Chapter 27

Silence filled the air. The Guptas and the Raizadas stared at Khushi, their mouths open.

Arnav looked down at his clenched fists in his lap.

Finally Anjali croaked, "No."

"You should have married him off, Anjaliji," Khushi laughed. "To someone with a temper worse than his. That would have been a perfect punishment for Arnavji." She looked at Arnav, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Arnav smiled slightly in response, his clenched jaw refusing to relax.

"He would have spent all his time saying What the, What the!" Khushi laughed, unaware that she had remembered something more about Arnav.

Arnav drew in a deep breath to brace himself. She was beginning to learn him once more. She was on the way to recalling and knowing him. His fate would be decided soon.

"Hello Hi Bye Bye!" Mami said, fanning herself.

"Hai Re Nandkisore!" Buaji whispered. It was as though Arnav's presence had opened the floodgates of Khushi's memory. She was regaining her memory very fast.

Unaware of the shock she had just given the families, Khushi dumped a load of pakoras on Arnav's plate and moved his tea closer to his plate.

"Ab aap khayiye," she told him.

Arnav nodded but did not touch the snacks. The boulder in his throat would not let him swallow.

"Jiji!" Khushi called Payal. "Your Jetji has some secret enmity with food. He is not taking the pakoras. Jiji, I will make karela for him at night. We have to keep him healthy somehow."

Payal's smile faltered. The Guptas and the Raizadas looked at each other. Khushi had remembered that karela was Arnav's favourite vegetable.

"And I will make sugar-free halwa for you," Khushi promised Arnav. "Ab aap pakore khayiye."

Arnav nodded obediently.

It was night.

Khushi stood at her window, letting the wind play with the loose strands of her hair.

She shut her eyes, her mind racing to the night at Sheesh Mahal when she had fallen in to Arnavji's arms. She had been scared, very scared as she had been pushed on to the stage. But when she had looked in to his angry eyes, the panic had stemmed, overpowered by some kind of magical spell that had fallen over her.

His arms had been hard, his hold tight. But soon the fingers on her waist had softened, gentled. The anger in his eyes had become something else; some nameless emotion had filled his eyes and trapped hers.

And when he had questioned her... there had been anger in his voice, a sense of betrayal, a need for revenge. But underlying the fury had been pathos, a deep anguish that had tugged at something in her heart.

That was why she had not been able to badmouth him to her family, curse him, vent against him. She had taken the blame on herself and stayed quiet, her heart and mind full of his hurt eyes and his pain-laced insults.

Khushi turned and walked to her bed.

As she lay there looking at the ceiling, she thought about the Arnavji at Sheesh Mahal and Arnavji now. Then he has been a monster or a man driven by demons. Now he was calmer. A man carrying some great burden on his shoulders. His eyes always looked wounded, sad. Why had akhdoo Arnavji become such a dukhi atma?

She jumped out of bed and walked to Arnavji's room to find answers.

The door was shut but not locked. She pushed it open and walked in to stand by his bed and look down at his sleeping visage.

Arnavji was wearing a purple T-shirt with full sleeves. His eyes were shut and his head was resting against a white pillow with a small butterfly that she had embroidered on it many years back.

As she watched, a frown appeared on his forehead and he turned his head restlessly on the pillow. The fingers of the hands on his chest and stomach clenched.

Khushi placed her hand on the hand on his chest, rubbing his fingers gently, trying to comfort him in his nightmare.

As she watched, the frown vanished, the fingers relaxed and he slipped in to deep sleep.

'Who is this man?' Khushi asked herself. 'Why do I feel there is an invisible bond between him and me, something greater than I know?'

She sat looking at his face, first minutes and then hours passing by as she studied his face and his features, trying to remember him, recognise him and maybe etch him on the canvas of her mind so that she wouldn't forget him again.

Buaji came early in the morning to wake up Khushi. Munna and Krishna would be arriving in a few minutes and Khushi had to accompany them to the sweet shop.

Buaji looked at Khushi's pristine bed. It had not been slept in. Her heart jumped to her throat.

"Hai Re Nandkisore! Where is the Sanka Devi?" Buaji looked under the bed. It was free of Khushi. She peeked in to the bathroom. Again, no Khushi.

Buaji parted her lips to holler for Garima, but stopped herself. She walked to Arnav's room on silent feet.

The door was open.

Arnav was asleep on his back.

Khushi was lying on him, her legs coiled around him to keep him in place. The fingers of her left hand were curled around the neck of his T-shirt, holding on tight to him.

Her right arm was on his left. Her head was tucked in the crook of his neck and she was clinging on to him like a limpet.

Both of them were fast asleep.

"Hai Re Nandkisore!" Buaji whispered as she leaned against the door for support.