Khushi woke up to the sound of Arnavji stirring beside her.
He had the strange habit of waking up a few minutes before the alarm. She had experimented with the settings and discovered that no matter what time the alarm was set for, he woke up before it.
And he thought she was ajeeb, Khushi humphed.
Clutching the sheets, she turned towards him and threw her arm across his chest.
"Morning" he mumbled, trying to sit up.
She snuggled closer, unwilling to let go of his warmth.
"Khushi, aaj tumhari catering company ke saath meeting hai" he said, gently stroking her arm. "Yaad hai na?"
"Mmm" she said, her voice drowned by the annoying sound of his alarm.
He turned it off and with a quick kiss on her forehead, shuffled out of bed.
She opened her eyes just long enough to enjoy the sight of him pulling on his boxers and heading for the bathroom.
In the last two months of living with him, Khushi had learnt more about him than she had in the year of knowing him before.
He was a creature of habit and she found herself getting sucked into his routine. To remedy that, anytime she felt that things were getting too monotonous, she threw a tantrum and it invariably ended with Arnavji indulging her with whatever crazy, spontaneous plan she came up with.
Most mornings he arose before her and made his famous adhrak chai. Khushi had discovered on the day after their wedding that among Arnavji's many talents was the ability to make incredible tea.
He confessed that a combination of distaste for American coffee and homesickness for Nani's chai had driven him to master the skill in his college days.
Some days he brought it to her in bed and on others, she would freshen up and waddle into the dining room for her morning tea.
On their first day in the apartment, Khushi had been too exhausted to pick their clothes off the floor and had walked into the kitchen with just the sheets wrapped around her.
He'd been pouring tea into two mugs and nearly dropped the milk pan. She would never forget the flash of desire in his eyes.
From then, she made it a point to dress only in bed sheets for morning tea and he always reacted the same way. She found it extremely gratifying to know that even after their extensive night time activities, in the morning she was still desired.
Carrying over the arrangement for their first marriage, as they jokingly called it now, Khushi showered first.
Arnavji spent the time either perusing the newspaper or going over presentations on his laptop to prepare for the work day ahead.
He showered after her while she fixed their breakfast.
Since re-starting her dabba service, Khushi didn't have time to prepare anything elaborate like at Shantivan. Arnavji had introduced her to breakfast cereals and even though she was against packaged foods on principle, most mornings she caved due to time constraints.
After breakfast they headed for work together, parting ways at the foyer of the AR building. He made his way to his first floor office and she to the cafeteria.
Khushi supervised Shuklaji's minions, sometimes going hands on for the satisfaction of cooking. By lunch time, she ensured that the dabbas for all AR employees were ready and marked with their names.
She took Arnavji's dabba to his cabin herself and on rare days, his highness would descend to the cafeteria to eat with her at one of the tables.
Post lunch, she spent a few hours going over accounts and records with Shuklaji after which she had the day to herself.
Depending on her mood, she either went shopping for groceries, visited Buaji or simply returned home.
On the days she was at Buaji's, Arnavji came to pick her up after work and they usually ended up staying for dinner. He tried to be home from work by 7pm each day but it didn't always happen.
Khushi insisted on waiting for him for dinner and only relented if there was any real work emergency holding him back.
They had also enforced a strict no work or work related talk policy after dinner.
Arnavji had taken it upon himself to prove to her that not all videshi khana was 'geela pusta'. And going straight for the kill, he took her to the best dessert places and ice cream parlors.
On the days they stayed home, there was always an argument on what to watch on TV. And even though she found it embarrassing to admit, whether they watched an English movie or a Hindi movie tended to depend on who wanted what from the other in'ahem, other activities.
In any case, if anyone had asked them about the endings of any of the movies they'd watched, neither of them would be able to answer.
It made her blush just thinking about it. Their love making had been explosive from the start and she didn't know if it was the novelty of it or their social isolation that drew them to each other with such magnetic force.
A small part of her feared that they were over compensating but anytime he came close to her with that look in his eyes, she didn't have the will power to question their motives.
She resigned herself to enjoying it while it lasted and hoping that it would last forever.
Other than Buaji and her parents, they saw Akash Jijaji at work almost everyday and she met up with Jiji a couple of times every week. The four of them had gone out to dinner two weeks ago to celebrate Jijaji's birthday.
But it was over two months since they'd seen or heard from any of the others in the family.
Her conscience pricking, she remembered that that wasn't strictly true. She didn't like keeping things from Arnavji but she simply couldn't bring herself to tell him that she'd seen Di at the mandir last week.
Surprised and overwhelmed, she'd almost ran upto Di before it struck her that Di might not want to see her. And that hurt so much that Khushi had hidden behind a pillar until Di finished her prayers and left.
She'd cried all evening and then lied when Arnavji asked what was wrong. He coaxed her into revealing that she'd gone to the temple and Khushi supposed he had guessed the rest, more or less.
Arnavji didn't like to talk about what happened. He tried not to mention them at all but his family had been such an important part of life all along that sometimes it just slipped out of him.
And with the wound no longer raw, the two of them had now reached a place where they could share a smile over anecdotes about Di, Naniji or Mamiji.
"Khushiji, jaldi kijiye" he said, stepping out of the bathroom and throwing the towel at her.
He did this every once in a while to remind her to stop calling him Arnavji. She had honestly made an effort but she was so used to calling him Arnavji that Arnav felt like someone else. She'd tried to explain this to him and also that it was alright for her to call him Arnavji because he was older than her. But he was stubborn about it and resorted to some fair and mostly unfair means to get her to say his name.
She'd slowly come to realize that for some reason, it turned him on.
Khushi got out of bed, throwing the towel back at him and headed for the bathroom.
On a whim, they'd decided to utilize their flight tickets to Bali the very day after their wedding. When they returned a week later, Arnavji had brought her straight from the airport to see the apartment Aman had shortlisted for them. Arnavji wanted her approval before making the payment.
"Hume bahut acha laga" she'd said, twirling in the living room like a little girl. "Hume yeh sab bahut acha lag raha hai"
"Kya?" he'd asked, wrapping his hands around her waist.
"Yehi, aap, main aur humari choti si duniya" she'd said, hugging him.
They moved in within a week after a simple gruhapravesh ceremony.
It was a penthouse suite in an upscale apartment complex. It wasn't large but very stylishly designed and Khushi had fallen in love with it at first sight.
The front door led into a raised platform with a sunken living room to the right and the kitchen cum dining area on the left. The Italian style kitchen had a small island in the centre and a counter with bar stools.
They'd chosen most of their furniture off a catalogue from a designer store owned by one of Arnavji's contacts. Some center pieces and corner tables that she had no understanding of were still in the process of being shipped.
He'd left the interiors entirely up to her and she prided herself for her own restraint in not going overboard. She'd tried her best to keep his tastes and preferences in mind as well. The only thing he'd really insisted upon was the wind chimes that now hung by the large French windows in the living room that led to a private terrace.
Their home was slowly shaping up into an eclectic mix of designer furniture with Chandni Chowk adornments.
It was a two bed-room apartment and sometimes when she saw the unused guest room, Khushi felt disheartened. Since Nanheji had returned to Sydney, they never had any guests staying over.
Closing the bathroom door behind her, Khushi caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the mirror.
Deciding that the sheets needed laundry, she hastily put on Anrvaji's shirt from last night before dumping the linen in the laundry bag.
On either side of the bathroom door were a set of wardrobes and dressers. His side was monochromatic and had a full-length mirror. Hers was brighter, more colorful and complete with an antique dressing table and stool.
Sometimes when they were running late and getting dressed together, they'd catch each other's eye in the apposing mirrors and on those days they would arrive at work even later.
On the other side of the queen size bed was Arnavji's study table to one corner and a pair of stuffy sofas with a coffee-table in between overlooking windows leading to a sit out.
For some reason, Arnavji was stalling on getting his garden started. The terrace area would be perfect for it but he seemed content with just a couple of plants in the sit out.
Khushi thought it would be nice to hang a cane swing out there but kept forgetting to mention it to him.
Walking into the dining area now, she found her mug of tea on the counter covered with a coaster to keep it hot.
It was always small things like this that set her off. It wasn't the tea in itself but the coaster that reminded her what a sensitive man her husband was.
Last month, he'd surprised her by planning a dinner with all her favorite foods and instead of the romantic evening he probably had in mind, he ended up handing her tissue after tissue as she wept for no particular reason.
After that disastrous outburst, Arnavji was slowly learning that there were some days in the month when he could safely ignore her unbidden tears, touchiness or hankering.
To mask her sudden sniffle, Khushi inhaled the spicy aroma of the tea.
Hanging up on a call, Arnavji said, "Guess what? Meri aaj ki meeting postpone ho gayi hai, I can come with you"
Khushi had to make an effort not to roll her eyes, "Hum jaanthe the, hume pehle se hi pata thi ki kuch na kuch zaroor hoga aur aapki meeting radh ho jaegi"
Shuklaji had been receiving requests to extend their dabba service to other offices in and around the AR building. When Arnavji found out, he put them in touch with a catering service that was going under and proposed they carry out something called a 'merger'.
While she was grateful for his help, she'd put her foot down when he tried to forge ahead with the deal himself. She wanted to do this on her own.
Relenting after several arguments, he'd prepped her continuously for the presentation all week.
"Look, main sirf tumhare saath aana chahtha hoon" he said, laying down the newspaper. "Saari details tum handle karna, I won't even say a word"
She eyed him suspiciously.
She didn't want to admit it to him but she was a tad nervous. And having him around for moral support sounded very tempting.
"Theek hai, lekin aap kisiko yeh bhi nahi bataenge ki aap Arnav Singh Raizada hai" she said.
"What the" he said, putting his mug down.
"Jee haan, agar aap humare saath aana chahthe hai toh aapko humari yeh shart maanni padegi" she said.
"Toh if someone asks ki main kaun hoon, what will you say?" he asked, standing up.
Biting her lip to keep from smiling, she said "Hum kahenge ki aap humare manager hain"
It was a miracle that the tea mug didn't slip out of her hands. He pulled her into his arms and said, "Manager, huh?"
"Arnavji" she protested, squirming to free herself.
"Manager?" he whispered, tightening his grip of her waist as he nuzzled her neck.
She was starting to feel tingly all over.
"Acha baba, theek hai" she said, placing soft kisses along his stubble. "Hum kahenge ki aap humare pati Arnav hain"
Her hunch about his name proved to be true when backing her into the kitchen island, he kissed her.
Fortunately, before things could spiral out of control, the door-bell went off.
With a groan, he let her go and said, "I'll get it"
Half-smiling and half-sighing, she sat down with her tea. It was probably for the best, they really couldn't afford to get late today.
On that morning, nearly two months after their second marriage, Khushi found herself still riding the tide of newlywed bliss. As she had rightly imagined, her world had indeed split into two parts. Only, they were two unequal parts.
Her life with Arnavji had expanded to take over so much that everything else was left at the fringes.
When he didn't return after a few seconds, Khushi put down her tea and peeped out of the dining room.
An old lady stood at the door, wiping her eyes with the ends of her saree.
Khushi stared for a few seconds to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.
"Naniji!" she cried.
And oblivious to her own disheveled state, Khushi ran into her arms almost knocking Naniji off her feet.
The promo was a perfect prompt for me to write something in my ishtyle! ...
Amidst the tumultuous storm of a high-stakes trial, Anushka Raisinghani, a ...
Comments (1)
View all
pakpearl @pakpearl
+ 2
2 years ago
khushi is missing family members.. Nani jee's entry...good ..