Chapter 1
3:03 AM
“Do Botal Paani.”(“Two Water bottles.”) He said to the vendor standing behind the stall, and rubbed a grubby hand across his face, looking back over his shoulder to the small hunched figure sitting on a wooden bench some distance away. She was clutching the little bag he’d handed her before coming over to buy the water, to her chest as if her life depended on it- and he chuckled darkly. Her life did depend on it. Their lives depended on it.
It seemed impossible that just this morning he had been squabbling with his Mother over not getting to eat anything sweet, on his own Sister’s wedding. What wouldn’t he give to have his Mother back with him, right now? Scolding him, boxing his ear for smuggling a sweet out of Hari Prakash’s kitchen. He would swear off of everything sweet if only he could go back to that morning- go back to his mother. If he could just undo every horrible thing that had happened to him since that morning. If only he could wipe his mind clean of every terrible thing he had witnessed.
“Bees rupaye.”(“Twenty Rupees”) The man said, as he handed him the bottles- and he fished out two notes of ten from his shirt pocket, before making his way back to her. Her bright purple Salwar-Kameeze was dirty, and the long hair she always tied in a braid was missing the pom-poms she so loved to hang in there. She was hugging her knees to her chest- the small leather pouch cradled safely between the cradle she had formed as a result. She looked up at him as he came to a stop beside her, and smiled a small, heartbreakingly sad smile- which he tried to return with a small one of his own- but all he could manage was a pale, shadow of what his smile used to be- an almost grimace. He watched as she wiped the free part of the wooden bench with her purple dupatta, and raised her big hazel eyes to him again- indicating that it was safe for him to sit down- and he sighed. He had told her, over and over again for the past three years now that she didn’t need to treat him like royalty- that she was his friend- that for her, he wasn’t Chottey Sahib- he was just Arnav. Her Friend. And now, her family.
Because- she was the only family he had, left.
He sat down beside her nonetheless, and she snuggled up to his side in search of warmth. He quickly put an arm around her- and felt her relax against him. He knew she was terrified. Hell, he was terrified- and he was the older one here. And yet, she was the one who’d saved him- dragged him, literally, out of what could have been sure death for him.
“Arnav?” she was whispered- so low and soft- that had it not been for her hum against his chest, he wouldn’t have heard her at all.
“Hmm?” he asked her, his arm tightening unconsciously around her small frame.
“Hum-hume bohot darr lag raha hai… sa-sab theek toh ho jaega na? Wo-wo log hamara p-peecha to nahi karenge?” (I-I’m scared. Will everything be alright? They won’t follow us- will they?)
He closed his eyes and pulled her more securely against himself. How was he supposed to answer that, without scaring her even more? How could he tell her that it was going to be alright- how could he reassure her- when he, himself, was scared of that very same thing? He sighed again. He wouldn’t lie to her. He didn’t have it in him right now.
“Khushi… I- I know.” He murmured, as he bent his head down- his nose skimming the top of her hair, as she dug herself into his chest. “I’m scared too.” He said, his arms tightening around her again. And she looked up. Those big doe-like eyes searching his face- for what? He didn’t know. Her small hand fisted his shirt tightly, and she blinked, smiling slowly up at him.
“Then we can be not-scared together, no?” she asked him in a small voice. And for the first time in hours, a genuine smile spread across his bruised and battered face. He felt all the emotions he had kept in check for all this time well up inside his chest and come rushing to the fore- misting his eyes up. He nodded down at her, and she hugged him again. Tears silently flowed down their cheeks as they held onto the only family they had- each other- drawing courage from each other.
A lanky, barely eighteen year old boy and a small twelve year old girl- holding on to the only hope they had left in life- their only anchor.
He opened his eyes as he felt the car coming to a stop. Lifting his head up from the seat, he looked outside the window to see the private cottage he had told Aman to book for him, and sighed. He couldn’t be alone right now- the last conversation he’d had with Khushi was replaying itself in his mind and he needed to get rid of it or he would go mad… stark raving mad. He needed distraction… lots and lots of distraction.
And so, this is why, Arnav Singh Raizada found himself on Lo So Shing Beach in Lamma Island of Hong Kong- a little while later- surrounded by barely clothed women, bottles upon bottles of Tequila and music loud enough to lose himself in.
And in turn, it is because of that, that he found himself lying in a highly inappropriate and scandalous position under one of the same barely clothed women, in a beach house the next morning- with a raging headache and hangover and no memory of the previous night to boot.
Khushi touched the mug of hot coffee to her forehead, as she sat gazing down into the streets of Delhi from her Apartment Suite on the 32nd floor of the Dilli Mahal. Had what she done been wrong? She had only come clean about her feelings for him, hadn’t she? She had not forced him to feel something in return for her! She had just relieved herself of that one thing she hadn’t told him yet about her life- and Arnav knew everything that went on in her life- as a rule. She had not expected him to reciprocate her feelings… but she had not expected him to up and take off without so much as a heads-up to her! And somewhere, that reaction of his- hurt. She sighed and closed her eyes.
The loud honking of the train horn woke her up- and she realized that she’d fallen asleep hugging Arnav on Lucknow Station. Startled at first, she looked around her, confused as to how she had ended up here of all places with Arnav and then her eyes widened as the happenings of that day rushed back to her. her hands trembled and her heart started beating up a frenzy against her ribcage as fear the likes of which she’d felt only once in her whole life started to eat at her guts- and her hands tightened around the already crumpled shirt of Arnav- which was still fisted in her hands. She felt him jerk under her hand, and looked up to find him gazing down at her- confusion reigning in his Caramel Brown eyes. She kept quiet as she saw him frown at her and then as his eyes widened a moment later as memories dawned on him too. Another loud honk made them look up and Khushi was dumped unceremoniously on the bench as Arnav scrambled up from his place staring at the train intently. She looked at the train too- and squinted her eyes trying to make out where it was headed from the board hung on one of the bogies. “Haz-hazrat... Nizamuddin.... Delhi Passenger?” she read in wonder, and looked back at Arnav to find him smiling back at her... proud at her reading skills. she smiled back, and he held his hand out for her. He helped her up and jerked his head towards the train. “Come on.”
She raised her eyebrows in question. Now that she noticed him... he looked different- like something had changed in him. there was a definite decisive glint in those eyes. “Wh-where?”
And then, for the first time that day, he grinned at her. Gripping her small hand in his much larger one, he started to walk them towards the train. “Delhi, of course!”
Press conferences. Her days and nights seemed to meld into them. Every few hours, a new and more scandalous picture of Arnav Singh Raizada would come out that would ruin all good will where there Hotel franchise was concerned, Khushi would jump into the fray; damage control. If pictures of ASR floated about partying with naked women cavorting on a yacht on the pristine waters of the South China Sea, then she would say, it’s photoshopped, of course! He was resting and reflecting right now, but he had just awarded the local girls’ school a scholarship! Why not focus on his philanthropy? If there were pictures of him losing into one of those myriad of beautiful women on the sugar white sands of the almost inaccessible beach, she would turn blue in the face - Why, he’s not in Hong Kong at all! He had gone of course but right now? He’s brokering a major business deal between a Singaporean Hotel Chain and their own. Why focus on the false negatives? Can’t you see the new hospital wing he had just donated to the new public hospital in dire need of one? A pre-natal ward, no less? Everybody loved babies, and so did Khushi. But, she wasn’t over using emotional buttons of the masses and the media alike to save him. That’s what he did for her a long time ago, anyway. She closed her eyes, blocking it off. Her role was that of a spin-doctor right now, and spin she will until nobody remembered ASR’s frolics in the Lamma Islands.
Then there had been the board meetings. The terrible ones, with the members hurling accusations at each other. Taking potshots at their CEO’s right hand man, or a woman in this case, in a way they would never have dared if Arnav had been around. Khushi had stood tall, resolute. They knew the power she wielded. A few had later noticed Aman resolutely recording the meetings, and had come to a stop but Khushi had held her own. This was not an open season on the boss’s pet bimbo. She was Arnav’s protegee and that evening, when the members had gone home feeling singed; they had knew just exactly why that was. Then a few had remembered the recording the ever faithful Aman had with them talking down to Khushi. Realized what it meant to their professional lives - All things considered, Khushi was happy to announce that she had the whole board in her favor and, grateful for it. She would hold on to the recording, she smiled, just in case. She thought about the media storm that had again followed, once a photo of Arnav came out, blurry, sure but was he drinking champagne off the latest Victoria’s secret Angel’s navel? It sure looked like that to her from where she was standing. Khushi however had stood tall, played the blind prophet and had kept on denying. Denying. Denying. She had learnt it young enough that if you do it often enough, people believe you. You just needed the right buttons to do so.
So she had spun stories, planted false leads until the whole media circus had died down - two whole weeks of trying to hold the tide down with a piece of driftwood. She had succeeded. Of course she had, but at the same time, she had wished for a sign that he knew what was going on. That he realized what he had put her through, not even allowing to suffer a broken heart in peace. Every night of those two weeks Khushi Kumari Gupta had cried, bitter tears of true devastation, with each photograph of him cavorting with the multinational beauties to remind her - She had gone to sleep, just like that. Woken up and taken a Tylenol or two - Used a little visine to hide the puffy, red eyes and rolled with the onslaught of punches that the media had slyly hurled at her. Stood up each round, around. Did Arnav know? She had wondered on those rare occasions, she had the time to breath without being questioned about it - maliciously, curiously or out of sheer disbelief. Then it had ended, just as abruptly as it all begun. The public had lost interest and the media had moved on to the salacious love life of a Bollywood reigning queen with numerous lovers of either sexes. Khushi, was battered both inside and out, but she had stood standing. She had opened the newspapers this morning and breathed a sigh of relief. They had really moved on. Then came the text;
Good Job. Knew you could do it. - Arnav
Just those two phrases. No polite inquiries about how things were. If she had sunk the franchise in the deepest pits of economical hells in his absence. No questions about how Khushi herself was doing. He had said just that - Which meant, she thought with dawning anger. He knew. He had known what she had gone through. All the time that she had been trying to shield him, even though it broke her heart into millions and millions of little pieces; trying to buy him a little time - to relax and forget - He had known. Had knowingly done all that, putting Khushi through the seven tasks or Hercules, if not worse. What kind of man was he? She wondered, seething. How could he...? Khushi wanted to pack up and leave right then and there, never to return. She was qualified enough to get a good job in any corporation in India, and if needed, over the world. She would leave. She would... Her eyes unknowingly went to the picture of her graduation. It had been almost two years ago, he had been so maddeningly busy; going to meetings at all times of the night, juggling phones - Khushi hadn’t even expected him to show up at her graduation. She had reserved a seat for him, sure. She hadn’t expected him to come. Not really, and nor did she hold any grudges. But as she had gotten up to give her class valedictorian speech, there he had sat! On that seat she had half-heartedly reserved. Phones nowhere in sight. Looking at her solemnly, eyes blazing with pride. He had stayed back. Phones turned off. Took her to dinner while he was in the middle of the biggest deal of his life then, one that had resulted in their lives being changed. He hadn’t left. He had wined her and dined her and given her a watch - A rolex with diamonds set on the dials. He had said that it was so that she could appreciate the value of time, but she had heard the unsaid; Her value to him. She still wore it; Khushi looked down at the everose watch, as the sunlight danced on it. How could she ever leave him? He had given her the universe. Khushi smiled, setting the picture straight. He looked so solemn, beside her grinning self. How could she ever leave?
Khushi had decided then and there that things weren’t going to be different. Not from her side. Never at all. She slowly went to the kitchen, since cooking seemed to be the only thing that helped her unwind these days. She would make welcome home dinner for him, she thought abruptly. Well, the chef’s going to make dinner for them and she would make the dessert. Her kitchen, she thought with a bright smile - looking at the small exposed brick alcove that she herself had added to her wing of the house. Well, her apartment in the house. The red bricks were warmed by pale gold and green tones, and copper pots and pans hung from hooks. It was also stocked with every ingredient needed to make sweets. Indian Sweets - her speciality. Her joy. The sweets she had learned at Hari Prakash’s kitchen as a child, more than a lifetime ago. She would make Malai Ladoo tonight, she thought with a smile. Arnav seemed to like those, although she had to remember to use artificial sweetener, for his diabetes. As if she could ever forget, Khushi thought with a smile as she rolled up the sleeves of her Kurta, folding it precisely as she had seen him do for a million time.
Before long, she had 2 litre of milk evaporating on the stove until it turned into half cup of it. She took down the pan, leaving it to cool. No conversation about the last time they met, she decided. Khushi would pretend nothing had ever been said, or done. She just hoped Arnav took the cues from her. She dropped strands of saffron into the steaming milk, watching it take a beautiful golden hue. Yes, there wouldn’t be any conversation at all. A smile. A hug. Things back to normal. What they had was too precious to lose to stray, unwelcome emotions, she thought resolutely. Even as she set the thickened milk on the stove again added 250gm of fresh crumbled paneer to it, stirring continuously - thickening further. Some sugar substitute, and semi-crushed cashews were stirred in too. Their relationship, Khushi mused, greasing a tray - was far too precious to be risked over anything. She had been a fool to have done it once, she thought while pouring the thickened fragrant golden mixture on the tray. She wouldn’t do it again. Never again, she thought rolling the mixture into little balls - ladoos and covering them with edible silver leaves (Rangta). No, never again. A lot had gone into their lives to make it as wonderful as it was now, she thought, looking at the laddoos, remembering the whole process. Laughing as she found similarities between both. She would never lose it over anything in this world. Khushi slipped the Malai Ladoos in the freezer. Would Arnav smile looking at them?
As she took the car, the driving maneuvering it in the streets of Delhi, she remembered the first night they had come here.
“Why Delhi Arnav?” she had asked apprehensively. Stepping down from the train that had swallowed her up for hours. Here, at the dead of night in the station, she looked on, worried. Fearful. Why had they come into this big city that she knew nothing about? Why would Khushi do here? “Because it’s the city of lights Khushi.” he had answered in a low voice, “A city of hearts”, a play on the word with the hindi term for hearts - Dil... Dilli. “And,” he had added in a harsher tone, “A city where you could lose yourself in. Start anew. We both need to.” Khushi at 13 hadn’t understood the fear, the determination the 18 years old had gone through to bring about the miracle he had, now. She had looked at him in surprise, in hero-worship and had quietly agreed, because he had to be right, her 13 years old brain said. “I knew you had the answer,” he had smiled a little brightly and they had held hands, walking towards the unknown. Let the darkness swallow them. Dilli...
Was the 13 years old girl still in there somewhere? She thought. Was all this nothing but a more elaborate form of hero worship? She laughed it away by the next thought. No. She had known that she had loved him by the time she was 16. He had just been too blind to see it. As the car sped towards the Delhi International Airport, a free pocket in the usually thick traffic making it possible, she looked out into the night sky. The stars were twinkling, unseen by the people too overwhelmed by the traffic, the balmy heat, the humidity and the daily grind of living. She had never forgotten them. City of lights. They had been her courage in a strange city after dark. Did Arnav ever remember? Then she smiled, knowing him, the question that needed to be asked was - Just how hard did he work at it to forget?
He played with his cellphone as he sat looking out the tiny window. Should he have said more? Said less? Pretend that he hadn’t heard anything at all, instead of rushing out like the hounds of hell were after him that night? He had no excuses for his ignorant actions other than running away from any and every hint of emotions and feelings like he’d done his whole life- well the life that they’d made for themselves together, at least, he thought.
She had been with him, all the way, from the time they’d been on the roads, literally, to the time they’d made Hotels the size of Palaces all over the world. she’d been his support system, his morale booster- the one he turned to when he was feeling down in the dumps and she’d given him the courage to get up and go on. He knew that Khushi had always seen him on a pedestal - The hero who had saved her. Rescued her from a life of nothing. Arnav never dared tell her that it was the opposite - That her hero had feet of clay. It was her who had helped him be courageous. The thought of becoming guardian to a 13 years old, he smiled, would change any man to become - something more. To do his best. Especially when she was someone like... Khushi Kumari Gupta. She had been with him from the times in the hovels to now. How was he ever to go on without her?
They stood looking at the dilapidated room that Shashi Kumarji had showed them to in the Laxmi Nagar chawl. It was... bad. Arnav had never seen something so... disgusting... ever. He could make out small forms of god-knew-what animals scuttering about under and over the debris that littered the floor. He had wrinkled his nose, and looked down at her- he couldn’t make her stay in such a place! but the next moment, his face had fallen- shoulders slightly hunched, as he remembered the predicament they were currently in. With the amount of money that he had right now- only such living quarters were possible. he sighed- preparing himself to break the news as gently as he could while being firm, he opened his mouth, and stopped short. Khushi had a bright smile lighting up her face.
She grabbed his hand and literally towed him into the small room. he stood still, in the middle of the room- as she ran from corner to corner, inspecting it- bravely stepping over the merrily playing rats on the floor to run over to the windows to pry them open. He didn’t understand. She was... happy?
he watched her walk to the wall farthest from the door through which they’d entered and kneel down. she looked back at him- and smiled one more of her dazzling smiles. “This wall here can be the kitchen! and here...” she ran over to the left corner of the room, “here we will keep all the clothes... and we can sleep over there! near the window, so we can see the stars at night!” she had proceeded to point out more of what they could do with the little room, hope shining brightly in her eyes and he had smiled at her excitement.
he had seen the small room through her hopeful eyes, then, and had seen what she wanted to show him. A Home. Their Home.
That had been the first out of many instances to come in his life, that she had caught him before he fell into the black abyss of hopelessness. Cheerfully helping him to build what he wanted out of what he saw. she had been the only reason for his smile- for a long time, now. Never, in all these years, had he paid a thought to what would happen when she finally decided she wanted to get married, or move out, or study something else, have kids! He broke out in sweat, despite of the cool air around him. He realized just how much he’d taken her presence in his life for granted.
And then, she had sprung that god-awful conversation on him- completely out of the blue! How was he supposed to react to that? She knew he was bad at all of these things! Hell, she had acted as his saving grace so many times, when he’d almost blown a deal due to his intolerance and inability to comprehend all these feelings-emotions thingies! so he’d done, what he’d been doing all his life. He had run, and he had left her all alone to deal with everything that came after- like always.
And, like every other time, she had stood up and faced it all head on. Using every resource she could lay her hands on to smooth out the storm. The Queen of Tact, he’d named her after one such particularly harrowing episode of his cowardice- which had almost cost them their expansion in South India- and she had stepped in with her cleverly disguised sweet words and sweeter smiles, the well placed donations she’d made in his name, the well-timed dinner parties she’s made him host, calling in of favors- and she had saved the day. it must have been the same, this time- he knew. it must have been even worse this time- with him completely out of the picture- or maybe with him at the very centre of the picture enhancing the diameter even as she tried to wipe it clean... she must be raving mad at him! what with the... confession and then all this fuss. He sighed again. he had to clear the air between them, somehow. he couldn’t let what they’d shared for such a long time, now, change because of something as superficial as a schoolgirl crush that she had on him! and he was sure as hell not going to lose her over something as idiotic and completely ridiculous as Love.
He knew what he would do the moment he got home. Arnav closed his eyes. Home. Khushi was home.... Wasn’t she? He realized that he had never given her the talk people gave youngsters in the first throes of love. He laughed. His own mother had given it to him when he was 16 - Ah Anamika! He thought fondly of the girl who had first broken his heart; Khushi having lived under his shadows all her adult life... How was she supposed to differentiate between her feelings for him as a man and those of a 13 years old with a bad case of hero worship? Yes. He thought resolutely of the talk he would have with her. Once they were done. Everything would be back to normal. Of course it would be. He, Arnav Singh Raizada would see to it. The talk, Arnav sighed, unclipping his seatbelt as the plane finished taxing down the runway. Why the talk? Why now? He sighed again as he stood up and moved out of his seat. He needed her to come out of the Land of Fantasy that she’d apparently built in all the time he’d been busy protecting her from all evils with everything he had, and he had to make her think rationally. Would it be difficult? Awkward? Unbearable? He didn’t know... any or all of those, maybe. But he knew one thing. She would bounce back. She always did. and he would see to it, that she did it this time too. They had a ritual, ever since his first overseas meeting - She would come and pick him up from the airport - no matter how busy she had been all day.
“Arnav!” she had squealed! “I missed you! I missed you! Oh how I had missed you!” she had rushed into his arms, the world at bay. The passengers around him had given him looks, wondering at the lovers’ reunion. Some had smiled gently at them. He had ignored it at- And Khushi? She had only eyes for him. “Of course you did,” he had teased gently. “Now let’s go home. Don’t you want to see what I had gotten for you?” She had smiled. Eyes glinting suspiciously. “You home is the best gift there is Arnav! I don’t need anything else!” Arnav had then smiled at the cliche - Knowing, that she had meant it.
Would she be here today? He wondered, worried. A little scared. Had his cowardice driven away the most important person in his life? She hadn’t given up on him quite so fast, had she? He thought, frantically. He knew that in the recent years he had failed her on so many fronts. Khushi though, had borne it all with good grace. Had this been the metaphorical straw that broke her back? Please. No! Arnav closed his eyes, for the first time in years - scared.
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7 comments
Dear Gargee,
ReplyDeleteThank for sharing the blog and giving me the pleasure and opportunity to read of the most popular Arhi stories. I would comment as I read each chapter.
Thanks again!!
Gargee,
ReplyDeleteI just started reading again from the beggining... its been so long I need to re-read to feel this story again :)
Thanks for remembering me and sending me an email with links.
Thanks a lot.
Aarthi
Hi, am I glad I found you. For the past 2 years I had missed this story so much and used to always wonder what could be the state of this story. Now that I found you, I can sleep peacefully knowing this will find an end. I started reading it again from the beginning and am thoroughly enjoying the intricacies.
ReplyDeleteIF-mrignayani
I didn't even know this had a blog of it's own! the brown background makes it hard to read sometimes though...or is it just my old eyes? :P
ReplyDeleteHave started re-reading
ReplyDeleteHope we will get a good news for the update of this story
Reading it again after years but still one of my favourite ARHI stories. Thank you
ReplyDeleteI know that this comment is way overdue but I have to say that your words are poetic.. Love how beautifully you have portrayed the complexity and nuances of our leads..Neha
ReplyDelete