It was not a coincidence that the mere sight of Arnav Singh Raizada sent the hearts of so many women racing. Despite what some might think, more often than not, it was not about the money either. There was more to him than the successful firm he had single-handedly built, or the millions that he made every year. His charm lay in the confidence of his swagger, in the way he looked people in the eye, unapologetic.
ASR had never had to justify his life choices to anyone. He was who he was, and had no qualms about the fact that the real man behind all that flamboyance was inaccessible to everyone. They all made their assumptions based on what he decided to project to them. And in what they thought they knew of him, they loved him as they hated him... and he could not care less about which way the balance tipped. On the contrary, he very much enjoyed observing the effect his larger-than-life personality had on people - the flustered women, the bumbling men. It was fun to play along, to charm the women and intimidate the men even further.
But there was something about Khushi Kumari Gupta, that whirlwind of a girl whose strange actions were motivated by reasons best known to her alone. As much as he was annoyed by the fact that she was intentionally disrupting his carefully laid out plans, deep inside he knew he had grown fond of her antics. It was often amusing to wonder what she would come up with next, and to be subsequently taken by surprise, because Khushi Kumari Gupta was nothing if not unpredictable. He enjoyed thinking of ways in which he could get her back, and watch her gape at him in shock when such a plan would succeed, knowing full well that she would have a comeback ready within no time. There was something in the time he spent with her, that reminded him of the simple, pure joys of his childhood, of those good-spirited pranks and guileless fights for dominance that bore no ill-will. Whenever she was not with him, he would reminisce about her, and despite his best efforts, he would be forced into a smile. He could simply not remain annoyed with her for very long. There was just something about her.
And it was that same incomprehensible "something" that there was about her, that somehow made it feel extremely hurtful when she chose to pass judgment on him based on his flamboyant lifestyle. It had physically stung when she had looked at him with derision, calling into doubt what he had said about respecting her boundaries. It had stung enough for ASR to feel the need to, for the first time, justify himself and show the glimpse of his real self that nobody else had been privy to. Because what Khushi thought about him, did matter. It mattered a great deal.
She mattered to him.
He wanted her to know the private, guarded self of his that he had never cared to show to others. He wanted to get to know her, the person who she was behind the craziness. She intrigued and fascinated him. Perhaps a little too much for someone who was going to disappear from his life in two months' time.
He shook himself out of his thoughts, and stole a glance at Khushi who was sitting in the passenger seat next to him as he was driving her home. She had turned her head the other way and was staring out of the car window, as though determined not to look at the heartless womaniser that she thought he was. It seemed that she had already cemented her opinion of him quite firmly in her mind. Probably why she was not mindlessly chattering as she usually did.
As the car halted before the Kashyaps' residence, she finally turned to him, and in a small, very uncharacteristic, voice, she said, "I'm sorry, Arnav, about what I said. And, um, thank you... for the lift."
Arnav gazed at her, pleasantly surprised and grateful for her apology, but before he could respond, she had disappeared into the night, leaving him in the solitude of his unsaid words, and myriad confused thoughts.
As soon as Khushi quietly shut the back door through which she had entered the house, the tears that she had carefully shielded away from others, began to flow out of her eyes. It was the strangest thing ever, because she truly had no idea why she was crying. Maybe she cried because she had caused the sense of hurt that she had seen in Arnav's eyes, and it pained her more than she was able to show. Or maybe she cried because she was growing to know, and like, the real Arnav who lay hidden behind the image people had of him, and soon it would be time for them to part ways, perhaps forever.
Her phone beeped. It was a text message from Arnav.
Don't worry about it. Sleep well. A.
She smiled, and with trembling fingers, typed back: K. Gnight.
Another message soon followed: Don't forget, our "engagement ceremony" is next week. I'll send you a dress so you don't come dressed in a potato sack. A.
Her smile faded away as she saw the inverted commas between which he had placed the words engagement ceremony. She knew, of course, that it was all fake. She had signed the contract herself. And yet, the thought that all that there was between them, was a contractual arrangement, filled her with melancholy. She was decidedly the biggest idiot on the face of the earth! Here she was, pining for him already, in anticipation of their inevitable separation, and in two months' time, he would have some brand-new brainless bimbo hanging off his arm and would barely be able to remember her name.
Too emotionally drained to think of a witty comeback to the potato sack comment, she sent him a meaningless emoticon, and the conversation ended here.
She took a deep breath as she stared at herself in the mirror. Time for a pep talk, Khushi Kumari Gupta.
Ever since the age of six, all she had ever wanted was to become a Bollywood actress. It was beyond just a dream, it was a stubborn thirst that raged through her. She had run away from Lucknow and come to Mumbai only to prove herself, to make a mark for herself. There would be plenty of time to nurse broken hearts once she would have made it in the film industry. For now, focus was key...
And in fact, who knows, maybe her little crush on Arnav was short-lived. She would get over it, and in hindsight, she might be able to laugh it off in good humour. Granted, he was definitely not a jerk, but after all, as nice as he was, he was nothing like her ideal of her perfect match: a romantic, who would be sentimental enough to write her page upon page of poetry, and fierce and heroic enough to have the will to fight the whole world to be by her side. Yes, she decided, it was just a little crush, that would soon wear off. And keeping some distance from that Raizada would certainly help matters.
Poor chap, she chuckled at herself as she lay down to sleep, he had been troubled enough.
Unbeknownst to Khushi, however, this plan of her staying away from Arnav would not sit too well with him. A day passed, then another, and then another, and Khushi had done nothing to make Arnav want to throw her into the sea.
She used to call him at work at least seven times a day and in her sickly impression of a devoted wife, berate him to eat and take care of himself and whatnot. But there had been no calls. Neither had she given any inane instructions to his secretary, like she had once when she had asked the said secretary to interrupt an important meeting to give him some ayurvedic digestive medication. There had been no deliveries of embarrassingly huge red-heart holding white teddy bears at the office. No flowers. Nothing.
He had texted her a few times, under the pretext of their upcoming "engagement," and had received short, perfunctory replies. She was busy, with auditions, and the new theatre group that she had joined.
And strangely enough, he missed her. He wondered if she really was that busy, or if she was subdued because he had gotten angry at her at NK's birthday bash. Maybe an awkwardness had seeped in between them for that reason. Why, he wondered to himself... why had he gotten so angry at her? ASR was known to never let his emotions show. It was often contended that he did not have any emotions to show. Yet, with Khushi, he could feel it all - anger, hurt... and so much happiness.
No, he resolved, if she really was distancing herself because of their little tiff, then he would bring her back to being the crazy weirdo who grated on his nerves. After all, a war is not won just because one's opponent fails to turn up at the battlefield.
Smirking mischievously, he picked up his phone and called Mr Kashyap, to inform him that Khushi had an important acting workshop to attend every day at 7 in the morning, and to ask him to please make sure that Khushi did not miss it.
You see, if there was one thing that Arnav knew about Khushi, it was that her 9-10 hours of sleep were sacred to her. And now she would be woken up early every morning, and on top of that, she would have to get out of the house, pretending to go to an acting workshop that did not exist in the first place.
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
CID
193