Part 39
Vimala Maasi swept out of the room, a struggling Antara in her arms, leaving behind a pregnant silence. Arnav looked intently at Khushi who stood staring at him with her mouth open. He walked to her, covering the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps, enjoying her disconcerted look. He stopped close to her, and shut her tempting mouth with a finger beneath her chin.
"Is she right?", he asked, as innocent as a baby.
"Kya, Kaun...?", she asked, all flustered.
"Vimala Maasi."
Khushi blushed. "How do I know?", she asked, and tried to run away.
He caught her arm, practice having made him perfect. He inspected her cheek for any stray teeth marks, and found it smooth and creamy as usual, just pink in colour. He ran his fingers down the cheek to her chin.
She broke free of him and ran down the steps to the courtyard.
The guests finally left, and the family gathered in the courtyard. The cooks were gathering their utensils and stoves to leave. Munna and Krishna had gone to bed. The ladies and gents lolled in chairs and cots, pleasantly tired.
Arnav said, "Nani, Babuji, Buaji, Mamaji..., many of the guests were sorry that they had to miss Payal's and Akash's wedding."
"Haan, Bitwaa. But what can we do, Nandkisore? It was in Delhi."
"Their wedding...", he cleared his throat. "...Their wedding was spoilt by me. They couldn't even enjoy the games after the wedding. And I am sure Payal missed having her friends there."
The family remained silent, uncomfortable.
Khushi alone smiled at Arnav, guessing what was coming.
"Maybe we can have both weddings together. Payal and Akash can marry once more. With us."
There was perfect silence for a moment.
Then Khushi said, "Please, Naniji, Babuji, Amma, Buaji, Mamaji, Mamiji..., please..."
The courtyard exploded with sound, loud laughter and conversation filling it. It was decided that Payal & Akash would have their Lucknow wedding along with Arnav & Khushi. Mami couldn't believe her ears.
"I can inbite my brothers, sisters, nephews, their wives, my chachas, chachis, mamas, maamis, even my uncle's cousin's wife's sister and family. Happy Beddings! Two for the praij of one!"
Arnav changed into his casual clothes, and got ready for bed. The whole house was silent. There was a knock on the door. He opened it to find Amma and Buaji outside.
"What happened? Is everything alright?", he asked, concerned.
"Haan, Bitwaa. There is nothing to worry about.", Amma set his heart at ease.
"We just wanted to talk to you about something, Nandkisore! Oo kaa he, Babua, we were thinking...", she looked at Garima. "...We were thinking that after the wedding, when all the others go back to Delhi,... if you don't mind, only if you don't mind,... you can leave Anjali Bitiyaa with us..."
Arnav looked at them, pale, uncertain.
Garima rushed to explain. "Oo kaa he, Bitwaa, she seems much happier here. No one knows of her pain, and she can start a new life. The people who meet her don't know of her past. And she loves going to the temple, helping in the kitchen, spending time with the neighbours..." She took hold of his hand.
"Babua, she is young. She has a long life ahead of her. We can't let her waste it just because one rascal cheated her. She deserves to be happy. There should be more to her life than staying at home and praying while you and Akash have families and a life. It is a sin, a shame.", said Buaji.
"Haan, Bitwaa. Jiji is perfectly right."
"Babua..", Buaji placed her hand on his shoulder. "We had an aunt who was widowed at the age of 18, thirteen months after her wedding. She had no children. She died at the age of seventy. She spent everyday between the ages of 70 and 18 looking after her brothers' children and slogging in the kitchen. Her life was limited to the kitchen and the pooja room. What a waste of life, Nandkisore! It shouldn't happen to our Anjali Bitiyaa." Her eyes filled with tears.
"Bitwaa, please leave her here. Khushi's father has a cousin who runs a school and orphanage nearby. If we ask him, he will definitely involve Bitiyaa in the work. She will get to spend some time with the children. It will lighten her mind and give her a purpose in life. He will be coming tomorrow to meet all of you as he couldn't come today for the sagai. He is a widower, and is helped by his son, Anand. Both of them will be here tomorrow."
"Haan, Babua. Talk to them. See if you like them. If you like them, we can send Bitiyaa there to work with the children. If you don't, we will find another place for her. It doesn't matter. But leave her here, Bitwaa. Don't take her back to Delhi."
"Damadji, for us, Anjali Bitiyaa is just like our Payaliyaa or Khushi. We will take good care of her. And at least because she is here, you will all come regularly to see us...", Garima added. Buaji nodded her head.
Arnav lowered his eyes to hide the moisture filling them. He threw his arms around the two ladies, and hugged them close. He had often told Khushi that she didn't have to do everything by herself. He hadn't known that this was applicable to him too.
"You meet them tomorrow, and then talk it over with Anjali Bitiyaa & Nani...", suggested the ladies.
He nodded.
Arnav drifted off to sleep after a long time. His mind had lingered on the terrible events of the past few months, not letting him rest. Finally, towards dawn, he closed his eyes.
Dreams came to him like thieves in the night, unlocking the doors to his memories. He saw himself and Khushi in the hut, on the run from the kidnappers.
It was raining heavily. He sat on the hay, scantily clad in a white vest and ragged trousers, stealing glances at her shadow on the wall as she dressed behind the cloth screen that he had made for her. She tied the dori of her blouse, and adjusted the pallu of her saree. He swallowed. There was just a piece of cloth between him and her. He stood up, summoning the remnants of his overused stores of restraint and self-control. She would be out of there any moment, and would catch him savouring her shadow. He hastened to lower the flame of the lantern.
He saw her slide the screen along the rope through the corner of his eyes. He looked up, and stood fascinated by the picture she made. The white sari, her red, almost-not-there blouse, her unbound hair fluttering in the breeze, the sari revealing the tempting curve of her waist, her fingers trying to tame the fringe of hair that was falling in to her eyes, the knowledge in her eyes that he found her beautiful, captivatingly, astoundingly beautiful, the realisation in her eyes that he wanted her more than he wanted his next breath...
Her eyes slid away from him, to look at the hay on the floor. Her fingers clutched the pallu at her shoulder nervously, trying to make it cover more of her body from his laser-sharp eyes. He took one step after the other towards her, ducking under the clothesline to get to her. With each step that he took towards her, she took one away from him. She hit the wall, and stood, looking flustered and shy. Her chest rose and fell irregularly, her breath came in spurts, her eyes seemed to search for a way out, and her fingers clutched at the folds of her sari at her sides. She tried to duck to her right, but he placed his hand on the wall by her and blocked her move. Her eyes darted towards his, and she tried to turn to her left to make her escape. His hand slammed against the wall to her left, again blocking her.
She looked at him, helpless, nervous, the pulse in her throat fluttering like a bird caught in a net, curiosity warring with fear of the unknown in her eyes...
He raised his fingers to her face, and caressed the strands of hair touching her face. The storm raged without and within him. Months of sleeping with her in the same room without laying a finger on her... Months of having the person he most desired in front of his eyes, but not being able to have her... His self control was shot.
He lowered his face to capture her parted, moist lips with his. She darted away. His arm caught hers, and he pulled her in to his hold. She panted, weak with desire, her limbs trembling with the effort to keep standing. She looked at him, begging for immediate support.
He lifted her into his arms, and carried her to their bed of hay. He lay her down carefully, leaning over her. He lowered his face to hers, determined to taste the lips that had been killing him for the past 1 year and more, fuelling his torrid dreams, making him weak in the knees...
(Illyria, thanx!)
She turned away in the hay, revealing the bounty of her more-than-half-naked back to him. The dori tempted him beyond resistance. His fingers, clutching her shoulder, moved lazily down her back, making their way slowly but surely to the dori. She trembled like a blade of grass in strong wind, her choppy breath moving the muscles of her back, her tender skin trembling at his slow but sure touch. He kissed her nape, and every inch of her back, holding her down on the hay with his hand. She shook, she moaned her pleasure, her fingers grasped the hay like a lifeline...
His fingers played with the knot of the dori, and slowly pulled it free. The two edges fell apart. Arnav held her by her shoulder, and turned her to face him. Her hands clutched the pallu and the poor remains of her blouse to her chest. He focused on her lips. They looked redder than usual, as though she had bit them in an agony of pleasure. He lowered his lips to hers, gently touching their fullness. She gasped and parted her lips. He dived in, tasting her with his tongue. His fingers slid the pallu from her shoulder.
"Arnavji! Arnavji!"
Rudely awakened from his dream, Arnav sat up in his bed, staring at a thrilled Khushi standing near his bed, the phone in her hand.
She was talking nineteen to a dozen. But he couldn't hear her. He was still in the most cosy shack on earth, kissing the most beautiful girl on earth, the rain pounding at the windows...
"Arnavji! Get up! Get up, please! Guess what happened. Nanheji phuned just now. He is coming here on the 9th for our Sangeet. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Err...Y..yes..."
He pulled the covers closer to his chest.
Part 40:
https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/3001953/living-without-you-3-link-to-thread-4-part-41
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