New IPKKND FF: Across The Universe Part 3 Page 24 - Page 13

"Namaste Dadi ji," Aanchal said bending to touch the old matriarch's feet, who placed a genial hand on the young girls head, trying hard to catch her bearings. Anjali understood how Divyani must be feeling, because when Payal had walked in with Aanchal her heart had leapt in her throat because for a minute there she felt that Khushi had come back, bouncing on her toes, her infectious smile warming up the cold confines of Shantivan, just like she had that day when she was carrying a big bundle of chicken kari saree.

"Thank you so much for having me," the girl said beaming at them as she took a seat by Payal's side, stooping low again to snatch up one year old Prem and placing him firmly on her lap, "You must be Prem, I'm Aanchal Masi," she said extending a finger which Prem grabbed in a firm grip, giving Anjali and Divyani the opportunity to observe the ghost girl.

She had the same hazel eyes, the delicate face structure, but her chin was a little more pointed than Khushi's, her lips fuller, her nose slightly upturned, her hair more brown than black; if you looked closely she looked nothing like Khushi, just that her slight figure, her fair complexion and the hazel eyes were similar. But when she talked, her voice, her mannerisms resembled those of Khushi, but only slightly.

And why wouldn't they, Anjali thought looking at the young girl with a special smile, they were first cousins.

"Is your daughter asleep?" Aanchal asked Anjali and she nodded.

"She's a heavy sleeper," Anjali said with a fond smile, "and I like her to be well rested before Chhotay gets home so she isn't cranky when they have their play time together."

"Chhotay?" Aanchal asked quizzically then looked pointedly at Prem.

"No, bitya," Divyani said laughing. "We call Arnav Chhotay, you met him at the door," Divyani said helpfully when Aanchal looked flabbergasted. Aanchal tried her best to hide her smirk but failed. Divyani felt her heart melt. So like Khushi yet not, she thought with a heavy sense of doom resting at the pit of her stomach, what have we brought upon ourselves; protect Chhotay Devi Maya, protect him from himself.

*

I have always loved you, Arnav ji, never Shyam ji, always you.

Arnav fingered the pearls in his palm, their smooth surface cool against his heated palm, the cheap lacquer shining in the overhead lights. It would be two years this Friday since she had bled in his arms, her usually pale face becoming as white as the sheet they wrapped her in at the hospital, saying she had died long before he had rushed her in.

His fingers curled around the pearls till they dug in to his palm, the small pain a relief from the all-consuming emptiness that had been his fare since his mother had died, a tragic, brutal death, somehow the women he loved always met a tragic demise leaving him in shattered traumatic pieces.

The bedroom door creaked open and he looked up sharply at who had dared intrude upon his private time, but his eyes softened as they took in the tumbling curls on his niece's tiny head, as she rubbed her sleep riddled eyes, her baby pink blanket clutched in one hand.

"Hey, Rakhi," Arnav said sitting down on his knees on the floor, holding his arms out for the only reason he was still sane. Rakhi walked forward till she was in her uncles arms, resting her head on his shoulders she promptly went to sleep again. "Lazy bones," Arnav chuckled but patted her in to a deeper slumber, laying down next to her for a small nap.

He had just about drifted off when the colorful dupatta from a half an hour ago intruded in to his sleep filled head and he sat up straight, shaking his head, not wanting to think about the girl who had just entered his life, much like Khushi had, and how she reminded him of her.

"I should kick her out," he mumbled picking up his watering can. "No," he shook his head as soon as the thought had entered his head and began to water the plants to gain some peace. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he picked it up. "Yes," he said curtly.

"What do you mean he filed for appeal?!" Arnav roared sending the half full watering can crashing in to the French windows. Rakhi's terrified screams added to the chaos in Arnav's head. He threw the cell phone in his hand at the ground so it broke in to neat pieces and began to head in to calm Rakhi down, to calm himself down and think when a blur of yellow with a banner of the rainbow rushed in to the room and scooped Rakhi up in to a tight embrace.

"Hush," she soothed, the girl who was Khushi, but wasn't. Rakhi's sobs began to peter out as the girl sang and jumped on the balls of her feet, shooting accusing glares at Arnav who shot them right back. Once Rakhi was calm the girl started to walk out, her feet leaving a wide berth between herself and Arnav, her mouth closed in a thin line of disapproval but Arnav could care less.

He had bigger things to think about, this Aanchal was just an irritating fly, annoying, unwanted but harmless.

*

"She's tall for her age," Aanchal said sitting on Anjali's bed sipping at her cup of tea.

"Yes," Anjali said, "She gets that from her mama ji," Anjali said pinching her daughter's cheeks. Anjali then set Rakhi down amongst the mess of wooden blocks and toys where Prem was busy bashing a toy car in to a dolls head.

"No, Chhotay!" Rakhi said sternly to Prem, her index finger pointing threateningly while Prem ignored her. Aanchal burst in to peals of laughter at the cute sight. "You guys are so lucky to have kids in the house, I bet there is never a dull moment," Aanchal beamed.

"There is never a sane moment," Anjali said and Aanchal laughed harder. "So what are you studying at Delhi University?" Anjali asked settling back in to the pillows, putting her feet up and stretching.

"Art," the vivacious girl said settling in as well. "I always liked to sketch and draw but then a few years ago my brother took me to a gallery and I fell in love with oil!" Aanchal clasped her hands in front of her dramatically her eyes big shining saucers.

"Oil?" Anjali said.

"Yes," Aanchal said sitting back down. "Oil paints! The smell, the feel, the texture and the way the brush slides on the canvas," Aanchal made such a wistful face that Anjali wished she could see firsthand what she was talking about. "So the day Babu ji asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I told him 'Babu ji I want to be a painter,' and he made sure I became one," she said.

"And what does your Babu ji do?" Anjali asked.

"He has a growing chicken kari business back in Lucknow," Aanchal said. "Bhai joined the family business around two years ago and now they had enough money to afford my masters in Delhi."

"Aren't you too young for a masters degree, I mean, how old are you?" Anjali asked taking a closer look at the girl who didn't look more than eighteen.

"Oh I was very young when I started school and then I was promoted twice," Aanchal said with a hint of pride. "I'm twenty one, just as old as Khushi Di would have been if she were alive."

"You remind me so much of her," Anjali said with a pained smile and Aanchal squeezed her hand.

"Well of course I do," she said sitting up on her knees as she began to narrate her family history. "Our fathers were twins you know," she said as if it was a widely known fact. "And Khushi Di and I were born just a couple of months apart but she still insisted I call her Di," Aanchal smiled fondly at the memory. "But you see, Khushi Di took after Baray Babuji, and she looked nothing like Bari Ma, which is why she doesn't resemble Jiji, and resembles me instead."

"I see," Anjali said fascinated.

"And then when Barray Babuji and Ma ji died, Babuji wanted to adopt Khushi Di," Aanchal said coloring up a little, "but Ma didn't want her around, and well Babuji chose domestic harmony, only because he knew Khushi Di was going to a good home," Aanchal added hastily, making excuses for her father as well as showing in her tone that she held a grudge against him.

"I can understand," Anjali said laying a hand on Aanchal's thigh just as Payal walked in.

"Your room is all set Aanchal," Payal said, picking up Prem who was about to snatch at Rakhi's curls in frustration because she kept taking his toys away. "I even unpacked for you."

"Thank you Jiji," Aanchal said hopping off the bed, and giving Payal a hug.

"Go freshen up," Payal said and Aanchal ambled out the room. She was about to go down the stairs when a set of framed miniature paintings along the landing caught her eye. She stood frozen before them, inspecting the careful, delicate lines, admiring the time and effort that must have gone in to each stroke. She was so consumed with the study of the works of art before her that she didn't hear the heavy footfalls, only turning around when the tall figure was upon her, his solid form colliding with hers sending her toppling. Luckily she hit the wall a few steps down, instead of falling down the stairs, slightly rattled but physically fine.

"Watch it!" he roared down at her, glaring at her as if it was her fault when she had been stationary.

"You watch it," she roared back getting up on her two feet. The man was an ogre, far more than a rakshas, he was Ravan incarnated! "I was standing perfectly still when you came like a typhoon and bumped in to me! You should apologize rather than scream at me," she said pointing her finger at him, her eyes blazing, like eyes that had blazed at him all those years ago, saying the same words, the same hand movements, it left him deeply rattled.

"Stay away from me," he threatened, his jaw tight and his forbidding, a spark of fear lurking deep within, and then he was gone just as fast as he had come.

"Off to eat some hapless innocent no doubt," Aanchal mumbled as she made her own way to her room.