Chapter 1

[NOCOPY]

This OS is dedicated to my choti behna... my virtual world sister... Dee (dj_arshifan)!!! It's her birthday today and what better gift can I give you than these mere words that got us acquainted? Dee, your liveliness and madness reminds me of myself in many ways than I can ever admit... Always remain the same and I wish with all my heart that all your dreams come true... 🤗

A very HAPPY BIRTHDAY Dee!! And I do hope you like this gift. 🥳

For all those who would like to wish her... here is her Birthday Thread link

Birthday Celebrations of dj_arshifan

Arhi OS : Stumbling upon Happiness

Arnav Singh Raizada sat silently on a lone bench, in the huge park, looking at other children his age, playing football. He was a loner, not really wanting to mingle with them. His childhood had been a troubled one, since he was five. There had not been a single day when his parents would not fight. The screaming, yelling and abusing used to frighten him in the beginning, but now at the age of twelve, he was used to it all. The only semblance of sanity he found at home was with his Dadaji... and in painting.

However, outside his so-called home, it was always her... his best friend since childhood, Khushi. They were next-door neighbors, with their families sharing a close bond. Even though her older brother Shyam was his age, Arnav had always been more attached to Khushi. Her smile, her happiness, her excitement was infectious. She was like a ray of sunshine in his gloomy life. Shyam did not approve of their friendship, but Khushi had never bothered about what he thought. It all began, when he was seven years old and Khushi was merely five...

Arnav had been hiding in the tree-house in the backyard of their bungalow. It was his hide-away from the turmoil, that was his family. He was lost in the world of colours, papers and fantasy, when he had heard someone sobbing. He peered down from the tree, to see a very pretty girl crying hysterically. What drama!,' he thought, as he quietly climbed down the ladder, to walk towards her. He knelt down, so he was at her level, to see beautiful hazel eyes, brimming with tears. He knew who she was... he had seen her with Gupta uncle and aunty quite often.

"Why are you crying?" his annoyed voice, stopped her wails abruptly, as she took a couple of steps back, in fear. After a few seconds of silence, she managed to reply almost inaudibly, "I lost my way home." Arnav could not help chuckling at her cute admission. She lived next door for God's sakes, and here she was, crying loudly, because she thought she had lost her way. However, one look at her tear-streaked face, stirred something in him. He forgot his mirth and responded, "Come, let me take you home. You don't need to worry, ok?" She nodded as she extended a hand for him to hold. He looked at her in something close to awe, as his hand, of its own accord, held hers in a firm grip.

The five-minute walk to her doorstep was one of the most comforting moments in Arnav's life. She asked him his name, his school and what he liked or disliked... as if five minutes was all they had. Her non-stop chatter soon replaced the fears; her giggles making him smile as well. Those five minutes marked the beginning of a friendship, that was destined to last forever. He had accidentally stumbled upon happiness, which had been lacking from his life, for a very long time.

As time passed, the bond between Khushi and Arnav grew stronger. With fights still going on in his home, Arnav found solace in Khushi's enthusiastic babbles, her company and her understanding of his reclusiveness... the exact opposite of how the world saw him. The boys in his class kept their distance from him and his so-called anger. Not even Shyam, who knew him to a certain extent, wanted to play with him. His life revolved around his colourful paintings and Khushi.

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The football hit Arnav in the head, which broke his reverie. At 12, Arnav was more mature than the rest of the boys. He wasn't a good student academically, however, he was brilliant at art - and excelled in painting portraits and landscapes. His painting brought a sense of calm to him and his muse was always Khushi. He excelled in sketching her expressive face... the myriad emotions that flit across those hazel eyes. As if sensing his thoughts, he saw Khushi running towards him. She had almost reached his bench, when she stumbled. And as usual, he was there... in a jiffy... steadying her.

Just as he had mastered the art of painting, he had also mastered this... holding Khushi, everytime she stumbled. Since they had become friends, he noticed that she would always flutter from one place to another, bouncing with excitement, like a butterfly. That is why her mother always referred to her as titaliya,' so aptly. Somehow, she would always trip or stumble around Arnav, knowing very well, that her best friend would never fail to save her from falling.

"Arnav!!! Thank you..." she spoke breathlessly, her face scrunching anxiously. "Why are you sitting so quietly on this bench? Go and play with Shyam bhai. Do you want me to speak to him? Stop being such a loner, ok, and join the gang. Or do you want to go cycling with me?" her usual barrage of questions did not surprise him. He looked at her breathless form and admired the stunning eyes, that twinkled with excitement. Her face was perfection, the pointed nose and the rosy cheeks... just about everything. He looked at her through the eyes of an artist... or so, he thought.

"Relax, Khushi. You know, I don't enjoy playing with these boys, neither do they. So why waste time in discussing this? As for Shyam, why do you keep pestering him about me? He does not like me. Period. Don't keep forcing him to get to know me. I really don't care what he thinks of me. What matters to me is... You!" Arnav saw her face twisted in frustration, at this oft-repeated statement. "Alright, there is no point arguing with you then... you stubborn Raizada. Come, lets go home." She pulled him along with her towards her room, their hide-out... where they spent the rest of the evening, laughing over the antics of Laurel and Hardy.

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It was a week after Arnav's graduation. By now, he had realized the reason behind his parents' continuous fights. They had never loved each other and were possibly having affairs outside their marriage. The only binding force was his Dadaji... who was perhaps, more at fault for keeping them together, without their heart in this relationship. He had declared that if the two would end their marriage, his large business and property would be given to charity. Their marriage had been a sinking ship for years now, but at this stage, it seemed even worse. Dadaji had been in a critical condition since the last couple of days, and the chances of his survival were extremely slim.

Arnav had been juggling between applying for his masters in Fine Arts and hospital duty. Khushi had been by his side throughout, much to her brother's disapproval. However, Garima aunty would always get him some home-cooked food, Shashi uncle would speak to him about Dadaji's progress and other hospital formalities. They were like his guardians, more than what his parents were to him. Their constant support, made Arnav strive harder to reach his goals... and Khushi... she had come to mean the world to him... his friend... his support system and his happiness.

Dadaji passed away, after battling illness for a week. Arnav was distraught at the loss, and more so, at seeing the jubilation in his parents' eyes. There was nothing left in Delhi for him, anymore. He wanted to get away from everything, from everyone, from the memories, that would haunt him forever. His plan of applying to a college in Mumbai changed suddenly to The University of Arts, London. Without even glancing back at Khushi, he had made his way towards the airport. He knew very well, that he was leaving behind his happiness... and it should be that way. He had nothing to give her, other than hopelessness and sorrow. Shyam had always been right... that he was selfish!

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Six long years had changed Arnav drastically. As they say, tough times don't last long, tough people do'. Arnav had endured those dark days, till he had seen the success. Now, he was one of the most sought after artists in the world. His exhibitions pulled crowds from all over the world. Yet, something was amiss. Amidst all the parties, friends, celebrations... he had missed her smile, her twinkling eyes, her comforting hand and her presence. He had missed Khushi immensely.

The decision of going back to his past was a tough one. Guilt had consumed him to the extreme. How was he going to face her again... especially after how ruthlessly he had cut off ties with her!! She had called him, mailed him, sent him letters...! She had even travelled all the way to London to meet him. However, he had always made excuses to avoid her... deliberately missed her calls, ignored her mails and flirted with some woman in front of her... all to make her hate him. At the time, he had thought he did not deserve Khushi... he did not deserve this happiness. And nothing had changed even now...or had it?

Shashi uncle had called a week ago, inviting him for the wedding ceremony of Shyam. As traditional as the Gupta family was, he wondered if Khushi being a daughter... was already married off! For the first time in years, he felt a dread take over his heart... a part of the body; he had almost forgotten he had. As he sat anxiously in the flight back to India, all he could recollect were her next to perfect features, her soulful hazel eyes and the smile that always took his breath away... he was headed home... back to his happiness.

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The crowd seemed to part, every sound seized to exist. All he saw was a divine beauty, draped in a deep red saree, shimmering like the ocean during a beautiful sunrise. Her perfect body was full at the right places. From what he could see, she had now turned into a gorgeous woman. However, the face remained childlike, a myriad emotions still flit across her face in mere seconds. He watched her, as she walked around chatting with the gathered groups of people. He noticed her bare neck, with no signs of a mangalsutra or sindoor in her forehead and relaxed a bit. He watched as the young men in the gathering, eyed her lustfully, making him angry... jealous and guilty.

He walked towards her slowly, his hands fisting at his sides. She was walking right towards him, turning around and chatting with an elderly lady. And then she tripped... like always... like old times... like that small pretty girl, and he was there, once again, to hold her in his arms... it felt like time stood still... like they had gone back in years... like he was the same, reclusive boy... holding onto his happiness. Her hazel eyes shone with unshed tears, as she held onto him for dear life. He pulled her closer, taking in the warmth that had left him six years ago.

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Arnav touched the photograph, brushing his thumb over Khushi's beautiful face. It had been five years, since that moment in Shyam's wedding. Coincidently, the photographer had captured that moment- the reunion of two soulmates... not knowing the importance that it held for them. It had taken Arnav almost six months to redeem himself. The strong, bold and crazy Khushi Kumari Gupta had made him beg, grovel and win her back again. Yes! She had admitted being in love with him, since childhood.

The only reason she had refused to marry earlier than Shyam was because she had expected him to come back to her, one day. She amazed him... her belief in him, and her undying love for him. Arnav knew, that he still did not deserve her and her love, but he had to prove that his saala had always been right about him... he was downright selfish!

He had shifted his base from London to Delhi for a few months. Work would have to wait... just like he had made Khushi wait for him for so many years. Slowly and steadily, he had won over the Guptas and his saala, Shyam. Due to Khushi's constant pestering and support, he had managed to reconcile with his parents, who were now happily settled, with their respective partners. He would never be able to forgive them whole-heartedly, however, he was able to move on, alongwith his happiness.

One year later, and after a variety of grand proposals, numbering ten... he had married Khushi, around whom his life revolved. He was lost without her. She had become his necessity, his oxygen to breathe. They had moved back to the UK, then shifted from London to Paris. She had set up her own designer clothes' boutique, and her talent and fame had spread like wildfire across the fashion hub of the world. Arnav had not known his wife's potential, until he had seen a lot of celebrities drop into her little store, to buy her exclusive designs.

He was also unaware of her interest in selling art. She had acquired a keen knowledge and interest in buying and selling art, since the time she had known; he had become a well-known artist. It humbled him to know that she loved him, in spite of how abruptly he had ended everything that was... or could have been between them. He knew he had forever... to make it up to her.

The rustle of material, the melodious sound of her bangles and her sweet citrusy fragrance, brought him out of his reverie. He turned around, to see his wife walking into their current bedroom... and then she tripped... like always. His hand moved around her smooth, slim waist skillfully. He looked at his reflection in her hazel eyes -eyes that could unman him within seconds. "Why do you keep stumbling around me, happiness?" A question that always bothered him, finally managed to make its way out.

For the first time in years, he saw her eyes well up at such a simple question and he quickly steadied her. Brushing away her tears, he looked at her worriedly. "Arnav, since childhood, you were always so detached from everyone. Sometimes, I felt that I could not reach your heart... your soul. I would then stumble around you, knowing very well that you would never let me fall... just to get close to you. The concern and care I would see in your eyes would finally give me the satisfaction I always craved."

Arnav looked at her, his heart constricting with happiness at this open admission of her feelings and said, "But, sweetheart, now you do know, that I love you right? You really do not need to stumble around me... I don't really mind you jumping upon me wildly." His teasing tone earned him a smack on his chest as she muttered softly, "It's become a habit Arnav... I love falling in you arms... as you hold me close to your heart... I find my happiness." He pulled her closer to his body, his mouth moved over hers, kissing her passionately.

"Mamaaa... Papaaa... eeeuuu!! Stop it!" Their adorable little daughter, Anahira, conveniently interrupted their passionate moment. They looked at their little bundle of joy, who was an exact replica of her mother... only, she had his molten chocolate eyes. "Can I open my eyes now?" she asked adorably, as Arnav walked towards her and picked her up in his arms. "Yes baby... you can open your eyes now" replied Arnav, cleaning the chocolate that was smeared all across her tiny lips.

"Mamu is waiting downstairs for you both. He says we are getting late for the party." This statement from her daughter, reminded Khushi of what she had come back to their room for. They had flown down from Paris a week ago, for Shyam's fifth wedding anniversary. She had come back to get the exquisite gift, that she had got for her beautiful bhabhi. As the small family walked out of the room, Arnav looked back at the photo that hung on the wall... and thanked God, who had made him stumble upon his happiness... all those years ago.

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