Chapter 2

With difficulty, she managed to place in atop the counter in front of her. "At this rate, designing clothes will be more expensive than buying gold!"

 

Khushi looked at the girl infront of her, waiting for a response (a usual "hmmm" or "yeah, you are right"), but received nothing in return. She rolled her eyes and said in an exasperated voice, "Seriously Ayesh, why are you freaking out? Why don't you"- her fingers made quotation marks in the air- "chill?"

 

Ayesh – Ayesha Kapoor – stared blankly at her best friend, her face pale and sweaty. Being in her mid-twentines, she had long legs, a killer-figure and curly hair that framed her small face. If Khushi didn't love her to the core, she would have been very envious of her. She held a certain aura, that drew your eyes to her whether you wanted it to or not.

 

"Khushi," Ayesha whispered. "What will happen to us?"

 

"Nothing," Khushi answered, nonchalantly. She instantly recognized this as the onset of a breakdown, which Ayesha had atleast once week. She was in all sense – a drama queen. "Stop worrying and try to breathe okay?"

 

The corner's of Ayesha's mouth began to quiver. "I am breathing!"

 

Khushi only shook her head. "Its very simple my love," she said, walking over to sit beside her on the plush sofa. "One breath in, one breath out. And repeat!"

 

"Okay, stop making fun of me! But seriously, I am getting worried… will they like our designs?"

 

Khushi looked at her best friend, seeing not the stylish fashion designer Ayesha Kapoor, who made the papers almost every day, but the lost girl she found, stranded on the train to Lucknow which she stumbled upon almost two years ago now. It was a very dark night, with two girls sitting in the same compartment, trying to somehow patch up their broken hearts.

 

For Khushi it was her contract marriage, which she ended on her own terms, and yet still didn't find peace. The moment she stepped out of the Raizada house, she thought she would feel relief; free of the burden that was thrust upon her shoulders. Only she didn't. She was in all sense, alone in the world once again and more than that completely hollow on the inside. Her eyes even refused to shed tears. She stumbled across Delhi for an entire day, before finally deciding to pay Lucknow a visit. Afterall, it was where her life started. But Devi Maiyya seemed to have other plans (no change there!) and she met the girl who became her life.

 

And for Ayesha, it was a fake engagement that broke her. Being orphaned at the age of six, she had many dreams of starting a family of her own, and when she thought she finally found her Prince Charming, he ended up using her. Angry, she caught the first train she saw, away from the mockery she became.

 

What transpired on the train that night was not something the girls could put in words, but it was definetly one of the strongest things they ever felt in their lives. It was almost as if fate gave them a chance to rebuild their hearts, away from the people who destroyed them.

 

And two years from then, both Khushi and Ayesha were found ruling the city of Pune with AK's Seams of Style, a boutique which was recently given the number one position in the world of fashion. How, when and why they got there, was a story only they knew. It was just two years of labour, luck and dedication. Their anger at fate, resentment at life and disappointment with their weakness somehow brought out beautiful designs, which were found in almost every magazine now.

 

Of course, the most important of all the changes in their lives, was their friendship. Ayesha and Khushi could be almost called twins now. They read eachother's mind, wore eachother's clothes and more importantly helped each other in ways that even their family couldn't. It was soothing for both to wake up every day, without having to worry about pretenses or pain or heart breaks. And for Khushi, that was more than she could ask for it. It almost felt surreal that she was forced into a marriage of hate and that too on a contract!

 

"We should cancel the meeting," Ayesha said, bringing Khushi back from her thoughts. "We are not ready."

 

"Of course we are ready!"

 

Khushi stood up and began tidying up the cluttered room. But it was no use. It was a vast space, with shelves lining up the walls, where endless rolls of fabric were stored. In the center was a huge a counter, on which there was everything and anything, including their half eaten dinner.  There were also boxes and boxes of threads, beads, glues and a sewing machine stowed in the corner. It was a muddled place, but was the girls' favourite room. This is where they designed clothes, the one place they left all their troubles at the door. 

 

However, it was a stressful week for them both.

 

After climbing high on the success ladder, they finally started receiving offers from big companies and after many negotiations, one of the companies finally agreed to come see their designs. Of course, every since they got the confirmation, Ayesha was on a roller coaster of emotions, changing from being excited to being depressed in a matter of minutes. Sometimes, Khushi failed to understand how her friend could experience all these things at once! But she accepted it with delight, for Ayesha was the only colour left in her life.

 

"Maybe we should try to westernise this," Ayesha said, picking up a bridal outfit they only managed to finish yesterday. "Its too traditional… you know what I mean?"

 

Khushi tilted her head, trying to find faults, but she couldn't. It was a beautiful design, definetly the jewel of their collection. "No Ayesh… Its perfect. Besides, wedding outfits should be traditional."

 

Ayesha rolled her eyes. "Gosh, you are still the same. Wake up baby; this is the twenty-first century!"

 

"How much more do you want me to change? I already stopped wearing salwars, had my hair cut and started wearing high heels!"

 

Ayesha grinned. "They look good on you! Trust me!"

 

"Always do!"

 

In addition to the dramatic changes in her appearance, Khushi also owned something else – a degree in fashion designing. She was proud of it, because it meant that she would never be thought of as a worthless thing, who didn't have a place in the world of the rich. Of course, not that she had a choice – when Ayesha decided on something, it happened, even if the world burned down in the process.

 

"This is good," Ayesha said, picking up a royal blue salwar. "I like how you added the ruffles in the end. It's a nice touch!"

 

Khushi took a bow. "Thank you! Does this mean I get a pay raise?"

 

"Depends," Ayesha answered, looking through the rest of their outfits. "How many times are you willing to make tea for me?"

 

Khushi laughed. "So, I am judged not on how I sew, but on how I make tea for you?"

 

"Of course! I have told you many times, you should start a side chain – Khushi ki Chai; joh bhi piye, sirf khushiyan hi khushiyan!" (Translation: Khushi's Tea; whoever drinks, they will find only happiness!)

 

"You know, I am so glad, you didn't come up with the name for our boutique. You suck!"

 

Ayesha aimed a scarf at Khushi. "Shut-up!"

 

The two girls fell into silence, as Ayesha once again inspected their collection. She was a perfectionist – from the way she dressed to the way she designed. Khushi sometimes couldn't help but admire her strength. She somehow pulled her up from the depths of despair she was locked in. She managed to push her into getting a degree. She inspired her to become a designer. And she taught her how to move on. At times, Khushi seriously wondered where she would have been if it wasn't for this being named Ayesha Kapoor.

 

"That's everything," Ayesha said finally, before sitting down on the sofa once again.

 

Khushi nodded. The designs passed the inspection, so they were beyond good!

 

"Wait!" Ayesh said suddenly, sitting up. "WHERE ARE THE CONTRACT PAPERS?!"

 

Khushi jumped at the outburst as Ayesha began to frantically look for the papers.

 

"AYESHA!" Khushi yelled back. "They are right beside you! CALM DOWN!"

 

Ayesha heaved a sigh of relief and slumped back onto the couch.

 

"I swear Ayesha," Khushi said, shaking her head. "I feel sorry for your heart! The poor thing always works on overtime. I wouldn't be surprised if it gave up on you one day!"

 

"But I will still live, just to annoy the hell out of you!"

 

"I love you too Ayesh!"

 

Ayesha snorted and quickly settled into her world of gloom. "I really hope we get this…"

 

"You will," Khushi answered confidently. "I mean after obessing about designing for big companies for almost all your life now, Devi Maiyya has no choice but to relent, right?"

 

"You know, if it was upto your Devi Maiyya, my parents would still have been alive."

 

Ayesha was an atheist, but Khushi believed it to only be resentment at all the bad things in her life. "And then would you have met me?"

 

"It was random chance we both took the same train… nothing more."

 

"Forget it," Khushi said. "Arguing with you is impossible. Anyway, you never told me which company is coming to see the collection!"

 

"Seriously?" Ayesha's voice was exasperated. "Why don't you do the paper work with me? Then you would know exactly who was coming today!"

 

"Oh please… I can't do all that. Its boring and looks like gibberish to me!"

 

"Yeah, but if something happens to me and-"

 

Khushi silenced her with a finger on her lip. "I already lost my family twice… I am not going to let it happen a third time."

 

Before Ayesha could answer however, they heard a car pull up into the drive away.

 

"THEY ARE HERE!" she squealed. And after a quick look in the mirror, she picked up the file and dashed out of the room to greet the guests.

 

Khushi almost laughed. Two minutes ago, she thought, picking up the dresses they were about to present. She was worried about them showing up… and now, she is jumping up and down in excitement, not even nervous. And I am pretty sure, outside, she will be all professional, as if she doesn't give a damn about the company who is coming to see the designs!

 

As she took a last sweep of the room, her eyes fell on the idol of Durga. With a smile, she folded her hands in a prayer and said "Please Devi Maiyya, let the company people like our designs. Ayesha worked hard on them, and even though she is angry with you, help her out!"

 

Touching her feet, Khushi took a deep breath and walked out into the living room, where the sponsors were seated.

 

"Good Morning," she greeted cheerfully before stopping short, her voice caught in her throat.