Chapter 23

"Khushi..." Arnav called. It was noon. Khushi had returned from her shop and the whole family had shared lunch.

Khushi turned to look at her Jiji's Jetji who was standing at the entrance to her bedroom. "Ji?" she asked, surprised to see him there.

"I promised to help you remember the past, " Arnav reminded her.

"Ji," Khushi smiled, happy.

"Are you free now?" Arnav asked.

"Ji. I finished today's work at the shop," Khushi chattered away as she set two chairs for them to sit and discuss the past. "I made halwa and laddoo. Munna made peda and kheer. Krishna made gulab jamun and jalebi."

"You didn't make jalebi?" Arnav asked, his intent eyes on Khushi's face.

"No," Khushi frowned. "I don't like making them. Pata nahi kyon, I feel sad when I see jalebis."

Arnav swallowed. Hard.

"Aap baitiye. Why are you standing?" Khushi pointed to a chair. Arnav sat. Khushi quickly occupied the chair next to him and leaned forward eagerly as if expecting him to hand over her lost memories to her immediately, as if to witness a miracle or a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat.

Arnav took a deep breath. This was the beginning of the end. He savoured the happiness on her innocent face for a long moment before asking, "Khushi, what is the last thing you remember?"

"Jiji's marriage," Khushi smiled. "The house was full of our neighbours. Babuji had arranged for lights to be hung all over the house. Jiji looked so beautiful. Akash Jiju is very lucky to get my Jiji," Khushi smiled.

"Yes, he is," Arnav said softly.

Khushi frowned, "But I don't remember seeing you, Arnavji. How can Jiju get married without you?" She looked directly in to his eyes. "Didn't you attend his marriage?"

Arnav swallowed. "Khushi, do you remember seeing Nani or Mami or Mama or Di at the wedding?"

"No," Khushi frowned.

"Do you remember the wedding?" he asked.

Khushi grimaced. "No."

Arnav looked at Khushi for a moment. "Khushi, what were you wearing for the wedding?"

Khushi smiled. "A green lehenga. With pearls sewn on it. I had matching pearl earrings. Bada wala. They were so heavy."

"You have it with you now?" Arnav asked, his heart thudding. He was moving towards her enlightenment and his ruin on slow but sure steps.

Khushi looked bemused for a second. She then got up, went to the cupboard in one corner of the room and began digging in to the huge piles of dresses.

Arnav watched her with sad eyes.

Finally she emerged victorious, dragging the lehenga, choli and dupatta from the closet. "This is the one," she told Arnav. She brought it to him and said, "It is pretty, isn't it?"

Arnav nodded. He slowly unfolded the dupatta, spreading it over his hands. Khushi looked at the quaint sight of the delicate cloth lying over his masculine arms.

"Is the lehenga in a good condition?" he asked softly.

"Why shouldn't it be in a good condition?" Khushi asked, an eyebrow raised in mock anger. "Aap ko bata doon, I always take good care of my clothes." She lifted the lehenga high up in the air to show him its perfect condition. Then she held it against her waist and turned around, letting the folds fly around her.

"Now I look like a titliyaa, Buaji's titliyaa..." Khushi laughed, still twirling.

"Why don't you wear it? You can shock Buaji," Arnav suggested.

"Yes," Khushi's eyes lit up with naughty laughter. "I will change. But aap please promise keejiye that you won't go away while I am changing," Khushi demanded.

"I won't go anywhere, Khushi... till you send me away," Arnav said softly.

Khushi frowned at him. "Are you sure you are not a poet? Woh kya he, I can't understand half of the things you say."

"No, I am not a poet. I am a businessman. I own a fashion house where we design clothes and models display them in fashion shows," Arnav said.

"Acha?" Khushi voice was unsure, her tone screaming her uncertainty. She looked down at the dress in her hand. "I will change."

"I will wait," Arnav promised.

A few moments later, Khushi called from the bathroom. "Arnavji, are you there?"

"Yes."

Khushi emerged, dressed in the green lehenga. She twirled. The pearl doris of her choli were tied at her back.

So someone had repaired the broken pearl strings, Arnav surmised.

"Khushi, can you get on to this chair?" Arnav asked.

"Ji?" Khushi's face showed her confusion.

"I just need to look at the hem of your lehenga. The work is beautiful," Arnav said.

Khushi clambered on to the chair.

Arnav took a deep breath. "Khushi!" he called loudly to startle her.

Khushi turned around on the flimsy chair. Her arms flailed as she tried to retain her foothold and her balance. Failing in her attempt, Khushi began to fall.