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Those eyes when she looked up at him... he hardened himself to face them. Was that a shadow of guilt that passed over them before she covered it up with indignation?
"Hume bhi zaroorat nahin hai aapke har sawal ka jawab dene ki," she said, "ab to Jiji ki shaadi ho gayi hai. Aapki sari sharton pe hamne dastkhat kiye hai, aur hum apke jaise nahin ki badal jayen." So she would not speak of her relation with Shyam. How old was she? Nineteen? Where did she learn this much deception?
Her eyes looked clear now, even challenging. In all this time through the evening, he had looked at her, but not really seen her. How that maang-tika covered the sindoor he had filled in and glowed, as if with pride. Her bindi, darker than the ones she usually wore, beckoned his eyes to her skin. Her skin--how did she manage to keep it so pristine? Did she have a portrait tucked away somewhere, her alter ego, that got marked by her sins while she remained untouched, inviolate? So hard to imagine this face with that beast. How old was he, thirty-five? Double her age, the pedophile! What did she see in that creep? He was not handsomer than Arnav Singh Raizada, did not have the Raizada millions. Why did she prefer Shyam to him? He felt rage rise in him again, and felt her gasp in pain.
He looked down to her face..his lips now hovered over hers, and his fingers, that had been stroking her jaw had suddenly gripped her hard, hurting her. How did he get so close to her? He heard a knock on the door, and removed his hand, which he realized was trembling now. Shoving the errant hand into the pocket of his trouser, he walked to the door and opened it. Hari Prakash stood outside, a packet in one hand, a small covered plate in the other. "Anjaliji said you must be hungry", he said, as he handed over the plate, "and this is for Khushiji."
After he had placed the plate on the table and closed the door, he turned to find her gone. He checked the bathroom, then walked out to the poolside. She stood outlined against the fairy lights, her shoulders heaving.
"Khushi. Di sent this for you," he said, handing her the packet.
When she made no move to take it, he held her forearm and turned her around. She wiped her face with her other hand, causing her bangles to rush together and make their music. The bangles he had given her, his first gift to her, the ones she had shaken in front of him during the photo-shoot, jangling them together. Was she the same Khushi, who had been hugging that two-faced bas***d on the terrace, those bangles still on her arm as she embraced another man?
He dragged her in, then slammed the glass doors shut, making her jump."Change and go to sleep, Khushi. I've had a long day, I don't want to make it longer if I can help it."
"Hume bhi zaroorat nahin hai aapke har sawal ka jawab dene ki," she said, "ab to Jiji ki shaadi ho gayi hai. Aapki sari sharton pe hamne dastkhat kiye hai, aur hum apke jaise nahin ki badal jayen." So she would not speak of her relation with Shyam. How old was she? Nineteen? Where did she learn this much deception?
Her eyes looked clear now, even challenging. In all this time through the evening, he had looked at her, but not really seen her. How that maang-tika covered the sindoor he had filled in and glowed, as if with pride. Her bindi, darker than the ones she usually wore, beckoned his eyes to her skin. Her skin--how did she manage to keep it so pristine? Did she have a portrait tucked away somewhere, her alter ego, that got marked by her sins while she remained untouched, inviolate? So hard to imagine this face with that beast. How old was he, thirty-five? Double her age, the pedophile! What did she see in that creep? He was not handsomer than Arnav Singh Raizada, did not have the Raizada millions. Why did she prefer Shyam to him? He felt rage rise in him again, and felt her gasp in pain.
He looked down to her face..his lips now hovered over hers, and his fingers, that had been stroking her jaw had suddenly gripped her hard, hurting her. How did he get so close to her? He heard a knock on the door, and removed his hand, which he realized was trembling now. Shoving the errant hand into the pocket of his trouser, he walked to the door and opened it. Hari Prakash stood outside, a packet in one hand, a small covered plate in the other. "Anjaliji said you must be hungry", he said, as he handed over the plate, "and this is for Khushiji."
After he had placed the plate on the table and closed the door, he turned to find her gone. He checked the bathroom, then walked out to the poolside. She stood outlined against the fairy lights, her shoulders heaving.
"Khushi. Di sent this for you," he said, handing her the packet.
When she made no move to take it, he held her forearm and turned her around. She wiped her face with her other hand, causing her bangles to rush together and make their music. The bangles he had given her, his first gift to her, the ones she had shaken in front of him during the photo-shoot, jangling them together. Was she the same Khushi, who had been hugging that two-faced bas***d on the terrace, those bangles still on her arm as she embraced another man?
He dragged her in, then slammed the glass doors shut, making her jump."Change and go to sleep, Khushi. I've had a long day, I don't want to make it longer if I can help it."
Udne Ki Aasha
Kumkum Bhagya
Arjun
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