Limerence (n) : A state of mind which results from a romantic attraction to another person typically including compulsive fantasies and a desire to form a relationship and have one's feelings reciprocated.
What happens when two people with distinct backgrounds, and a singular opinion on love... meet? Their past has crafted them into people they never wanted to be. Losing themselves into this complex world, trying to ally loneliness and silence... they are thrown into each other's paths that will only lead them to happiness. Or will it?
Limerence is a story about two people, accidentally falling in love and fulfilling dreams that never existed in the realms of their imagination. Hope this Arnav and Khushi can ignite the little spark within you, which is needed in everyone's life.
Limerence : Part 1
The pelting rain, the stormy wind and the endless Delhi traffic, only added to Khushi's woes. She brushed away the traitorous tear that had precariously run down her cheek. She hated to cry... something that she had grown up despising, considering the life she had lived. The cool nip in the air made her shiver. Her partially wet clothes, the dripping dupatta, only added to the despair. However, her mind was far away from this physicality of life.
"Oye chamiya... zara idhar bhi toh dekho!!"
"Such a beauty and such arrogance. It would be interesting to tame this lioness."
Angry tears pricked her eyes as the snide comments reverberated in her ears. It wasn't the first time and would definitely not be the last. After shifting from Lucknow to Delhi, there was an illusion in her mind that things would get better. However, her beliefs had been shattered yet again, when their neighbourhood was abuzz with gossip about her existence. It had taken all of her courage to face the offensive stares and the malicious comments, and walk on the streets of Laxmi Nagar... their officially new neighbourhood.
Her belief in kindness and compassion existed, only because of a few people like Kamla chachi, Sharma uncle and Lucky the mechanic. These were their saviors in the troubling times of moving from their home in Lucknow to Delhi. At the fragile age of eight she had made this move along with her mother, sick and tired of the never-ending taunts back home. With a little help from her distant mama, her mother had managed to rent a small house in Laxmi Nagar and then with the help of Sharmaji, had managed to get a job as a tailor in a small shop in the same locality.
Being exposed to the innumerous colourful threads, fabrics and a million varied stitching styles, Khushi had learned quickly from her mother... assisting her when time permitted. Her mama funded her schooling and college, as she made sure to focus her energies on the task at hand, instead of looking at all the disparities in her life. Realizing how important money was for them, she had taken up a part-time job at a small design studio while studying in college and mastered the art of various hand-done embroideries like, chickankari, phulkari, kantha, sheesha, zardosi and kashmiri.
The auto abruptly braked in front of a tall glass building, as Khushi was brought out of her reverie. The tall glass structure of AR Deisgns, stood proudly in front of her. The heavy downpour could not deter even an inch of its solidarity and majestic aura. Khushi sighed, as she paid the autowala and rushed inside the building. Swiping her access card at the entrance, she quickly made her way to one of the service elevators, eyeing the special elevator, reserved for the owner and his special guests.
She had always seen a huge number of models, celebrities and extremely high-profile people loitering around it. That lift was banned for the regular staff, who worked from the first floor to the eleventh floor. The twelfth and thirteenth were exclusively reserved for the owners of AR Designs. Being one of those, who worked at the bottom of the ladder, Khushi did not care of how huge and popular AR Designs really was. For her, all that mattered was that it paid well and if things worked out, they could easily move out of Laxmi Nagar in a few years.
She placed her bag on her workstation and looked around. A lot of designers were already at work, busy with their never-ending list of jobs. One thing that made this place ideal for Khushi to work in, was that she never got time to even breathe during the working hours. From nine to seven in the evening, it was only exquisite colourful fabrics, millions of soft threads binding together as one and her.
She could forget the huge burden on her dainty shoulders, she could forget her scarred past... infact her entire existence which seemed to be like a curse most of the times. Even if she would momentarily forget about her reality... beyond the walls of this building, there would be someone or the other, ready to bring her crashing down to reality. Outside this glass building, she felt wounded and shattered.
However, amidst these sturdy walls, she was someone to be respected, to be admired. People loved her work and also her working ethics. At a place she least expected to be put on a pedestal, considering the number of talented employees and the amazing work that happened here, she had been valued like never before. Six months working in ARD, had transformed her. Her silences had been admonished, making her open up to the people around. Her sorrow had been drowned with the constant chatter and discussion of the fashion world.
For the first time in 22 years of her life, she felt alive and breathing. Her broken heart had been gathering its fragments, slowly and steadily joining them to be whole again. She was the extremely talented KKG in this office and everyone respected the craftsmanship in the various embroideries she mastered in. The exquisite lehengas, sarees and gowns she worked on, were the talk of the fashion world. Even though she only followed orders, her suggestions were always welcomed... unlike in the outside world.
"Good morning KKG. Again lost in your dream world? Where do you keep zoning to, girl? Are you like dreaming of a prince charming like me?" The loud and warm voice of NK, brought an involuntarily smile on her face. "Prince charming's don't exist Nanheji. It's a myth. I was just thinking about the peach saree I was working on yesterday... I think we could add a lovely creeper on one end of the pallu. I know its not in the design, but I feel the saree looks incomplete," she voiced her opinion like always.
"Hmmm. Let me see what I can do KKG. Neena is popular for not modifying her designs, but in any case let me speak to her. And by the way, ASR was absolutely blown away by the gown that we worked on last week. He has decided to make it the showstopper for the next western fashion show. Riya is so thrilled that her design is now going to be popular... but I know KKG, it was all your idea," NK said, with admiration gleaming in his eyes.
"Oh no... it was Riya's design. I was merely following her orders. I only modified it a bit here and there, without her noticing it," she teased, making NK laugh out loud. As far as Khushi knew, Nandkishore Mittal was the owner's cousin and even though being a stakeholder in the company, he preferred to be working down the order, along with the people of this company. He was in charge of the textile department of ARD, that looked into fabrics and embroideries. His enthusiasm was infections and since the time he had hired Khushi, he had been a fan of her work... praising her relentlessly, slowly and steadily boosting her self-confidence and belief in self-worth.
Noticing the serious look on Khushi's face, NK shook her shoulder and teased, "Get to work KKG, we have a huge task ahead of us this week. I don't want my favourite employee to zone out like this. And by the way, in your drawer, is lying your confirmation letter and a small, tiny raise. I hope you are happy with it. If you find anything that is bothering you... come straight to me. Don't bother with the HR because on this floor, I take all the calls, like you know." He winked at her and walked away to the next table, briefing the others for the various tasks at hand.
Khushi pulled open the drawer with shaking hands, as she swiftly tore open the envelope. The words on the letter brought tears to her eyes. Someone in this world, finally realized her worth... they appreciated her... needed her and also acted on their opinion, by giving her a huge monetary raise. She quickly wiped away the few tears that threatened to roll down her flushed cheeks. Smiling to herself, she sat down to work, completely missing the caring glance NK sent her way.
While at work, Khushi was the most dedicated, most focused person to work with. She would lose track of time, skip lunches and ignore the buzzing world around her. Despite being an introvert, she had warmed the hearts of quite a few people at work. Even though their friendship was strictly professional, Neha and Shreya, would make sure to drag Khushi to the canteen at exact lunch time. While the two girls ate the delicious canteen food, Khushi would promptly remove her small tiffin and eat from it silently. Today was one of those rare days, when Khushi had managed to go up to the canteen alone, as both her friends were occupied with work.
She sat at a corner table, silently eating alone, when a group of giggling girls stormed inside the canteen. From what she had observed in the last six months, they seemed to be ARD's top models, who frequented the office for fittings and photo-shoots. One of them was the popular model Lavanya, who she had recently got to work with. She was extremely stunning; thin, tall, flawless dusky skin, big brown eyes and perfect face-cut. She had heard quite a few men at work, ogling at the long-legged lass, while the girls could not stop raving about her dressing style, her make-up and the way she carried herself.
Khushi saw her gliding near a closeby table, while the entire canteen seemed to have come alive with their attention focused on her. The servers flocked her with her favourite meal and made sure she was comfortably attended to... after all it was rumored that she was dating the owner of ARD... the very popular, handsome and acute businessman... the great Arnav Singh Raizada.
Khushi swallowed a morsel of her roti sabzi, while enjoying the entire circus that was happening around these models. They seemed to be like a honeycomb, attracting the senseless bees towards them. It was a hilarious sight, and it took all of Khushi's control to not laugh out loud. She sighed in resignation, about how life was so unfair. Lavanya Kashyap had it all going for her. She was rich, famous, popular, loved by all and did not have to face the harsh realities of life.
Shutting her lunch box, Khushi silently tiptoed out of the buzzing canteen. No on noticed her and who would even care about her existence, when there were hundreds of extremely gorgeous women, fluttering around in this fashion house! Going back to her desk, she immersed herself in work... the only thing that gave her peace and some kind of happiness. It was the only thing that made her feel proud, an achievement of sorts, considering her low self-esteem.
The day had seemed to be never-ending, with a huge pile of work on her desk. ARD planned and prepared for the wedding season, when the monsoons began. They were not only into haute couture; they had diversified into retail outlets for the common woman's needs. Khushi had been struggling to come up with patterns and designs for their collection, which would be then replicated by junior artists. NK had given her a huge responsibility even though she was fairly new to this organization, and she would make sure to live up to his expectations.
It was almost eight in the night, when she took an auto towards Laxmi Nagar. She hated the Delhi public transport and the prying eyes of the men around, did not help her frazzled nerves either. It was only because of Luckyji, that she had managed to get the phone numbers of a few auto drivers he knew. Whenever, she would get late at work, she would make sure to call one of them, instead of taking some random auto. NK had offered to drop her a number of times, but she had hesitated, considering what people of her neighbourhood would think. She and her mother already were facing too many problems and there was no chance she would add to their woes.
As the auto stopped near a local grocery store, Khushi hopped off and rushed inside to buy the list of items her mother had requested to get while coming home. The fatigue of the day was catching up, as she fidgeted around, while the baniya filled up a bag with the required items. It was only when she had left the shop that she heard the vile words... "Seems like someone is working late. Kya baat hai?? Aisa bhi kya kaam jismein itni der lag jaye? Come with me darling, I will teach you how to get things done quickly."
Khushi turned around to glare at a couple of local boys, who would tease and taunt her regularly. She tried to walk past them, when one of the boys blocked her from moving forward. "Itni bhi kya jaldi? We all know what you and your mother are famous for... so stop pretending to be so innocent and just give us also a chance to please you." Unshed tears pricked Khushi's eyes, as she controlled her fury. Her whole body was shaking in anger and if she didn't know these thugs and their contacts better, she would have kicked them where it hurt the most.
Their nasty words resonated in her ears, the reality of her existence crashing hard onto her. Why was it not possible, for people to forget the past and move on? She and her mother had been working so hard for the last few years, trying to wipe away the tainted scar her father had left on their fate. Her mother had loved him... and all he had done was use and throw her away like an innate object. She knew her mother had shouldered a huge burden on her shoulders all these years... yet in situations like these... Khushi simply wished to have been killed inside the womb of an unmarried mother, who had no chance of living carefreely in this society.
"Khushiji... itna gussa sehat ke liye accha nahi hota," a boy slurred, clearly having had too much of alcohol. Even before Khushi could open her mouth to respond to his snide remark, the boy toppled in pain, when a hard blow struck on his face. Khushi whirled around to see the bloodshot eyes of Shyam Manohar Jha, the famous goon of Laxminagar. She cringed at even thinking of him as a savior for the tiniest of seconds. "Kitni baar kaha hai chotu, she is your bhabhiji. Do not dare to call her, otherwise from your filthy mouth," Shyam snarled.
Diverting his attention from the wailing boy, he turned towards Khushi and tried to hold her by the shoulder. She cringed and took a couple of steps backward, putting as much distance as she could manage between herself and the lecherous man. "I am so sorry Khushiji. These boys I tell you. I will make sure hence forth they talk to you with utmost respect and call you bhabhiji." Khushi flinched at the meaning behind his words, as he sneered at her. Knowing that there was no point talking to this menace, she turned around and almost sprinted towards her home... running, tripping, controlling the urge to scream... to cry... to vent out... and give up!
She burst through the doors of their small home, rushing towards the bedroom. Garima saw her daughter hurry inside the house in fury and rushed behind her. Something was once again wrong. Had anyone again taunted her? Had anyone tried to misbehave? She cursed herself yet again, to have failed to protect her beloved daughter from this vile world. Why could they not let them be? When would their suffering end? Was her one mistake going to cost them two lives... hers and Khushi's?
As Garima reached a sobbing Khushi, who had curled up on the floor, she rushed forward gathering her in her arms. She knew it was not often that Khushi would break down like this. Her daughter was strong, fighting the world for herself and for her mother. The young girl did not break easily against the onslaught of fate. However, the strong facade would crack every now and then, making Garima realize how vulnerable Khushi really was.
"Why amma.. why us? Why my? Why did you give birth to me amma? You should have just aborted me all those years ago. It is better to die than to live this life full of struggle and miseries and so many insults. I am sick of fighting back... I am tired of being strong. Sometimes I just feel like giving up," Khushi broke down into the warmth of her mother's arms... the only place she didn't have to pretend, the only place that gave her a solace... a place that made her feel home.
Garima controlled her tears and replied in a quivering voice, "Shhh beta, aise nahi kehte. It is only because of you... only for you that I am alive beta. What would I have done if I didn't have you?" Khushi looked up at her mother and wiped away the two traitorous tears that had rolled down her mother's wrinkled cheeks. She knew her words had hurt her mother, yet there was no hiding her emotions at times like these.
"I am sorry amma. I did not mean it in that way. I am sorry. I love you. It is just that I am sick of being judged by people around. No one gave me a chance to even prove my worth and they have already tainted my identity. I don't know what to do amma!" Khushi cried, trying to get a control over her sobs. "Everything will be okay beta. I am sure Devi Maiyya has something special in store for you. Our sufferings will be over someday and then all that will remain will be happiness and laughter. You are my strong baccha, aren't you? Now stop crying and freshen up. I have made your favourite aalu puri. Come eat and then we can discuss your day at work."
Garima's soothing words had a relaxing effect on Khushi. She knew her mother's never-die attitude is all they had got. It was the only thing, which pulled them through their sorrows and let them enjoy whatever little goodness, life had to offer them. Wiping away her tears, Khushi quickly had a shower and rushed to eat her favourite food. After a cheery celebration for Khushi's confirmation letter and the raise she had got today, Khushi snuggled into her bed... exhausted by the emotionally draining day. She failed to see a broken Garima, silently crying on the kitchen floor... praying with all her heart, for a miracle that would change the course of their life.
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