Chapter 65
Font:
Text Size:
Theme:
OS 2: Finding Khushi
Part 18
Section 4
Khushi & Arnav left Vimala Chachi & the textile shop to go to Khushi's house, Gomti Sadan, for lunch. The sales girls and Vimla Chachi watched the pair walk out holding hands, and smiled at each other.
Arnav drove to Gomti Sadan, following Khushi's directions which were confusing and very informative to say the least.
"You have to turn left near Devi Maiyya's temple. Then you will see Rajesh Chacha's wheat mill, milk booth, and Nathu's sweetshop. Then we have to turn right near the street tap where all the ladies dump garbage at night, and go on for a few minutes. Then you will come to a rickshaw stand..."
Arnav looked at her, taking his eyes off the mad rush on the road for a moment.
"Left. I said, left, Arnavji! This is Devi Maiyya's temple!", Khushi exclaimed.
Two adolescent cyclists attempted to commit suicide by crashing into his car. He deftly swung the steering wheel to save both of them, and tried to find space between a lorry carrying household items and a public bus with men hanging by their toenail to the footboard...
"You see that shop, Arnavji?", Khushi asked, leaning towards him, and pointing to a small candystore hidden behind the butchers and a shop selling musical instruments.
Arnav glanced at it, scared to take his eyes off the road for too long.
"Bankelalji used to sell channa there. When we left school, we used to go there and buy channa daily from him.", Khushi smiled, lost in the memory of the good old times.
Arnav smiled, looking at her lost expression.
"That's our school, Arnavji! Jiji and I used to go there. Aap ko pata he, the biology teacher used to cane me everyday. She used to ask, are you sure you and Payal belong to the same family?", Khushi laughed.
Arnav smiled.
"Ramu Chacha sells thandai there... That is Ritesh Mama's kirana store... Babuji used to run Satwik Mistaan Bhandaar next door...", Khushi sighed. "People used to stand in queue to buy his Agra peda and my jalebis..."
Arnav looked at her downcast face, upset for her.
Khushi's face lit up. "Ramu Chacha used to call me Jalebi Rani of Lucknow!"
Arnav smiled.
"Turn right here, Arnavji! That is the garbage dump!", Khushi pointed out.
Arnav obediently turned right, like the good boy he was.
Khushi led him through the big arch of an old house. 'Gomti Sadan' and the year of construction were written in metal on the arch. He drove into a big courtyard. A cot had mango pieces left to dry on it, to be pickled later. Another had brass utensils washed and left to dry in the sun. There were a few plants in pots, and a stack of folded clothes on a stool.
"Please come in.", Khushi the hostess invited him in. She led him into the living room, a huge hall with a TV in one corner, and old chairs with plush cushions and tables. The walls had many decorative hangings, and the whole room looked colourful and lived-in. The stained glass windows lent piquancy to the appearance of the room.
Arnav stood in the centre of the room and looked around. There was a photo of Buaji & Phuphaji. Buaji looked impossibly slender and shy, standing by a Phuphaji with a walrus moustache. Arnav smiled.
"Coffee.", Khushi gave him a cup of the unsweetened beverage, and placed the tray on a table. "I will make lunch now.", she announced.
Arnav shed his coat & waistcoat, unbuttoned a couple of the buttons on his brown shirt to beat the heat, and followed her to the kitchen.
It was a big, sun-lit room, with jars and jars of pickles, a basket of vegetables, bins of atta and sugar... He watched Khushi deftly mix atta for roti and mince vegetables for curry.
Soon the kitchen was redolent with the smell of delicious cooking. Arnav washed the utensils she had used for cooking, wetting himself more than the pans. Khushi leaned against the counter, laughing, clutching her tummy.
"Arnav Singh Raizada... ha..ha... washing.. the..the... dishes...", she chuckled.
"Khushi Kumari Gupta!", he growled in pretended anger.
Khushi laughed more.
Arnav smiled and sprayed some water on to her. Khushi ran from the room, carrying the dishes to the dining table. Arnav followed, laughing.
Arnav and Khushi sat down to have their meal. Khushi served him and then herself. The food tasted like ambrosia to Arnav, especially when Khushi broke a piece of roti and dipping it in the sabzi that she had made, placed it in his mouth. Arnav chewed slowly, savouring the morsel. When he finished, he parted his lips and sat waiting for her to feed him.
Khushi giggled. Arnavji was so funny! Like a child, she thought. And being Khushi, she blurted out her thoughts as soon as she thought them.
"Arnavji! You are so like a child! No wonder Anjaliji & Naniji call you Chotey!", she smiled.
Arnav looked down at his plate. Where had his childhood gone? Had he ever had a childhood? All he could remember of it was the suicide of his parents and the helplessness he had felt when his uncle had thrown him & Di out... He looked at Khushi's happy face. Maybe he had been given a second chance at life and happiness. He was no fool to waste it!
They finished their meal, enjoying each other's company. After the meal, Arnav helped Khushi wash the plates and crockery they had used. He then took his glass of water and walked around, studying the photos hanging on the walls of the corridor leading away from the kitchen.
There was a family photo. Arnav took a mouthful of water.
Amma & Babuji were sitting. Buaji was standing behind them, Khushi & Payal on either side of her. Khushi had taken hold of Buaji's long plait and put it around her neck. Arnav chuckled, choking and spilling water all over his shirt.
Khushi came running to him. "Arnavji, what happened? Are you alright?" She patted him on his head and rubbed his back so that he could get his breath back.
"You have wet your shirt!", she gasped. "I will dry it if you remove it."
"I will remove it.", he said, laughter still lingering in his voice.
Khushi pointed out her bedroom to him, and went to lock the back door.
When she got to her bedroom, Arnavji was sitting without his shirt on her bed, leaning against the headboard. Her feet halted at the threshold. She clutched the sides of her suit, bunching the material in her fists.
"Khushi... Here's the shirt!", Arnav said, holding out the wet shirt.
Khushi had no choice. Breathing deeply to calm herself, Khushi walked up to him, and held out her trembling hand. He looked at her hand, and then placed the shirt in it. Her fingers closed over the material. She took it to the terrace leading from her room to hang it out to dry.
Arnav sat watching her, a smile on his naughty face.
Drawing on all her reserves of courage and self-control, Khushi returned to the room.
Arnav sat back, relaxed, looking at a visibly uncomfortable Khushi who was trying very hard not to look at his bare chest and torso.
Khushi tried to leave the room inconspicuously.
"Khushi...", Arnav called.
"J..j..i..i..?", she quavered.
"Just come here for a moment.", he invited.
Khushi took a couple of steps to the bed. And halted.
"Closer...", Arnav invited in his bedroom voice, his molten eyes calling her to throw all caution and fear to the winds and enjoy the moment.
Khushi gulped... And took one step forward.
"Closer...", his voice went huskier.
Khushi took one more step closer to him on trembling legs, feeling short of breath, feeling asthough all the nerves in her body were stretched on a rack...
Arnav leaned forward in a quick movement, and caught her arm in a vice. He pulled her to sit by him on the bed, facing him.
Khushi panted. Arnav's heart raced to match hers.
He flicked a finger against her pale cheek. What is wrong, Khushi? You look scared..." He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling in mirth.
"He is dangerous, Khushi. Don't look into his eyes...", Khushi told herself. As usual, she spoke aloud, and Arnav burst out laughing.
Khushi frowned at him. How dare he steal her breath first, and then laugh at her breathlessness? She made to get off the bed, miffed with him.
Arnav pulled her into his arms, holding her close against his bare chest. Her hands clutched his bare shoulders, and pulled back as though she had touched fire.
"Aap... aap kya kar rehe he? Chodiye hamein!", she said. Unfortunately the words sounded more like an invitation to hold on to her tighter rather than a warning. And her eyes slid to his tempting lips...
Arnav smiled, his delicious lips twisting in mockery. "Tut tut, Khushi. You still don't know what I am going to do to you? That's a shame. We have to correct it at the earliest."
His face came closer to hers, his lips approaching hers.
Khushi gasped, her half-fried brain capable of coming up only with "Arnavji... Arnavji... the shirt..."
"Shirt ko goli maro.", Arnav whispered as he moved in for the kill.
Your reaction
Nice
Awesome
Loved
LOL
OMG
Cry
Post Your Comment