Hello Readers
I am back to complete the story on IF. After IF was updated, I discontinued writing on it because I am not that tech-savvy. I instead started posting this story on Wattpad. But I could not afford to disappoint my readers on IF who have stayed with me for so long. I want each of you to know how much I value your presence on this journey. When I started writing this story, I was so new to all of this but your valuable comments have given me the encouragement to pursue writing as a full-time career. I am making a major career switch this year and am seeking everyone's best wishes and blessings. I will continue to write more for my readers on Wattpad. The platform is more user-friendly and saves time to PM. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I can't thank you enough and I will forever be grateful for the love you showed someone who was going through a particularly difficult phase in her life.
With lots of love and a humbled heart,
S
51
Two hours into the tour, and Khushi’s throat was feeling parched. She cursed her common sense, she had forgotten her water bottle. She looked around, only to realize that the only two people left on the tour from her group were herself and Arnav. Surely, the others were a few steps behind. They had just come around one of the fortress’ corners. Khushi stopped and turned back, only to have Arnav snap his fingers to her face.
Khushi stopped and turned to him in irritation. “I beg your pardon?”
Arnav snapped his fingers a few more times.
“Why are you doing this ASR?”
“Arnav. And please let’s not go through this again.”
“A..S..R... Remember that’s what you wanted me to call you when we began this entire charade? Well, congratulations, you’ve won. I concede.”
Arnav gritted his teeth. Just as he imagined his hands on her delicate neck wringing them.
He cleared his throat unwilling to let his mind take a fanciful flight. “In case you’ve lost your sense of direction, the tour is going that way.”
“I know, I was just looking for Aman.”
The green-eyed monster flared its head once again. “It seems you’ve lost your mind as well. Aman, Shyam and Di are part of the tour.”
“And it seems you’ve lost your eyesight. For if you look closely, you will notice that none of them are there.”
It was only then that Arnav cared to glance and his observations confirmed what Khushi was already telling him.
Before they could figure out what had happened to their three companions, the tour guide called out to them to stay with the group. “Let’s go with them for now”, Arnav hissed. “We’ll find them once the tour is over.”
And without waiting for a response from Khushi, he took her hand and forcefully dragged onwards.
****
The tour ended in Ducal Chapel where the guide continued giving the history of the palace. Arnav was busy texting on his phone and Khushi was not listening. She was mesmerized by the beautiful pictures, the rich motifs and the drawings that adorned the walls of the chapel. Mother Mary with baby Jesus on her lap was on the wall right in front of her. Saints marched all around. And the ceiling was painted with a picture of Christ rising to join his father in the heavenly abode with angels guiding his way. It all looked surreal, and the entire vision brought tears to her eyes. She was aware of being excessively emotional but she was lost in thoughts of her childhood, her faint memories of playing with her mother, and the dupatta she had bought for her, the only thing that remained with her of her mother.
Garima had never let her think she was not part of their family, but even then sometimes, Khushi wished, albeit fancifully to know what life might have been like if her parents had been alive. She wanted to understand, and perhaps she was frustrated because she was unable to. The Ducal chapel had walkways that connected the royal chambers to it. Without realizing what she was doing, Khushi began exploring those walkways. Arnav, seeing her leave the room, followed her to bring her back. And by the time the two came back, all tourists had left the spot, the door to the chapel was shut.
“Help”, shouted Khushi frantically banging the heavy wooden doors, that muffled her screams. She banged on her some more and then stopped, her hands hurting from contact.
Arnav looked at his mobile phone that indicated no reception. He looked at the door and then at Khushi and calmly proceeded to find a clean spot on the floor to sit down.
“What are you doing?”, questioned Khushi, fazed by his calm demeanor. “We’re stuck and you’re pretending as if we’re here on a picnic? God knows when we will get rescued.”
“Tomorrow morning at the latest”, he replied looking around for something he could use to create a fire. He got up and started feeling all of the candle sconces for an errant matchbox someone might have absently left.
“What are you doing ASR? Are you out of your mind?”, Khushi screamed, perturbed by his behavior as well as the onset of her claustrophobia. She pulled onto his jacket collar to forcefully turn him around when he held her wrist gently but firmly.
“I know you’re afraid of the dark and I’m looking for a matchbox to light those lone candles near Mother Mary’s statue. That should give us enough light until dawn.”
“But…”, her voice faltered. She knew this was all her fault. If only she had not gone exploring, but that was all done. Thank God Arnav had followed her. She couldn’t imagine being stuck in here, all by herself. She took a step back, but Arnav’s force kept her from retreating all the way.
“Tell me Khushi,” cajoled Arnav. And she rushed into his arms, hot tears burning her eyes. She hugged him and cried, cried for the little girl who lost her parents, cried for her uncertain future, cried for the debt she owed Shashi, Garima and Payal, cried because she was strong and cried because she was weak, cried because she was in love and cried because her self esteem wouldn’t let her seek that love. She cried. And cried some more. It was ironical, she felt that she should find solace in the arms of the man who had created this turbulence in her life in the first place. But she wasn’t going to think too hard. If he was offering her respite right now, she would gladly take it. Everything else, the friendships, the vengeance, the petty arguments, the one-upmanships, the complicated present, and uncertain future, everything could wait for the crack of dawn. Khushi Kumari Gupta was eight years old when she had lost her parents. She had been holding back for 16 years now. It’s time her tears were allowed to flow.
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