Joined: 30 January 2006
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Joined: 31 March 2011
love arhi scene...its amazing...
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Joined: 25 October 2011
A long one this time- and a warning. I haven't read over this. My campaign for internet has flopped as it appears to be a regional problem and something about broken underwater cables, so only when they get round to fixing that will I be more regular. Till then, I have been advised by someone (you know yourself) to post whatever I've got whenever I get stable connection, so that's what I'll try to do from now on. So there will probably some really long and some really short chapters coz I'll post whenever I get the chance. it's messed up, I know, but I'll try to fix it somehow :s
This chapter is dedicated to Alvi, on whose advice I'm posting this update. So if you don't like it, blame her! (just kidding :p)
Chapter Thirty Four
Payal could see that Di had caught on to the covert intentions behind her innocent suggestion in one instant.
For one thing, her sparkling liquid eyes flashed in a direction where Payal knew, without having to turn around, Khushi had grown suddenly very still, very rigid, frozen in the act of polishing off some of her favourite halwa, seated right beside her. A toothy smile began to bud not-so-discreetly across her sister-in-law's face, errant in its mischief, before the eyes, alive suddenly with tiny flecks of impish light, shifted their examination to another figure Payal could glimpse from the corner of her eye, seated directly in front of Khushi.
A figure which, encased in thoroughly uncharacteristic indolence, a study in relaxed preoccupation only moments before, had suddenly sat up, alert, without a hint of his previous nonchalance.
Payal instinctively shovelled a spoonful of halwa into her mouth in a semi-successful attempt to stifle a round of hysterical giggles.
But she was not the only one pursued by the clutches of mirth, for by the time Di had turned back to her, a wide grin had settled with ease across her face, aglow with the same mischief-spiked delight that Payal herself was having trouble controlling.
'That's a great idea, Payal!' Di exclaimed, clapping her hands twice, effervescent glee bubbling off her tone, 'That way, Khushi can take a little break too. I'm sure she's tired from chasing around after me twenty-four hours a day!'
'Nahi Di, aisa nahi-' Khushi's agitatedly embarrassed denial detonated at once, the words tripping over one another in their haste, and sounding so strained she sounded as though she was choking. Payal's laughter found escape through her eyes as they met with the glittering pair of Di's, her fingers quivering with barely suppressed hilarity as she held her breath to keep from sniggering out loud. Di, on the other hand, made no attempts at discretion as she fixed Khushi with her eyes narrowed with silent laughter, and managed to say, with obvious amusement,
'Kya 'nahi'? It's actually rather unfair on you Khushi, if you have to keep guard over me all the time...after all...there are other people in this house who equally demand your- attention.'
The woeful lack of subtly was not doing Payal's carefully controlled composure any good, especially as Di seemed to have no qualms in exposing to the table at large the underlying purpose behind her sudden offer to act the role of bodyguard-slash-babysitter for her. And strangely, Payal did not mind in the least. Perhaps it had something to do with the overpowering relief that had spurted unexpectedly over her, thrusting her under the cool, invigorating, bracing downpour of a geyser of it, watching the flagrant joy beaming on her sister's face, watching the quiet sense of peace and fulfilment in her brother-in-law. Perhaps this abrupt and unanticipated respite from days and days of nagging doubt unfastened the knots upon knots of decorum she had been raised with and honed within herself. Perhaps the heady gladness that surged through her had rendered her highly excitable.
Or perhaps, she grinned to herself thinking, it was her harmless way of getting back at Khushi for the constant teasing she been privy to, endless jibes about her and Akashji that Payal had itched to return in full measure. Whereas before, she had lacked the conviction that Khushi's marriage was as happy as she was led to believe impeding her, there was, after all, no such hindrance in her way now.
Payal gloried in the playful delight of leg-pulling that Khushi was a connoisseur at.
And in spite of the pleased amusement with which she took in Khushi's stunned look, with a tint of reproach at what she was sure her fanciful sister would label betrayal later on, Payal unearthed another souvenir with succour that she could stack up on her mantelpiece, crowded with trinkets of the small delights in life. She still continued to have a lingering suspicion that the strains in Jethji and Khushi's relationship had perhaps been exacerbated by the fact that she had not been around to shoulder some of the responsibility of a bahu. Khushi had had to face the daunting challenge of being married into Shantivan, with its opulence haughtily upright in every corner, without the chance of seeking shelter in and comfort in her lap as she had been wont to from early childhood. A half sob jammed itself in her throat, and Payal felt a few tears sheen her vision, her motherly protectiveness getting the better of her. If anything, she could not have opened up to her husband either in that short span of time- with Akashji absent, Jethji was bound to have had more on his plate than he normally did despite his notorious workaholic tendencies.
She had seen the transition of the subdued Khushi to the lively little child that had never grown up, her little sister who had been lost somewhere in these past few days. Offering to take Khushi's place in the temporary sleeping arrangements was just a tiny little way she felt she could make up for the time she and Akashji had inadvertently stolen from the lives of another recently married couple.
Devi Maiyya knew, Khushi deserved it.
Anjali turned from a flabbergasted Khushi, the deepening red of her face extending its reach straight to the roots of her hair, to her dear younger brother, and could not help a renewed chortle spilling out of her mouth.
He looked, put simply, like a kid in a candy store.
A medley of muffled sniggers and suppressed chuckling spanned the expanse of the table as the rest of the family caught on to the wit scantily draped beneath her seemingly innocent words.
Nani, with a smirk adorning her that would have done her oldest grandson proud, added her acquiescence to Anjali's statement.
'That is true, bitiya. You should let Payal bitiya have a chance to look after her sister-in-law too. And after all, you must remember that you are part of this family, not just Anjali bitiya's matron. After all, you are our bahu- and first and foremost the wife of our Chote.' The roguishness was barely repressed.
Anjali turned back to look indulgently at Khushi, adorably flustered, rotate haltingly back in her seat, her usually creamy porcelain skin dyed a vibrant crimson, her frenzied fingers pawing at the edge of the table cloth. Watched as her mortified eyes impulsively fluttered up to the person sitting straight in front of her. Watched as her expression melted from one of sheer embarrassment to something that almost resembled trauma when her Chote, without even the pretence of impassivity, gazed steadily back at her with a lopsided grin momentarily flitting across her face.
His own uninhibited joy luminous in his eyes.
And as she watched her younger brother smirk unabashedly at his wife, overcome with embarrassment, she felt her heart bulging from the upsurge of happiness that gushed into it. For the past two nights, she had failed to fall asleep without relentlessly irksome guilt nipping at the corners of her conscience. Just when the unspoken tension between Chote and Khushi had seemed to ease somewhat, just as she had seen those two reverting to the way they used to act around each other in the days preceding the marriages, Khushi had had to preoccupy more and more of her time to the question of her wellbeing. She had been racking her brains for a way to convince Nani, Chote and Khushi, all three of whom seemed to be obsessed with her health and presided over her every move like a trio of hawks, that she did not need to be pampered to such extents. She was, after all, only pregnant, not sick. It wasn't that big of a deal.
So Payal's suggestion, with its hidden intent blatantly obvious, was rather fortuitous and Anjali seized this welcome chance to play her own small part in bringing Khushi and Chote closer together. True to her name, Khushi had brought the smile, the laughter, the happiness, back into her little brother's life and Anjali's heart swelled with gratitude that she could perhaps never elucidate.
Devi Maiyya knew, Chote deserved this.
It was a miracle. Of epic proportions.
And Arnav had allowed himself to be winded by stunned disbelief for a few milliseconds before catching hold of himself.
For once, his over-possessive, and, he had to admit somewhat guiltily, interfering, family had pulled through for him.
There would be time later to dwell on his twinge of conscience at the inadvertent offence he had always taken whenever his family had been involved in the time he managed to pillage with Khushi. Right now, Arnav was far too busy sailing upon the broad wings of hope as it flapped energetically higher and higher, sending itself rocketing upwards through space and soaring in sweeping bows far above the clouds, euphoric in the rush of adrenaline. This had been highly unexpected. But definitely not unwelcome. Arnav Singh Raizada, after all, was reputed for his shrewdness, his judicious perception and his somewhat unscrupulous ability to manipulate circumstances for his ends. He hadn't become a mogul in the fashion industry for nothing.
And there was no way he was going to let an opportunity as priceless as this pass him by.
Especially as it was one his deepest fantasies turned to reality, laid across a silver platter for him.
Regardless, he continued to feel rather dazed by the abruptness of what had just transpired. He had been far too busy floating on a cloud of beatific oblivion, a mix of undefined, vague emotions overlapping one another, coalescing and folding upon each other until Arnav was not entirely sure what he was feeling, except perhaps that he had never been this happy, or peaceful, in his entire existence. And in the midst of being on perfectly good terms with himself and with life, contentedly seated opposite his beaming, demure wife as she listened to Mamaji's rant about Mamiji's preposterous shopping bills on just make-up, Payal's little suggestion had felt rather like someone had lassoed him and yanked him cleanly out of the healing cool of his cloud of contentment and brought him crashing back to earth, where the present seemed to be preparing for its own jubilation.
His eyes instinctively searched for Khushi's, and he was rewarded with a pair in hazel brown glimmering with a multitude of tussling emotions, ranging all the way from embarrassment, mortification, bewilderment, to what looked like...Arnav forgot how to breathe, the absence of air made up for by the sudden outbreak of frenetic drumbeats by his heart...looked like hesitance. A heartbreakingly shy hesitance.
Antagonism toward her sister's proposal was nowhere to be found in those beautiful eyes, which shone with a million messages as they sought solutions in his. Just like looking through fine crystal.
And notwithstanding the bout of poorly repressed laughter which swept the table, in spite of the fact that Akash actually managed to master enough gall to elbow him, of Di's broad Cheshire cat smile, Payal reaching out to pat the side of Khushi's tomato-red face...Arnav felt a smile break out effortlessly across his face, a meagre testimony to his gratitude to the sudden ambush of his unbelievably good fortune, in ways that he could only have dreamt of.
And he had a feeling that tonight at least, he would dream sweet dreams. Would finally be free of the torture of sleeplessness with nothing to do but allow himself to speculate on all things Khushi.
As for the merriment that this circumstance, which might once upon a time have inflamed his weakly tethered temper, elicited at the table- well, hadn't he already established to himself that morning at breakfast, that it really did not matter being teased when he was teased about something that made him so happy?
'Acha, Khushi bitiya,' Nani's voice broke in, 'your Bauji is being discharged tomorrow right? What time did they say?'
'In the morning, Naniji,' Khushi was evidently grateful for the diversion, turning about in her seat completely so she faced Nani instead, 'He'll be home before ten tomorrow morning.'
And in a matter of seconds, the astringent anticipation which had wrapped about him slipped off seamlessly to be replaced by a quiet sense of satisfaction. The simple glee in Khushi's voice was a soothing balm that never failed to ease the most turbulent of his emotions.
Nani smiled back at the childish delight with which Khushi was smiling at her. 'I can imagine how happy you must be, bitiya. Both of you,' she lifted her indulgent gaze towards Payal, 'After all these days, seeing your father well and at home again...'
There was a pause of calm silence. Then Nani spoke again.
'So that must mean you two will be leaving us very early tomorrow morning then? Madhumatiji had asked us earlier to let the two bitiyas stay with them when Shashi babua returned...although of course it is only to be expected. He would recover a lot faster with both the apples of his eyes before him. But I must admit my selfishness- Shantivan is going to feel a lot emptier without our two bahus here.'
That was it.
He should have known it was all too good to be true.
Khushi watched a series of expressions slide across Arnav's face as Nani spoke, from a faint mystified look to blank incomprehension before understanding dawned.
And then his eyes darted back to Khushi with such shocked dismay that Khushi had to bite down hard on her lower lip.
Because the gobsmacked look on his face, for some reason, excited the already excitable butterflies in her stomach and their chaotic flight tickled her mercilessly. Inexplicable hysteria threatened to overtake her for the second time that evening, and Khushi had to stop breathing before she succumbed to their overpowering temptation once more.
And yet, despite that hysterical edge pitilessly wrangling her self-control, Khushi felt a pang of something in her stomach that she wouldn't have under ordinary circumstances, with what should be the wonderful prospect of spending the next two days with just her Amma, Bauji, Buaji, and Jiji, all together, just like the good old days, laid grandly before her.
It was an unmistakable pang.
It was a pang of disappointment.
'Aw, cheer up Chote, she's only going to be gone for two days!' Di cooed as she patted him on the head, 'She's not leaving town or anything!'
Arnav glared up at his sister's face, puckered irritatingly as though she were trying to cajole a recalcitrant little child being obstinate for no good reason. Except that he was not a child, and he did have a good reason. And Di's over-sugared attempts to mollify him were not doing his already aggravated mood any good either.
Di seemed to realise that too, because she ambled about the side of the sofa and seated herself carefully beside him, laying a comforting hand on his forearm, 'Come on Chote, her father is coming home after all these days, cured from a condition no one was sure he would recover from! It's only to be expected that he would want both his daughters with him when he came back home right?'
That last thing Arnav needed right now was to be shown sense, and Di was doing too thorough a job there. Heck, he did not want to listen to reason. Khushi was his wife. How could Nani unilaterally decide to let her go off not for one, but two whole days, without even seeking his permission once? And how was he supposed to make it through those two days? Two nights of Khushi's absence had turned him into a helpless insomniac, two whole days without her smile, her blush, the music of her anklets, the vibrancy of her sarees, her lovably crazy antics, seemed nothing short of a recipe for disaster. Arnav cringed inwardly. How was he supposed to explain all that to his Di without it sounding like a mushy, emotional fool? It had taken him long enough to accept it all himself.
Di sighed in defeat. 'Honestly Chote, you can be so difficult sometimes. Payal is going too, but do you see Akash sulking?'
Arnav felt himself squirm at Di's almost tactless choice of words. The last thing anyone would catch ASR doing would be 'sulking.' He wondered acerbically whether Di actually saw him as the difficult little boy she sounded like she was trying to pacify. And besides, he was not sulking. He hadn't said anything, had he? Though for his Di, his taciturnity probably said more than his speech could have. And yes, Akash was sulking too. He remembered only too well the rueful smile he had flashed in his direction as they both rose to leave the dining table, remembered thinking acidly that Akash had no business being rueful. He had just returned from his honeymoon for heaven's sake. A one-month honeymoon during which he had had ample opportunity to spend as much time as he wanted with his wife, without anyone else getting in the way. While he had only just started getting closer to Khushi.
And now he was rueful. He couldn't really expect his Di to treat him any differently if he sounded like a stubborn, quarrelsome child in his own head. And neither was he able to summon the energy to contradict Di, to brush off his foul temper as related to work, or something else. Because he knew that any excuse he had to offer would be too flimsy to convince someone who knew all the shades of his silence. He heaved a weary sigh.
'Di,' he laid a hand over the one resting on his arm, 'don't overreact, OK? There's nothing wrong with me.'
'We should have told you when Buaji asked us this morning itself,' Di continued somewhat unhappily.
Arnav couldn't help it. 'What?! You knew since morning?'
He glowered testily at her as she returned his stare looking rather sheepish.
'We-ell, yes,' she admitted slowly, and then retaliated defensively, 'but you said you were having a busy workday! I didn't want to disturb you, you'd only get angry!'
Arnav stared tetchily back at his sister, the latter armed now with an almost accusing look. He groaned inwardly.
And what of the point of his 'busy workday'? The only reason he had gone through with such a tight schedule was only so that he could set the wheels in motion for the little idea he had spent all night last night formulating, down to the last painstaking detail. Already, waiting for a whole twenty four hours for his plan to see the light of success was proving to be an ordeal. Now the added complication of the fact that Khushi would not even be home when he came back bearing the fruit of his labours served to heighten his grievances, and hope, which had flown such gallant circles a handful of minutes ago, sordidly returned to its perch, its wings tightly clamped about it in its petulance. The prospect of waiting forty eight more hours than he had gambled for was an incredibly unsavoury one, and Arnav found himself scowling.
He had to do something about this.
By that time, the after dinner party had wandered into the living-room for their after-dinner tea, where Arnav had chosen to seek refuge in an attempt to recover from a rather unpleasant surprise. Now Nani, having reclined somewhat into the armchair adjacent from them, addressed Di.
'Bitiya, it has been a while since Damaadji left. Will he be returning soon?'
Khushi froze in the act of lifting a teacup from the tray resting on the low centre table. Still crouched beside the table, she felt her muscles lock uncomfortably, leaving her teetering in an uncomfortable posture, poised on her knees, the thought of passing round the tea completely forgotten. Mental agility was the only thing left mobile, and it zeroed in to the person sitting, unruffled, beside her husband.
The silence was irrepressible in those few milliseconds that elapsed before Di answered.
Her calm was eerie.
'Possibly, Nani. He's very busy.'
Just that. Two short phrases. No whining, no complaints, no outbursts of anxiety. Just two short, to the point phrases.
Khushi's eyes darted of their own accord to the person next to Di, the person who had unassumingly abandoned the somewhat hunched over position she had entered the living room to find him in. Now, he was upright, unwaveringly straight. His eyes were fixed on her, and as their gazes met, Khushi had the oddest of sensations that Arnav had somehow glimpsed straight into her mind and seen the scurry of her trains of thought zigzagging into different directions. She did not know why she felt that way. Did not feel the need to contradict her instinct. Instead, she held his gaze.
He was assuring her. He was cautioning her.
Nani leant forward in her seat a little, looking faintly troubled.
'Is it anything serious bitiya? He's been gone for a while and he had to leave unexpectedly...'
'No, Nani, nothing serious. You know how it is...he's always dealing with cases which require him to be out of town for long periods of time...'
'Haan bitiya, but now of all times he should be with you...'
'Uffo, Nani, I haven't even been pregnant for two months yet and you are getting so worked up. Waise bhi, aap sabh ho na...'
'Still, I think I should call Damaadji...tell him to finish off whatever work he has as soon as possible and come back...'
'No, no, Nani.' Was it Khushi's imagination, or did she sound suddenly...anxious? Did her tone suddenly a little- feverish? 'I called him this morning...he said he should be back in a few days.'
An awful sinking sensation settled like slush in her stomach, and Khushi felt a wave of nausea sweep over her.
He's coming back.
A single streak of current blazed its way through the space separating Khushi from Arnav, and her head shot up once more.
Arnav's eyes were still focused steadfastly on her. But this time that watchful vigilance was replaced with something else. His gaze was now softer, and Khushi could have sworn that the air about her had grown suddenly warmer, caressing her gently. With reassurance, with reaffirmation of solidarity, of support. They did not need words to find their way to her. The strains in her breathing eased. The uncomfortable dipping in the pit of her stomach subsided.
She redirected her attention to the tea-tray and mechanically set about passing around the cups, her mind several miles away.
'Dammit, I want to know how he managed to contact anyone at all with you people on his track!' Arnav bellowed into his Blackberry, the heels of his shoes scuffing against the floor as he paced with barely repressed aggression about his bedroom, 'I want to know what I'm paying you lot for if that bas***d could get hold of a phone to call anyone at all, without your knowledge!' There was a brief pause, bristling with manic rage. 'I don't care. I want results, and I want them ASAP, do you understand me?'
His Blackberry went flying across the room and landed with a muted thud on the bed. Running his hands through his hair, Arnav tried hard to rein in his fury. Khushi would be returning to their room soon, and he did not want his infamous, rampaging anger scaring her off. As it was, Shyam Manohar Jha had infused enough venom into their lives already, into precious time that he could never claim back. He had been the sole reason Arnav had, with his own hands, stricken down his lifeline, destroyed both sides of the battlefield...
And there was no way Arnav was going to let even the idea of his return wreak havoc a second time round in the haven he had only just begun to build for himself and his Khushi. No matter what happened next.
As if on cue, he heard the doorknob turn, clicking unusually loudly in the silence as it gently swung open. He spun about on the spot, as the hinges creaked ever so slightly, and stood stock still as Khushi appeared on the threshold.
For a moment neither of them moved. They simply stood there, looking at each other.
And just as naturally, Arnav felt the pulsating wrath which had been violently let loose within him ebb quietly away, to be replaced by a sudden overpowering need to protect, to defend, to shelter, to comfort. Khushi was still there, uncertain at the doorway, swaying gently from side to side as though unsure what her next move should be. That hesitance, coupled with a tinge of fear, had displayed itself clearly against her delicate features, and one of her tiny hands had balled into a fist, clutching the edge of her pallu, resting against her abdomen.
Without thinking, his hand stretched out before him.
And without thinking, Khushi's feet carried her off in an instant, very nearly breaking into a sprint in their arcane haste. Within a heartbeat, she was deep within the sanctuary that this room suddenly seemed to embody, and her hand had reached out to place itself eagerly into his. How ironic life was- she had spent so many days hunting excuses to evade this room, to evade him...and now she hurried towards both for refuge.
Just as some tiny corner of her mind expected, the minute those lean fingers enclosed her small, cold hand in their firm, warm hold, she felt the ruffles of disarray and distress and perplexity smooth out, leaving behind a restful hum in its place. Yes, it did not mean that the causes of her disarray and distress and perplexity were gone- but at least it allowed her to look within herself for the courage she needed to face them and tackle them one at a time. At least it proved to her that she would not have to tackle them alone.
Unthinkingly, her eyes rose from their entwined hands to his, and she found herself sucked in without the chance to compose herself into their liquid fire. She did not have it in her to fight him- especially not now, when the silent support his mere touch was pledging to her was her hope of sustenance.
'Khushi,' he murmured gently, as though he was afraid if he raised his voice he might hurt her. Her heartbeat pumped a little harder at the tenderness of that voice, 'Go and get changed. We have to talk. OK?'
She knew that that prospect, that they needed to 'talk', ought to instil some degree of dread in her, at least. But then again, woven in that silken voice, swimming in the melting depths of his gaze, she had never truly been able to feel what she 'ought' to, did not understand what she should dread to begin with. She found herself nodding her head, drifting vaguely towards the closet before coordinating her limbs towards the bathroom.
Like clockwork, she stopped. Turning about she found him watching her, his expression heart-wrenchingly gentle.
'It's all going to be OK. Don't worry.'
Again, Khushi did not really need to think as she nodded her head in assent.
I had to get a lot of Shyamu out of the way- he's been way too absent over the last couple of chapters. But don't worry, I'm just clearing more space for Arhi by doing that :P
OK- I need a little advice. Should i continue making haphazard posts or wait for a regular net so the chapters are more sensibly aligned?
And- if you don't wish to receive PMs for this FF, please de-buddy me. I won't mind at all:) Unless of course I'm a reader of your fics, in which case, please, please don't de-buddy me, I'm gonna solve this stupid net issue no matter what. IF is like a drug that I can't live without- dramatic but true;)
I reserve all rights to this work of fiction and request that readers do not reproduce/copy/modify it elsewhere and or claim credit. Thanks :)
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Love ARHI scenes...absolutely amazing...
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