Part 7: Sheela's Blossoming Womanhood
Great! I have found the only taxi driver in all of India who is determined to follow every taxi rule that exists and those which must have existed a hundred years ago. And added to that, he will drive at a speed that will make Sebastian Vettel, or whoever the current Formula One cutie is, weep.
"Bhaiya, thoda jaldi chalayiye, please," Khushi implored the rather benign looking tortoise of a driver.
"Mohatarma, yeh chaar pahiyo walli gaadi hain, koyi udan khatola thodi hai," the driver offered as he slowed down the taxi seeing that the signal was about to turn red.
Wah! Sarcasm doled out with the whole Lucknawi tehzeeb, what was a girl to do now?! Somehow this meant that her thoughts were immediately occupied by those of Arnav Raizada. This was becoming an affliction, one that she was in no hurry to get over somehow. Maybe he was right after all; she must have been really dropped on her head as a child. From a great height. And possibly repeatedly. Wait a second, since when had she developed this warm, fuzzy feeling towards Arnav Raizada? He was all smug and condescending after all; no she did not harbour any feelings for him.
Her train of thoughts were interrupted when, Kachua-Chaap, as Khushi had christened her super-slow tortoise like driver turned on the radio. Rather he was attempting to, but in this ancient car of his, the radio made all kinds of weird noises as the airwaves eluded it. Finally he tuned into the Vividh Bharti which was playing music from the 70s and 80s. Now if only he played one of those zanny FM radio stations she would have got her setlist for her Rakhi Sawant act. But no, this song went:
Tumhe ho na ho, mujhko to, itna yakeen hain... mujhe pyaar tumse nahin hain, nahin hain.
Thank you, Radio God! For always providing appropriate background music for every thought of mine, Khushi sent a prayer.
"Mohatarma, chai peeynegi aap," Kachua-Chaap asked her a while later.
Wait. What? We cannot take a chai break? Bhaiyaji, come back right now. I have to be in Singhania House ten minutes ago. Hello!
But he had sauntered away. Determined to enjoy his tea in leisure.
Sigh. She slunk into the car seat and woefully looked down at the musty carpet that the taxi had. Her solitude was interrupted by her phone going off. It was Anagha.
"Khushi, where are you? Why are you not here yet? Have you decided what will be the opening number? You have not rehearsed, right? How is that going to work? You have to do Sheela Ki Jawaani, because it is David's favourite song. You will do it, right? And oh since you are getting so late, don't come to Singhania House. Come straight to the sangeet venue at Taj Avadh. Okay? Okay."
All Khushi could process in all this was that Anagha was marrying a guy whose favourite song was Sheela Ki Jawaani? You think you know a person and then they will say or do something as ridiculous as this.
"Hellooo. Are you there?"
"I don't believe that you are marrying a boy who likes Sheela Ki Jawaani."
"Don't be a snob. David loved Katrina Kaif, because like him, she is also British. He refers to the song as Sheela's blossoming womanhood song. I have told him so much about you; he can't wait to meet you, his fellow London-er."
And London reminded her of Arnav Raizada again. Her poor brain needed some kind of reset button. Seriously, can she stop thinking about that man already? They will probably never meet again, not after the whole Payal and Aakash fiasco. Payal. Sigh. She knew that she was not doing enough to try and find her sister, but one thing at a time. First, there was Rakhi Sawant's blossoming womanhood that required her immediate attention.
She peeped out of the window, Kachua Chaap had gone away to smoke with a few buddies. As he seemed to savour every puff, Khushi knew that he was not going to be back for another ten minutes at least. She looked around, the place seemed deserted enough. There was a car behind her, she could see on the rearview mirror, but nobody else. She quickly took off her T-shirt, underneath which she was already wearing a short pink kurta, of which she rolled down the sleeves. She then pulled out a lehenga from her backpack and pulled it up her waist, rather expertly without getting up from the seat and once done, she rolled out the jeans. After kicking off her sneakers and after swapping them for kitten heels, she untied her hair and combed them with her fingers as she considered herself in the rearview mirror. She didn't know about the blossoming womanhood bit, but she looked rather nice.
Wow! Getting dressed while being in public transport in Lucknow, she should have put that on her bucket list. And good lord, why did the guy in the car behind look like Arnav Raizada? She really needed help. It was going to be a long summer back in London, one that will involve extensive therapy. But really, where was Kachua Chaap now? Right on cue, the Radio God went, intinhaan ho gayi, intezaar ki...
**
Some days are strange.
Sometimes an entire week is strange.
Sometimes you have a whole year that is strange.
Arnav Raizada was experiencing one of those strange years. It had been this way, since the day a girl had kissed him in a penthouse in Bombay. Life did not seem the same again.
He was a writer, he was used to bizarre situations, but this was getting weirder. He now got how Alice probably felt as she fell into the rabbit hole; things were getting curiouser and curiouser. Following someone was tough work. Initially when he followed Khushi's car he was worried that he will lose her if he didn't hurry. Turns out he didn't have to worry. Khushi's car travelled at an excruciatingly slow speed. It was tough to keep the distance between the cars and he was worried that Khushi would spot him. Things started taking a real bizarre turn when Khushi decided to do a striptease while in the car, in public view. Of course, there was no one around and she was completely clothed underneath, but he was so shocked when it happened that his reflexes turned weak for a moment and he was pretty sure that Khushi caught him on the rearview mirror. And finally instead of going to Singhania House, Khushi had come to Taj Awadh.
Once he got there, he realised that Khushi was there for some kind of ceremony. The two bouncers in front of the ballroom, he noticed were letting people in only after they tallied them against some kind of guest-list. He walked up to them and asked them, "Can you tell me what is happening here?"
"It is a private function, sir," the bouncer said with an air of mystery.
Arnav knew that the bouncer was not going to talk. What private ceremony could it be? Anagha's wedding ceremony? But why would that be a top-secret one, given how extensively it was already being reported in the local media? Was Khushi getting married to Shyam? Was Payal getting married to Shyam? He had to find out? But how?
And that is how Arnav Raizada, one of the most celebrated writers of the country ended up crashing a shaadi party as a waiter. As he passed drinks around to people, he looked around for some kind of hint about Aakash or Payal. Though it seemed unlikely they would be around. Just as he was leaving the room to get a refill of the drinks, he bumped into Khushi. She stared at him, at first wide-eyed and then wagged her one finger at him and said, "No, you are not here. Go away." After which she covered her eyes with one of her hands and ran away.
What just happened, Arnav wondered.
When Arnav returned with some more glasses, the lights just went off and on the brightly lit stage, Khushi appeared saying, what's my name, what's my name, what's my name? One white dude joined her and some vigorous dancing followed. And Arnav keeled over and all the glasses came crashing down.
**
"Dude, are you okay," she asked him, concerned and puzzled.
This was no longer her imagination. This was indeed Arnav Raizada for real, his entire 6 feet 2 inches of handsomeness. She placed her one hand under his head and the other on his shoulder and helped him sit up. She held out a glass to him and signed him to take a sip. He looked at her quizzically.
"Don't worry, it is just juice without alcohol. I won't get you drunk," she smiled at him and he started taking a sip, looking at her bemused and making those big bambi eyes at her.
After having a little of the juice he seemed to feel better, for he sat up more comfortably.
"So what happened, can you tell me," he asked.
"Well, looks like you are a swooner too," Khushi said, a mischievous smile on her face. She combed his hair with her fingers and couldn't help but think that the guy needed a haircut. Plus, she needed to randomly stop touching him. Yes, you can, Khushi, yes you can. And she got up while he sat there finishing his juice.
"Sugar low," he explained.
"Were you following me?" she finally asked him, when he was done with the juice.
"Why would I follow you?" he said, bambi eyes not transforming into steely ones.
"Don't answer my question with another question."
"Why not? Since when did that become a rule?" he wanted to know, getting up and towering over her now.
Khushi had liked it when she was standing and he was sitting down on the floor. The whole, she looking down on him and he looking up at her made her feel powerful. But now, the power was all back with him.
"Why did you follow me?"
"What makes you think you are worth following?"
"Why are you so maddening?"
"Why were you dancing to such cheesy songs?"
"Why were you moonlighting as a waiter?"
"You are a good dancer."
"You are the worst waiter."
"Hmm."
"Don't hmm me. Why were you following me?"
"I wasn't following you for following you. I was hoping to get some clues on Aakash and Payal."
"Wait. You think I might have kidnapped Aakash and Payal."
"I didn't say that. I was just looking for some hints, but evidently you have no clue."
"No shit, Sherlock."
"It is cute when you are all sarcastic and pouty."
"Whatever. You followed me, that is unforgivable. I thought we were... friends. You should have asked me where I was going instead of following me."
"We are friends? I know, I could have asked. But would you have told me the truth?"
"Maybe. That is not the point. At least I wouldn't have felt violated that you followed me."
"I am sorry."
Bambi eyes was back again and this time in reversal of role, he started to play with her hair. Sigh. What was a girl to do now?
"Fine. I forgive you. Now let us go and get something to eat before you swoon and faint again."
"You are not going to let go of that one, are you?"
"Not in this lifetime... I mean, not lifetime obviously, until we hangout with each other."
"Lifetime is good," he said in an even tone and took hold of her hand and gently pulled her out of the room.
"So you enjoyed my blossoming womanhood dance, eh?"
"What dance? Yeah, impressive. But... I enjoyed... the little show you put up on your way here.. far more interesting," he said poker-faced.
No, he did not see that.
"Oh, well, actually, I was getting late... but whatever," she stumbled.
"I am not complaining. Sheela's blossoming womanhood has nothing on it," he said chuckling.
"Smartass!" Khushi said and hurled a folded newspaper at him.
**
Khushi and Arnav were sitting at Dastarkhawn, a Mughalai restaurant in Hazratganj. While Khushi polished a plateful of kebabs, Arnav watched her with a hint of a smile. He seemed to be enjoying watching her eat than actually eating the kebabs himself.
Perhaps Khushi was in some kind of Kebab coma or Arnav coma, because she didn't hear her phone ring.
"Khushi, your phone." Arnav shook her and pointed at her phone.
By the time Khushi picked up the phone, it had stopped ringing. She checked - 3 missed calls from Payal.
Wait.
"Are you okay, Khushi," Arnav asked concerned as Khushi had a coughing fit.
"I am... fine," she managed to say.
Beep.
Khushi, please come and meet me at Hotel Clarks Awadh, room no 307 tomorrow morning. Get me some clothes.
Payal, where the heck are you? How can you run away with Shyam? Poor Aakash.
Madorwhat? Why would I run away with Shyam? I am with Aakash, will explain when we meet tomorrow. But don't tell anyone.
"Arnav, I just got a text from..." Khushi began.
Beep.
And please don't tell Arnav anything. I know you hang out a lot with him these days.
What the hell!
"You got a text from? What were you saying, Khushi," Arnav asked.
"I got a text from.. my boss in London. He really wants me to do focus groups," she said, the first lie that came to her mind.
"Strange the lies that become true, eh." he said, smiling at her.
Khushi was feeling queasy; the kebabs, plus her fugitive sister, plus lying to Arnav, plus the warmth and affection with which he was looking at her. This was all so stressful.
"Can we leave, please," she finally told him.
"Sure," he said and helped her from her chair and opened the door for her.
What a sweet, chivalrous guy Khushi thought to herself. I am going to tell him the truth. But tomorrow.
**
The families were gathered at the Sheesh Mahal lobby again. They sat there all day, waiting for some news about Aakash and Payal. But none were forthcoming. Arnav was on his laptop, working on his weekly column for a newspaper when he saw Khushi come down the stairs. She had her large backpack and was dressed in a simple salwar kameez. With her hair neatly braided, and a tiny dot on her forehead, she looked like the demure girl-next-door a far cry from Sheela and her jawaani. He smiled thinking about the previous day. Normally he was determined to dislike popular Bollywood music and dance, but Khushi brought so much exuberance into it that it was hard to not be drawn to it.
He noticed that Khushi looked a little worried, those tiny lines around her eyes. He got up and walked towards her.
"Khushi, are you okay," he asked worried.
"Arnav, there is something I need to tell you. Don't ask me too many questions. It is that, yesterday, I mean, what I am saying is, I am going to..." she seemed confused. He placed his hand on her shoulder, oblivious to the fact that their families were watching them curiously.
"Khushi'" he began.
"Hey there, Champ," a voice said.
Arnav turned towards the voice and saw Lavanya. He immediately walked towards her and enveloped her into a big hug.
"Lizoo it is so good to see you," he beamed, "how come so suddenly and here in Lucknow of all paces."
"A lil birdie told me that for the first time since high school you are single again. I had to come," she said a sly grin on her face.
He laughed as Anjali came to give Lavanya a hug.
"Lizoo, by the way, meet Kh'" he turned towards were Khushi was, but found that she was gone.
**
"Lavanya is already in Lucknow," Aakash asked Khushi, his eyes shining with excitement.
Khushi was with Aakash and Payal, still unable to warp her head around the fact that these two had run away. Anyway, she was not feeling particularly bright at this point, a mopey feeling having taken over her.
"Who is Lavanya," Payal asked Aaaksh.
"Lavanya Kashyap is Bhai's best friend. Ever since they were children. She is wonderful, perfect in every way for Bhaii," he said.
"That is great. We should head back and play crazy cupid then," Payal said.
Khushi looked from Aakash to Payal, alarmed at the turn of events. She hated that Lavanya whatever. What kind of name was Lizoo anyway? Lame.
"Khushi, will you quit daydreaming, please? Let us head back to Sheesh Mahal. I am not looking forward to Daadi's drama," Payal said worriedly.
"Or Anjali Di's drama," Aakash said as they got into Kachua Chaap's taxi.
All of them sat quietly through the journey, contemplating the last few days. And the radio sang, ajeeb dastaan hain yeh, kahan shuru kahan khatam.
Shut up, Radio God, Khushi said silently, that will be enough for now.
Edited by TabassumR - 12 years ago
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