Arshi FF: Tune Into Me-chapter:26 Updated Page 101 - Page 59

Good one hoping to see khushi come around

hey thanks for the pm dear

so what i can conclude is that arnav is at a stage when he himself doesn't know what to do with that irrational jealousy that always crept up whenever cam comes closer to khushi. not closer in that sense, but i guess he is just jealous of the easy camaraderie and the deep bonding between them and that absurd jealousy is also preventing him from getting well with cam(whom i have started loving so dearly) . he wants khushi all to himself and that he himself doesn't know. lovely update deedee.. i wish that you could update sooner.. like once a week...

Awesome update. ..

Your description of fringe festival is so thorough that I could feel as a part of all the happenings. . And it seemed so colorful and beautiful. . Amazingly written..

Aww.. Arnav was jealous of Cameron... I always love a jealous Arnav, this time is no different. .

Loved the update. .

Beautifully written each and every chapter,, loved reading them all,, 😊

awesome ...just caught up with the story ...continue soon

waiting for the next update. when is it coming? :(

Wish I could apologize Enough!!! One-- was a touch chapter, still not sure how it turned out, or if it turned out sensibly.

Two-- Was out of station for work purpose. And didnt want to write this in hurry! Took me a week and half. Lot of drafts and this was finalized.

And Finally, with holiday season kicked, I Promise I'll try to be more, little more regular at least. Specially with the story moving, this now needs to be updated regularly! I'll try to post ASAP! Forgive me if you can! and Pls Let me know what you think. Really does help me, think better!

Love

Dedee!

24. A Deranged, A Bizarre:

The night was dark, cold. There was moist in the air--- not necessarily the one before or after the rain; the humid was more because of the sea that roared tonight, like seething champagne. The torrents made a brooding sound as they battled with the boulders on the shore. They rushed, washed the sand and splashed themselves over the rocky shore, in regular intervals, creating those timely sounds, quite mysteriously.

There was the wind that blew into his ears teamed with this resonance of the ocean. Arnav haven't heard this kind of sound around here all these days. Or maybe the wind wasn't this audible before. It was now monsoon after all. Also, back in Gupta Villa, the ocean was just felt, not heard. Not as much at least. The Tree-house on the contrary, is right at the shore. And it was a rocky shore. And hence that sound of the ocean, the melody of it, makes sense. Maybe.

Or maybe, he was just listening to all of it right now, as he found himself sitting amidst of his brand new instruments in the lobby of his brand new tree house. Listening, however, didn't much help. He had been sitting at it for a couple of hours now, but nothing came to his mind. All of those tunes, which he thought he heard them play in his mind, all those moments which he thought triggered certain tunes, everything withered away as soon as he sat with his keyboard. His hands traced along the verticals of the keyboard, his fingers occasionally struck a chord of his guitar, his voice looked for a humming, but, nothing turned into any melody. He dived deep into his thoughts, into the moments that prompted him to think of tunes all over again"moments with her--- but nothing came. He just didn't hear anything from his mind. Music just didn't come to him, even though he was seeking. And it was frustrating. Highly exasperating. And how!

He looked glowered as a result and vigorously allowed his finders to collide over a bunch of naturals on the keyboard. They uttered an angry high node. That infuriated him just a little more. And then he heard them again. Those lively, joyful, laughs from the exterior. His jaw hardened.

They had been out there, at the beach, not much away from his tree-house, involved in their little pre-celebration of the wedding that was coming. The gang of friends. And particularly two among them. Camron and Khushi. They were there, laughing, having their sweet time. And he didn't want to think about them. But the shore was silent. Silent enough for him to hear them amidst the roaring of the waves. Not that he wasn't invited into their little party. He was, but he declined.

He had work to do, since the competition was due in just another week. So, he told them. But all he had been doing ever since they chose their fire place, not very far away from his tree-house, was to try and listen to them. And keep telling himself not to. Hear the laughs and try to asses if that was of Khushi's. If it was, was there Cam's laugh along with hers? And if there was, what happened to the others? Did they all leave them alone? If they did, why would they? And if they didn't, was there a chance that Cam and Khushi were having their lone time, despite being in the gang...? And if that was the case, is there something going on between them?

And of course, amidst all these various sounds and noises, outside his house and within himself, he did try to create music. Well almost.

Basically, Arnav's mind was a mess. A disturbed Tornado.

Agitated again, more at himself, he rushed out of the little music place, amidst those instruments and walked towards the tiny little bar corner of the lobby. He poured himself, a glass of old wine and tossed it down his throat within no time. And again he heard the sound of their celebrations. This time, he looked at the bottle in his hand and studied it intensely. Old wine, gifted by Sameer on completing the Tree-house all by himself. He let out a victorious smile and then started gulping down the bottle, while putting away the glass from his hand. It was half way done, in no time.

He walked to the wall-length window, looked at the patterns of waves splashing the rocks, and emptied the rest of the bottle, quite thoughtfully. Somewhere, amidst his drinking session the noises from the gang, stopped. Or so he believed. When this thought came back to his mind, he started to hear again. Keenly. There was just silence.

Several minutes passed. He heard absolutely nothing. So the celebrations did stop for the night. He concluded. However, curiosity took over him. Also, the barmy of his drunken senses. With these both drugging in his mind, he walked out of his house, stepped onto the shore and walked, looking for the flames of the fire. He walked for about five minutes and found them all, seated in respective recliners around the fire, facing the sea. The fire was almost fading away. Smirking, he walked and dropped a small wooden stack into the fire. It suddenly blew high, creating warmth all over again.

And then he glanced around, at the people sitting around the fire. His first relief was that he saw everyone sitting in their own low recliners, all asleep. Beer bottles lay in between them. So, quite sloshed too. His next relief was that Cam and Khushi, sat diagonally opposite to each other. Nowhere near or close. He smiled, exultantly again. His eyes were then fixed on Khushi. Her head tugged inside the hoodie of the sweater that she was wearing, her hands folded and hidden inside the long zip of the sweater and her posture, comfortably occupying the recliner. He looked at her for a moment longer and just continued to gaze. Next thing he knew, he lifted Khushi off her recliner with his two hands and started carrying her back to his tree-house, all the while gazing into her closed eyes. Intently, innocently and invariably. Also, a little deranged. "Its cold out here" he explained, to no one but himself.

Somehow after reaching the base of tree-house, he suddenly decided to settle on the stairs that lead up and stare at the beach at that time of the night, with her in his hands. And so, he sat, clumsily so, as she was in his hands. She then was placed over his lap, her head resting on his torso, her hands protected between his hands and his chest. Both drunk, both wasted. Both insane.

By then, the momentum of her body has been more. Being disturbed out of her sleep, she tried to open her eyes back into consciousness. The moment she opened her eyes, all she felt was his cologne. The typical men cologne.

"A...Arnva" she tried to get up. Her head acted weird.

"Shh... Its cold out there" He didn't even look down at her. He was just staring ahead. At the ocean. Lost.

"So...?" she mumbled, almost in sleep, trying to free her hands.

"Just stay here" he replied, nonchalantly again.

"Why are you holding me?" she gave up on finding her hands and titled her head to rub her eyes against his warm woollen shirt.

"Because, I want to..."

"Okay"

Her eyes were giving away, eye-lids felt as heavy as thick blankets, urging to veil her honey orbs and she was drifting away. That's when he lowered his gaze and watched her drift back, into the slumber. She smelled of beer and chocolate. Sweet and bitter, all at the same time. He imagined her having bites of chocolate in between those sips of beer. He smiled at the weird imagination. That's when she half opened her eyes again, catching him smiling at her.

"Why are you smiling at me?" she mumbled, shuffling inside his arms. "You are only supposed to frown at me"

He just continued to smile, amused this time and she continued to look at him through her half opened eyes. "You're still smiling"

"Yeah, because you're weird" he paused. "You should go back to sleep" He nodded.

"I should go back home"

"You can, in the morning"

"But it's cold here!" she protested, reminding him of the stubborn kid he had grown up with.

"I'll get you inside" He held her together.

"I'm not going to share the bed with you" she warned. He smirked. Now is not the right time to flirt. So he resisted the urge to pass a reply.

"I've a couch in there too"

She smiled, in agreement, but that was the maximum her senses could allow her to speak. And so, she remained obedient, for the rest of the little path, back into his house and into the small adjoining bed-arrangement above. As soon as her cold skin touched the warm mattress, she cuddled, reaching out for the blanket and wrapped herself inside, all with her shut eyes, quick clumsy actions. He just watched, entertained. Once she was settled in, he turned around to leave, sober enough all over again and getting ready for another drink.

That's when he heard another sound grabbing his attention. The sounds tonight.

He sighed turning around. She was humming. Some vague, weird tune, in her sleep. It was familiar, very closely familiar. As close as, if he could just close his eyes, he could almost imagine himself playing it. Almost as if, all those tunes, he had been trying to ruminate just minutes ago, came back rushing into his mind, quite invariably.

And then there was another sound. This belonged to the impact of a hard wood, against the cold wooden surface of the tree-house he was standing in. He let his eyes follow the sound. As she lay on her stomach, her hand escaped out of the quilt, falling out of the periphery; there, just below where her hand ended in the air, to the side of the bed and against the foot of the bed-side table, lay, that very familiar brown thick wooden notebook.

It was unfair, that this particular book has always been thrown into his face too often, lately. He complained. Given his record of invasions with this kind of book in the past, he had to admit; it is proving to be painfully unjustified, that he had to come in face to face with this book, time and again.

He stood there, staring at everything in the room, and back at the book. Moreover, as he already had an idea as to what she wrote in the book, he didn't really know how to just look at it and yet not look into it-----Given the desperation of the situation he had been in tonight.

Without giving any further chance for his sane mind to give anymore inputs, he walked, sat on his ankles, fetched the book and walked back into the lobby.

What happened in the next sixty odd minutes can only be termed as a Bizarre.

As he turned the pages of the book, one after another, a lifetime of events unleashed in his vision. There were all songs, lyrics, nodes and Sheet music and scores for the lyrics--- it was his music library at the moment to say the least.

But what appalled him, to an irrecoverable extent is the kind of music and collection of those tunes. The book contained, scribbling of nodes in most of the initial pages. But what came later, much later, or should he say much recent writings, were only clear, proper tunes and words corresponding to the tunes. One thing, he knew was that, Khushi had always been a step ahead of him in writing songs. And here, in this very book, there were tunes and lyrics that belonged to those tunes. And when he tried to read them, the audacity of his mind, allowed him to utter a familiar tune. It happened with almost all the tunes in there.

What he saw pretty much looked like this---

One line of written sheet music of the tune.

And below it were the words corresponding to that tune.

And the pattern of the visions in his mind had been something as follows:

One page turned and he reminisced the very first day, he landed in Belhaven; when he thought he carried a random Scottish, hot chauffer down the hill, only to find out that it was Khushi in his arms.

As he jumped with her in his hands, with the water-falls forming their effective background, the tune continued to play, with his creative senses suddenly activated quite prominently in its own weird way. As they were falling, with the elastic ropes holding them evenly, he continued to stare at the unconscious familiar woman, and the tune vowed to not leave his senses.

Behene de mujhe behene de mujhe behene de mujhe behene de
Ohooo.. behene de mujhe behene de mujhe behene de mujhe behene de
Behenede ghangor ghata, behene de paani ki tara
Sagar mein ja girna hai, behene de nadiyan ki tara'

Another page turned, and..

Kahin To.. Kahin To.hogi Woh
Duniya Jahan Tu Mere Saaath Hain...

Jahan mein, Jahan tu...

Aur jahan, bas teri meri jasbaath hai..'

He closed his eyes, and in split of a moment, his mind ruminated the memory where he was playing that very tune. Almost the same. In Clare's party.

His eyes closed, his breathing even, peace, like never before, as his fingers twirled their way along the Naturals and Sharps of the keyboard, his head nodding on its own accord along with the tune that is being played, his lips tugged inside with conviction and Arnav was possessed. In some liberal, new found trance. He could tell there was silence across the room, or maybe it was within him.

Another page turned, he read lines that reminded him of the moment on the islet. This one, he heard it literally. Have been the live spectator. Nothing but just that.

Aahein, darr, khushi, raaste
Kachchi baatein, sachche vaaste
Kahin pe in sab mein
Kahaan hoon.. main ?'

Yet another page and at this, was he was dumb folded. Blood vessels blocked in his mind. Everything around him paused or rather stopped. His lips parted, dry and struggling for some air. To breathe, to comprehend it all. What he saw can only be explained as, Surreal.

Itna bata doon tujhko, Chaahat pe apni mujhko
Yun tto nahi ikhtiyaar
Phir bhi yeh socha dil ne, Ab jo laga hoon milne
Poochhu tujhe ek baar

Tu hi ye mujhko bata de, Chahun main ya naa
Apne tu dil ka pata de, Chahun main ya naa'

And just like that as he carried her in his arms, the entire moment provoked him to think of a tune. He was marvelled at the way his mind was working lately. Some guitar strings, beats and a soft flute tune, played in his mind and with that, he could no longer look away from the muse in his hands.

He opened his eyes again, from that memory, into nothingness. He closed the book with a thud sound, reopened it, turned the pages vigorously to reach the one particular page where, proper songs had begun. He checked the printed date on the dairy. And he did it for all the pages ahead.

Each tune that was written corresponded to some moment they spent together. And those tunes were written more or less around the same time, when those events occurred. At least that's what the dates suggested. This was unreasonable. Ridiculous!

Either the alcohol had occupied his mind way too much, or he was imagining things.

There was just one explanation to all of this. They thoughts are like, musically.

Musically, being the most crucial word here. Because otherwise, there was nothing alike about the two.

But the question was still alive in his mind. Loud. Almost Tormenting within.

What the hell is all this about?

Finally we hv an update yipppee! Going to read it in few mins nd be bk wid comments

Oh arnav is pure jealous of cam...n he does not even know y 😛