Chapter 3

"Arnavji," came the call. It was a feeble summons but the effect on Arnav was nothing short of a poke by an electric prod.

"Khushi," he whispered as he raced to her bedside.

He cupped her wan face in his hands and asked hoarsely, "Khushi, how are you feeling? Tum theek ho?"

She looked at him, asking him without words how she could be theek when she had lost her world. She tried to sit up and he helped her by placing pillows at her back to support her.

"Shall I call Amma and Buaji?" he asked.

"No," she said, her voice low but firm.

"Khushi, I am sorry," he said softly.

She looked at him silently for a long moment. Then she asked, "For what?"

"For hurting you in a hundred ways. For leaving you at the mandap," he said, his wet eyes meeting her dry ones.

She waited.

"For the baby. I had no right to touch you before marriage. For making you lose the baby. I... I..." he stopped, his chest tight with tears.

"Why should you apologise for my miscarriage?" Khushi asked. "Did you push me down the stairs as Shyam pushed your sister?"

"Khushi, I know you saw the photo in the newspaper," he murmured regretfully.

"Photo?" Khushi asked.

"The one of me and a girl. That pushed you down the steps, didn't it?" he asked.

"When someone took the photo of you with some girl, were you my husband?" Khushi asked.

He looked at her in astonishment for a long moment.

Then he said, "No."

"My fiance?"

"No,"

"My baaifriend?"

"No," he said, swallowing hard.

She looked him in the eye. "Our relationship at that point was that of two people who had decided to get married, but hadn't because you had developed cold feet. You were and are free to romance any girl you want. I had and have no right over you. If I saw you photo, felt hurt and fainted, then that is my problem, not yours."

"Khushi," he protested. "Khushi, how can you distance yourself from me?"

Khushi sighed. "I didn't. You did on the day of our wedding."

"Khushi." He had much to say but couldn't find words.

"I am not angry with you for not marrying me. I am not," she assured him. "If someone had told me on the day of our wedding that your mother had killed my parents, I too would have thought twice about marrying you."

Arnav could only stare at her.

"I am furious with you because you didn't show me the courtesy of coming to the mandap and telling me why you were going to do what you did," she said, her eyes dry.

"I am sorry, Khushi," he said.

"Do you think I would have begged you to marry me? Never. I would have told you to go away, far away from me and my family, away from the pain and the nightmares we had given you," she said.

He stared at her.

"We loved each other. Staying away from each other would have been a torture for both of us. At some point our love would have won over the past and the hate and we could have consciously put the past behind us and moved on. And then, maybe we could have had a chance at a life together. You stole the hope from our relationship," she said, her eyes and voice cold.

Arnav could only stare at her.

"You don't have to apologise for the baby. I was there too at the farmhouse that night. If you are apportioning blame, then half of it belongs to me," she said bluntly.

"Khushi, I didn't mean"Khushi," he tried.

"You never do, but everything turns out bad," Khushi's lips twisted in sarcasm.

He looked at her, helpless.

The rant lightened her heart of anger. Sorrow seeped in.

"You never learn, do you? You commit one mistake after the other, sometimes the same mistake over and over again, destroying other lives in the process. But you remain the same blind Arnav Singh Raizada," she whispered.

"Khushi, I am so sorry," he said. What else could he say when every word she spoke was the truth?

"Had you bothered to find out the truth on our wedding day, had you asked my Amma for the truth, had you given her a chance to speak, then our baby would have been alive today, we would have been married today," she said.

"Yes," he had to admit.

"Had you been a better man, had I fallen in love with a better man, my baby would have been alive today," she whispered, exhausted of fighting against her fate.

He stood before her knowing that he was a heel, unable to find words to express his regret.

She sat looking at the wall for long minutes.

Finally she said softly, "When the doctor told me that I was going to be a mother, it felt as though the sun had risen once more in the dark night that was my life. I felt as though Devi Maiyya had dropped all the blessings in the world on my lap. I thought I would have your child to love, a child who wouldn't leave me and go away, but..."

Arnav felt the lump in his throat grow.

"When Amma and Buaji asked me if you were to be informed, I was scared. What if you said the child was not yours? That I was as immoral as Amma? That I was lying to make a place for myself in your life? That I was hounding you for money? I told them that I didn't want you to know about the baby, that I would manage on my own without your help," she said. "But how could they let me do it? How could we hide the baby from you when you were Jiji's Jetji?"

"Khushi, I would never have," he started.

She cut in. "You would have. You would have forgotten the truth of what happened at the farmhouse just as you forgot that I saved you from the kidnappers when your sister tried to kill her baby. I am dispensable to you. That is why you forgot me as soon as I left Delhi."

"Khushi, don't say that I forgot you. Don't say that I don't love you," Arnav pleaded.

Khushi turned her head away.

"Khushi, there was not a moment when I didn't think of you. Day and night, all I thought about was you. I dreamed of you when I slept. I saw you before me when I was awake. How can you think I would forget you?" he asked, hurt to the core.

She refused to look at him.

"Khushi, the photo in the paper," he began.

Khushi did not bother to look at him.

"It was an event organised by the Chamber of Commerce. I had to attend it. I went alone. About ten minutes after I reached there, Mr. Mazumdar came with his newly-married son, Mukesh and his daughter-in-law. He introduced them to me. After a few minutes of small talk, he moved away. Mukesh moved a few metres away to answer a phone call. He motioned his bride to join him. She stepped forward from my left, crossed before me and walked away to her husband. The photo was taken then. If the picture wasn't so grainy, you would be able to see that she is standing not by me, but in front of me, facing her husband, smiling at him," he explained.

Khushi looked at him.

"I don't remember her name, Khushi. In fact, I didn't bother to force the paper to print an apology for that picture because it was so blatantly untrue. How can wedding bells ring for me and a married lady?" he asked.

Tears filled her eyes and dripped down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook in grief. Arnav gathered her in to his arms. "Khushi, don't cry. Please don't cry," he begged.

Her arms slowly crept around his shoulders and she sobbed her heart out. Arnav held her close to him, his body covering hers protectively.