Chapter 28

Arnav wasn't a romantic.

 

He was compassionate, loyal and perhaps a tad bit emotional too, but of all the shades he owned, the role of a lover wasn't one of them. All of his girlfriends at Harvard realized that sooner or later; all except one.

 

She was a quirky girl, with strange thoughts and crazy ideas. He didn't know what made him date her; perhaps it was her gentle heart or her undeniable beauty. However, neither of those were enough to sustain their relationship for longer than three months.

 

They parted ways in a mutual understanding, and -thankfully- with no bitter feelings. But what she said to him on their last day together, was something Arnav couldn't forget till date:

 

"Colpo di fulmine," she told him in Italian, her native language. "Love is like lightning. You never know when it hits, but when it does, it just as fast and just as unexpected."

 

Of course, he had brushed her off that day, thinking it was one of the many random things she often used to say. Only, he wasn't so sure if it was just random anymore. There seemed to some deep truth hidden inside it, waiting patiently to be finally unveiled.

 

Incidentally, what made Arnav think about his Italian girlfriend and her parting words on a late Monday morning was not a trip down memory lane; it was the odd absence of his two-month old intern, Khushi Kumari Gupta. The same girl he spent his entire morning thinking about, the same girl who his brother was madly in love with, the same girl he unthinkingly kissed less than a week ago.

 

Arnav let out a sigh. Despite all his efforts to dismiss their slip of control, a passionate kiss that felt too good to be true, the memory kept finding a way back into his thoughts. And the fact that Khushi wasn't here only made it worse.

 

Of course, to any sensible person the reason behind her absence would be hard to miss. If Arnav didn't know better, he too would have easily guessed what made Khushi stay home, without even calling in to ask for a day off. After all, he did spent most of his weekend avoiding the media asking nonsense questions about his relationship status.

 

But he did know better.

 

If there was anything he learned in the past two months it was that rain or shine, Khushi always came to work. And that fact that no one could reach her meant bad news. Very bad news.

 

"Sir?"

 

Arnav turned away from his wall-sized window to look at his visitor, an employee from the purchasing department. "Well, where is the order for jacquard silk?"

 

"Um... actually, that file is with Khushi, Sir. And she didn't come to work today."

 

"She didn't?" he asked, feigning ignorance. "Is she sick?"

 

The employee shook her head. "I don't know Sir. She hasn't been picking up any of my calls."

 

Arnav nodded in disappointment. "Alright then. You can leave."

 

He knew she wouldn't pick up anyone's calls - after all, she had been royally ignoring his - but at the same time he couldn't stop himself from hoping that she would talk to someone.

 

There was only one option left now.

 

Pocketing his car keys, Aranv departed his office, ignoring the prying looks his employees passed along the way. It was fine if she didn't want to talk to him, but there was nothing stopping him from talking to her.  

 

Only, by the time Arnav was ascending the porch to the Gupta house, he felt as if he ran a hundred miles. Why was he so nervous? It's not like she could kick him out of the house.

 

Well, said a small voice in his head. It is Khushi...

 

Arnav snorted. True, he couldn't and wouldn't underestimate Khushi's capabilities. For that matter, he wouldn't underestimate his own either. So, confidently, he stretched out his hand and rang the doorbell. A young girl in her late teens, answered.

 

"Yes?" she asked, looking at him curiously.

 

"Erm... Is Khushi home?"

 

"Yes. You are?"

 

"Arnav Singh Raizada."

 

The girl nodded and stepped aside to let him in. "Please have a seat," she said, leading him to a vast living room off the entrance hall.

 

Arnav thanked her and nervously sat down on the snug couch. The room was casually decorated with beige-colored sofas, mahogany coffee tables and a maroon rug. What caught Arnav's attention, however, were the various pictures adorning the walls, all of Khushi in younger and definitely brighter days. It was fascinating to see her grow from frame to frame.

 

"Madamji?" called the girl who led him inside, walking back to the entrance hall.

 

"What is it Jaya?" replied Khushi's voice from the depths of the house.

 

"Someone is here to see you."

 

"Who?"

 

"Arnav Singh Raizada."

 

Silence followed Jaya's announcement, making Arnav, for the first time in his life, second-guess his decision. Was it too soon to come? Was he being insensitive by invading her personal space? After all, the incident at the Prakash's wasn't a small one - it had spread out control like wildfire.

 

Fortunately, he didn't have to ponder for too long. Khushi entered the living room, an apron thrown lazily over her sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Her hands were caked in batter, while blotches of flour covered her face. It was a shocking and not to mention, funny, change from her usual two-piece suits and prim appearance.

 

"Are you cooking?" he asked, stunned.

 

She cleared her throat. "Yeah."

 

"I didn't know Khushi Kumari Gupta cooks. What are you making?"

 

"Jalebis."

 

Arnav's mouth dropped open.

 

"What's the big deal?" she snapped. "Is cooking a crime?"

 

"Of course not... but don't you feel jalebis are a tad bit too easy for beginners like you?"

 

"If you are here to comment on what I do with my time, then this conversation is over."

 

Arnav didn't miss the grouchiness coloring her voice. He watched her closely, realizing almost instantly what was wrong. Her eyes were tired, bogged down by dark circles and a slight frown was forming on her lips.

 

She hadn't slept in days.

 

"I'm not here to taunt you," he said, in a gentler voice. "I'm here to make sure everything is alright."

 

"Why wouldn't I be alright?"

 

Arnav paused, noting how defensive she stood in front of him. "Well for starters, you have been ignoring my phone calls since this morning. Surely, it wouldn't have hurt to pick up at least one of them."

 

"I... I was busy."

 

Arnav raised an eyebrow. "With what? Covering yourself in jalebi batter?"

 

If it was any other day, she would have laughed at his jibe; but she didn't. Instead, she stared hard at him, no doubt trying to assess why he really was there.

 

Fortunately, Jaya arrived just then, breaking what would have otherwise been a very long silence. She was carrying a tray laden with tea and biscuits.

 

"Jaya?" Khushi said, once the maid set down the refreshments on the coffee table. "Didn't you have to go the market today?"

 

"Yes, but I can go later."

 

"No," Khushi replied firmly. "Go now... I'm in the mood for palak paneer today."

 

Jaya smiled. "Of course Madamji! I will be back soon."

 

And with that, she bustled off, leaving them completely alone in the house.

 

Arnav gazed at Khushi for a full minute before saying, "Should I take that as a hint?"

 

"Take what?"

 

He smirked. "Oh you know, the fact that you just dismissed your maid making us the only people in the house right now."

 

She stubbornly crossed her arms across her chest in response.

 

"It was a joke," he said. "The least you could do is laugh."

 

Khushi let out an impatient sigh. "What do you want? I'm not in the mood to play the guessing game."

 

His grin vanished. "No," he said, serious. "You can't play the guessing game with two hours of sleep or maybe even less."

 

"I'm fine."

 

"Are you? And please, save the ludicrous stories - we both know exactly how annoyed you are right now."

 

"If you know how annoyed I am, then why are you asking me all these useless questions?"

 

"Useless to you maybe, but not to me. It is a 11 o'clock right now and instead of being in my cabin, discussing what project we should be indulging ourselves with next, you are standing here in a complete mess, supposedly cooking. So do enlighten me birthday girl, what exactly about my questions is useless?"

 

Khushi averted her eyes, a sign that meant only one thing: she was loosing her ground. Satisfied, Arnav pressed on:

 

"So, are you going tell me the real reason why you are so diligently ignoring my calls or should I prolong this unwanted visit?"

 

She turned away, choosing to look at the walls instead of him. Irritated at her gesture, Arnav impatiently said:

 

"Look at me dammit!"

 

"What?" she snapped angrily, facing him once again. "What am I supposed to tell you? How broken up I am after that a*shole accused me of being a mistake? How horrified I am that the entire world knows about it now? What are you really expecting me to say?!"

 

"I am expecting to you," he replied, unperturbed at her outburst. "To tell me why you did not come to work today."

 

Khushi let out an exasperated sigh. "You're impossible," she muttered, before slumping down on the sofa and running her hands through her hair, leaving a small trail of now dried-batter behind.  

 

Arnav shook his head, amused at how comical she looked. Without hesitation, he pulled up the coffee table in front of her and sat down, reaching out to dust off the specks. 

 

"It's fine," she mumbled, though she made no attempt whatsoever to push his hands away. "I will just take a shower."

 

He ignored her.

 

"Seriously," she said, after a minute. "Who cares how my hair looks when the entire world thinks my mother is someone's mistress... or maybe even worse."

 

Arnav froze for the tiniest of seconds, double-checking that she had indeed said what he heard.

 

Unaware of his jolt, she continued: "It just boggles my mind how anyone is interested in my life? I mean, what does it matter to them who my parents are? I won't be less of a girl or a human being if I don't have father, right?"

 

Knowing full well that it was rhetorical question, Arnav didn't answer. Instead, he pretended to dust off the stains on her head, not wanting her to realize just how intently he was listening to every word slipping out of her mouth.

 

"Theoretically, yes, it doesn't make a difference who my patents are. But in reality, it makes all the difference in the world... funny how that works isn't it? You could spend your entire life slogging to simply survive, but you still won't even come close to being as important as that snobbish, spoilt brat born to a rich father."  

 

Unable to fake ignorance any longer, Arnav quietly leaned back and looked into her eyes. He felt as if a part of him just suddenly fell away.

 

"It's just like how it takes years to fix things, but only a second to break it... I can't believe I was stupid to forget that... to forget that no matter what, things will always blow apart."

 

He interrupted in a gentle voice. "Then it's not meant to be...  If things were supposed to last, they would last."

 

She snorted. "Yeah... just like how this is going to last - Khushi Kumari Gupta, daughter of a mistress."

 

"Daughter of a mother."

 

She stared at him, slightly aghast.

 

"People just like to talk," he continued in the same tone. "Since when have you started believing them?"

 

An odd expression crossed her face. "You think Gaurav was lying that night?"

 

"Are you suggesting otherwise?"

 

She simply continued to look at him, her face devoid of emotions.

 

Hating the engulfing silence, he said, "If I believed anything that imbecile said, I would not have walked out with you. It was obvious that he was just trying to put on a good show."

 

She took a deep breath. "Well that show is real... I am illegitimate. My father is Shashi Joshi."

 

Having expected something else entirely, Arnav was caught off guard to say the very least. He stared at Khushi, speechlessly asking her to elaborate. Surely, she didn't mean what she said?

 

"Yeah," she continued drily. "The papers got it right this time... well, almost right. My parents were married at some point believe it or not, but my father returned my mother's blind trust on him by having an affair with Juhi Roy, daughter of Balraj Roy, the owner of- you probably already know."

 

Arnav gave a curt nod.

 

"Yeah, I figured. So, then you probably also know how the story ends... Balraj Roy threatened my mom to back out from the marriage, and when she refused, he bribed everyone to make sure there was no marriage in the first place. By the end of it, me and my brother became the children of Shashi Joshi's mistress."

 

Arnav felt his head buzz with the sudden information and without intending to he began to piece together the puzzle that encompassed Khushi Kumari Gupta. Her peculiar thoughts, odd comments and unreasonable gestures suddenly all made sense. The reason she didn't believe in love, the reason she was so competitive and sometimes ruthless, the reason she refused to work for Joshi & Sons...

 

It was as if someone flicked on the lights in a very dark room.

 

"Does that answer your question?" she finished, giving him the most forlorn look he ever saw.

 

Arnav felt his heart prick, his abrupt realization fading away, replaced by a new contemplation. He had thought of no one but her the entire day, but after listening to her tale in a tone that screamed agony in every direction, the ache he felt was worse than what he experienced in her absence.  Why was it that her pain caused him pain, her happiness gave him happiness and her mere presence made him alive?

 

"It's fine," she said, when he didn't respond. "I don't need to be consoled... You don't even need to feel sorry for me. This was a long time ago... it doesn't matter anymore."

 

Even before she completed her sentence, however, Arnav understood the real problem.

 

She was embarrassed; humiliated that her weakness, the flaw she went out of her way to hide from the prying eyes of the world was standing out in the open; that the ever so strong Khushi Kumari Gupta, in the end, was nothing more than an unwanted child from a dysfunctional relationship.

 

Oh, how wrong she was!

 

"It won't make you weak Khushi," he finally said. "Accepting the fact that something horrible happened to you won't make you pitiful... it will make you a strong person."

 

She blinked, not having expected him to say her inhibitions out loud.

 

"You don't have to pretend everything is okay just to make me believe you are a strong person."

 

"I'm not pretending... I really don't care."

 

"Then why are you hiding? Why didn't you come to the office, ready with a retort to all the nosy questions? What happened to the Khushi Kumari Gupta?!"

 

She looked down at her lap, almost in a way of surrender.

 

Perhaps it was her sadness creeping through to him, or his own unexplainable desire to make her alright, but whatever it was, it was enough for Arnav to speak what would otherwise have taken him a long time to acknowledge:

 

 "When I saw you that night, arguing with me over an innocent kiss gone wrong, I knew that you were different. Different that you stood your ground, that you used your wits and that you didn't give up. You were, are and will always be the most genuine girl -no, woman- I have ever met in my life Khushi... And no one, including that imbecile Gaurav, your namesake father or the rubbish papers, will make me believe otherwise."

 

She was stunned to hear his words. If Arnav didn't know better, he would have thought a slight blush was coloring her cheeks.

 

"And if you want everyone to know what I know, then you have to stop hiding. If you choose to cling to Shashi Joshi's shadow, then you will always be the one who got left behind. If you choose to make a life for yourself, you will be always be Khushi Kumari Gupta, the woman who fought against all odds."

 

She blinked innocently. "You think so?"

 

"I know so." Then after a moment's silence, he added, "My counsel is always a hundred percent fail proof birthday girl."

 

Khushi smiled, remembering the last time he used those exact same words on her in his lavish office one evening, sporting a gaping cut on his arm. "Well, maybe I'm supposed to be your first failure?"

 

His hand automatically reached up to caress her soft cheek. "And I can believe anything but that."

 

Her grin grew wider and suddenly, Arnav felt himself slipping into her hazel colored eyes. It was almost as if they were calling out to him, telling him to hold on from somewhere deep within, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

 

Arnav looked away, realizing at the same time as Khushi, how close they were. Grudgingly withdrawing his arm, he stood up from the coffee table he was sitting on.

 

"Are you leaving?" she asked.

 

He cleared his throat. "Yeah... People will be looking for me. I should go."

 

She nodded.

 

"What about you?" he asked, not wanting to let the awkward silence settle in. "Are you still going to attempt jalebis?"

 

"It's not an attempt. I can make jalebis," she snapped. "Yeah they are a bit burnt, but I'm working on it, okay?"

 

Arnav stifled a snort. "If you say so. But just on a side note, I don't think even your brother can save you if one of your customers decides to prosecute you for food poisoning."

 

Khushi narrowed her eyes. "But before that, I am going to prosecute you for harassing me."

 

"Tsk tsk tsk birthday girl," he replied, mockingly shaking his head in disappointment. "Is this how you treat your guests?"

 

"Well is this how you treat the host?"

 

Arnav grinned. "Fine. I drop my charges - happy?"

 

"Very. But seriously - do you want anything to drink? Tea or coffee?"

 

"No, thank you. I really should get going."

 

Khushi's smile faltered slightly. "Was anyone in the office talking about this?"

 

He shrugged. "No one that matters. Besides, they know my tolerance on issues like this too well to risk gossiping out loud."

 

"And you? What do you really think?"

 

"I think what I you told you earlier. Gaurav put on a good show, but at the end of the day, that's what it is - a show. I didn't believe it that night nor do I believe it now."

 

"No," she mumbled. "I meant us... what do you think about us?"

 

Arnav stopped short. It was odd to hear her say that, to put both of them together in one sentence, in one word - us.

 

"And what if I asked you the same thing?" he finally said.

 

"You are avoiding the question-"

 

"No, on the contrary I'm telling you my answer - it's not that different from yours."

 

Not expecting her to reply, he gave her a curt nod and began to walk out of the living room when he heard her speak:

 

"Arnav?"

 

His heart froze for the tiniest of moments. It wasn't that it was the first time she called him by his name and neither was it the first time he was hearing it; but what was a first, was her voice. It held a life of its own.

 

"My answer is that you mean a lot to me," she said. "Not because you supported me that night, but because you stood by me today. You understand me better than I understand myself and for that... thank you. I know I'm bad at this whole friendship thing, but I do know what you mean to me. And it's not something I can put into words. "

 

Arnav glanced over his shoulder to meet her eyes, and felt as if every nerve of his body suddenly caught fire. His heart began to thud and for a short minute, he was sure he forgot to breathe. Blinking out his reverie, he gave her a small smile and left, having finally understood his Italian girlfriend's parting words.

 

It may take years to like someone, to get used to their presence in your life. Sometimes you may have to even go out of your way to keep them around, to make it work. But for love, it happens in a second or sometimes even less. Sometimes it happens underneath a starry sky or with a bottle of wine or for that matter in the living room of a renowned lawyer. But what matters is not where or when it happened. No, what matters is that it happened.

 

And to Arnav, that made all the sense there was in the world. But the question is, was he ready to accept what was so unashamedly staring in his face?