Arshi TS - Desert Rain/ Part 2/ Pg-21/(Completed) - Page 14

Part 2

~ The way of love is not a subtle argument ~ The door there is devastation ~ Birds make great sky-circles of their freedom ~ How do they learn it ~ They fall, and falling they are given wings ~

Rumi

Do not waste your half drawn arrow,

I have already lost broken pieces of my heart.

Collect and save the left-over stones,

My wounded body is already wasted

Let my health giver know,

Let the procession of foes know

He whose soul was indebted,

Has settled his dues today

Keep the burial shroud atilt on my forehead,

Lest my assassin may have misgivings that

Pride of self-importance and arrogance of love,

I forgot both after death.

On your side there was one word that was couldn't be uttered,

On my side there were a hundred thousand reasons to explain my behavior

What I said you heard, but ignored;

What I wrote you read and erased

I am like a mountain when I stop;

I am beyond infinity when I walk

Turning every stepping stone on the path of the beloved

Into a beloved's memorial

"Damn It", Arnav slammed a frustrated hand across the steering wheel, muttering curses under his breath. Switching on the ignition, he put his feet on the accelerator again, pushing with all his might, the jeep gave a horrendous roar, dirt and sparks flew in the air as the tyres rubbed against the sand, but it refused to budge from it's place.

"Damn you Arnav Singh Raizada how could you be so stupid as to not pay attention to your bodyguard's words before", he mentally berated himself. Now there was no choice for him but to wait for his men who were coming behind him on camels...

Wiping the perspiration from his forehead from the back of his hand which was forming on his skin from worry and fear, he placed his head tiredly on the steering wheel, letting the memories flood in...

What to say that was he fortunate to be born to an Arabian mother and Indian father who loved each other so much that they had left everything for their love or was unfortunate to be born to a couple who was shunned by their families.

A mix breed of Indian and Arabian blood he had been raised first by his parents then in the desert by his grandfather, with the loyalty & love of Indians and the courage of Arabians. His mother had done the eternal sin of marrying out of the tribe during her days of studying abroad. Arnav's father had been studying in the London School of Economics and her mother had been his classmate.

Their love hadn't started on a gentle note but one a fight, where they had verbally abused each other during a class debate, because their opinions were so different with each other. The fights had continued from library to caf where they had engaged on heated discussions.

Both were intelligent and stubborn as hell and that had been the catalyst that had brought them together. They had started to share their opinions then. They would converse for many hours on various topics from global economics, to war on oil, from fashion industry to stock market and would also share their notes on each topic.

Love hadn't been like a spark but it had spread like an undying wildfire between them, they had asked permission to marry from their respective families but when they had refused them permission they had married without their consent...

Arnav had been born to his parents after two years of marriage. Aarav Singh Raizada had belonged to a rich family and Khalida Bint-e Abdul Aziz was also the daughter of the leader of a famous Bedouin tribe of Yemen. But after cutting off their ties from their respective families they had struggled for every penny. The cost of accommodation plus living with a child had been too much. And that had triggered those famous fights of theirs by which they had been brought together as one.

But their patch up would be even quicker then their fights. Life had been going like turbulence until his mother's father, meaning his grandfather Abdul Aziz Bin Al-Khalid had decided to visit them. He had watched with curiosity as her mother had embraced the tall hawk-like nosed man, whose sun-tanned features had been rough and craggy like a man living in harsh climates.

For the first time Arnav had seen his mother sobbing on his grandfather's chest, otherwise he had never seen her cry not even after daddy and she would fight. He hadn't liked the look in his grandfather's mean black currant like eyes as they had switched from her mother's face to him standing behind her mother's back.

"His", his grandfather had asked stiffly and her mother had nodded in acknowledgement. "He looks like you", her grandfather's eyes had been coldly assessing his features, but he hadn't shrunk back like any other child would have after seeing the cold look in a stranger's eyes. Infact when her mother had told him to come and meet his grandfather he had come to stand before him, a bold look in his eyes as he introduced himself as Arnav Singh Raizada. "Arrogant as well", a craggy smile had split his grandfather's face. The cold look had soon vanished to be replaced by a fond one.

Although the ice had broken between him and his grandfather it was still a frozen silence where his dad Aarav Singh Raizada was concerned. His grandfather had then told about his true intentions that he had come to take her back with him to Yemen as her daughter had called him. Aarav had gone pale at his father-in-law's confession and when he had tried to reason with his wife, she had held a trembling hand to him stopping him right in his tracks. She was not ready to listen to him and she would be taking her son back with him, she had told him in clear words.

They then had a terrible argument but were halted by his grandfather who had intervened saying that Aarav would be unable to raise his son alone so he should give him up, but he would be granted visitation rights on that he won't have to worry. Aarav Singh Raizada had been rendered helpless for the first time in his life, he hadn't been able to refuse his wife who had been the only love of his life and in addition he wasn't a rich or powerful chieftain of a Bedoiun tribe like his father-in-law, he had been just a simple man that had belonged to a middle-class Indian family...

Arnav had been bewildered at her parents decision, he had been afraid for the first time in his life but he hadn't shown his fears to his parents when they had told him that he had to leave with his grandfather and mother. So much angry he was with them and so confused, that he hadn't looked back even once. He had left without a word hurt and angry at his father's rejection, completely ignorant of the sadness that had been pervading in his eyes...

After reaching Yemen he had continuously cried himself to sleep every night for two months, yearning for his father's arms. He had been afraid of snakes but he hadn't shown it to his grandfather whom he had hated at first with every inch of his pore because his innocent mind had been only able to conclude that it had been his grandfather who had driven a drift between them.

Three years later Khalida, his mother who hadn't been able to live well without Aarav, left for England to be with him, leaving an eight year's old Arnav behind, yearning for his parent's love and breaking her father Abdul Aziz's heart all over again...

Arnav had waited for his parents for five years, hoping that they would come back somehow to take him away from the desert but no one had come for him. In the meanwhile he had grown close to his grandfather, who he had found out to be a more understanding person than her mother had been.

Arnav had only known his mother for eight years but his grandfather had known her mother for all of his life and knew how selfish she could be. Hopelessly he had drowned himself in training to be a warrior, driving himself endlessly under the burning desert sun, helping his grandfather in his work. But still in a corner of his heart he had held a tiniest hint of the hope of meeting with his parents again...

Five years later he had heard the news of his parent's car accident on highway, where they had been instantly killed after their car was crushed by an oncoming lorry. They had been depressed, drunk and on the wrong route...

And he had known then that his hope was over...

Until 20 years later Arnav met the girl which changed him for a lifetime. She wasn't the perfect girl, nor the girl of his dreams and neither his angel. To tell the truth he wasn't the guy to dream or romanticize about girls. He was practical, a pessimist, headstrong and nonchalant about his life.

Their meeting had been very astonishing and unromantic just like him. He had gone to return the notes of his classmate Anjali, with whom he took classes of geology in Cambridge University. He had been ringing the bell of her apartment which was accommodated by the University when someone had snapped the door open and had emptied a full bucket on him, drenching him with water.

Then two honey colored eyes had peeked from behind the door to watch her victim's state and had rounded in surprise at seeing a total stranger shivering in the cold November of England. Oh my f***g God, what I have done?, she had cursed and that had caused his eyes to round in surprise at watching the curses flow out of such a tiny mouth. She had been cursing as she had pulled at his arm and dragged him inside and after she had pushed him inside the hot shower she had been still cursing.

She had thrown him her overlong night pajamas and a very big T-shirt which she had used to wear at night. The clothes which were loose on her had been snug on him. And it had almost reduced his male ego to tears at seeing himself dressed in white pajamas which had ended at mid-calves and an orange T-shirt with the words "I am In Heaven", emblazoned across them.

As he had come out of her shower she had tumbled him into her bed coverings, without giving him a chance to speak. As he had opened his mouth to demand that she tell him at once the reason of her attack she had held a hand to him, telling him to stay put and that she would explain everything but after she after making a cup of hot coffee for him...

That had been their first meeting which had given birth to a continuous stream of meetings after which he had came to know that her name was Khushi Kumari Gupta, an only child of an Indian couple who belonged to a middle-class family and had sent her abroad to study on behalf of their savings that they had collected for her dowry.

It had been her decision not to marry her fiance who had scoffed at her independence and liberal beliefs. Like true loving parents they had understood her consternation on her engagement and had respected her decision of breaking it off with her fiance Rahul...

One would say that Arnav had been very rash to get attracted to a girl like Khushi who was almost a carbon copy of his mother. But those were the same qualities that had attracted him towards her maybe he was trying to find a motherly love inside her, she was like a hidden treasure of emotions, from which if you'll pull out all emotions thinking that there isn't any left in the depths, she would surprise you by showing another depth to her personality. Although she was selfish, stubborn, moody and would pick up a fight with him on minor things he still loved her more and more with each day...

Their love was like a life cycle, unending which went moving on for five years. Until his grandfather had fallen ill and had called for him and then she had broken the cycle by refusing to go with him. He knew he had been impatient with a girl who took every step after calculating it's consequences, but he had been afraid that once he would leave he might not be able to come back. After all both of their studies had been finished and now they were living together at the Victorian building on Emmanuel Road which housed their apartment...

She had snapped at him, fought with him and he had felt her pain in every word. She had wanted him to stay with her in England, which he knew he couldn't and he had told her just that after which she had shouted at him to get the hell out of his life.

He had been a temperamental man himself, the heritage of his Arabian mother so he too had blown his top off and had told her that she was just like his mother and he wouldn't let another woman destroy his life. The words that had left his mouth had been spoken in anger but he had regretted saying them to her the next second...

And the guilty feeling had caused him to turn around and leave her there sobbing behind him, thinking that maybe she was better off without having to bear a male chauvinist like him all of her life...

Reaching Yemen Arnav had went straight to the hospital where his grandfather had been admitted. During his grandfather's recuperation period he had castigated himself for the grievous mistake he had committed in leaving her just as he had blamed himself for leaving his father alone and going away with his mother. There were many what if's in his life but the most important what if's had been only those two...

Two months after Arnav had come back to Yemen his bodyguard had started complaining about a crazy journalist who was asking about his whereabouts near his apartment in the Sana'a city and had also visited the hospital where his grandfather was admitted and kept under close observation. He had given strict instructions to the local newspaper not to post any news related to his grandfather, but they had still gone and posted the item about the ailing health of the famous Bedouin chieftain.

Although he had sued that newspaper, he still had given instructions to his bodyguards not to let any stranger meet his grandfather, so his bodyguard and close friend Rashid had refused that crazy journalist the permission to meet Arnav or his grandfather. She had left fuming...

It had not been even in the tiniest bit of his imagination that the crazy journalist could be Khushi, his Khushi. He had only known it this morning when a caravan on camels back's had come to him and their leader had told him that they had been bringing a woman named Khushi Kumari Gupta to him, who had shown them her picture with him and had told them to take her to Arnav as she was his wife and they would receive a big reward from him. They had been nearing Arnav's camp when a huge sandstorm had scattered the whole Caravan and Khushi's frightened camel had led her astray...

Arnav hadn't known how to respond to the leader's story, should he laugh or cry because at one hand he was dying of happiness that his crazy Khushi had come to meet him and on the other hand he was scared that something might happen to her as she was lost in the dunes. He had at once started to snap orders at his men to scatter everywhere in search of her and asking the leader about the point where the caravan had scattered he had jumped into his jeep and praying to God to keep her safe he had begun his quest to search for his treasure, Khushi...

After searching for her for five endless hours, he was going out of his mind. The sun had begun to set and his men who had gone in other directions had started to inform him through radio that they were unable to find Khushi. To their utter astonishment their leader who had never left his cool had begun shouting at them to find his woman even if they had to dig a tunnel under water. They had wanted to say that there was no water under the desert but had thought it better to retain their silence.

And to top it off Arnav's jeep had gotten stuck in the sand...

"Tun, tun, tun", the bell was ringing near him. Wincing Arnav lifted his head from the steering to watch from where that voice could be coming. His disoriented mind took a moment to discern the message, then like lightning he was leaping out of the jeep to bolt after the camel which looked definitely stranded in the desert. And then to his utter joy found Khushi's red dupatta lying just a few feet away, which he had bought her 6 months ago from an Indian store in England.

Snatching it off from the sand he started to took lengthy strides in the sand, staggering, almost falling on the shifting sand, he went headlong, finding her belongings scattered every few meters and then. She must have somehow opened the zipper on her bag and now her belongings were falling in a continuous line on the desert sand. The last thing he reached before he found her half buried in the sand was the half-covered sand dunes picture that used to hang on their bedroom wall...

"Khushi, Khushi", it was someone's voice that was dragging her out of limbo, where she had been residing like a frozen mummy for God knows how long. "Khushi Habibiti wake up", the voice was becoming clear as her gritty eyelashes started to flutter and her eardrums could feel the whooshing sound of the air whispering inside them.

Droplets of water hit her cheeks and her eyes fluttered open. The first thing she saw in her tunnel vision was a man hunching near her covered in white. As her tunnel vision grew into an unfocused one she could notice his caramel eyes and white headdress tied with a black Egal (string used to tie the headdress). His face was covered with the headdress, leaving only his eyes open but her disoriented mind wasn't able to discern the expression in them. But she could feel in her bones that she knew him from somewhere before.

"Arnav the picture cursed me", it was an unconscious whisper that left her dry and cracked lips. "Shh, don't talk Habibiti, drink that", feeling a hysterical laugh welling in his throat on hearing her words, Arnav put a hand beneath her neck to anchor her, then placed the water skin to her mouth which he had grabbed from the jeep before running to here.

Like a person dying of thirst she put her hands around the water skin and drank greedily from it, until she couldn't gulp it down quickly and it began to run into rivulets down her chin. "Slowly Ya Habibiti (sweetheart), you'll only make yourself sick, if you'll drink like that", he warned her, cleaning her face with the corner of his thobe (white traditional gown worn by Arab men).

"Arnav", she opened her eyes widely, her voice more clear now as she had gained some energy after drinking water. "Yes Khushi, it's me", he answered in a hoarse voice. "Arnav, thank God...Arnav", she extended a trembling hand and dragged the tucked corner of his headdress away from his face, revealing his tear and sand smudged face to her own teary eyes. "Shh, don't talk", he was kissing her hands, touching her palms to his wet eyes. "Don't cry you look like a kitten, a weak one", she said huskily and a watery chuckle broke out of his throat.

"You can't crack a good joke ever can you", he was laughing. "That bad han", she gave a sheepish smile and sliding her arms around his neck, hid her face in his shoulder. "I should spank you harder miss", he heaved her up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather. "Yes on my bottom mister", lifting her head from his shoulder she stared into his beloved eyes who were laughing openly now. "Be serious madam and don't you dare pull that trick on me again, do you understand", he widened his caramel eyes in mock admonishment...

"Yes, my darling Arnav never", she arched her neck to anoint a kiss over his smiling lips. The dust whorls lifting up at their front were annoucning the riders coming towards them on camel backs. Help had come atlast, his men were there...

As Arnav started to head towards them carrying Khushi in his arms, the heavens burst open, showering the thristy land with water. The fat cold droplets falling over their head were a sign of joy, causing the camels to give an ecstatic roar and his men to shout their joyful prayers towards the sky...

"It's starting to rain", she smiled at him, wiping the wet corner of his eyelash. "Yes it already rained", he whispered back staring into his hazel eyes. "In my heart", he added, the love of the world heaving like waves in his golden hawk eyes...

Lightning thundered, showering bolts in the celebration of a prince meeting his princess and the clouds cried their joy, emptying themselves over the prince walking mightily on the sand with his princess in his arms. His white thobe and headdress fluttered in the air, while the princess's brown and golden hair floated at his back, the sand dunes picture dangling from her hand...

He was the sand dunes burning beneath the sun and she was like water, falling in the form of rain to quench the thirst of those sand dunes...

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