Chapter 34

-Archi-

@-Archi-

Hey guys,

I'm short on time, so I couldn't reply to all your wonderful comments. But like I always, I loved every single one of them. So, without delay, here is the next part:

Jaane Doh Naa

-CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE-

A Test of Faith

Ayesha clutched her stomach in agony, roaring with laughter. "Please stop!" she begged. "I can't laugh more!"

Aman grinned. "But it's not even that funny... wait till you hear-"

"No, please! I had enough for one night!"

He shrugged in reply.

It was well past midnight, the party breathing its last as people stumbled home and the hotel staff hurried to clean. The few remaining people were scattered across the vast room, some whispering hurriedly about the gossip they just heard, while others tried to guess the outcome of next day's show. But the air of conversation at a table in the far corner of the room was far from the politics of the fashion industry.

Aman and Ayesha were sitting together, conversing as two long lost friends. What was even more interesting was Ayesha's continuous laughter, making Aman completely amused. He vaguely wondered if it was the wine that was making her so susceptible to his jokes, or if it was her natural sense on humor. Whatever it was, he didn't seem to mind it.

"You know," she said, finally hiccupping herself back to seriousness. "I never laughed this hard in my life... how the hell do you come with such funny jokes?"

"I think you are exaggerating," he answered, sipping the berry forest she ordered a few hours ago. "I'm not that funny..."

"Then you have met some serious people then," she said, unconvinced.

"Well, I do work with Arnav Singh Raizada."

And Ayesha burst into giggles once again, leaving him completely bewildered.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing... by the way, you never told me why you work for him when you hate it?"

"I don't hate it..."

"Of course you do," she said nonchalantly. "I know Arnav is nice and all that, but he is a disaster to work with... his anger, his attitude... thank god I turned out to be Khushi's friend, or I would have been toast by now."

Aman smiled in understanding. "He likes you not only because you are Bhabhi's friend you know..."

"Don't lie!"

"I'm not," he replied honestly. "He is grateful to you for looking after her, but he enjoys talking to you... a sane and completely drama-free person in his life."

"Drama-free, I will believe... but sane? I don't think so... even I know how insane I can be."

"Then you don't see yourself clearly enough."

Ayesha was caught off guard with how easily he passed his comment. Given her record with people, even she knew that she wasn't the most admirable person alive... and yet, he didn't agree.

"Or you haven't understood me as well as you think you have," she finally said.

"And why is that?"

"I'm not dumb," she said, slowly. "I know what people think about me... I'm outspoken to the point it's rude, I'm arrogant... the list goes on."

"And so they do... but if you think all that about yourself, then my point still stands."

"Why shouldn't I?" she challenged. "I'm not a naive little girl to believe I'm the most desirable person in the world. I know who I am."

"Are you really not? A naive little girl?"

Ayesha looked away, her eyes falling on a couple on the other side of the room, who were wrapped so closely around each other that it was impossible to tell them apart save for their different colored clothing. But she didn't see them or the cleaning staff wiping the floors beside them. In fact the image that ran in front of her eyes was that of a little girl, sketching away on a blank piece paper the story of Cinderella amidst the daunting walls of Delhi's Ashram.

"I used to wish I had a fairy godmother when I was small," she whispered. "And when I grew older and realized there was no such thing as magic, I wished for a Prince. And when I grew even older and realized there were no Princes, I wished for a husband."

Aman listened intently, knowing he touched a tender spot in her heart.

"But girls like me don't deserve husbands," she said, her tone suddenly harsh, while she continued to look at the unknown couple. "I'm not the material you take home to show your mother, or the type to be a wife..."

She slowly turned back to see his patient face. "Men either get intimidated by me," she continued. "Or see me as a fling to be used and then trashed. I don't get asked for dates or proposed for commitments."

"Then the men you have met are not worthy of your love," he replied quietly.

A sad smile spread up her face. "Then I guess no one is worthy of love."

Aman simply gazed at her in answer, debating about his reply.

"Sometimes," she said, looking down to her folded hands in her lap. "I wish I was Khushi... it's so simple for her. She knows what she wants, and how to want it."

"And I'm sure she thinks the same about you too."

Ayesha snorted. "Well, that's because she is an idiot. She just loves to throw away her happy ending... Maybe that's why everyone likes her so much."

He didn't reply, forcing Ayesha to meet his eyes.

"Don't get me wrong," she said quickly. "I'm not jealous of her... or at least, I don't think I am. But she is everything I wanted to be..."

"And you are," he answered. "You just don't show it..."

Ayesha wasn't convinced. She knew it was just consolation, empty words to silence her. And all of a sudden, she felt foolish for letting out so much. How was it that he always managed to break down the many walls she built around herself?

"I should go," she said, standing up, determined not to let anything else spill. "It was... nice, talking to you Mr. Mathur."

"Aman."

"Okay. Good night!"

And she hurried out of the banquet hall without another word.

Aman let out a sigh as he too slowly got up and began edging to the exit, adding another page to the book called Ayesha' as he did. He wasn't surprised to hear the longing in her voice, the longing for a simple life with a happy ending... but what did catch him off guard was the simplicity with which she classified everything, Arnav's opinion, people's misconceptions, her own life and perhaps, the most shocking of all, her best friend's love.

It was so easy for her to say that Khushi had it simple... as if loving someone and having that person return the feelings was the best and only part of life. She had so conveniently ignored the months of anguish both Arnav and Khushi have undergone to reach such an understanding.

But even with these strange observations circling his thoughtful mind, it didn't take him long to realize that it was in Ayesha's nature to see things so simply. To her, things were either black or white. If only she understood the varying hues of grey in between... it would have allowed to her to see how unique she was and more than that, accept it.

If only she knew there was no such thing as a good or bad person; a lost or secured love; a cruel or pleasant fate.

If only.

* * *

Khushi twisted in the sheets, struggling to shield her eyes from the morning sunrays that flooded the room. And yet, no matter how much she tried to turn, she found that a heavy weight held her clamped to the soft covers. Too sleepy to notice the unusual warmth, she snuggled deeper into her bed accepting the comfort without any questions asked.

But alas, no sooner had she settled down into slumber, she felt her pillow vibrating rather rudely. Groaning quietly her hand inched around until she located the source of the inconvenience; it was her phone, or at least that's what she thought.

"Hello?"

"Chote?!"

Khushi's eyes snapped open as Anjali's voice echoed through the phone, sleep driven far from her mind. She looked at the screen to see the caller-id she didn't bother to check, to notice that the device wasn't even hers to begin with.

And that's when she finally acknowledged the warm body pressed against hers. The weight which comfortably seemed to hold her together was none other than Arnav, who was peacefully asleep, lost so far from this world that he didn't even stir upon hearing his phone ring.

"Hello?"

Anjali's voice brought Khushi back to more pressing matters at hand. She gulped, trying to push the drowsiness from her voice.

"Hello?"

"Khushiji?!" Anjali's voice was surprised to the say very least.

"Yeah... its me."

Silence followed her words as the two ladies pondered over the unexpected call. It was Anjali who spoke again.

"Is Chote there?" There was almost a hint of a smile in her voice. No doubt she made the calculation that if Arnav's phone was here, so was he, which clearly showed where he spent the night.

"No," Khushi answered quickly. She had no intentions of letting Anjali even get a whiff of what transpired the previous night. "No... he is not here."

"Then why do you have his phone?"

"Ummm... actually he forgot his phone here last night..."

"Chote was with you last night?!"

Khushi cursed her luck as she struggled to come up with a reply. "No..." she began slowly. "I mean yes... I mean... we had a party... you know for the success of our show..."

"Yes... and?"

"And it got late so Chote, I mean Arnav dropped me home-"

"Arnav?"

Shit, she cursed mentally.

"So Arnavji is now Arnav?" Anjali asked, the teasing evident in her tone.

"Ermm... no," Khushi answered, choosing her words carefully. "I meant Arnavji... he ummm dropped me home, you know-"

"Because it was late," Anjali finished. "And he ended up staying over?"

"NO!!"

Arnav moaned as Khushi's loud voice echoed through the room. She froze in place, listening cautiously, while sending up silent prayers to her trusted Devi Maiyya. And they were heard, for Arnav slowly turned to the other side and quickly fell asleep.

Anjali on the other hand appeared a bit worried. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Khushi said, heaving a sigh of relief. "I mean he didn't stay the night... he just forgot his phone here with me."

"Really?" Anjali replied, disbelief creeping into her voice. "But Chote never forgets his phone..."

"Well... he did now..."

"And he didn't come back to take it?"

"Ermm... it was late Di, so you know... he didn't come."

"You sure?" Anjali pressed. "Because he knows I call every morning to remind him about his medicines, so there is no way he forgot about that unless... you know, he was busy."

"No," Khushi objected. "No... he remembered he forgot his phone... so he called me to ask if I had it and-"

"How did he call if he didn't have his phone?"

Khushi groaned inwardly. Why was Anjali being so difficult?! "Ummm... he called... from the hotel."

"Ohhh... and you said he didn't come to take it back?"

"He didn't... because you know it was late and I didn't want him to come here... because that would be..."

"Bad," Anjali finished. "Yes, Chote coming so late is bad."

Khushi didn't know if Anjali was serious or was simply mocking her. "Anyway," she said, wanting to change the topic. "Was there something you wanted to tell him?"

"Ohh... nothing really. And I am so sorry to disturb you so early in the morning Khushiji. I know you must be tired-"

"No," Khushi interrupted, a bit too quickly. "Why would I be tired? I am perfectly fine!"

Anjali paused not missing the anxiousness in the latter's voice. "I thought it was a late night party so you must be tired."

"Ohhh..."

"What did you think I was talking about?"

Khushi turned crimson, as she understood the implication. "Nothing," she croaked. "Nothing at all... I should go Di. I will tell Arnavji you called when he wak-comes... to pick up his phone."

Anjali supressed a giggle. "Sure!"

"Bye Di!"

Khushi was about to about to end the call when Anjali spoke again. "By the way Khushiji,"

"Hmm?"

"I hope you know that it's completely okay if you did spend the night with Chote."

"No Di, there's nothi-"

"Tell him to call me when he wakes up," And after a moment's of hesitation, she added "Bhabhi!"

Khushi closed her eyes in mortification as the phone went dead. She almost see the grin spreading up Anjali's face as she went down to breakfast, debating whether to answer the curious questions about the reason for her sudden happiness. This was not good.

In fact, it was worse than that. It was bad.

She stared at the white ceiling, her mind reminiscing the events of the previous night. The show... the dance... her screams... his kiss. She felt her heart tingle as a rush of memories flooded her eyes. Only, what happened after she said his name properly for the first time was something she could feel.

She could feel Arnav's hands running over her waist, as his lips tickled her neck. She could smell his cologne as his hands slowly took off the pins holding her sari together. She could hear the thuds of her heart as her arms roamed across his chest. It was such a strange feeling.

And even through the bliss of it all, an uncertainty loomed over. There were so many questions left unanswered, so many decisions yet to be made... why did she ignore rationality when in his arms?

Khushi slowly turned to face the sleeping form of Arnav, her eyes slowly traveling over the contours of his face. She couldn't say he was perfect, but somehow in the light flickering through the room, she knew he was. He was the Prince she dreamed endlessly about; The Prince with a dark past and a thousand complications.

She contemplated over it, remembering explicitly his explanations from the previous night.

I'm not good for you. You deserve someone much better... someone who can fulfill your dreams. Someone, who doesn't need proof to believe you.

Of course, all of that was forgotten in the aftermath of her outburst, but the night was over and so was the darkness. It was a new day and what was the guarantee he didn't still feel the same way about her. What if he decided to leave because she "deserved" someone else?

Khushi let out a sigh as she realized the difficulties of the situation in hand. She slowly ran a hand through Arnav's ruffled hair, knowing that she wouldn't have the chance when he woke up. Knowing that the decision now lay with him and him alone.

Dread suddenly gripped her as she realized with a jolt that she wouldn't be able to face it. She wouldn't be able to face his rejection all over again. And it was this thought that pushed her out of the warm covers.

She dressed in silence, vaguely wondering if Ayesha ever made it home last night. After one final brush through her hair, Khushi was ready to leave. She pulled out a piece of paper from her purse and after a long debate she settled with just one line:

Lock the house when you leave.

With a heavy heart, she placed her keys on the dresser with the note and took one last look at the peaceful Arnav, before walking out the door.

___________________________________________________________________________

All I'm gonna say is - KEEP CALM AND TRUST ARCHI!