Chapter 9
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[MEMBERSONLY]
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rulama 2013-11-10 07:17:13
[NOCOPY]
MARRYING KHUSHI
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(Thanks a million for the gorgeous banner, Akorshi)
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Part 11
ASR lay in bed, smiling.
Khushi lost in the music and the movements of her dance, the skirt of her red lehenga swirling around her, the feel of her as she lay against him laughing, her softness, her warmth, the fragrance of her silky smooth hair, the fast pumping of her thundering heart, the sound of her happy laughter, like the tinkling of bells...
And the way she had looked at him as he had glared at her during dinner! As though she couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. And the tiny frown on her face as she thought seriously about the cause of his anger. Only she could come up with such a reason! He chuckled soundlessly. Khushi! She was a unique piece, meant all for him, only for him...
He pulled the pillow in to his arms, against his chest, as though it were her.
The softness of her palm as he had pressed his hard lips to it... He wished he could kiss her all over. Would her cheeks be softer?
Khushi sat on her bed, shocked, lost in her thoughts.
The Laad Governaar had kissed her hand. She looked down at her palm. It didn't look out of the normal. She frowned. But how could it be normal? She had felt his lips burn against her skin like a brand. Where was the mark, the scar? She scrutinised the skin of her palm thoroughly.
"Khushi, sona nahi he kya?" Payal asked the girl sitting on her bed, inspecting her palm. "What are you doing? Reading your palm?"
Khushi smiled wanly.
"Tell me, Khushi. What can you see in the lines of your palm? What will your dulha look like?" Payal teased her.
An image of a furious Raizadaji glaring at the food placed before him flashed through her mind.
"Like a volcano, with lava erupting from it..." Khushi whispered.
"Kya?" Payal asked.
"Nothing." Khushi blinked her eyes rapidly to push the spectre away. She hid her palm under her dupatta.
"Khushi, change your clothes and come to bed. I am feeling sleepy." Payal grumbled.
"Haan, Jiji. Just a minute." Khushi got up to get a set of casualwear from her wardrobe.
Payal slept, lost in vaguely romantic dreams of Akash Raizada, innocent and harmless dreams in which she was batting her eyelashes at him and he was simpering at her, she was washing dupattas and he was watching her with besotted eyes, she was making roti and he was waiting to taste them, looking at her through the window of her kitchen with puppy dog eyes...
Khushi tried not to sleep, knowing that if she shut her eyes, the rakshas would invade her dreams.
She stared at the ceiling; she stared at the bedpost.
She looked around the room, blinking to stay awake. Her eyelids drooped in fatigue, but she shook herself awake.
She widened her eyes, she washed her face, she did sit ups, she danced humming a Bollywood tune, she swung her arms and walked about the room... and then around midnight, she collapsed in bed, her eyes shut, her body limp.
She saw him take hold of her arm and pull her in to the darkness.
"Please let go of my arm. Koi dekh lega. And it hurts." she said softly, looking around nervously, not wanting anyone to spy on their moments together.
Shaitan loosened his hold, and gently lifted her arm towards his face, his eyes burning in to hers.
He touched the faint marks left by his fingers with his lips, caressing the fine skin with open delight, his lashes falling to cover his eyes.
Khushi jumped up, her arm tingling. She looked around with wide, startled eyes, panting, sweating as though she had just competed in a marathon. She was in her bedroom in Gomti Sadan. She was nowhere near Sheesh Mahal or the Shaitan living there. It was night... she wouldn't have to see him for a few hours more... she was safe till then... She looked down at her arm. There was nothing to be seen there. She rubbed the spot he had held as though to wipe away all remnants of his touch.
She looked at the clock. 12.30. She sighed. If she didn't get some sleep, she was going to be a wreck the next day.
She slipped back in to bed, looking enviously at her Jiji who was sleeping soundly, a slight smile on her lips. Why shouldn't she sleep, thought Khushi, disgruntled. The Rakshas hadn't kissed Jiji's palm. If he had, Jiji too would be staying awake with her!
Slowly her lashes fell over exhausted eyes. The sound of the blades of the ceiling fan lulled her in to sleep.
She saw them in the gazebo at midnight, she in the white saree that was threatening to fall down her ankles, standing with her back against the wall, literally and figuratively, the bhootni trapped by the Rakshas.
"You have much to learn about me, Khushi Kumari Gupta..." he drawled. "I never lose. I win, always." His eyes twinkled with deep delight at cornering her.
Defiant eyes trying to hide her weakness at his nearness rose to his amused, intent ones.
"The loser always has to pay a penalty, Khushi. What will you forfeit?" his soft utterance sent a thrill of dangerous temptation down her spine. She tried to glare at him, covering her susceptibility to him behind her pretense of anger.
"I think...a kiss..." ASR decided.
Her heart leaped out of her chest... in fear of the unknown... in anticipation of the unfamiliar... in fear that the novel pleasure would unman her, break her, shatter her, turn her in to a pool of mush, turn her anger in to addiction, her fright in to fascination... in fear that the interloper would take over her senses, her heart...
He lowered his head.
She watched his lips coming closer to her face with all the fascination of a mouse for a snake approaching it, gliding sinuously towards it...
His hot breath stung the soft skin of her right cheek before his hard lips branded her as his own...
Khushi fell out of bed in shock.
She scrambled up and ran to the washroom, pushing the door open with scant regard to the noise she was making. She splashed cold water on her face with trembling hands, spilling water on to her throat and her chest in her clumsiness.
At the end of the midnight exercise, she stood cold, wet, and gasping in her bathroom, panting, clutching her head. What did she have to do to get him out of her head! Why did that devil have to come to Lucknow and turn her life upside down? She who never compromised on sleep was now wide awake while the rest of the world was snoring merrily!
She hit her forehead with her hand, Buaji style. "He Devi Maiyya, raksha karna!" she pleaded. "Or this man will turn me mad. That is, more mad than I already am. Please, please call him back to Delhi..."
The next day, she crept in to the outhouse of Sheesh Mahal before her time.
Manju Singh looked at her in surprise. "Khushi, you are early today."
What was the use of sitting at home dreaming of a tall, dark man? It was better to slice bread and crush fruits for juice here! Khushi smiled.
Maybe Devi Maiyya had heard her plea, Khushi thought, feeling hope rise in her mind. She asked, "Manjuji, is Laa... Raizadaji here? Or has he returned to Delhi?"
Manju frowned. Anjaliji had told her that ASR and his brothers had visited the Guptas last evening. "Kyon? Kya hua?"
"N... nothing..." stammered Khushi.
"How was the sangeet yesterday?" Manju leaned forward to see the mehendi pattern on Khushi's hands and arms.
"Ji, nice." Khushi smiled. "Are you sure Raizadaji and his brothers are still here?" she asked.
"Yes. Didn't they visit your family yesterday?" Manju asked, a naughty gleam in her eyes.
"Ji. They attended the sangeet..." Khushi murmured absently. The knife fell from her hand.
"ASR danced?" Manju looked as though she had sighted a UFO.
"No... no... they had dinner with us..." Khushi clarified. She dropped a spoon.
"Kya hua, Khushi? You seem very nervous today." Manju asked, her mind running in many directions. What had ASR managed to do yesterday to make Khushi Kumari Gupta so fidgety and longing for him to be gone? Had he screamed at her? Or glared at her?
Manju's phone rang. ASR.
Khushi scooted from the outhouse as though all the hounds of hell were behind her. She ran in to the building that housed many washrooms, and hid there.
5 minutes. She looked at the big clock on the wall.
10 minutes.
If she stayed away longer, Manjuji would send an army to look for her. Slowly, reluctantly, she quit the building, and moved towards the outhouse on leaden feet.
Manju said, "Khushi, ASR wants you in his study. Now."
Khushi swallowed hard and nodded. But she stood where she was.
"Khushi, he wanted you ten minutes back. Are you going to delay the inevitable further?" Manju was blunt.
"No... Manjuji, let me have a glass of water. I will go..." she breathed.
Khushi grabbed a glass of water and sipped it. Slowly.
"Laad Governaar kahin ka... Rakshas... Shaitan... Diliwala khadoos... Akhdoo Singh Raizada..." she chanted beneath her breath to Manju's amusement.
Soon the water was all gone from the glass and was churning in her tummy. She looked up. Manjuji was looking at her, the expression on her face almost comic.
Khushi drew in a deep breath, and slowly moved towards the door of the outhouse.
ASR looked at the clock. Where was she? Eagerness to see her and fury at not being able to see her roiled in his heart, making him edgy, restless.
He looked at the slow moving needle of the clock. Where the hell was she? As he turned away, his hand hit a file on the table. It fell to the ground, spilling its contents on the floor.
There was a timid knock on the door.
"Come in." he yelled.
The door opened. There she stood, dressed in a light pink anarkali with a silver hem. The colour added a sheen to the healthy glow of her face, and ASR stood spellbound at the sight.
Khushi looked at him and then at the file lying on the ground.
"Why were you late?" he barked.
Khushi forgot her fear in the face of such a direct attack.
"Why are you so angry?" she asked, looking him in the eye.
"Don't make me wait, Khushi. Ever." he growled. "I hate to wait."
Khushi sighed. "Who likes to wait, Baba?" she asked reasonably. "And what is the use of being so angry and knocking down files and making holes in walls with your stares? Will I get here any faster?" she asked.
"Where were you? Were you talking to NK?" Jealousy corroded his insides like acid.
"NK? Oh, Nanheji? No, I didn't see him. For your information, I was talking to myself." Khushi claimed.
Arnav frowned, his heart beat settling at her avowal that she had not been with NK.
"Talking to yourself?" he asked.
"Ji. I was looking at myself in the mirror in the washroom and talking to myself." she stated.
ASR had to look away to compose himself.
"Don't get so angry. You will fall sick. As it is you are diabetic. Why do you want to be more sick?" she asked, the very soul of reason.
But reason and an agitated ASR were sworn enemies.
He moved towards her.
She stepped back.
ASR stopped.
She stopped.
ASR stepped forward.
She stepped back.
He Devi Maiyya, why is this Rakshas coming towards me? Is he going to kiss my other palm?
Khushi quickly hid her palms behind her back, and stood straight.
ASR looked at her standing with her hands hidden behind her back lest he kiss them, and felt laughter bubbling within him.
"Did you sleep well last night, Khushi?" he asked softly, his husky voice driving all thought from her mind.
The bruises beneath her eyes, the pale face... they told their own tale. He knew her night had been as restless and as eventful as his had been.
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