Chapter 8: Love Lifts Us Up Where We Belong
A/N:
Hello peeps! I'm back with an update! I tried my hand at another OS before this update which you can check out here - OS: The Suited Man.
I also have been told to set up an AmaNKie club, which neverbefore is appointed President. Now, I won't be abolishing the ArNKie club, it's just that AmaNKie seems to be very popular ;)
Please forgive the long wait. I've written up a long chapter to compensate. I appreciate the comments and feedback I've been getting for the SS so thank you so much for writing in!
Hope you guys like this chappie!
Cheers x
PS: I watched Bombay Talkies recently, and guess who I saw in the movie? Our own Aarav beta! I must have been the only one in the theatre that squealed with surprised delight. It's such a good movie, so check it out :)
"Khushi is a pretty girl.."
NK's head whipped up so quickly he felt his neck cricked.
"I wouldn't dare!" spluttered Aakash.
"Me neither!" NK gulped, for an entirely different reason than Aakash. Looking at Aman, he added softly, "And neither should you."
The meaning was not lost on Aman. Smiling even wider, his eyes shone bright with understanding.
Very interesting, he thought as he pondered on his boss's strange behaviour. Cataloguing it for future reference, he turned to Aakash who missed this exchange between Aman and NK completely.
"Why did you say you wouldn't dare?"
NK laughed at Aakash's off-guard expression on his face.
"Aman, one word. Settlement!"
~*~
"Tick, tick, five hundred and eighty-seven. Tick, tick, five hundred and eighty-eight.."
Anjali's hoarse and tired voice reverberated off the metal walls of her steel prison, her anxiety and impatience wearing her out.
With no watch on her wrist and a dead phone in her hand, it was easy to lose track of time.
Hence the counting.
"Tick, tick, six-hundred and one.."
Anjali sat quietly in a corner, contemplating everything and anything. At first it was how long it would take till Nani's food hamper would turn cold. Then it was thinking about how long she would be stuck here till help arrived. Her thoughts ran back to the direction of Nani and her brother, lamenting how their cold war had brought her to this state of affairs in the first place. And then it was spent pondering about the very reason for their disagreement - their lack of love life.
A quiet sigh of resignation escaped her. She blamed her parents for their skewed and cautious view on love. Her parents were separated when she was five. Arnav was barely one. She remembered their lack of civility towards each other and most of their interactions ended up in an argument or one parent storming off. She couldn't remember a single moment when they were happy together. Her parents, high-flyers moving amongst the upper echelons of society, did not believe in the 'hands-on' approach to parenting. They were more of the 'nanny' approach. Arnav and she had grown up in an environment devoid of any exposure to healthy, loving relationships. After their divorce, a messy custodian war emerged. Each parent was fighting to get the other to be the sole guardian of the two of them. Their parents couldn't wait to get rid of them. It was only when they had mutually agreed to separate them and take one child each that Nani stepped in and put an end to the madness. They had been with Nani ever since.
Anjali acknowledged the scars of her life. She never pretended she never had them. She knew her parents were too immature, too self-absorbed and too selfish to have raised them properly. She was grateful for Nani's presence in their life. She knew Arnav liked to taunt her for being Nani's right hand man but the truth was she would do anything for Nani. Nani did not have to take them in. She had raised two sons tirelessly and earned the right to retire peacefully. Instead, she took them under her wing and raised them all over again. Under the love and care from her Nani, Mama and Mami, Anjali knew they were in a better position than they could have hoped for.
But it was so difficult knowing you were rejected by your own parents. She doubted that she and Arnav could ever get over it.
It was harder for Arnav, she knew. Not remembering his parents, he was rightly curious about them. He would come across articles about their father holidaying in a yacht off the coast of Australia, celebrating a merger in style. Or reports of their mother attending society balls in Monaco, toasting to the opening of a new vineyard. Young Arnav was a confused boy. A hopeful boy. He believed there had to be a reason why they could not be their parents any more.
Arnav had always been stubborn. When he first confessed those beliefs to her in his teens, she had no hesitation shooting them down, believing that he deserved the truth. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, she told him. He in turn told her to stuff her Harry Potter quotes aside and shut her off completely. Two years later, Arnav broke down and cried on her lap. He had seen their father. His school had invited Mr. Malik to present and give a speech at their prize-giving ceremony where Arnav was the school's highest achiever. After the ceremony, he approached his father and introduced himself, hoping to connect to his father somehow. Instead, the man fumbled and made a hasty retreat, leaving Arnav to stand there in the aftermath.
Her Mama and Mami, bless them, really tried to be the best role models they could for Arnav and her. Never intrusive or pretending to be substitute parents, they tried to give whatever their estranged parents couldn't. She had no doubt if it weren't for them, she and Arnav would have been worse off. They were the reason they were still sane and not balking at the idea of relationships. Mama and Mami's marriage was a testament to that.
But yet, she had an inkling he never recovered from that incident. Despite all his flings and courtships, Arnav never had a serious relationship.
She scoffed at herself. If she looked in the mirror, she knew she was no better herself. Anjali Singh Raizada, Delhi's Top Creative Curator and World's Top 100 Art Critic was a runaway bride. She had cold feet.
Dev, the poor man she left at the mandir, was her university friend of two years. After a brief acquaintance, he proposed to her, showering her with romantic platitudes and sweet nothings. She believed she was worthy of being loved and decided to accept his proposal. When she realised her mistake, it was too late. She could not complete the rasams. She could not sit through the pheres. She owed it to herself to be honest and so she left.
After that, Nani never broached the topic of marriage or love with her ever again - even after two years had gone by.
Anjali did not realise when she had stopped counting. She stretched and helped herself to a parantha. It was just as well, she thought as she nibbled the still warm edges of the flatbread. She wouldn't be able to explain her latest infatuation to Nani.
Because really, who falls in love with a voice over the phone?
Staring into space dejectedly, Anjali didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. She was currently consulting for a construction firm on the art works they wanted for their interior designing. Based on the aesthetics of their buildings, Anjali would match their vision with independent artists who created pieces in line with their look. Over time, her lengthy discussions with their head project manager turned into informal conversations that developed their professional relationship into a budding friendship. In a space of one year, Anjali had fallen for the man behind the phone.
Hey Bhagwan, who is stupid enough to do that sort of thing? She admonished herself like she had a dozen times before. But like on her wedding day, she couldn't shake the certainty of her feelings. She just knew. She knew that this was love.
Irrepressibly polite, he had always made sure to keep a professional tone in their discussions, leaving it to her to initiate their light conversation. She had proposed meeting up a couple of times before, but he always cited work reasons for being unavailable. Over time she had given up. He just wasn't interested in her that way.
She supposed it was karmic retribution. This is what you get for leaving a guy at the mandir, she gave a sad chuckle. Suddenly a screeching sound could be heard. Focusing her eyes on the entrance, Anjali sat upright with attention. Was help finally here?
As sunrays sneaked past the little opening made, Anjali covered her eyes to allow them to readjust to the brightness. Crow bar in sight, she let out a sigh of relief. She was going to get out of here soon.
~*~
"Khushi, tum theek ho?" his raspy voice filled the space of the car.
"Yes Arnavji, I'm good", came her meek reply. For the second time that day, Khushi found herself silent. It was either that or jibber-jabber on like she used to. She wasn't going to do that, no way! The last time she did, she landed herself a 'punishment'. She didn't trust herself enough to know what fate would befall her if she were to open her mouth like that again.
She gave a laugh. Someone had finally found a way to make her shut up.
"What's the joke?"Arnav asked, his eyes still on the road but with a small smile on his lips.
Khushi tore her eyes away from his lips. "Nothing."
"So laughing to yourself is a habit of yours?"
"Yes."
"You're crazy"
Khushi beamed, her awkwardness forgotten. "I know. My Buaji always calls me Sanka Devi."
Arnav laughed out loud. Sanka Devi! Looks like the goddess parallel he drew wasn't far off the mark!
Shaking her head at the infectious (and puzzling) mirth coming from Arnav, Khushi laughed along; her face turning a rosy hue of pink.
Giving her an affectionate smile, he casually asked, "So Sanka Devi, what are you planning to do when you get home?"
"Nothing" she quipped chirpily, not realising the tidbit of information she had thrown his way.
"Oh? Well in that case you are invited for coffee at my place."
Her heart sank. She really set herself up for that didn't she? Her stupid, loose tongue!
"Ermm.. there's no need to go through the trouble. I'm sure you are very exhausted.."
"Not at all", he replied back, the tone of his voice held no room for objections.
After a long pause, he lightly added, "Besides, we have jalebis."
"You do?" Khushi smiled. She had already accepted he won this round.
"Yup" he said as he drove past Shantivan Apartments.
"Arnav, wait! You missed our turning! The car park.."
"..is there I know."
"But then.."
"Khushi, do you want your jalebis or not?" his eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Haww! Arnav! You said you had jalebis at home!"Khushi's eyes widened at his audacity.
"And we will I promise, when we return home.." he winked at her, enjoying her expression of mixed amusement and exasperation.
"Now Khushi, which do you prefer? The city or scenic route?"
~*~
"Payal?"
"Hello? Lavanya?"
"Hello my new housemate! How do you like the place? Are you settling alright?"
"Hey Lavanya! Yes I'm doing fine. I met Khushi. She's every bit like you described."
"Crazy?"
"Yup. But with a heart of gold."
Laughter could be heard pouring out of the phone.
"That she is. I just wanted to let you know what's been happening with my hostel lease.."
"Oh yes. Khushi told me. Has it been sorted out yet?"
"Only just! I am moving out tomorrow so I'm just letting you girls know about it okay?"
"Okay. Does Khushi know already?"
"She isn't picking up her phone, so please let her know?"
"No problem. We'll see you soon Lavanya! Tomorrow evening?"
"Yup! I'm off to pack now. See you!"
Putting her phone aside, Payal continued to stir the pot when she heard a car pull into the drive way. A succession of three door slams was heard and so Payal peered out of her window to see what was going on. Seeing the person walking away from the driver seat of his car, she recognized the man with the aviators. Hooligan Raizada and his posse of mates have just arrived home, she smirked as she turned the gas off.
Aakash is such a goofball, Payal smiled as she recollected the incidents that transpired between them.
And an A-class idiot, she added, shaking her head in humour. He was a harmless, sociable jokester that she found humanely impossible not to like. So far his lack of pretention and lame jokes scored him points with her. She also liked that he was considerate enough to offer her a lift every time he saw her, though she suspected the cause stemmed from guilt rather than courteousness.
Whatever the reason, he's alright, she admitted grudgingly to herself. And if he is making amends for the incident, he is going about it the right way. As they say, kindness is but a deadly weapon, and Payal knew it.
~*~
"Hello? Can you hear me?" called a male voice through the crack between the doors.
Anjali stared at the doors in disbelief. She had a niggling feeling at the back of her mind telling her that something big was taking place. But what?
"Yes, I'm here."
"Okay, this is what's going to happen. We are going to reboot the lift system to get them moving again. I assure you this is safe and nothing will happen to you while you are in it."
Again, that feeling returned, but with greater intensity. She just couldn't put her finger on it.
"That is fine."
"Ok! Om Prakashji? Please start when you are ready."
Anjali waited for the next few seconds, anticipating a change to occur but after half a minute passed without any improvement, she heard the man call out to her.
"Ek minute, I'll check on what's happening."
In the background she could hear Prakash Kaka yell about some wire or the other, and soon the footsteps returned.
"Hello, Miss?"
"Yes?"
"We'll have to pry the doors open instead. We aren't able to manually override the system so we can't reboot the lifts."
"What happened?"
"The wires shortcircuited."
She took in a big breath.
The man quickly interjected, "But you are very safe. Our lifts have a lock safety mechanism. In the event of lift failure the locks activate and stop. They break till they reach the next level and stay there. You are in a very secure environment.."
"It's an environment I can't wait to be out of, I assure you!"
"No problem Madam. Will just crow bar you out. Just five minutes. Hang on."
~*~
It was an interesting sight to behold. On any other day, people wouldn't have given the scene before them much thought but Devi Maiya knew better. She had known how rare a sight it was to see a beaming Arnav and sullen-faced Khushi emerge from a Halwai shop.
She knew that Khushi's bewilderment, confusion and helplessness at the situation was building her frustration with Arnav. The boy wasn't helping either. His no holds barred smiles and winks he'd been sending her way only served to impede progress even further. Devi Maiya did not envy the whirlwind thoughts that was Khushi's state of mind at the moment, and her extreme annoyance of being tricked into spending more time with Arnav on the drive.
To say Khushi was in dire straits would be an understatement.
Arnav on the other hand, was the epitome of happiness. All his hard work had borne fruit. After weeks of clever planning, strategizing and agonizing over the details, things had finally fallen into place. He was finally able to plan his attack in a constructive and scheduled manner: Step 1- Have coffee and get her to see him as a more than friendly prospect. Step 2 - Date. Step 3 - .. well, he hadn't planned more beyond that. Getting to step one took him more than he thought he'd needed.
The trip back had been awkwardly suffocating for one passenger and complete bliss for the other. Khushi couldn't think of a better hell than to be in a small enclosed space with Arnav, carrying a box of piping hot jalebis on her lap and not being able to breathe for sheer temptation. It was with utmost relief she hopped out of the car when they arrived back home.
The faster they had their coffee done and over with, the sooner she could reach the safety of her home and collapse. This was definitely not her day.
~*~
And with one last push, the doors were forced open into a man-sized gap wide enough for her to walk through.
Gathering her belongings, Anjali stepped out of the lift, blinking against the assault the sunlight had on her eyes. Covering her eyes, she peered at her savior.
"Sorry for the terrible inconvenience. Normally these problems happen in a blue moon. We always make sure that our lifts are regularly maintained but it appears the problem is a programming glitch. On the behalf of the management, I deeply apologise for the inconvenience caused. Let us know if we can compensate you in any way."
That voice. Realisation began to seep into her consciousness as she continued to squint at the man. I know this voice. Could it be..
As her thoughts congealed together, Anjali's eyes finally adjusted to the light and took in the features of the man before her.
His hair was chestnut brown with wavy locks swept back with sweat from his exertion. His build was stocky but fit, with his rolled up sleeves emphasizing the powerful biceps they encased. Dressed in a collar shirt and pants, the man looked as if he had walked out of a business meeting to attend to her. She stood stock still, drinking in his handsome features as she tried to gather her wits about her.
"Are you alright Miss?"
Anjali mutely nodded.
"Well, here is my name card. You can reach me at my office number at any time if you have any queries. Are you sure you do not require any further assistance?"
Her head shook once more. She did not have to look at his name card to know who he was.
Shaking her hand, Shyam gave her a warm smile before leaving. "Well in that case, I'll take your leave. I'll contact my contractors as soon as I can to address the lift problem. Okay Prakash Kaka, I'm leaving."
He gave both of them a nod before walking away. As he shuffled away, Anjali's eyes immediately drew to his awkward gait and finally understood why he had always been hesitant about meeting up. Mr. Shyam Shah walked with a limp.
~*~
Arnav chuckled at the speed Khushi ran off. He had been able to make her blush so much today that he couldn't be more happy. Looking forward to spending some more time with her, he climbed the stairs with her; enjoying the companionable silence. As he reached his door, he drew out his keys and gave her a warm smile.
"How do you like Arabian coffee?"
"Never tried it before."
"Well, there's a first time for everything."
And he swung the door open.
His mood plummeted. They have got to be kidding me, he looked in amazement.
At the kitchen's island table, 3 pairs of eyes stared back at him with guilt. Aakash stood in front of the microwave, holding it open as black, splattered goo was spread over its door and the space inside. The acrid smell of burnt chocolate hit his olfactory receptors like a tsunami wave. What the actual..
"Arnav, you're back! Hey Khushiji! Nice to see you! Are those jalebis?" NK's affable voice rang out, his head peering behind Aman's back.
"It's Mississippi mud cake", Aman answered Arnav's unasked question. "It's not sugar-free so you can't have it."
"Well, it appears you can't have it either." He replied distractedly. That was a new microwave.
Aakash rubbed his neck awkwardly. "I don't think the microwave is broken Bhai. A quick wipe will do."
"Why can't Arnav have the cake?" Khushi was curious.
"Besides the fact that it has blown up in the microwave? He's diabetic." Came Aman's reply, giving her a teasing wink.
That wink sprung Arnav back into the present. He stared at Khushi's face, noticing she did not look very amused with him.
"I suppose I was expected to eat all of them by myself then?" She held the box under his face, shaking the twenty-odd jalebis in there.
Arnav gulped.
"You don't have to eat that alone. We can help." NK suggested merrily, coming towards her and taking the box from her. Arnav glared at him. This evening was not going according to plan.
"Come Khushi, why don't you join us for tea?"
"No I really mustn't intrude. Thank you for your kind offer. I'll head home now. I'll see you all tomorrow."
Arnav interrupted her, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "Do have some coffee before you go?"
"I'm good Arnav. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the lift." And she left back through the door as quickly as her legs could carry her.
Arnav stared after her in abject disappointment. He didn't make it to step 1 again.
"Khushiji is so pretty, right Aman?"
Aman, who was biting into his jalebi at the moment choked in surprise. He quickly stared at his boss's face, wary about his reaction. He couldn't have been more right about his assumptions. His boss and longtime friend looked downright murderous.
NK, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to this fact. Aman didn't know if the man was foolhardy or brave. What he knew was that he wanted out of it.
"Er, Khushi is nice. Erm, right Aakash?"
Aakash's eyes widened with betrayal. Did Aman have to rope him into this mess too?
Looking back into his brother's intense stare, he said, "Khushi is a nice enough neighbour."
"Oh but she is so sweet. Aakash, you didn't know her like we did. Khushiji is so bright and sunny. She always has the most interesting things to say." Arnav stared mulishly at NK as he threw another wink his way.
NK was starting to get on Arnav's nerves. What was his game? Did he like Khushi? Did HE???
"Do you like her?" Arnav asked directly, fixing NK with a deadly glare.
"Do I like her? Of course I do.." NK smiled at the reddening face of his cousin. "Who wouldn't like Khushiji?"
Aman and Aakash quickly glanced at the walls, feeling extremely uncomfortable with the situation and hoping desperately Arnav wouldn't lump them in the same category NK was suggesting.
Arnav's eyes narrowed at his cousin brother. The muscle in his jaw twitched. He had not expected NK to harbor feelings for Khushi too.
"When?" he growled. The atmosphere in the room was quiet and deadly. In the background, a dollop of burnt mud cake slid out of the microwave, but none of the 4 men noticed.
NK seemed unaffected by this of course. "Why, since we were introduced! Do you not remember our first meeting with her?"
How could he forget? The halo of her glistening black hair and her heavy bag. The electricity in the air of their mutual attraction. And NK's untimely bump.
"Your point being?"
"My point is very simple. Khushi is a wonderful woman. But you already know that don't you, Nannav?"
Arnav was thrown off by the question. What?
His confusion showed on his face. NK shook his head at his hopeless cousin. He thought he had spoken in plain English.
"You like her don't you?" his voice all jokes and tease.
The smirks that NK, Aman and Aakash sent his way took him off guard. He was at a complete loss for words.
"Why does it matter to you?" He blurted out absentmindedly, much to his chagrin at their widening smiles.
"Oooh so he does like her!"
"I'm not surprised. I thought he was going to strangle me in the lift today."
"Anjali Di has got to hear about this.."
As the men continued to tease him further, Arnav, being unused to this level of teasing and ribbing felt flustered and left to his room not without retorting, "Just clean up the microwave". The last thing he heard as the door shut close was the raucous laughter and wolf-whistles coming from the kitchen.
---
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Ye Hai Mohabbatein
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