ArHi SS: Bucket List (NOTE PG 94) 12.08.15

"Khushi, you need to go up and drop the note," Anagha said, even as Khushi tried to negotiate the best spot to park the car.

"Did you hear what I said, you need to go and deliver the note," Anagha repeated, this time in a more agitated tone.

"What? No way. Why should I do that? Bad enough that I am doing all the dirty work for you, now this too? I was a friend and drove you to this place, the rest you manage," Khushi said, a satisfied smile on her face as she found the perfect parking slot.

Now that the car was parked, Khushi turned towards Anagha sitting on the passenger seat. Anagha's eyes had filled up, her lips quivering and she was playing with her hands nervously. Khushi let out an audible sigh.

"Fine, I will do it for you. But you owe me big time for this," she said as she took off the seatbelt and grabbed the note from Anagha getting out of the car. Anagha just nodded, tears now rolling down her eyes.

Khushi checked her palm, C-710, Horizon View, Juhu.

"Bhai saheb, yeh C-710 kidhar padega," Khushi asked a watchman who was almost dozing off.

"Aakash Sir ka ghar jaana hain?" he asked and without waiting for a response picked up the intercom, "Woh penthouse mein rehte hain. Kaun aaya hain boloon?"

Khushi looked around nervously and knew that she needed to do something quick.

"Bhai Saheb, ek gaadi wahan par galat park huyi hain," she told the watchman and as he stepped out to check, she made a dash for the apartment not turning behind. She quickly got into the elevator and pressed 37, the top most floor of the apartment. Once she got out, she saw these wires that she presumed were the ones for the intercom. She took out her pocket knife and snapped it off.

So this was the penthouse, she thought to herself. Fancypants Aakash Raizada, she said aloud and creepily enough, her voice echoed. She would have considered getting married to this loaded dude, she thought as she rang the doorbell. After what seemed like ages, a man came and opened the door. Oh wow! This guy I would totally marry, the voice in Khushi's head was so alarmingly loud that she was unsure if she had said that aloud.

The man had a scowl on his face and a faint pout, which kind of made him hotter.

"What is it? Who are you?" he snapped.

"You must be Aakash, right?" she began, in what she thought was conversational.

"Wrong," he said.

"Oh! Who are you then?" she said and then wanted to kick herself when she saw his raised eyebrow. "I mean, where is Aakash? There is something very important that I need to give him."

"Well he isn't around. You may come back later," the man said as he shut the door to her face.

Khushi was fuming now. The gall of the man. How dare he? Hmph!

She placed her finger on the doorbell and didn't stop ringing it until the very handsome and now very, very angry dude opened the door.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I am calling security," he said and reached for the intercom.

Dammit, he mumbled as the intercom was off. Khushi giggled and the man now looked even more pissed.

Khushi, focus on what you came to do here and leave the place, a voice within Khushi's head strongly admonished her.

"Listen, I know this might seem strange, but I am Anagha's fr.." Khushi began.

"Anagha. You know Anagha," the man said, sounding just a little friendlier now.

"Yes, I do," Khushi said, "Anagha and I are best friends forever. We first met when I was in LKG and there was this guy in our class..."

"Charming. But what is your point?" the man asked cutting off Khushi's How I met my BFF story midway.

"So anyway.. well... actually.. the thing is.. I mean.." Khushi stammered. Which for Khushi was a strange situation to be in, because she was never the kind of person who was lost for words. Like ever. But this man's brown eyes and the way he intently stared at her had turned her into a prized idiot.

"So Anagha's friend, it has been nice meeting you. But I have a truckload of work, so come back later, okay?" the man said, taking on that long suffering tone which some adults reserved for precocious 5-year-olds.

"No, no. I can't come back. Please give this note to Aakash," she said and gave him Anagha's note, turning her back and heading for the elevator.

"Wait a second, what is this note about?" the man asked, "Why can't Anagha just call up Aakash? Something is not adding up."

Khushi walked back towards the man and wondered how much of the truth she could tell this man whom she did not know from Adam. Was he Aakash's friend? A relative? Random houseguest? She had no idea. But she felt so burdened by the weight of this secret that she needed to tell someone. She was the world's worst keeper of secrets anyway.

"Anagha cannot marry Aakash," Khushi said, speaking each word slowly and carefully, "so she left him a note."

"What the F*ck," the man swore.

"I know," she said, "but she loves someone else and can't marry Aakash."

"And so naturally she sends her flakey friend with a note and hope it will fix everything. Wow!Real mature," the man said sarcastically.

"See i know it seems that way, but you need to look at things from her point of view too. Her family won't listen to her and if there was a better way, she would have broken this off sooner. But there wasn't and this is the best now," Khushi said, even as she avoided eye contact wit the man she could sense his derision. And somehow that bothered her.

"Poor Anagha," the man said mockingly, "Anyway it is a good thing that my brother had a lucky escape before marrying some spineless chick. Thanks. You may leave now."

Brother. Jeez. Khushi felt indignant on behalf of her friend. That this man was judging Anagha inspite of not knowing her side of the story. She also felt bothered that this man was judging her. For some odd reason she wanted him to have a good opinion of her. But there was nothing to be done now. Just as she was about to walk towards the elevator, the watchman came along with two others, all of them bulky men who seemed to be armed with sticks.

"Sir yeh ladki bhaag kar..." the watchman she had hoodwinked began.

Khushi turned towards Aakash's brother, grabbed him by his shoulders and before he could utter a word, kissed him firmly on his mouth. She was aware of the embarrassed cough of the watchmen as they murmured some kind of an apology and got into the elevator and went away.

When the course seemed clear, Khushi let go off the man and stared at him wide-eyed, suddenly realizing hat she had done. The man too, who had seemed completely cool until now was a little thrown. They stared at each other for a minute before the man finally said, "What the hell was that?"

"I am so sorry. But I am leaving the country day after, going to USA. You know how that country is looking for an excuse to not issue visas to people or cancel existing ones. I didn't want a criminal record against me now," she said, her voice breathless now.

"That did not make any sense," the man said.

"I know. I am so sorry about everything," Khushi said as she walked a little unsteadily towards the elevator.

"Anagha's friend," the man called, now an amused tone, "what is your name?"

"Sorry," she said looking at him.

"Well considering that you kissed me, I would like to know your name," he said.

"Was I that good?" Khushi asked him.

The man did not answer and offered a lopsided grin instead.

Khushi was thrown off by this and extended her hand and said, "I am Khushi."

He took her hand in his, in a warm and nice grip sand said, "I am Arnav."

"Oh my God! You are Arnav Raizada, the writer dude?" Khushi asked, her eyes widening. Arnav Raizada was only India's most prolific writer, with four bestsellers already to his credit, two of which had been made into smash hit Bollywood movies.

"Yes, I am the writer dude," he said wryly.

Khsuhi opened her mouth to say something when she heard voices downstair.

"Lagta hain kissi ne Intercom ke wires kaat diye. Upar jaakar check karte hain," the watchman said.

Khushi didn't wait for a second and made a dash for the emergency exit and ran down thirty-seven floors.

"Khushi, Khushi," Arnav called to her, but nothing could stop Khushi now.

Arnav stared at his computer screen, the words were now swimming. Book number five was his most ambitious work till date, a big fat novel spanning a hundred and fifty years. He was really doing a good job with the book until he had to head to India for Aakash's wedding, which unfortunately did not happen thanks to a bride who did not show up. But her best friend did.

Khushi, he murmured and closed his laptop. There was something about the girl that he found it impossible to get her out of his head. He had met several very beautiful, intelligent and funny women, but none of them imprinted themselves in his mind as she had. He opened the drawer of his desk and took out a crumpled paper. This had fallen off from Khushi's jeans pocket as she made the mad dash for the emergency exit. He had picked it up and for some reason brought it with him to London. He unfolded the paper and stared at it. If this was Khushi's hand, she wrote beautifully, he thought. The title said ' Ten Things to Do and had the following:

Arnav smiled and removed the creases from the paper and pinned it neatly into a file.

Khushi was exhausted. Business school was a killer with tons of assignments and group studying. She was hungry and was desperately missing Bombay.

Sigh!

She opened the fridge and took out the leftover salad from yesterday and sprinkled it generously with chaat masala, made herself comfortable on her bed and switched on the computer. She went to Facebook, her one connection with the rest of the world. It was the usual. Her dad had obviously clicked on some spam and there were strange things on her homepage. Her grandmother had as usual posted some strange youtube video, which by someone else might have seemed mildly racist. Anagha, her best friend had posted the lines of angsty song, clearly the wedding-that-did-not-happen drama was still a cause of trauma. Hmm. Arnav Raizada, she remembered, the moment she saw Anagha's page. On a whim she searched for him on Facebook and found him. She trawled down his page and saw, in a relationship with Asya Raichand. Hmpfh, of course he would be in a relationship with someone named Asya. What kind of name was that? Was it even a real name, she wondered. Who cares, she said and navigated away from the page. She had nothing interesting to post on Facebook, except maybe the BCG matrix or some impossible business school jargon. Out of boredom she changed her relationship status on Facebook to, in an open relationship with Parul Sharma. Parul, who happened to be online confirmed this immediately and she shut down the laptop and tried to sleep.

Her dreams involved handsome and kissable strangers, except that her grandmother with a rolling pin, a group of watchmen and complex business matrices kept coming in her way.

*to be continued*

PS: I am unsure if this is an OS or what term to classify it under, but there will be multiple parts. If anybody is interested in reading it that is.

Part 2: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/3412364/arhi-ss-bucket-list-note-pg-94-12-08-15?pn=6

Part 3: https://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=3412364&TPN=11

Part 4: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/84934580

Please do PM the rest, would LOVE to see what happens, seems like a REALLY good story <3

If you want I will send a Buddy Request..

Please continue soon.