Chapter 5
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[MEMBERSONLY]
[NOCOPY]
MARRYING KHUSHI
(Thank you nishu_shorna for the lovely banner)
(Thanks a million for the gorgeous banner, Akorshi)
(Thanx a million, Nishu_Shorna, for the fab banner!)
Part 5
Khushi turned her head to look at him, the stranger dressed formally and looking out of place in a Lucknow market.
She frowned.
"Where are you from?"
"Delhi."
"Oh!" she looked at him for a few more moments, and then said, "Acha, ab hamein chalna chahiye. Namaste!"
"Khushi!"
The call stopped her. She turned to look at him, a question in her eyes.
ASR struggled to find words to ask her to stay with him. How to arrange things so that she would be tied to him? Would be unable to leave him?
Unable to voice his need, he caught hold of her arm again.
Khushi misunderstood him spectacularly...again.
"You don't know how to get out of the market?" She hit her head with her hand. "It is like a maze. For a person who comes here for the first time, it can be very confusing. Aap bilkul chinta mat keejiye! Hum he naa?" she smiled. "Please come with me."
Khushi freed her arm from his and caught hold of his coat-covered arm and dragged him along with her out of the market, chattering nineteen to a dozen.
Arnav looked down at her in amazement.
"What is your name?" she asked at the late hour.
"Arnav Singh Raizada."
It meant absolutely nothing to her.
"What are you doing in Lucknow?" Her curiosity was endearing.
What could he tell her? The truth? Maybe that would get her in to the fashion show. Hope filled his heart.
"I am a businessman." he started.
"Acha?" she asked, turning her face away from his to wave at a young boy manning the counter at a dress shop.
"What do you sell? Sweets?" she asked.
Arnav swallowed. Her directness was disarming. "Clothes." he said.
"Oh! That's why you are dressed like this!" Khushi discovered. "You have a textile shop? In Delhi? You came to buy cheap maal from Lucknow?" she asked, her head twisted to one side, looking like a curious bird.
Arnav cleared his throat. How to reduce his multinational apparel company to a size that she could comprehend? He looked around, frantic for inspiration.
He looked down at her. She was staring at him, waiting for a reply.
Finally he said, "No, we design dresses... make them... and sell them..."
"Oh, you are a tailor!" Khushi exclaimed with all the glee of Archimedes at his discovery.
ASR stared at her in horror. Anger at his helplessness filled his veins.
"No. No, I am not a tailor!" he fumed.
"Theek he, Baba! You are not a tailor! Why are you so angry because you are not a tailor?" Khushi asked reasonably.
ASR looked around for inspiration and patience.
"I... I run a company that makes dresses... expensive dresses..." He tried his best to explain.
"Like Kareena Kapoorji wears?" Khushi asked.
ASR heaved a sigh of relief.
"Yes. Like your Kareena Kapoorji wears. Khushi, we need models to display the Indian clothes we have designed..."
Khushi frowned. "You need salesgirls?"
"No, I don't need salesgirls!" shouted ASR.
"Why are you shouting? And that too at me? It is not my fault that you don't need salesgirls!" Khushi made her side very clear. "If you are going to shout at me, I am going home." She pointed to the entrance of the market. "That is the way out of the market. Let go of my arm." she pouted.
ASR took deep breaths to calm himself.
"Khushi, I don't need salesgirls, but models. Models are girls who wear the clothes we design and walk on a stage to display the beautiful designs."
"Oh! Pehle kaha hota na? I would have understood had you explained. I am not an idiot, Shri. Arnav Singh Raizadaji. Hum 12th pass he!" Khushi made her displeasure clear.
"OK." ASR tried again, calming her down by waving his arms. "Listen to me, Khushi. Models are paid really well. Why don't you model our clothes this time?"
Khushi stared at him as if he had grown horns. "Hein?"
"Listen, Khushi. You will never get another chance like this. The fashion show is in Lucknow, in Sheesh Mahal." He tried to persuade her to fall in with his plans.
"That huge white building in the centre of the city?" Khushi asked.
"Yes." ASR's lips firmed. "You will be trained for one month. And paid a good sum." He mentioned the amount and her eyes became wide like saucers.
"The clothes are Indian. Sarees, lehengas... clothes that a bride would wear..." The image of the sari he had designed & crafted specially for her flashed through his mind. He waited for her reply with bated breath.
She remained silent, staring at him, her eyes unreadable.
ASR waited. Then he waited some more.
Finally, fed up of her silence, he said, "This is a very favourable deal. You won't get a better one anywhere in Lucknow."
Khushi looked at the ground for a moment, and then asked, "Why me?"
She had a talent for asking uncomfortable questions. ASR could feel his mouth drying up.
"I mean, I can't walk straight without tripping..." she said slowly. "If I am wearing a sari or lehenga, you can be sure that I will fall on you..."
Arnav swallowed hard. If only she would fall on him...
"And why are you going around offering jobs to strangers? What kind of bad businessman are you, employing a person you know nothing of?" she wiggled her eyebrows in question.
ASR grabbed the opportunity with both hands... and both feet.
"Come with me." he instructed as he dragged her along to the car.
"Kya kar rahe he aap? Chodiye hamein!" she hissed.
ASR was too desperate to listen to her.
"If I call out loudly, atleast fifty men will come to help me..." she gasped her threat as she ran to keep up with his long strides, her arm trapped in his firm, warm hold.
"They will beat you with sticks. Haddi pasli ek kar denge! Why do you have to come all the way to Lucknow from Delhi to get beaten?" she tried to reason with him.
He led her to the car.
Anjali & Aman stared at ASR and the girl he was pulling behind him, slack-jawed.
"Di, Aman, this is Khushi Kumari Gupta." he said brusquely.
Anjali could only nod & smile faintly at the girls' furious face. Aman stretched his lips in a smile, his eyes almost popping out.
"Khushi, this is my Di, Anjali Raizada. That is Aman, my manager."
"Namaste! I would fold my hands, but this Laad Governar won't let go of me!" Khushi complained.
The jaws of Aman & Anjlai hit the ground.
"Aap inke Di he?" Khushi clarified.
Anjali nodded.
"Why didn't you teach him some manners when he was a child? He has been dragging me through the market, holding my arm..." Khushi tried to free herself unsuccessfully. "Dard hota he, Baba! Chodiye hamein!"
ASR had to fight himself to release her.
Khushi rubbed her arm, grimacing at the imprint of his fingers. "What does he think of himself?" Khushi muttered. "Badtameezi ki bhi had hoti he!"
"Get in to the car." he ordered.
Khushi's eyes widened. "No."
"Get in. I will take you home and meet your family." ASR declared.
"No, no, no, no..." Khushi recited. "I won't get in to your car. I won't let you take me home. I won't introduce you to my family..." As she spoke, she found herself bundled in to the back seat to join Anjali.
"Please don't be scared." Anjali said softly, her eyes softening as she looked her fill of the beautiful girl. So this was why Chotey had been like a cat on a hot tin roof for the past few days...
"Who is scared? And that too of this... this... Laad Governar?" Khushi asked, making faces at Arnav who was driving away from the market.
"Where is your house, Khushi?" he asked.
"I won't tell you." Khushi placed her finger on her lips, and sat back.
Arnav slammed on the brakes. "Then we can sit here till you tell me the location of your house." He leaned back in his seat.
Aman and Anjali looked at each other, unable to believe their eyes or ears.
Khushi fumed.
"I hope you are not hungry." ASR said, a sardonic brow raised in the air.
Mice were eating her guts and moving on to nearby organs... Buaji must have made poori... Jiji must have prepared her favourite aaloo... Amma's besan laddoo... her mouth watered.
"Go straight." She bit out.
Arnav started the car & drove ahead, hiding his smile. He could hear her muttering abuses beneath her breath.
"Turn left."
He turned left.
"Stop here."
He stopped there, before a whitewashed house, old in its construction and design. The name, Gomti Sadan, could be seen on the arch above the gate.
He left the car, and walked around to open the door for Khushi.
Khushi turned her face away from him.
He held out his hand to help her out of the seat.
She gave his hand the royal ignore, and jumped down.
Aman helped Anjali out, and all four moved towards the house.
Addendum:
Dear friends,
As I will be away for a week, I'll will not be able to update...but Smita would do it.
As she has certain constraints she will not be able to update the thread title and the index.
To get the latest updates you will have to follow a simple procedure.
Each update at the end has link to previous update as well as the next.
So kindly book mark the current update and you will be able to get the latest part as she updates.
This applies for all to whom I am notifying too.
Regret the inconvenience caused.
Rashmi (rulama)
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