Burning in your Love (Part 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, & 13) - Page 7

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She froze at the image in the mirror.

Arnav was standing by the window, looking in, his naughty eyes fixed on her. She grew flustered. His eyes moved from her dori to her lips, and she blushed, turning her face away from him.

She could see him in the mirror, walking towards her, slowly but surely.

"I heard that you missed me...that you were asking for me?"

"Me? Asking for you? No. Why should I ask for you?"

"To tie the dori?"

"Dori? What dori?"

He stood close, his chest a few inches awaay from her back, his hands cupping her shoulders. Khushi shivered.

He looked at their image in the mirror.

"This dori..."

He brushed her hair over her right shoulder, and took the two strings in his hands. As he tied them, he remembered how he had torn the pearl dori from her dress on their first meeting. How he must have scared her! No wonder she called him a rakshas. He must have seemed like the very devil to her on that night. He looked into her eyes through the mirror. His hands faltered. She said, "It doesn't matter. You didn't know me then."

He closed his eyes in relief.

He took her necklace from its case, and was about to clasp it around her neck when Payal knocked on the door.

"Khushi? Are you ready? Open the door. It is time to go down."

Arnav sighed. He whispered in her ear, "Meet me after the sagai by the pool."

He turned to leave. And paused. "Leave your hair unbound", he whispered.

RM looked like a palace, decorated with thousands of lights and flower garlands. But brighter than the lights were the smiles on the faces of all the family members. Khushi came down the stairs, led by Payal on her right and Anjali on her left. Both families drew a breath of mingled relief, pride, and amazement. How had such a beautiful and young girl found the courage to take on the angry lion? How had the khadoos ASR let Sanka Devi into his heart?

Akaash finished arranging the materials for the havan, and with NK on his self-imposed duty of shooting every second of the function, went to help Arnav get ready for his sagai. In NK's room, Arnav took out the sherwani from its elaborate packaging, and wore it with Akaash's help. He looked at himself in the mirror. Rajkumar and shaitan, both rolled into one. He smiled slightly, and Akaash and NK smiled seeing his rare smile.

The three handsome men ambling down the stairs was a sight enough to give the fainthearted a heart attack. Arnav in the cream sherwani in the centre, Akash in green on his right, and NK in red on his left.

Arnav in a sherwani! That too one that was not black, blue, or brown! Mami let out a bleat of surprise. Anjali's eyes were as round as saucers. Nani couldn't believe her eyes. Buaji exclaimed, "Hai Re Nandkisore!" Garima said, "Khussi is a very lucky girl, Jiji."

Arnav halted in front of Nani and touched her feet. She hugged him and kissed his forehead. Her relief knew no bounds. For years, she had worried about him, about what would happen to him if she died, about who would look after him, if he would be alone... Gauri had entrusted her children in to her care. She had tried to look after them to the best of her ability, but Chotey's temper...his anger...his rudeness had made it very difficult for her to find him a bride. She had feared that he would spend his entire life alone. But he had found khushi. Or rather, Khushi had found him. She caressed his cheek, and then led him to Anjali who hugged and kissed him, tears of joy filling her eyes. Finally Chotey had found his match. He would be alone no longer.

"Shall we have the marriage today itself? You look like a bridegroom in the sherwani!", she teased softly in his ear.

"Not like a rajkumar?", he asked, with a definite twinkle in his eyes.

"So Khushiji selected the sherwani for her rajkumar!", Anjali caught on. She hugged him again.

The whole family sat down for the havan. Khushi sat with Arnav in the front, praying for the peace and prosperity of both families, the health of Arnavji, and for a long and happy married life. She looked at him. He sat patiently by her side, his stern lips uncharacteristically relaxed. He looked happy. She hoped he was happy. He turned his head and looked at her. His eyes went soft and tender, and a small smile crept on to his lips. She smiled, and looked at the fire.

Theirs was an unequal marriage. There was no one more conscious about it than herself. In the past 13-14 months, he had often made derogatory remarks about her aukat, her third class mentality, her poverty, all of which were true. She was not often riddled by self-doubt, but the events over the past 6 months had disturbed her a great deal. Arnavji had suspected her of immorality. Of trying to steal his sister's husband. He had failed to understand her, and maybe even now did not know her well. They were like the sky and the ocean, worlds apart.

She was too young for him. Or maybe he was too old for her. Not just in years, but in his experience of the world, of pain, of disillusionment. He tried to live according to the dictates of his dimag, while she followed her dil.

Why had he fallen in love with her? She knew why she had fallen in love with him alright. Because she was foolish. Because her dil was more foolish still. It had to find the most difficult, most impossible man on earth to fall in love with. A man who ran away from his feelings, and considered love as a weakness.

Would he regret falling in love with her? Would the dimag that was now under the sway of his dil make a comeback one day? Would he feel that he had made a mistake? And more importantly, if he ever regretted their marriage, would he ever let her know?

Arnav looked at her pensive face, and wondered what had upset her.

The havan was over, and the prasad distributed. Khushi had made special sugarfree ladoos for Arnav. In the midst of a lot of laughter and gaiety, Khushi's Amma applied a tilak on Arnav's forehead, welcoming him in to the Gupta family. Arnav whispered, "Amma, I promise I will always look after her."

Garima's eyes filled with tears of joy. She touched his cheek in affection and gratitude.

Nani and Anjali showered Khushi with clothes, make-up kits, and jewellery, and both families looked on delighted.

Then it was time to exchange rings. Arnav put his hand into his pocket and drew out the case with the two rings. As he opened it, gasps of appreciation filled the air. Arnav took Khushi's left hand in his, and slowly slid the beautiful, flower-like ring on to her fourth finger with the nas to her heart, the finger on which he had tied the bandage in the temple.

He looked into Khushi's eyes, and both remembered the moments in their room when they had selected the rings, how he had forcefully stopped her at the mandir, cleaned the wound on her finger, and bandaged it in front of Devi Maiyya. They had planned to get out of each other's life that evening, but had ended up in each other's arms the very next day. He smiled. They belonged to each other. He gave his ring to her, and extended his hand. She placed it on his finger. The whole family cheered, and hugged them and each other.

The party was in full swing. RM was overflowing with guests, but as usual, Arnav had instructed that his room and the poolside be left undisturbed. Arnav and Khushi stood together in the centre of the hall, receiving congratulations from the invitees. After the frenzy had died down a little and guests began making a beeline for the food, Arnav bent his head towards her and whispered in her ear, "The poolside, now."

Khushi nodded.

Part 10:

Section 1: A Tryst by the Pool

Section 2: The More the Merrier

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