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Part 7

Delhi, Monday 30^th July 2012

Khushi leafed through the album for the what was possibly the millionth time that week. She fingered his face, much younger but the features were still the same. She smiled at the easy comradarie he seemed to share with the others in that photo. Her eyes followed the others in the photograph. They looked like any bunch of college youths. She studied the young european man who had lazily thrown his arm on her husbands' shoulders. Tall, very tall, for he stood a good few inches taller than Arnav. His face tanned, clearly from a healthy dose of sunshine and his eyes a brilliant ice blue with dark sapphire flecks. If she wasn't so whole heartedly in love with her husband even she might have fallen for the man next to him. She didn't know him, possibly never would, but there was something in his smile, in the way the corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled. The way he looked like the smile was from deep within. Just like Anjali's who was sitting in the midst of group, her mind noted how strange it was that despite being several years older, the woman seemed to blend into the photo so well. Yet that wasn't entirely surprising, given her gentle and friendly disposition. Her eyes went back to her husband, although friendly he looked removed somehow from them all. A boy that had grown up years before his time. A head of a man on the shoulders of a youth. A small lump formed in her throat. 'I will bring you back'

Khushi put down the old photo album and looked at the clock. 5am. She hadn't slept all night, her mind bracing itself for the possibility of some news of her husbands whereabouts. She walked to the calendar stopping to pick up a red marker that lay by the bedside table. She crossed out 29^th July ' the last day before the big circle on the 30^th June. India Gate. Would he remember? How would she recognise him? What if he didn't show? What if it was just another dead end?

All the questions came flooding back again and she did her best to push them all away, focusing on what needed to be done. She made a list of questions to ask the man. She packed a notebook and a pen in her bag. She paused momentarily and put another pen in the bag, just in case the first one ran dry. She made a call to Akash telling him that she was going to meet a friend at India Gate not mentioning anything about a lead. Akash and Payal already had enough on their plate with Shyam having gone maniacal at Anjali's decision to make little baby Asha the benefactor and Akash the trustee till Asha came of age. At first Shyam had tried to weasel himself in as the trustee, but Anjali had every so innocently explained to him that god forbid but should anything happen to either of them and given the amount of travel Shyam's job entailed it would be silly to have either of them as trustees. Shyam had not been able to come back with any devious plan to her iron clad logic. Khushi had told Akash that Anjali's actions were fuelled with nothing but true motherly love and Devi Maiyya would never let any evil between that. None the less it was decided that Shyam would have to be kept under close observation. Who better to do that than Akash, for Shyam was completely unsuspecting of the younger Raizada brother and hardly considered him a threat. Khushi had decided it would be best not to worry Akash and Payal any more than absolutely necessary.

She counted the wads of cash. She knew the high possibility that he would ask her for money to part with even a sliver of information. She had planned for this very eventuation and had emptied out all her savings plus the stipend Akash had been transferring into her account for her personal expenses ever since Arnav's disappearance. It was not much, but it was everything she had.

Barbados, Monday 30^th July 2012

"Here. Knock yourself out" a large dossier came crashing down on the seat next Arnav and he looked up questioningly,

"I had the whole thing investigated. I could write a novel, get rich. Retire by the seaside with a hot babe."

"You are rich and you do live by the seaside."

"But being an author would bring the babes in. Read the files motherf****" Sean jogged off as Arnav picked up the heavy dossier.

Delhi, Monday 30^th July 2012

She had waited for 3 hours in the sweltering summer heat outside the India Gate as per the phone call last month. Every minute had seemed like an hour to her, but at that point Khushi knew that even eternity would have been a short wait for a sliver of information about her husband.

A man approached her, dressed in a fine suit, looking every bit a dapper businessman himself. He sat beside her and picked out a book to read. Khushi's heart fell as she concluded that he was just another visitor to the monument. She sighed and settled back into her seat. "Waiting for someone?" she jumped at the voice and turned to face the man and gave him a weak smile.

"Do you have any idea how many people get stood up over here every day? A boyfriend?"

"I am married. Thank you."

"So? Married women can't have boyfriends?"

"Excuse me? What are you implying?"

"Nothing. So who are you here to meet. To be honest you look like you haven't slept in days and haven't had a decent meal to eat in even longer. That makes me doubt you are here to meet a lover. Someone bothering you?"

"Look I have no interest in talking to you. Whatever the reason I am here for today is none of your business."

"Ok fine. We wont talk about you. Lets talk about me. I wont tell you my name, that takes away from the thrill of speaking with a complete stranger. And I know you will stay up thinking about me tonight." He smirked smugly.

"Didn't you hear me? I am married. I have a husband whom I love more than anything in the world. So there is no reason why I would stay up thinking about you or any other man for that matter." She was getting irritated at the arrogance of this man. She was getting even more irritated because his manner and arrogance reminded her very much of the one man in her life. The one man she desperately needed to reach.

"You ever been scuba diving?"

"What? No!"

"Shame. It's a great sport. You must try it. Ask your husband, I am sure he would enjoy it too. He might even take you. Go to Barbados. They have good dive sites around there. And good scuba instructors."

"Sir, I have no interest in scuba diving. And nor do I want to go anywhere to scuba dive."

"Here take this card. A mate of mine. He is a lawyer by profession diver by passion, lives in Barbados. Give it to your husband. He might like it." The man handed her a card and stood up and looked at his watch. "I better go, my lunch break is over. Nice meeting you m'am. Think about me tonight Mrs. Raichand" He smiled at her again in that irksome arrogant way and stepped into the crowd and disappeared.

Khushi settled back in her bench and looked irritably at the card,

Sean Marshall, LL.b, Harvard,

87 Shore Drive,

Sunset Crest

Holetown

Barbados

Ph: 246-382 5686

Harvard, her heart did a little flip thinking of her husband. He went to Harvard too.

***

She threw her phone across the room in a fit of rage. She had been waiting for this for a month. For Nothing. She was frustrated, devastated and above all heart broken. She had done everything to keep her spirits up despite having lost everything in the process, but today was a complete shock to her system. She was so sure that she would find something out. She threw everything she could find at the wall and screamed out in frustration.

'Fine! If that's what you want Devi Maiyya, then why did you let me believe that he was alive. Why couldn't you let me move on like everyone else has! I can't do this anymore!" she sobbed into a pillow for what felt like hours.

***

It was late into the night, when Khushi looked around the room and decided she probably did need to clean up. She got up and picked up cushions and books she had hurled at walls earlier putting them away. One particular book caught her attention. She had missed it or probably thought it was a magazine and not paid much attention to it. It was her husbands year book. She picked it up to look at in bed. Perhaps she would find a photo of his she hadn't seen before. Her heart did a little dance. If that happened, the night would be easier somewhat.

***

Sean Marshall. The blue eyed man from the group photo. SEAN MARSHALL, the card I got from the man at India Gate. Khushi's mind was racing. She ran to her bag and dug furious to find the card. She hadn't thrown it away like she was planning to, simply because it had Harvard written on it and her Arnav went to Harvard.

She stared at the card, could it mean something? It had to mean something. As she thought of these another thought clicked, the man had called her Mrs. Raichand. How did he know who she was? But he got it wrong, she wasn't Raichand. She was a Raizada. Yet he was so sure. She would have to at least make a phone call. She would do that tomorrow after she had cleared her mind and thought of what to say. Plus, she needed Akash's help with the nuances of international calling.

That night Khushi did go to bed thinking about the man in the park.

Barbados, Tuesday 31^st July 2012

He hadn't slept throughout the night. He had been up reading the dossiers. She was innocent. His heart had known it all along, but his stupid, stupid brain would not budge. His eyes were bloodshot.

He reached for the phone. He had to speak with her. To tell he that he was alive. That he loved her. That he would do anything to make it up to her. That he was the biggest idiot on the face of this planet. That he loved her.

"Damn this f****ng phone. Its engaged. Khushi pick up for gods' sake" He threw the phone at the wall. He reached out grabbing anything he could reach and hurled it after the phone. He had to get in touch with her. And only her. He didn't want to call the family and speak to anyone else. It had to be Khushi first. His Khushi. His happiness. His life.

Arnav Singh Raizada, or Arnav Raichand collapsed on his knees and cried. Cried for all the pain he had knowingly inflicted on her. How he wished he could undo it all.

***

"Get on a plane. I will arrange the tickets for you. I will pick you up at the airport. And Khushi, don't go bhartiya nari on him just because you love each other. Belt the bas***d when you see him."

"Bhartiya nari?"

"Yeah, Hindi was my elective in college."

Sean Marshall finished the conversation and hung up. He then turned on his computer and booked first-class airfares from New Delhi to Bridgetown and emailed the details to the email address she had given.

ashna272012-05-18 05:09:35