticing the way her skin shivered at his warm touch. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers in a soft, closed mouthed kiss, one that made her toes curl against his in the water. His fingers rested gently on her chin, tilting it up as he nibbled lightly on her lower lip, drawing a quiet moan as he poured what he couldn't say in words into his kiss.
I'm sorry. I wish I could give you more.
They broke apart, gasping for air as their lips just barely touched, the heat of their breath mingling together. The tenderness of the kiss had drugged her, the depth of the emotion he had revealed stunning her.
His thumb ghosted across her cheek, moving down to hover above her lips. She turned her head, pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb, her tongue brushing against the ridges on his finger. When she turned her gaze up to his, his eyes were almost black, his jaw taut with the struggle for control.
In one, swift move, he cupped her face, taking her lips in a deep kiss. She gasped in surprise, the intensity of his kiss making her knees weak as he pulled her flush against him. His tongue stroked hers languidly, a complete contrast to the maelstrom of emotions coursing through her.
Khushi felt muddled, her nerve endings on fire as he deepened the kiss further, his hand tracing patterns on the bare skin at her waist. Her blood pounded in her head, her stomach swooping as she clutched at his white kurta, crushing and wrinkling the cotton.
She was sure she would fall into the pool, the cool water against her legs failing to tame the flames burning within, the desire spiraling rapidly. His hand was the only thing holding her up, keeping her from sliding into the water.
NK was the one Ma and Papa wanted her to marry, expected her to marry, not Arnav.
She felt a rush of frustration at being unable to resist temptation, and shoved him away, breathing heavily. She felt the sheen of tears coating her eyes, and she looked away, infuriated with herself.
Why did she keep going back to him when she knew it would end in heartbreak?
Arnav watched her, feeling a fist close around his heart at her anguish. He could see that she was torn, frustrated with herself for wanting more. He understood, her emotions a reflection of his own.
He wished he could have given her up, he wished he could make this easier for her.
Khushi fought with herself, determined to stay away. Her mind betrayed her, replacing NK with Arnav as she fruitlessly tried to distance herself from the man who was just inches away. She struggled, wanting his touch more desperately than ever, needing him to soothe the ache.
She needed him.
She growled in frustration before pulling him down to herself harshly, their teeth clashing together as she kissed him with fervor. She allowed him to feel every strand of her frustration, biting at his lips, thrusting her tongue against his.
He responded equally, giving in. Control slipped like sand through the gaps between fingers, the grains getting through no matter how tight they tried to squeeze them together.
His hands reached for the dupatta, fumbling with the pin as he trailed feathery kisses down her jaw, drawing a low moan of pleasure from the back of her throat. She pulled his earlobe between her teeth, marking the soft skin as her hands caressed the rough stubble on his face.
She suddenly felt the wash of cool air hit her bared stomach, and stiffened, pulling away. Arnav clutched the fabric of her dupatta in his hands, his eyes widening with the realization of what he had been about to do. She took the cloth from his hands, hating the guilt written over his face, hating himself for pushing it too far.
He dragged his gaze back up to hers, and she shook her head, moving away from him as they stood up.
"Hum... aise... humne sh-"
She broke off, her eyes wary as she looked at him nervously. She didn't know how he would react to the word, the idea of marriage and comittment.
"We're not married yet, and so we can't... I know. I... I should have stopped myself earlier, I'm sorry."
She didn't like the guilt in his stance, the way his shoulders slumped slightly. She could practically hear him berating himself mentally for losing control, for allowing it to come this far.
She reached out, placing her hand within his. He looked up at her, a silent apology in his eyes.
"Aise mat kehna. We both..."
She trailed off, unable to express that she had wanted it as much as he had. She saw the relief wash over his face as he stood up, pulling her up with him. He glanced down at her bare shoulder and then quickly looked away, turning around so she could adjust her clothing.
"We should... go sleep."
"Haan, we should."
Her gaze fell on the still full cups of chai, the half eaten jalebi that had been abandoned in their fit of desire.
"Woh... chai, I'm sorry, I just..."
A smirk quirked up the edge of his lips, and he shook his head.
They paused, staring at each other. The seconds ticked by slowly, neither of them wanting to leave.
Finally, he sighed heavily, forcing himself to take a step back.
His voice was husky as he murmured in her ear, turning around and walking slowly out of the poolside. He glanced at her once more through the window, his eyes following the gentle swish of her lehenga.
Her lashes swept up to look directly at him, smiling back shyly through the glass. As he watched her turn and disappear, his mind drifted to Anju's wedding earlier.
But it wasn't the wedding that his mind slipped to.
All he could think about was Khushi, the wistful expression on her face as she had watched the ceremony. She had looked at him with such longing, the answer clear in her eyes.
He wanted it too.
And that was the most surprising thing. He had never been someone who believed in the rituals, the hungama and craziness that accompanied a wedding.
He had thought they were just for show, with all the other aunties fawning over the bride's clothes, complaining about the quality of the food... it had always been just an excuse to throw a party.
But after seeing his sister get married, the vows held a different meaning. The earnestness between Anju and Aman, the way their eyes hadn't left each other throughout the ceremony, the sheer joy in their faces...
Made him want to have that too, with Khushi.
Was it possible?
Note: And that's where I'll leave you for today! I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know what you think through a like or a comment, if you have the time. Next update will be Friday, and I'll post a teaser sometime between then.
As always, please follow @ipkchotidesi or PM me your email for update notifications.
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Such a beautiful portrayal of a parent's feelings of loss blended with happiness. You've captured the moment so tenderly Choti. All their hopes for their daughter's future being realised. The daughter who's brimming with joy. Her life partner is truly just that - a partner.
Kuch nahin kaha, phir bhi kitna kuch keh diya - the silent message of support Khushi offers, the tumultuous exhilaration Arnav feels as the sanctity of the ceremony draws out emotions in him for Khushi.
A truly moving update about what marriage is - for one who's starting the journey, for one who's traversed it's path, for one who's desirous of treading the track.
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Arhi os:Khushi's chalenge to Arnav for arhi sangeet
Author: Hina69 Replies: 94 Views: 52200
|Hina69||94||52200||13 October 2016 at 2:18am by arnavmaan|
Arhi os:HILARIOUS CONVO BETWEEN ARHI.
Author: Hina69 Replies: 94 Views: 60304
|Hina69||94||60304||24 September 2016 at 5:29am by NPKN|
3 | ArHi FF: Resistance | COMPLETE | PAGE 74 | UPDATED 2/6
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