Chapter 25

 

Akash sat in his room, still mulling over everything his brother had written in the letter. His instincts had been right. His brother always had answers. Three hours back, when he first opened the letter, he had almost frozen to see there were not more than two lines written in the letter. It had been extremely bare and Akash didn't know what to make of it. Now that he came to think of it slowly, the underlying meaning bubbled over to the surface, making Akash smile with happiness.

 

He never understood some stuff or if you must call it, the miracles of God. Of course he did believe there was a divine power somewhere who kept a check on every individual walking on the surface of the earth, making sure their accounts were up to date. His grandmother always said that those who did good to others always remained in the favour of god. That Supreme Being somehow made sure that their lives were filled with showers of happiness and blessings. But looking at Arnav, he was forced to rethink. Arnav never harmed anyone. In deep, he always wished well for everyone, everything. Yet his life had been the most difficult of all the people he had seen. Riches and wealth and fame absolutely didn't count as blessings for Akash. It was that happiness, that was almost absent in the eyes of Arnav, that Akash gave importance to. He never saw that glimpse of bliss in Arnav. He never saw that joy, that feeling of being loved in the eyes of Arnav. They were cold, empty and sad. They appeared as pools of loneliness to him. It was as if the pain and isolation swirled in those gorgeous eyes, spreading their arms in a desperate hope of some companionship. Some trust, some love, some support. The one who stood by his siblings giving them advices on love didn't have someone to make him feel better. It was so ironical that it made Akash smile bitterly.

 

He looked at the letter again. His brother's handwriting was shabby, like some kind of war took place between the letters, each letter bent in a very strange manner making Akash wonder how the hell these formed joint writing. But it was Arnav and these things bound to happen with his weird brother. Anyway, the letter was short and at some point, it had been irritable because it hadn't made any sense to Akash until now.

 

At first Akash thought the letter to be really random and written in a hurry. Then his eyes fell on the lines if you trust your heart follow it. It doesn't have to eons for love to strike. He then understood the real meaning of his brother's words. Until now, Akash had never felt anything like this. He had always been very guarded with his feelings, not really making it dance for anyone that he had known. But on the day he had seen that girl his heart hadn't listened to him but had tap danced on the spot. That was enough to answer all his doubts. Somewhere in the back of his heart and mind, he knew he had made the right choice. Now all that was his job was to find the girl again and he was sure he would come across her very soon.

 

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Avantika wasn't going to the fashion show. She couldn't bring herself to do that either. The very thought of attending a posh, opulent event filled with people who had no care for others was enough a reason for Avantika to point blankly refuse Arnav's invitation even if it meant hurting him.

 

She had decided that she would visit Arnav after all the hustle bustle and craze of the fashion show was over. She wanted to meet him privately and have a warm mother son conversation which would definitely not be possible in the midst of a fashion show and honestly, Avantika didn't even have the slightest idea of what she would do there. It was clear to her that out of respect Arnav had sent her an invitation to the biggest event of his life. It was natural for him to feel the need of the presence of a motherly figure when he was about to enter one of the biggest phases of his life. He had done the same years back when he first laid the foundation of his passion as business. He had done the same when he was about to step into international market. He had done the same every time something major happened in his life but unfortunately Avantika hadn't been a part of any of it. She still preferred her solitary meetings with Arnav to the ones filled with people running left right and centre, confusing others as well as themselves. Arnav had understood that. He never badgered about her absence. He would personally come to meet her after all his professional commitments were taken care of. Sending invites was just his way of making sure Avantika knew about his growth as a businessman and most importantly as a person. She admired that fact most about him.

 

She sat in front of her desk and wrote a letter to her son. Letters always remained special to Arnav. No matter what expensive phone or technology he had, letter conversation was always preferred by him. It reminded him and made him nostalgic about the good old days he had spent here, writing nonsensical letters to his best friend every now and then and preserving it as though it were gold. Avantika still suspected or rather knew that Arnav still preserved those letters. Anything that connected him to his childhood friend was priceless to him. Another quality of him that Avantika admired the most. Arnav extremely valued relationships. He never betrayed those who were loyal to him. Behind that aloof nature hid a warmth, an affection that when once won was impossible to fade.

 

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Lavanya was too stunned to even utter a single coherent word as she stared at the package the airport authorities had just delivered to the AR guest house after their innumerable security checks and other nonsense. Here she was, in one of the AR guest houses, one that usually was for her mother when she visited India. This place gave her something that Shantivan didn't offer- peace and privacy. She didn't need anyone back in RM knowing about her mother's schemed package and now that she saw it, she really didn't want to know about it in the first place.

 

Inside the brown box with a FedEx seal was a bright red wedding outfit, jewellery and photos of some potential wealthy bachelors of America who wanted Indian brides and a very annoying letter from her mother. Lavanya couldn't believe that her mother went to take all the trouble to send her this, this absolute piece of rubbish when she knew that Lavanya didn't love or probably couldn't like anyone other than Arnav, who considered her nothing less than unwanted obligation. She couldn't understand why life was putting her to tests in every corner of the path she took. There was only so much that she could endure and her mother and Arnav had already played with her feelings enough. She didn't want them to hurt her more...

 

As she sat there, staring dejectedly at t package, her phone buzzed to life. Not really seeing it was a new number, she picked up the call, "Lavanya Kashyap."

"Hey this is Chris!" a deep, enthusiastic voice responded back.

 

"Chris?" she asked back, her mind searching for information about the new entry.

 

"Ah the taxi loan guy!" Chris answered jovially, "I finally figured the denominations out, so thought of returning your money back!"

"Oh!" a slow smile of recognition spread across her tired face, "I am sorry. I was busy working and I kinda go into the brain freeze mode if I get overloaded with work."

"You apologize too much," Chris exclaimed making her giggle, "it's not good. Sometimes you have to be like who the hell are you man?"

 

Lavanya laughed heartily, all her hard feelings and uncontrolled emotions settling in the back of her mind while a new lightness settled in heart, getting warmed by this stranger, "I am sorry, I know I am a bore sometimes."

"There you go again!" Chris said, "maybe we should a ban the word sorry. It causes serious strain in friendships you know..."

"Oops, my bad!" Lavanya was careful not to utter the S word again, "anyway, congratulations. You finally figured out how to use our currency!"

"Yeah that was big feat!" Chris joked, "took me whole 300 seconds to understand it's science."

Neither of them knew when they cracked up and the whole conversation was filled with guffaws in minutes. Neither of them knew what had made them to hit on so instantly. Neither of them knew why they were even talking to each other or laughing their heads off at the current moment but it had made them completely, entirely forget about their worries, tribulations or their perpetual sadness. The moment just belonged to them, two strangers who found some kind of peace, warmth and affection in each other. This was a start a long lasting friendship and probably they were too busy to realise that just yet.

 

"Anyway, I am kind of jobless right now and my sister's out on some random girl work and here I am sitting in this boring cafe having nothing but an absolutely horrendous De Caf and I don't know what to do. So unless you would meet me, I will be here whiling away my time, imagining myself to be some janitor at the house of some rich guy who doesn't know how to make coffee..." Chris finished.

 

"Aww, poor you!" Lavanya exclaimed, "is that coffee so horrible?"

"Yes, this is an insult to coffee," Chris sighed as he yelled at the restaurant guy, "hey come to New York buddy!"

"Then why the hell are you even there?" Lavanya demanded. "Because I don't know any other place here and my sister had some really important work. So! I am clueless.!" Chris said.

 

"Okay, if you can leave the cafe then do..." Lavanya said as she picked up her car keys and walked out of the guest house not caring that her package had just fallen from the table. "Catch a cab and come to the Khan Market. It will cost you about, wait, where are you?"

"No worries," Chris said as he got up and banged some cash on the manager's desk and walked out, "Khan Market. I will come. Tell me where."

"Just come to the Cafe De Moments..." Lavanya said, "I will treat you to some delightful coffee. Seems like you are in dire need of some."

"Yes, at the moment I seriously need some good coffee," Chris said as he flagged down a cab, "Khan market" he yelled at the driver before throwing himself onto the seat, "or I am going to explode in sheer embarrassment of consuming something that tasted like sewage!"

"Ha!" Lavanya laughed, "that was a good one or a desperate one! Anyway, good coffee, here we come. Make it quick!"

"Yes Madame..." Chris laughed as he cut the call and proceeded to leave a text message to Gupta to tell her that he would come back home by himself and there was no need to worry about him.

 

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Khushi was seriously thinking about murdering her sister. Here she was clutching bags of shopping, standing in the middle of a random street, looking absolutely lost while her sister had just ran off to meet her friend. Typical! She would just have to make some other arrangement. She decided on walking down to the car park, dumping her bags in her car and going to a cafe to have something. She was ravenous.

 

After a tiring walk in the bright sun, she finally traipsed into the car park, her fingers numb from carrying so many thread bags. Oh she would kill her sister. Just when she was trying to open her car, a SUV zoomed into the car slot next to her, knocking down all the shopping bags that she had kept on the ground.

 

"What the heck!" she screamed as she rounded on the car driver and ta da, to her mind blowing luck, it was the same sunglasses guy who had the attitude enough to donate it to the whole world and still be left over with some. Why god why! Why was she the one who had to put up with the nonsense? Why was everyone so hell bent on making the world a living hell? Why was everyone ready to play with her feelings like it was some weird pink or red ball? This man had kissed her, forcefully, and she, out of all the horror, had responded back and here he was, again, to eat her head, to embarrass her, to intimidate her and she had no idea how to deal with him. Right now, the only thing that came to her mind was, HE KNOCKED MY BAGS DOWN!!! DOWN YA BITCH!

 

"Really! Really the hell!" she screamed as soon as he got out of his car and looked at her as though he was seeing a really rare panda come out of the woods into a random parking lot, "I am seriously thinking maybe I swallowed a horse shoe magnet that had the power to attract idiots to me. Why am I the one who has to constantly deal with you? Can't you go bother someone else for a change? Why do I come across you every time? "

"Believe me! I have no interest either," Arnav scoffed, while his insides were turning into goo. He was furious, or not, his mind said. It acted strange. His heart beat suddenly had accelerated while it remembered the sweet sense of belonging this girl had washed him over with when he had kissed her last time. He felt guilty, he felt confused but his attitude took over his bewilderment and he bit out, quite rudely "I have been asking myself the same question. Out of the billions population this world has, it has to be you who comes to eat my head."

Khushi stood on her toes, rising magnificently to the occasion to bite the man's head off, "Oh really! Mister, shove you good for nothing attitude in some toilet. Don't you dare give it to me!"

"My attitude is too precious to be wasted on people like you," he sneered as he pushed her away from him, "Out of my way!"

 

 Khushi's temper line broke, "What the hell! Hello!" she yelled as she grabbed his shoulder and turned him around roughly, "who the hell is going to pick up my bags? Or should I wait for your grandfather to do the honours?"

"Are you under the impression that I am going to pick you bags up?" Arnav asked her incredulously. Really? She's kidding, right?

 

"Yes," Khushi said heatedly, "you are the one who knocked it down with your bigger than your butt SUV, now you are the one who is going to pick it up!"

"Dream on, lady..." he ignored her as he started walking away but she wasn't going to let go of him that easily. God this woman was a leech! 

 

"Pick it up!" she yelled at his face again. Her nose had turned red and blotchy and her eyes were burning with annoyance. That was when he noticed her contacts were slipping off. "Hey your contacts are slipping off," he said with an air of arrogance but his statement had the desired effect. She forgot her angry tirade and turned to the mirror to do it up. He chose that moment to escape from the scene but, no sir, she wasn't done yet, "Hey moron, pick the bags or I swear I'll puncture your tires," she muttered arrogantly while her hands were busy attacking her contacts.

 

"Do you honestly thinking I am someone who picks up random, annoying, brainless women's bags?" Arnav asked as he walked on, "for your information those are tubeless tires!"

"Yes, I do think you are that loser who's born to pick up women's bags," Khushi said triumphantly, "and for your information, I have a knife that'll cut through your tires like butter and I doubt you have four spare tires to take you home."

 

What the!" he turned around and faced her. She was standing there, with her nose in the air, looking exultantly at him, "pick it up!" she twirled her Swiss knife in her hand. He could easily call someone and the vehicle would come before his work in the mall was done but no, he had to make this woman pay for calling him a loser. He smirked. His brain formulated a new plan. He had leverage. Now she would be the one who would kneel down and beg for his forgiveness. He proceeded to pick the bags up but something in that mess caught his eye, stunning him so hard that he forgot all his fights. Spread on the floor, sketched to perfection, were some astoundingly incredible designs that probably even he couldn't have created.

 

His breathing hitched as he stared at the sheer magnificence that had been etched on the paper. These creations were a dream of every designer. So flawlessly weaved and imagined that it was hard to believe that it was some human who actually had thought of it. It seemed godly, magical and extraordinary.

 

"Are these your creations?" he rasped. Khushi looked down distastefully but the minute her eyes caught her precious papers, she had a panic attack. She ran to her bags, picked everything up and dumped them unceremoniously in her car, snatched the folder from him, stuffed her designs inside, threw it in the shotgun and climbed in her car and gunned it down away from the parking lot. It all happened so fast that Arnav wasn't even out of his trance and she had vanished.

 

He kicked his car and got nothing but a stabbing pain in his big toe. No matter how much attitude he threw at people's face, Arnav was a man who appreciated talent in any form. He wasn't someone who insulted the gift of any person. He had earned it hard way and he knew how difficult it was. He just had seen some remarkable talent in that woman -for he was sure those were her designs. It had been proved in the way she had rushed to snatch it from his hands- and in his petty fight had missed a golden chance to interact with someone who was so incredibly gifted. He had to hunt down this person. The plans were so quickly formulated in his mind that it left little space for some third world instinct to warn that he was looking for a wrong person. She wasn't a professional and she didn't even belong to his field. Anyway, he would get his shock, thought the instinct and happily settled at the back of his head and snoozed on...