Chapter 9
3:43 AM
Arnav knew he wasn’t being fair - not to her, or to himself but he had drove them ragged. His whole team was running ragged with the new Raizada Royale Mumbai. He was exhausted, and Khushi, probably a step ahead of him. Arnav knew that he could have easily had someone to look after it. Hell, Aman would have clamoured to get away from him and would have given an eye teeth for the project, he smiled grimly. Tough. Of course, AR had reached to a point where neither Arnav or Khushi needed to be there to oversee the hotel infrastructure but, it was tradition. Arnav was a man tied by them - a creature of habit. Severely Obsessive Compulsive, but it was blood, he thought darkly. It was something that just needed to be done. Of course, if he was honest to himself (which he frequently was), he had needed to get Khushi away from Delhi. Away from the Singhania scion. This was the least invasive and obvious way that his wily mind could think of and two weeks since returning from Bangalore, Arnav and Khushi had come to Mumbai to oversee the hotel building brick by brick - Arnav knew that Aman would oversee the day to day running of AR smoothly (in that way he’d grant his poor executive assistant a silver lining, he thought smiling), and the rest could be done online by him but they were, by all that was holy staying at Mumbai for the next month or so. Overseeing the hotel being built would not only draw them closer still, it would also drive away the thought of the NK Singhania (what a name, he sneered) away from Khushi’s mindframe. After all, he believed in the adage out of sight, out of mind - that would never change.
They had come, Khushi incandescent with excitement and Arnav, ever driven - to a leased luxury apartment at Kurla, where they were to stay for the duration. There was something extra special about the Raizada Royale Mumbai as well - the principal restaurant at the hotel would be Naivedyam, something Khushi had been told just recently to her joy. She knew that Arnav didn’t do business where emotions were involved - He had thought that her restaurant was good enough to grace his Hotel and he had asked her to to sign an agreement to make it a reality - something Khushi had cherished. She was good enough. Her restaurant was. So the formalities had been dispensed with and Naivedyam was officially incorporated with Raizada Royale, Mumbai. They had worked like dogs, no, she thought smiling, like pack mules - Arnav more than her. He usually woke up at six, was gone to the site by 8 and would only return around 9-ish. She handled the business side and the promotions but they too kept her incredibly busy. No room for social life. Fortunately, she thought with a smile, NK was sweet enough to drop by in Mumbai within the next week or so on his way to Dubai for some conference or the other. She crossed her legs, the hem of the white and peach Rachel Rose watercolor day dress rose high over her smooth glossy thighs, while her powder blue pumps-clad toes beat a tattoo on the warm concrete in the hot Mumbai afternoon at the Oakroom in Juhu. Arnav and she had come there to enjoy their lunch, al fresco on a rare free afternoon. Khushi didn’t notice the effect her bare legs on the surrounding male population, but Arnav had. Hell, he was having a hard time tearing his eyes away from her gams. Arnav swallowed, unwilling to think about them anymore than necessary. It wasn’t... it wasn’t right. She stretched, arching back unconsciously in an attempt to get comfortable and the braided grey-silver cord nipping the waist of her t-shirt dress drew in tighter, emphasizing on those lush breasts. He couldn’t help it, looking. Aching to touch. It was such a sudden thing that it all but knocked Arnav on his ass. An innocent gesture. Something she had done in his presence at least a million times already. Why had it affected him like this now? Even Arnav, whose moral radar was a little bit skewed than most, knew how wrong it was. He breathed in, tearing his eyes away, swearing at himself. Arnav swallowed, and raised a finger, “I’d have whatever draught you have on tap please,” he told the server hoarsely. Hell, he needed a drink. Or, seven of them.
She smiled, declining the server’s offer for draught beer for her as well. She would much rather have the in-house red wine, she smiled. Could they recommend a good Shiraz? Arnav noticed the servers tripping over their tongues to please her, an epidemic, he thought nastily. What had happened to her to bloom like this? His Khushi was always beautiful but reserved but this one? She was radiant. Arnav loathed to think just what NK had done to her to attain that bloom. He sucked down the chilled glass and ordered another, hoping that Khushi hadn’t noticed how fast he had finished it. No, he thought, she hadn’t, too busy with the building fanclub. She turned the wine list, the gold chunky multi-chains bracelet clinking on her delicate wrist enticingly. He could see the men's eyes following her wrist motions and rolled his eyes, silently. Somebody from the other table recommended a Shiraz-Tintara; a McLaren Vale wine and she laughingly agreed to try it, leaving another fan in her wake. Arnav shook his head bitterly, what had happened here? Really? She got up, holding a taupe portfolio clutch and leaned down to whisper in his ears that she was going to the ladies’. He had a reluctant eyeful of her subtle cleavage and felt sweat pop on his forehead. A hand in the dress pocket, she sauntered down, and he was sure he saw all the male in the vicinity with their eyes glued to her butt. Her hair flowed down her back, held back from that perfect face by two tiny hammered gold combs and Arnav’s breath hitched. Perfect face? When had he ever started thinking about her face like that? The next moment though, he calmed himself down. He was a man who enjoyed and appreciated what was aesthetically perfect and Khushi’s face, at least these days to him, definitely fit that bill. Was it so strange, really that he would find her beautiful? Beauty was meant to be enjoyed, wasn’t it? Arnav shook his head, and downed another beer, what the fuck was he going to do with her? At least, he thought and took some comfort from it, NK Singhania was nowhere nearby mucking things up.
He watched her sip her Shiraz, exclaiming over the full flavours. Arnav wasn’t a wine man, but the way those juicy lips (fuck me, he thought and immediately backtracked on that idea, appalled!) caressed the wineglass rims and drank the red... stirred him. He shook his head to clear it, even while Khushi enthused over the fruit, spice, chocolate, the supple tannins, lips pursed in an unconscious moue. While Arnav was not a man who appreciated wine, what he wouldn’t give to taste that particular Shiraz off those lips and lick... He shook his head, horrified this time. He had drank too much. Way too much. “Khushi,” he said gruffly causing her to look up, surprised. “We need to get going. I drank too much, you need to drive.” He tossed her the keys to his Audi SUV, which she caught and before she had a chance to say more about the topic, he strode towards the counter, paid the bill and made his way toward the car. There were some lines that you crossed because you could and some you didn’t even edge towards, he had almost toed the latter kind today. A taboo. Wrong. He couldn’t think about it now, blame it on anything but the excessive alcohol he had downed (although, honestly, there weren’t that many) and he needed to sleep it off. The exhaustion was getting to him, along with the forced celibacy, Arnav reasoned. Time to pay some friends a visit tonight. He strapped himself in the passenger seat and slid into a nap, unwilling to talk to Khushi now that he was feeling so out of control. He didn’t know what he would do if he had the chance to do it and it was a risk he wasn’t ever willing to take.
He could feel Khushi’s concerned looks, until during a traffic jam, she slid over and covered his forehead with her palm, taking his temperature. “Your temperature is up Arnav,” she said worriedly and he thought, you’ve got no idea baby, and nearly bit his tongue off, appalled. “We should probably go home so that you could rest today,” and he nodded, feigning an exhaustion he didn’t feel. Khushi smiled and withdrew her hand, taking his words as gospel, he thought viciously. How can someone so innocent.. so naive live in this world? Someone like her who had the one closest to her acting like a perverted bastard around her? She smiled, a brilliant flash of white, “Good, then we will sleep in tomorrow. Are you going to go out tonight?” Arnav nearly groaned at the image she inadvertently drew for him and said, “Yes, yes I have to. An important meeting Khushi. I might be a little late. Don’t wait up,” she nodded with a smile. Yeah, he thought bitterly, the important meeting he was telling her about couldn’t happen fast enough to suit him today.
By the time they had returned home to Kurla, the temperature had suddenly picked up. A sudden rise, almost to the forties. It was as if the city chose to reflect his sudden physical state, Arnav thought wryly as they climbed into the elevator to go to the fifteenth floor where their apartment was at. He could feel her fidgeting in the heat, and saw droplets of sweat slowly rolling down her neck, into the shadowed valleys of her breasts, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. How he would like to chase it with his tongue. Use it as a chaser for a tequila shot. Arnav could almost taste the salt of her skin. He could... Fuck it, they were in a bloody elevator. Not now, he begged to himself. Not now. The pearls around her throat... he couldn’t wait to wrap his fingers around them. Twisting them, pulling her towards him with them as his leverage. Plundering that rosy glistening... The ding! of the elevator couldn’t come fast enough to suit him and if Khushi found him strangely skittish on their way into the apartment, she didn’t say. Maybe it was all in his head. He had just turned on the cooler and settled into the slouchy leather couch in front of the Idiot Box with a peg of malt scotch when she had come in. To beat the heat, she had worn a Matisse’s painting inspired Cami in mauve and moss green with flecks of gold and blue with a tiny fatigue printed shorts. If she was wearing a bra under that flimsy thing, Arnav thought, swallowing as he watched a subtle bounce with her steps, he’d eat his tie. What was happening to him today? He thought, throwing his head back, eyes closed, these thoughts... they had never happened before. Was there something in Mumbai’s air? He closed his eyes and cursed when she smiled that wide, open smile of hers and settled in next to him, content to watch a movie while he mused introspectively. A habit of a lifetime. What had changed now? She tucked her bare feet under her, leaning against his shoulder as a Hollywood thriller started, and he saw a flash of ruby on her toenails. Swallowed. Swallowed again. How was he supposed to last until his friend was free this evening?
He was reciting accounting formulas in his head, and almost had his body back in control when in the half light of the evening, the love scenes started and Arnav realized that until then, he hadn’t really watched the movie - not at all. The nameless man caressed the woman’s face, stroking, while he slowly slid the zipper down, and the silk slithered down. She stepped out of it, eyes on him. The song started, as soundtracks were meant to, to enhance the mood. Except, his ears were tuned to the haunting song, stroking his fire with the white hot poker of the drugging lyrics.
One night to be confused
One night to speed up truth
We had a promise made
Four hands and then away
Both under influence
We had divine scent
To know what to say
Mind is a razor blade
Arnav looked at her, watching her fidget, just a little, sliding a little closer to him, almost unconsciously, eyes glued on the tv. Had her breathing sped up, or was it his imagination alone? He took a slug from his glass and noticed that it was nearly empty. His excuse to get up. Plus, he really needed that drink. The man was kissing his woman while she tore at the buttons of his shirt. Running the fingers over his back, his chest while his teeth nipped at her neck. Explored her back.
To call for hands of above
To lean on
Wouldn't be good enough
For me, no
One night of magic rush
The start a simple touch
One night to push and scream
And then relief
He got up and poured himself some whiskey this time, about three pegs of it and when she looked at him with those eyes, wondering, confused; he sat down beside her again, something he really wasn’t planning on doing. Her eyes were dilated, and her breathing had picked up while the faceless man touched his woman on the tv, loving her. He could feel Khushi watching him, what was she thinking? Did she realize... understand the thoughts running through his mind? Arnav almost shuddered, his arousal gone. As if he had been suddenly, forcefully soaked into a tub of ice. God! What was he thinking? What the fuck are you thinking you degenerate bastard?
And you, you knew the hands of the devil
And you, kept us awake with wolf teeth
Sharing different heartbeats
In one night
To call for hands of above
To lean on
Wouldn't be good enough
For me, no
It was over, just as quick - the Hollywood’s use of the dissolve handling the more difficult aspects of lovemaking and as a scene it had been a lot tamer than many of the racy films that they had watched together nonchalantly. However this tame scene had affected him, something had happened while watching it. Something had changed in their basic chemistry and Arnav wasn’t sure how he could ever change it back. He got up with a mumbled excuse and walked into his room, slamming his door shut. A quick shower later, he had been ready to go out and meet Sreya. She would make time for him now, he knew. He didn’t like powerplay but sometimes, it was a necessity. The model in question would want to stay in his good graces, choosing being amenable over playing hard to get and losing his interest. He knew that enough about women like him. It was, after all, the way of the world. He waved bye to Khushi who was on phone with someone, and fished out his car key from the drawer on the sideboard. Arnav left the house, fast, as if the hounds of hell was after him - fearing that they were.
He drove, trying to put those moments of insanity behind him. Trying to forget. Trying to breath. It was as if the car’s interior was closing around him, the want wrapping itself around his skin. Stifling him. Burning him. Trying to... awww fuck. Arnav closed his eyes, even as he sped up the car and decided to hear a song at random. Something loud, something crazy - something that would stop the blood in body from feeling like it’s been heated, thickened with honey. Something that would get the thought of her with her honeyed silk limbs, silky hair and big eyes with ripe swollen mouth out of his head. His hands shook as he pulled over with a jerk and lit a cigarette, his first in months. Sometimes you just suppressed one craving with another. He took a long drag, welcoming the acrid taste of nicotine and sighed, then turned on the radio on random and grinned, song from his teen years had come on. Guns N’ Roses. He could still remember hearing them on his walkman after the lights were out at the dorm. In classrooms. In the library. There had been very little to do at the drafty keep of his boys’ boarding school at Scotland. Music had been it.
I used to love her, but I had to kill her
I used to love her, but I had to kill her
I had to put her, six feet under, and I can still hear her complain
I used to love her, but I had to kill her
Di absolutely hated the song, he remembered, with a soft smile. Demeaning, she would groan. Disgusting she’d throw in, while passing his room at the Sheesh Mahal, and all the while, Arnav would just increase the volume. It was an internationally understood treatise that siblings (especially younger ones) would put their hearts and souls into disturbing the peace of the elder ones. Just for the thrill. Anjali, being the naive nitwit she was, he thought affectionately, was doubly more fun to annoy.
I used to love her, but I had to kill her
I knew I'd miss her, so I had to keep her
She's buried right in my backyard
All he had to do was make sure that these lines would burst through his stereo every time Di would pass his doorway and then, he would lay back and enjoy his sister lose her temper over the lyrics. Arnav would cackle while she would be off, complaining to Ma about the disturbing lyrics he was prone to listening. Ma had always shrugged it off, preferring to stay out of the siblings squabbles. Arnav often wondered what she would have done had he made her listen to Black Sabbath, Dark Throne, Bathory or Opeth. He threw his head back, driving. Lost in the memories. Lost in the past. Music, he thought, had a strange magic of time travelling. It often did that to you.
I used to love her, but I had to kill her
I used to love her, but I had to kill her
She bitched so much. She drove me nuts, and now I'm happier this way
I used to love her, but I had to kill her, and I can still hear her complain
She had absolutely hated the song, and of course, it had given Arnav all the more reasons to love it. What had happened? Arnav thought suddenly, bile rising to his throat. What had happened to his sister? Where had she gone? Was she still living as he hoped, everyday? Or had that naive young girl, who was even younger than Khushi was now gone on to join their mother? Sometimes, in the darkest of the nights Arnav hoped that it was the latter. It may sound cruel but it tore at him thinking what her alternative may have been. That if she was there still, what tortures she might have gone through in the past 11 years. It wasn’t as if Arnav hadn’t tried to find her. It was as if, for better or worse, Anjali Malek had disappeared off the face of the planet after that fateful night. He sighed, wondering, why today of all day was he thinking about her. The emotions had churned him up, Arnav decided, even as he drove faster than usual, chucking the still smouldering cigarette out of the window. Sreya better be ready, he thought lips twisted - one inferior fix to beat a bigger addiction. If the rehabs could prescribe it, so could he.
If they had ever shared a stranger moment, Khushi couldn’t think of it. They were watching some hollywood thriller or the other and Arnav had been uncharacteristically quiet. Well, he was generally a quiet man but this was... unnerving. He had just sat there, drinking steadily, instead of snuggling comfortably next to her as he usually did. Arnav hadn’t commented or catcalled on the film, as he usually would have - only around her. The love making scene, as mild as it was, seemed to have made him quieter. He had gotten up and poured himself more drink, spine ramrod straight. There had been an unknown quality in the air, and Khushi’s body had broken out in goosebumps. Her heartbeat had quickened. Why? Then, he had left for his meeting in a hurry, leaving Khushi with a free evening to herself. Alone in a strange city. She sighed. Maybe.. maybe she would go out for dinner. If it didn’t do anything, it would give her a chance to dress up and go about the town. That might work in cheering her up, if nothing else.
Shyam had been nursing his Jamaican Blue Mountain java, reading a book at the Cafe Basilico in Bandra. If you had asked him why he wasn’t home eating the delicious fare his perfect wife had arranged for him, he would probably laughingly shrug it off. Inwards though, he’d be thinking about how that seeming perfection was choking him. Anjali... he shook his head despairingly. Wasn’t it strange how events repeat themselves? His mother had thrown herself body and soul into socialization to escape his father’s antipathy. Anjali had thrown herself at religion to escape him. The endless vraats, the poojas. Was it the Jha men then? Was there a curse in there somewhere that they ended up destroying all the women they touched? The women they were meant to protect. Would Anjali too take the way out his mother had? Shyam tilted his head back, eyes closed for a second, trying to shut that image out - His mother, burning silently, Anjali’s face superimposed on hers. It was a regular nightmare nowadays and strangely enough, Shyam saw no way out of it anymore. He tried to concentrate on the book he was reading, River of Smoke by Amitav Ghosh on the opium trade. He had read the first book of the trilogy - Sea of Poppies, and was happy to say - the second was just as enthralling. Only if he could concentrate on what he was reading a bit more, keep the nightmares at bay!
“an instance when Fate had conspired with Nature to give them a sign that theirs was no ordinary journey.” quoted a laughing husky voice and as Shyam looked up, he saw that the voice matched the persona. She wasn’t very tall, but what was there of it, was golden. He admired, without lusting the beautiful woman standing in front of him. She had worn a slightly off-shoulder, purple, navy and fuchsia ombré Herve Leger dress with tonal banding and short sleeves. The dress was nipped in at the waist and fell just above her knees. She had silver heels on - Cody D’Orsay, he thought, smiling slightly recalling his Rani Sahiba’s favourites were the same. “Not many can quote a defining line of an almost new book, I am impressed Ms.?” he ended the sentence as a question. “Khushi Kumari Gupta. I am sorry, I shouldn’t have intruded. You seemed so determined to read the book, and it’s one of my favourites. Thought I’d help,” she laughed, little silver bells he thought, and remembered the ones that graced his Rani Sahiba’s feet. “Shyam Manohar Jha,” he said extending his hand - proper, olde world and Khushi appreciated the gesture. He noted her extending hers, touching his fingers. Proper again. Stacked bangles clinking on her narrow wrist. They both understood each other at that moment. Whatever the man was doing alone in the cafe, he wasn’t there to pick up women, Khushi knew unerringly. Shyam knew that this girl wasn’t looking for anything beyond a companion for a lonely dinner and somehow, he could use one of those. “Would you join me for dinner Ms. Gupta?” he asked gravely, but that brilliant smile slipped through, lighting up his face, dazzling her a little. Oh my, she thought and grinned, lucky wife! “Thank you Mr. Jha, I confess I wasn’t really looking forward to a lonely dinner again”. Shyam gravely inclined his head towards the younger woman and they started talking - fictions; some they agreed on, some they didn’t. Music. Food.
“What is it that you do Ms. Gupta?” he asked and she extended her card, “I am sorry!” she laughed, “How remiss of me. I am the Director of Operations at AR Group of Industries. I am here to oversee the Raizada Royale Mumbai being built,” and Shyam nodded “Ah, yes, I believe we had gotten an invite for it, Naivedyam is being incorporated into it, isn’t it? My wife and I are a big fan of the one at Delhi. We’ve been once.” he added. Khushi narrowed her eyes, not that many invites had been sent out for an early RSVP and the ones that were, had been very exclusive. Shyam Jha. Shyam Manohar Jha? She smiled, “Manohar Jewellers; I am sorry, I hadn’t made the connection.” He smiled, “That’s fine Ms. Gupta, I am just a figurehead there, really. I am actually an attorney and have my own firm. That’s my day-job,” he smiled again, the glamour of the smile overtaking his narrow, almost poetic face. The grey hair sprinkled in the pelt of coal had just added to the attraction of that face and Khushi smiled appreciatively. Mrs. Jha was a lucky woman. She had noticed that not once throughout the evening had Mr. Jha’s eyes strayed and he constantly fiddled with his wedding ring, as if to tell everyone around that she’s on his mind. Khushi sipped her Strawberry Peach cooler and sighed inwardly, if only Arnav... she shook her head to clear the straying thought and smiled brightly, “Well Mr. Jha? Dessert? What do you recommend? I warn you, I am a girl with one hell of a sweet-tooth!” Shyam inclined his head again, with a small, indulgent smile. “Yes, I figured that out having dined at Naivedyam. Wonderful restaurant. For you Ms. Gupta, I would suggest a slice of the chocolate walnut pie and a slice of the chocolate terrine,” he said smiling. Khushi laughed out loud, the lawyer had her pegged.
Her phone rang. Arnav. “Khushi, where are you?” he demanded brusquely. “Out for dinner at the Basilico Arnav,” she said quietly and almost heard him take a mental step back. “Wait for me, I’ll pick you up in five, I’m nearby” was all he said before he hung up. “Boyfriend?” asked Shyam gently. She nodded negative, “No, my boss and former guardian. It’s a complicated relationship,” she said, and he smiled, “Aren’t they all?” thinking about his own. Khushi shovelled through her dessert, while she saw him ask for a take-away Philadelphia Baked Cheesecake. “That’s Arnav’s favourite!” she blurted out, and then blinked, surprised having said something that personal. He smiled again, “It’s my wife’s favourite as well,” and they stood up, Shyam having insisted to pay the bill.
Arnav stepped back into their Apartment quietly closing the door behind him. He was exhausted. But... not satisfied. Sreya had been... good. He had been unusually demanding tonight, he thought- but... He sighed- wishing he could smoke some more. But Khushi would have his head if she found out. He looked around then, speaking of Khushi... he checked his watch, 10.00 pm. Why was the flat so quiet? Had she gone to bed? So early? Well she must have been tired, being all that glamorous and... feminine, he thought viciously.
But he ought to check on her. She had been working hard on the Mumbai Royale after all. And this time she was in for double the work. Stubborn girl wouldn’t let him take some responsibility for the Naivedyam launch. Of course, keeping her busy and well away from the thoughts of Smoky Singhania had been his objective... but he didn’t want her to fall ill because of overwork!
Sighing and shaking his head, he quietly walked to her bedroom- turning the knob and opening the door a crack. Slowly peeping in. His eyes traveled around the room. she was neat, his Khushi. everything placed meticulously in its assigned place. Files neatly arranged on the desk near the window, pens and pencils arranged in the holder, laptop kept on top of one of the files, charging... chair neatly placed- perfectly aligned with the table edge, bed perfectly made- not a crease in sight... he stopped. Why was she not in bed? He rolled his eyes at how old he sounded even to himself. But she was not in bed! where was she? She hadn’t told him about any plans for tonight! Had she? Had he not heard her, perhaps? She would tell him wouldn’t she? Had he been so immersed in his perverted thoughts that he hadn’t heard her...? No. No, he would have heard her- she had been sitting right next to him all afternoon- and it was not like he was... unaware of her was it? In fact, he had been hyper aware of her! Hadn’t that been the reason for his... activities with Sreya? He stopped. Had she asked him about his plans, so she could make hers without him knowing about them? Had Singhania dropped into Mumbai too? Had they been... engaged in the same activities he had been at all evening? No! No! He groaned, his anger on a steady rise. Why was this girl so hell bent on driving him out of his mind lately?
No. NK Singhania was not coming near her, Arnav was going to make sure of that. He stomped out to the Living Room, angrily snatching his phone up and punching her number in. If he found out that Khushi had been making Dinner plans with NK behind his back again... He stopped. What would he do really? His thumb stopped. hovering over the call button. She was a grown up woman, after all. Sure they were family, but could he really stop her from... dating Singhania? Sure, he could! She was his responsibility! And she would very well have to listen to him. He knew what was good for her- and Singhania did not come in that list. So, yes- he was going to stop her- forbid her if he had to- from meeting with that no-good idiot. Because he wasn’t going to let her get hurt. She was meant to be happy all her life- cherished and taken care of, and he bloody well would make sure that that is what happened. Arnav knew he was being irrational, but at that point he didn’t really give a shit. He pressed the call button and held the phone to his ear- sighing in relief as he heard her phone ring. She was not... unavailable. She picked up at the third ring. Another sigh of relief.
“Khushi where are you?” he snapped at her, hoping to high heavens that she was somewhere... innocent. He closed his eyes. “Out for Dinner at the Basilico, Arnav.” His eyes snapped open. She was at Dinner. Dinner. Nothing more... just.... simple Dinner. He almost stumbled over with a wave of relief washing over him. “Wait for me, I’ll pick you up in five, I’m nearby.” he said, and hung up. She was at Dinner. Now he just had to make sure that NK was nowhere near her. He snatched up his car keys and almost ran out. Hurriedly getting in the car and driving off.
He reached the place in under five minutes. There she was, wearing a... he swallowed. Why had she taken to wearing clothes like that? What was wrong with her? He could see Men walking past, ogling her- turning back just to look at her. What was she planning on doing- forming a Mumbai Khushi Kumari Gupta fanclub? He frowned. beads of sweat popping up on his forehead as she raised her hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, a bright smile gracing her face, the creamy skin peeping out of the off shoulder dress attracting attention like a dancing flame on a dark night. He watched even as she turned to someone beside her- his jaw clenched in anger as he saw that it was a man- and laughed at something he said. The tinkling sound of bells that was her laughter momentarily distracting him from the anger he felt towards the lucky bastard standing beside her. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out if he recognized the person beside her.
Dark, Tall... coal black thick mane of hair, dressed in formals, a book clutched in his hand... that was not NK. He sighed with relief again. But then, he was back on guard. Had Khushi moved on to someone else? His jaw clenched again, nostrils flared, he stepped out of the car, and strode towards them. The man looked... older. Even older than him. Arnav could make out a few strands of grey in his hair. He groaned. Older men Khushi, Really? Why was she doing this? He was married probably! Divorced, even! Looking for younger, newer arm candies... Arnav shuddered. Khushi was a foolish, foolish girl. He quickened his steps. he would have to keep her away from getting into this trouble... was the girl mad? What was wrong with younger men? The man seemed like he was in his late thirties for fuck’s sake! Khushi was only twenty four!
“Khushi!” he called out, as he neared them, and she turned towards him- dazzling him momentarily with her brilliant smile. “Arnav!” he stepped up to her and discreetly a put an arm around her... bare... shoulders. He saw the man’s black eyes glinting amusedly as he noted this, and Arnav almost scowled. Damn the bastard!
Khushi, oblivious to the silent stare down going on between the men, smiled up at Arnav and started introducing her new friend to him. “Arnav, Meet Mr. Shyam Manohar Jha.” Arnav’s eyes narrowed. Where had he heard that name before? “He’s a very charming Dinner companion to have,” she bubbled, happily and Mr. Jha inclined his head towards her- also smiling. Arnav snorted almost in derision. Well, would you look at that smile! A practiced charmer are you Mr. Jha? well, he wasn’t going to be charming Khushi as long as Arnav was there!
He smiled back, and extended his hand. “Arnav Singh Raizada.” he said. and Jha smiled politely at him, “Pleasure, Mr. Raizada.” Arnav nodded, brusquely. “Arnav, Mr. Jha here likes Naivedyam a lot. Or so he says,” she said, rolling her eyes, and Jha chuckled. “I’ve invited him and his wife to the launch next week.” Arnav relaxed. Wife, did she say? Arnav smiled down at her, this time- a real, warm smile. “We would love to see you there, Mr. Jha.” he said, genuinely. The man wasn’t a pervert. A good man... Shyam Manohar Jha. Then the memory struck him. “Manohar Jewellers,” he said, remembering Ma talking about them all those years ago, as she had bought jewellery for Di’s wedding. He remembered Di’s glowing face as she admired a beautiful Emerald set as she gushed about how it matched her jora perfectly... He knew where he’d seen this man before. It had been that horrible day eleven years ago... the day he’d lost his world... He swallowed the lump in his throat, and his arm tightened imperceptible around Khushi. The man was smiling and nodding, saying something to Khushi as she laughed and bade him farewell, telling him that she would be expecting him next week.
She turned towards him, and the smile slid off her face. “Arnav?” her voice was alarmed. She felt his forehead, and her eyes widened. “Arnav, honey why have you gone so pale? Do you not feel well? Did you take your medicines?” she asked worriedly. Clucking her tongue when he didn’t answer. He felt cold, clammy. As if he couldn’t breathe. She led him to the car by his hand, making him sit in the passenger seat. He leaned his head back, a hand coming up to wipe at his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he tried to avoid the onslaught of memories. It was she who buckled him in, this time, he closed his eyes as tears threatened to blur them. He didn’t even know when she started the car and sped back towards home.
Arnav ran down towards the courtyard as fast as he could. Rage burning through him. What were the bastards thinking? He wouldn’t spare them! He swore to god, he would kill them if they so much as looked at Di. What was Pa thinking? He hadn’t known his hatred for Di extended to such limits! He had almost reached the doors when he felt a hand yank him back.
“Where are you going Arnav?” Chacha. He turned around, his eyes fiery. “Where. Is. Di?” he growled, and his Uncle tsked, mockingly.
“Really now, Is that any way to talk to your Chachaji, Chottey?”
Arnav lost all control. Throwing himself at the balding man standing in front of him, he roared. “Where is she you Bastard!” Only, he was pulled back mid-air, by two strong pair of hands, even as he struggled free himself. His Uncle’s eyes were cold, calculating. And his next words, froze Arnav’s blood.
“Finish him. He’s not needed.”
And he strode away. Leaving Arnav at the mercy of seemingly bloodthirsty Men, who took particular pleasure in ensuring that they dealt him a painful death. Oh, he tried to fight back... for quite some time. They dragged him upstairs, kicking and punching, struggling with all his might... and dumped him inside his room. And then, they got to work on him. He could literally feel every muscle in his body clamping down on itself- ever bone shattering. He had just stopped fighting back, lying on his back, on the ground- wishing for a quick death- praying that he didn’t have to endure anymore of this- when he heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. It ripped through the air, numbing his mind. The men stopped. Looked around at each other- and fled the room- locking it behind them- leaving him there despairing- waiting for death.
He didn’t know how long he was lying there, didn’t care really, when he heard it. The slight whisper of footsteps. as if someone was walking stealthily. he opened his swollen eye- as much as he could, really. And what he saw nearly made him jump and sit up- fear and relief, in equal measures, running through him.
She shushed him frantically as she looked around. He watched as she tip toed to the door, and bent down, peeping through the foot of the door, trying to see if anyone was out there. She came back and lightly touched his face and arms, her eyes filling with tears. She helped him sit up, and pointed towards the window- answering his silent question.
She ran around the room then, pulling sheets off the bed, tearing them, tying the torn ends together... Arnav slowly and painstakingly sat up. Confused and yet quietly watching what she did. She ran to the window, looking down, biting her lip- running to the closet and pulling more sheets out- tearing them apart. He was just about to ask her if she’d gone mad, when she smiled triumphantly- letting the rope-like thing she’d made out of the sheets down through his window. And then it struck him- she was making a way out for them. They were going to escape through the window. If he hadn’t just been in such a terrible predicament and beaten to almost death by his own Uncle- Arnav would have laughed at the utter filminess of her actions. She quietly gestured him to slide out the window- but he shook his head. Trying and failing to get up from his painful slouch on the floor. She rushed to him, Grabbing him under his arms and supporting his weight on her small body, helping him get up- and aiding him to walk to the window.
“Arnav, slide down the sheets, but carefully, please.” she whispered, and he had to marvel at the courage this little girl was showing. He nodded and slung his leg over the sill, wincing in pain, but not stopping. There was no time for self pity right now. He had made it to the second sheet when he realized that she was not following him. He looked up, panicked. Had those men captured her? He was just about to climb up again when a white box fell past him, startling him a little. He looked up and saw her climbing down the pipe, slinging herself over the stone kadappa just beneath the second storey window, clutching onto some stone again- before clutching the pipe again. “Arnav!” she hissed, as she came to his level. “Move, fast!”
He nodded, and slid down the rest of the way- his eyes fixed worriedly on the nimble monkey-girl climbing down the wall beside him. He touched the ground right after her, and sank to his knees- exhausted already. She wouldn’t have it though. She snatched up the, what he now saw was a First aid box with his wallet stuffed in it from the ground and grabbed his arm. Trying to drag him away from the window. “Arnav. Come on. They’re coming.” She whispered, and he noticed the tremble in her voice. Lending him the non-existent strength he needed to get back on his feet. They grabbed hands and ran, as fast as their feet could carry them, across the grounds. They had just stepped into the Rose Garden, when he heard his Uncle’s shout. “Get Them!”
He cursed. they would never be able to outrun those savages. So he pulled her back. Running back, dragging her protesting self with him, as he made his way around the house and shoved her into Hari Prakash’s deserted kitchen. She had just opened her mouth to ask him just what he thought he was doing, when he pulled her behind the scullery door. “Sssshh. Khushi. Listen. They would have caught us if we ran out of the Mahal, quite easily.” she closed her mouth, her eyes wide- afraid. He shook his head, and explained further. “Unhone hume bahar jaate hue dekh liya tha. Toh ab wo sab bahar dhundenge. Aur logo ko ikattha karenge aur poora shahar cchaan marenge. Sab jagah dhundenge, par ghar mein nahi dhundenge.” She smiled slightly, as she got what he was trying to say. It was a brilliant and simple plan after all. “So now, we’ll wait till all of them are out- and when it’s dark, we’ll go to the other side of the Railway station, okay?” She smiled and nodded. He sighed and winced again, as he let himself fall back against the wall. closing his eyes- as the horror of the day threatened to descend on him. He shook his head. No. he couldn’t let himself grieve. Not yet. He needed to get them away from this hell-hole first. He froze. What was he going to do about the money? They wouldn’t be able to sustain for long on the amount that he had in his wallet. Ma’s safe room. It was as if someone had whispered it in his ear. Yes. He knew the combinations. He could easily get some gold out from there. Maybe.... maybe his Ma was alright. Maybe they could all leave together. He looked down at Khushi and nudged her- he motioned her to come closer when she looked up at him. “Khushi, we need to get to Ma’s safe room on the first floor.” he whispered and her eyes widened, comprehension dawning on her, as to why they needed to get there. She nodded and they crept out- silently, hoping, wishing that they weren’t caught. They made it to the first floor without interruptions. Sighing with relief, he had just stepped into the safe room- when he heard curious keening sounds coming from the room next door. His heart jumped into his throat as he looked back. Only one word roaring through his mind. Ma!
He back-tracked, stumbling over his own feet, as he tried to rush quietly towards those sounds. Those horrible, horrible sounds. But when he pushed the door open by a crack- he stopped. His heart skipping a thousand beats, as bile rose up in his throat.
There he was. The spineless bastard that he’d called his father. And he was... he was clutching her to his chest... crying, sobbing, howling.
No. No!No! No! No! No! No! He shook his head, trying to close his eyes- turn away- anything but see that... see her. lying like that. Blood trickling down her face, lifeless, cold. He swallowed his tears- and stumbled back.
She was dead.
Ma.... Ma was dead.
“Arnav.” Khushi gasped, and he knew that she had seen them too. He wnated nothing more than to crumple to the ground and howl. To yell himself hoarse. But he couldn’t. NO, not now. Not yet. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the safe room- turning the lock and punching in the combinations. scooping out whatever his hands came in contact with- filling his pockets, hers, the first aid box... She handed him a small bag. and he pulled everything out again- filling the bag up with it.
He wiped away his tears, pulling her to himself, and sliding out of the room- never looking back- never allowing himself to look back on last time at the place where his Mother lay dead.
They crept back into Hari Prakash’s scullery, and they waited. They had waited till the dark descended and then as planned, they had made their way to the Paschim Lucknow station.... the Seventh platform. On the far side. They had left behind that hell-hole.... but they had also left his Ma and Di behind there...
He didn’t know when she had brought him into the apartment, but when he came back to his senses, she was bustling about- making soup for him, occasionally coming over to feel his forehead. He looked around. He was sitting in the kitchen. His hands were trembling- his mind still not out of the clutches of that terrible memory. He looked up, his eyes stinging as she put the bowl in front of him, and held a spoon to his mouth, her big hazel eyes worried, and he opened up. Relief and warmth coursing through him for the first time that day, as her soup made its way down his throat. She fed him the whole thing- and he ate, without protest. He needed her tonight. He needed her with him. She stood up, and he immediately put his arms around her waist. Burying his head in her stomach- not wanting her to see him crying and yet- needing her special brand of reassurance, her presence around him.
If she was surprised, she didn’t let on. She held his his head against her gently, her hands combing through his unruly hair, her fingers working a soothing rhythm on his scalp- making him relax. She made him stand up- silently, grabbing his hand and dragging him to his bedroom- helping him get into bed, tucking him in. And he allowed her. Silently. She kissed his forehead tenderly, murmuring a “Goodnight, Arnav.” and turned to leave, when he sat up, catching her hand. Tears finally brimming his eyes. He closed them, as she turned around.
“Arnav?” she exclaimed, and sat down beside him. He hugged her- almost crushed her to himself, and her hands automatically came up and around him. He buried his face in her shoulder, prompting her ask him again. “Baby?”
“Khushi?” he whispered, and she rubbed her hands down his back, soothingly, indicating that she was listening. “Stay with me Tonight.”
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