Khushi looked around her. Everything was familiar yet strangely unfamiliar. Mumbai the city of dreams. When she had come to Mumbai clutching the hands of her father she had never imagined that she would return there when all her dreams had been shattered.
"I wish I had never met you"
Why couldn't she find herself wishing the same thing? She had always been called selfless. If his life would have been better, if he would have been happier then would she mind not meeting him?
No. Khushi kumari gupta was selfish that way.
Rain is the happiness of the departed.
Arnav looked down at the sorry sight before him. The fairy lights lay at his feet, soggy and crumbled up. Almost damaged beyond repair. It reminded him of her. She had gotten herself trapped. The lights were one thing, the monster was another.
She had wanted to leave. He hadn't begged, he hadn't pleaded. He had stood still as a stone and watched her pack her belongings, getting ready to leave. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind regarding her departure. She would leave him. But he was also well aware that his heart would never leave her.
He didn't to need the sight of souvenirs of their past to remember her. Her face flashed in his mind with every breath. Whether it was silence, despair, failure or the rare upward curving of his lips she was always the reason.
No one could be happy on seeing a sight like this. The sight of a man who had lost his love just when he thought he had her.
Rain is not the happiness of the departed. It is merely the lament of broken hearts.
XX
"Khushi!"
"Coming!" she shouted , trying to make herself heard over the loud noise. She tried to balance the various trays and plates on her hand and made her way to the shop.
"Devi maiyya sweets"
She proudly looked up at the huge signboard that they had managed to put up the previous day. It was her shop's inauguration day. It had been her dream. Now it was a reality. She smiled, feeling as if her face was cracking due to the extra workload that she had given it. She had never thought that this day would come.
Suddenly the weight of the various utensils became lighter and she looked down to see what had happened. Rama Mausi smiled at her. Together they managed to carry the heavy stuff into the shop.
Her mausi was her sole support now. The main thing she had remembered with fondness was not the movies or the actors but the warm jalebis that her Mausi had made for her. Her love for the sweet had begun right then. With the first bite of her Rama Mausi's jalebis. And now she was the one who was going to make the jalebis.
Life was most definitely a full cirlce.
XX
Time was a funny thing, she decided as she locked up her shop. She had always thought that time went quicker when she was busy and that it was idleness that caused the days to seem longer. But somehow the even with an entire shop to manage the last two years had been excruciatingly painful.
She had heard that time heals all. She had believed it too. But now she didn't. How could she believe when she knew that until her last breath she would feel as if someone was strangling her? When she knew that the pain wouldn't go until she finally saw him?
She sighed and dropped the keys into her bag. She walked hurriedly down the street noticing only then how dark that it had become. She was turning into a workaholic. A trait she seemed to have inherited from her husband. The dogs howled but they were not loud enough to block out the yells and jeers of a group of boys involved in a scuffle. She watched, frozen, at the sight of a gang of boys beating a single boy of around sixteen or seventeen who seemed to be trying to defend himself. They pushed the boy down and she heard his head hit the ground with a sickening crunch. She half walked half ran towards the group planning to give them a piece of her mind.
But the boy got to it before her. He staggered up and before their drunken brains could react, kicked one of them. Then he bent down to pick up a beer bottle from the ground and smashed it in order to reveal the sharp edge. He shouted, daring the others to touch him.
They scampered away and as soon as they left his sight he kneeled down.
Khushi heard the clink of the already smashed bottle touching the ground. The boy buried his head in his knees covering his face. Khushi didn't need daylight to tell that he was crying. She could feel her own eyes tearing up, an impact of the events that she had just witnessed. She leaned down to touch his shoulder. He immediately snapped his head up to look up at her. She tried to stifle a gasp at the sight of his burning eyes. After two years she was seeing the same determination. The same hate. And that too in the eyes of a sixteen year old.
Blood trickled down his tan forehead. Carefully she raised her hand from his shoulder to touch his unkempt, wild hair
Khushi saw his hand searching for his weapon. This one was most definitely a fighter.
"Shh..its ok im your friend"
XX
Khushi watched Rohith sitting in the cash counter and dealing with the customers. His behavior was different from others of his age. There was no doubt about that. He was silent and when he did talk he adopted a businesslike tone. He would get angry fast but never towards her. His dedication to khushi was amazing. She was the only receiver of his rare smiles.
And she was glad about that. No matter how much he resembled a part of her life that she was desperately trying not to remember it was hard not to adore Rohith. He was like the brother she never had. Not many could see the heart beneath his tough exterior. He was just another young boy whose life had mistreated him.
After his parents death in a car accident he had been enrolled in a orphanage. Ill treatment there had forced him to escape only to be caught up in the dark side of the city. If she hadn't rescued him he wouldn't have been alive by now. And both of them knew it.
At that moment he looked up to catch her eyes and smiled. She smiled back at him and walked towards him ready to shower him with compliments on how well he had managed the shop.
"D..Khushi" he quickly corrected himself. She flinched but quickly composed herself.
She couldn't do anything about the similarities between the two. But the thing that she remembered the most about her last few moments with him was his devotion to his Di. She didn't want to create a replica of Arnav Singh Raizada. She would teach Rohith to live.
Keeping that in mind she had told him to call her Khushi. It was hard for him to call an elder by name but he somehow managed realizing that she was hurt by hearing the word Di.
******
Arnav looked around the busy shop trying to get a glimpse of her. He had waited for two years, but right now he couldn't wait a second more to see her. Right now he was seated on a table of devi maiyya sweets, trying desperately to see the owner of the shop who seemed to be very very busy in the kitchen. His hand rested on a newspaper containing the advertisement of a sweet shop in mumbai owned by a certain Khushi kumari gupta.
He tapped his fingers impatiently on the table and saw the boy at the cash counter look up at him. Apparently he was khushi 's staff. He walked over to the boy leaning to place his hands on the counter.
"Umm..can you tell me where your Di is?"
"Its not Di..its khushi."
Arnav stared at the boy, the double meaning of his word's hitting him like a storm.
Everything in his life should not have been centered around his Di. Khushi was just as or maybe more important.
He searched the boy's face. Did he know? Did she tell him? The boy's expression was unreadable but something made him feel as if he didn't have a clue.
"Rohith?"
He heard her honey sweet voice and turned around to meet her eyes. She halted and her face momentarily showed shock. But then she resumed her steps, her face turning hard with indifference. She ignored him and walked behind to the counter and took a book in her hands.
"Khushi..I"
"Yes sir may I take your order?"
Arnav had anticipated this. Well, two can play the game.
"I would like some jalebis" he answered, trying to gauge her reaction.
"Il pack them for you" she replied swiftly, not looking up from her book.
"Who said packed? I want them for myself"
Finally she looked up at him from the book and raised an eyebrow wanting him to continue and justify his sudden carving for the forbidden.
"Make it fast. I have a meeting in half an hour" he said, the words coming out sharper than he had expected.
He saw something change in her eyes but she lowered them before he could figure it out.
"Yes sir"
She walked towards the kitchen, not turning around to take a second look at him
*****
He opened the kitchen door to find her making the jalebis, beads of perspiration on her forehead and her lips puckered in obvious anger. He scanned the kitchen to make sure she was alone. Luck was with him. He moved closer to hear her mutter words like laad governor and diabetes. He smirked.
He crept up behind her and extended his hand to the bowl of batter. She tried to stop him but before she could react he had already tasted it.
"Sugar free" he muttered not even trying to keep the small smile of victory away from his face"
She paled seeing that this was going to be a tough spot to get out from.
"I didn't say I wanted them to be sugar free Mrs Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizaada"
Bindi
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