Jaane Doh Naa
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Black Beads
Khushi
grumbled incoherently as a loud knock echoed through the quiet apartment. She
grudgingly got out of bed, surprised to notice the bright sunlight filtering
through the windows. She was never the one to sleep past sunrise.
"Uff,"
she muttered, as her feet dragged themselves to the door. "First, that Laad
Governor who manages to annoy me even in my sleep now and second this-"
She
stopped short as she caught sight of the very Laad Governor in whose dreams she
was caught in for almost the whole night, standing at the door, a newspaper
folded in his hands. Even though he made it a habit to see her almost everyday,
she still couldn't help but be surprised.
"Er…
good morning," he greeted, when she continued to stand in the doorway, almost
gaping at him.
Khushi
shook her head, trying to snap out of what she was sure to be a dream. To her
disappointment, Arnav was still standing at the door when she allowed her eyes
to focus once again.
"You
won't invite me inside?" he asked, almost amused to see her disbelief.
Not
trusting herself to speak, she quickly stepped aside. However, before either of
them could say anything, a groggy voice interrupted the silence.
"Who
is it?" asked Ayesha, walking into the living room, rubbing her eyes. A robe
thrown loosely over her disheleved form, she appeared as if she just arrived
from hell. Her eyes, bloodshot and her hair unkempt, it was almost impossible
to believe it was the same Ayesha Kapoor, who made everyone tick.
As
soon as her eyes fell on the watchful Arnav, however, she froze on the spot, her insides suddenly
turning cold. She averted her eyes as shame spread through her veins as quickly
as a fire on wood, eating away the last signs of confidence she gathered before
getting out bed a few moments ago.
Arnav
turned to Khushi and said, "Why don't you make some tea?"
Khushi
appeared puzzled for a brief minute, before nodding and disappearing into the
kitchen. It was hard to miss the tension in the air.
Ayesha
on the other hand stood in silence, with her head bowed down, waiting for the
contempt which was sure to come and like the countless times before, hit her
harder than a whiplash. Only it didn't.
Arnav
slowly stepped towards her and held out the newspaper he brought with him.
Confused and partly curious, she took the paper shakily and almost dropped it
in shock, for most of the front page was covered by a photo of Nina and Nayan.
The headlines read:
Fall from Glory?
Nina
Rathore seems to be in the lime light for all the wrong reasons lately. After a
drastic drop in sales this past month, word has spread that her line of
clothing is soon going to be scrapped. If this is believed to be true, all we
can say is that it wouldn't be the first time that she had to start over.
However, the rumour mills this time around churned up a completely different
issue.
It
is a well known fact that the famous designer has been engaged with her fellow
business partner Nayan Dasgupta for a few of years now. Nina has widely
acknowledged Nayan's efforts in reviving her company, which faced a rather epic
closure only a month after its launch. However, it seems that the couple's
recipie for success has been falling a little short of the mark lately, for
many companies including AR Designs,
with who they shared a very good rapport for three years, have moved on to
other designers. While this was believed to be a temporary recession for Nina,
quite like the one the stock market experiences, a little birdie late last
night, has informed us otherwise.
"We
ended our contract with Nina & Co.
because we received news of plagiarism," said Aman Mathur, a spokesperson of AR
Designs. "Had we known earlier, we would
never have even struck a deal with them." It's quite shocking that the
acclaimed designer has resorted to such lengths to keep her position in the
competitive world of fashion. Following this bold statement, Aman further added
that, "This in fact has been happening for quite some time now. We are just
glad that we realized it before we
renewed our contract for another year."
This
is not the first time Nina & Co. has been accused of stealing. Ironically,
it was in their first ever success party, hosted by AR Designs, that Nayan was unceremoniously slapped by
a nameless woman, who disappeared before a further justification could be
obtained. Both Nina and Nayan were seen later that night, claiming that entire
stunt was an act of publicity to simply snatch their glory. And yet, it somehow
doesn't seem to be a stunt anymore. Upon asking if that anonymous person was
indeed the one from who Nina and Nayan plagiarised, Aman answered, "I
unfortunately cannot reveal their name."
Meanwhile,
Nina Rathore denies all of these accusations on her company. "I have no idea
what you guys are talking about," she told us early this morning. "If AR Designs are claiming something, then I suggest you
go talk to them." While this cutting reply was not unexpected, it nevertheless
makes many wonder if the allegations are indeed true. As they say, there isn't
any smoke without fire. On the other hand, Arnav Singh Raizada… continued
on pg 6.
Ayesha
stared at the newspaper in complete disbelief. Her eyes travelled down the narrow
columns once again, checking if she was indeed reading the truth. She
wordlessly looked up to see a smirk on Arnav's face.
"TEA!"
Khushi called.
Having
no other choice, the two made their way to the dining room to see Khushi
setting a plate of biscuits on the table.
Upon
seeing them approach she said, "Poha is almost done… I thought you might be
hungry after…" she paused taking a quick glance at Ayesha, before vanishing
into the kitchen once again.
Arnav
sat comfortably at the table, pulling the teapot towards himself.
"Let
me," Ayesha interjected quietly, her voice rough. The sudden news still
drilling a dent in her thoughts, she didn't notice the vigourous shaking of her
hands – a token from the numerous shots of vodka the previous night – as she
poured the tea into the cup. And just as she was about to hand it to a patient
Arnav, her fingers finally gave away and the cup shattered, splashing its
contents everywhere.
Ayesha
appeared horrified as she saw a brown stain spreading through Arnav's perfectly ironed white shirt. Her gaze
flickered to his, expecting retribution for her carelessness.
Surprisingly,
however, he appeared very calm. "Relax," he said, watching her face pale. "It's
not the first time this happened... Where is the bathroom?"
Ayesha
pointed to the hallway leading to the two bedrooms of the apartment. Smiling at
what she assumed to be the incident of the past, he swiftly got up and left.
* * *
Khushi
turned off the stove and served the poha
into a bowl. It was one of Ayesha's favourites and she desperately hoped that
the events of the previous nights would be swallowed away with the food.
As
she entered the dining room gingerly, she was quick to notice that Ayesha was
completely alone. "Where did he go?" she asked, missing the point that the Laad
Governor, who she desperately tried to push away until yesterday, seemed to do
nothing but occupy her thoughts for most, if not all, of the time.
Ayesha
didn't look up to see Khushi. She continued wiping the spilt tea and said, "I
dropped the tea on him… So, he went to the bathroom."
Khushi
nodded and set the tray on the table. "How-" She froze mid-sentence as she
suddenly realized where Arnav was, or rather could be.
"Where
did he go?" she repeated, a lot more urgently now. "I mean… which bathroom?
Yours or mine?"
Ayesha
failed to understand Khushi's panic over the matter, but knew better than to
ask. "Probably mine... Why?"
Khushi
didn't answer and rushed towards her room, praying that Ayesha's was right. But
when did the heavens ever listen to her?
She
walked into her bedroom to see Arnav standing infront of her wall-sized
cupboard, whose doors were thrown open. Hoping that it was not late, she asked
"What are you doing here?"
Arnav
turned around upon hearing her voice and that's when she realized that he was
shirtless. A towel draped around his neck, he looked absolutely breath taking
as small droplets of water streamed down his chest. Khushi's heart soared as
she almost felt her hands itching to touch the hard planes of his abdomen. No
doubt, he hit the gym atleast twice a week.
"What?"
he asked, when she remained dumb-struck at the door.
His
voice broke her thoughts as she averted her eyes from his. "Why looking through
my room?"
"I
was looking for a shirt."
Khushi
walked forward past his still figure to the open cupboard and said with her
back to him, "Well, I don't have anything that's your size."
"So
why don't you tell me where I can find one?"
She
didn't answer, and quietly shuffled through a few drawers in the cupboard, her
back hiding her hands from view. She frozen upon feeling his breath on the nape
of her neck.
"Silence
is not an answer Khushi," he whispered in her ear.
Khushi
felt a shiver run through her as she felt his presence. Her heartbeat suddenly
quickened as small bits of colour flooded her cheeks.
She
cleared her throat, hoping he didn't catch her internal turmoil. "I don't
know," she answered. "Now can you please go?"
Arnav
reluctantly took a step back, but didn't leave the room. Instead, he continued
to watch her trying to shield him from seeing what she was doing. It was very
pointless, however, for he didn't need to look to know what went on in her
mind.
"What
are you looking for?" he asked finally.
Khushi
stopped her search, but didn't turn to look at him. "Nothing… and how do you
know that I am looking for
something?"
Arnav
laughed. "Why else would open every single shelf?"
"Erm…
I'm tidying it up, okay?"
"Oh…
So, you are not looking for this?"
Khushi
whipped around to see him hold up her mangalsutra,
the only remaining symbol of their marriage, slightly swinging in the absent
wind. Her heart sank.
"Why?"
he asked, his tone direct. "I thought the marriage meant nothing to you."
"It doesn't. But that's mine."
A
line appeared on his forehead as he started searching the locket. "I don't see
your name on it," he concluded after a second.
Khushi
narrowed her eyes. "It's not funny," she retorted. "Give it back."
Arnav
stopped his examination. "Come and get
it," he said, holding out his hand, the mangulsutra
resting in his palm.
She
seemed to hesitate, no doubt remembering their past encounter, only that time
it was her engagement ring.
"What?"
he asked. "You don't trust me?"
No!
Her
mind wanted to scream out the answer at him, and yet her lips were sealed shut.
Seeing her silent form, Arnav began to walk forward, covering the distance he
placed between them not too long ago.
Upon
feeling her heart race once again, she nervous edged back, until she was
pressed right against the cupboard and he was less than a inch from her. She
gulped, hoping the thunder of her heart was inaudible.
However,
she had a distinct feeling that he could hear it, just like how he heard
everything and anything her mind uttered. The smile lingering on his face, he
inched forward, his breath gently fanning her face.
"Stop,"
she said, instinctively placing her hand on his bare chest. She felt a jolt run
through her arm, as she felt the smooth muscle under her fingers.
"Not
until you tell me why you still have this," he replied, a small grin touching
his face.
"Because
I just do… I brought it by accident and I just kept it since then… okay?"
"Fine,"
he said, looking into her eyes. There was no mischief or humour in his eyes,
only a seriousness that seemd to touch her somewhere deep. "Then I will take it back."
"No!"
The word slipped from her mouth even before she acknowledged it. "I mean… what
will you do with mangulsutra?"
"I gave it you," he reminded. "I made you
wear it in the mandir that day… so, now when you are not my wife anymore, I
have full rights to take it back. Unless you are telling me…"
He
didn't need to finish. Khushi stared at him, struggling to give a reply.
"Your
silence tells me everything," he whispered.
Khushi
took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She had no intentions of falling
prey to his charms. "But it didn't tell you," she said coldly. "That finding a
mangulsutra doesn't mean anything… because a marriage is made on trust, not on
a piece of jewellry. So you can take it back, if that convinces you that we
really are over Mr. Raizada. That marriage was a contract, which concluded two
years ago."
She
gave one last look at him and squeezed herself past the cupboard to the door.
"Wait,"
he called, making her stop in her tracks. He walked up to her and took her
hand. "On second thought," he continued, opening her palm and placing the black-beade
chain in it. "You should keep it, to remind you that even two years ago, you
belonged to me."
Khushi
gritted her teeth. "Look Mr. Raizada-"
"I
never stopped," he interrupted cheekily and as suddenly as it disappeared, his
smile resurfaced. "And I never will. Now
will you give me a shirt to wear or should I find it myself?"
Khushi
was appalled at his confidence and more so, irritated at his casualness.
"Wait!" she said, when he turned once again to the cupboard. "I will get it!"
She
walked to her cupboard and pulled out a large t-shirt she once acquired from a
promotional event and handed it to a smiling Arnav. "If it doesn't fit you,
then too bad."
Arnav
grinned and pulled the shirt over himself, which surprisingly wasn't too tight.
"The
door is that way," she said, pointing to the exit. She had no intention to let
him meddle through her things once again.
His
grin spreading wider, he headed to the living room. "Just so you know," he
called over his shoulder. "Whatever it is you are hiding, I will find out!"
And
with a small wink, he disappeared out of sight.
"Stupid
Laad Governor," she muttered, before carefully burying the mangulsutra deep in the cupboard, along with all the other
unsettling things in her life.
comment:
p_commentcount