TH 2: To Love or Not To Love: Ch 63 & Epi - Pg 162 / May 2 - Page 85

Hello Everyone

Thank you all for your immense love and support. It humbles me and I want to express my gratitude to every single one of you for this amazing feeling. Lots of questions. My wattpad id is the same as my IF id: shrattila. Please do follow me there. I will be completing this story there and subsequently posting more of my work there. Savera84 did share some information about IF revamping their FF section. The thread indicated it would go live in Feb. Definitely worth checking out and if it is as they claim, it might be another great opportunity to post my work.

I will not be sending PM's of my work to my readers anytime soon. It takes away too much of my time and honestly acted as a deterrent to me continuing to write on IF. But as I promised, I will complete this story.

So without further ado, onto the next chapter.

PS: For some reason, I am unable to post pictures anymore 😔 So we will continue with the story without the header picture!

As usual, eagerly awaiting your comments.

52

The sparse amount of moonlight filtering in through the vivid images painted on the window glass confirmed that their wait was still not over. Both Arnav and Khushi had given up any hope that help would come along before dawn.

Khushi’s eyes were growing heavy by the minute and yet she refused to close them. They kept going back to the flickering candle flame, that was almost going to die. Arnav had managed to find a matchbox and a few more candle stubs in one of the sconces. He had then begun lighting them one at a time; when the first one was about to burn out, he would light the second. He had two more left and hoped it would last them until dawn.

Khushi looked at Arnav, who was busy replacing the almost burnt candle with a new one and thought of what had just transpired between them a few moments ago.

“Shhhh”, he comforted her not knowing what had caused to break down. She clung to him harder and cried some more. He gently caressed her hair, rubbing his palm in concentric circles on her head to calm her down.

“Mia cara,” he whispered and Khushi looked up at him, big black eyes filled with doubt and fear. He felt like a monster. He deserved to be called one. Her words from the long-ago fashion show echoed: “What if it had been your sister instead of mine?” He had dismissed it then. He couldn’t dismiss it anymore. And so Arnav Singh Raizada did the unthinkable. He held Khushi Kumari Gupta’s shoulders and gently kissed her forehead. “Sorry,” he said, in a barely audible whisper. And yet Khushi heard it. “Sorry for everything I put you through.”

****

Khushi had considerably calmed down and was now fidgeting with her hair. Every time she tugged on it, bob pins she had painstakingly used to keep her curls in place fell. Khushi either didn’t notice or didn’t care. But the growing mass of unruly curls was beginning to drive Arnav mad.

He looked at his phone once more. It had 15 percent battery and no reception. If he wanted his phone to work when they finally got out of this place, he would have to turn it off now.

With nothing better to do, Arnav decided to focus on the statue of Mother Mary holding baby Jesus. It was made out of white alabaster, beautifully carved. The emotions portrayed on her face somehow seemed both heavenly and earthly at the same time. The flickering candle flame gave her a serene aura, as she looked fondly upon her child, who she knew was the son of God. Did she know what the child would endure to free mankind from its sins? Did she know that her child would be betrayed by one of his own, for a mere thirty pieces of silver? Was she worried about the safety of her child after she departed for the heavenly abode? Perhaps, but none of that worry or concern was noticeable right now. All that was visible was her tremendous love for the child. It was as if she knew that the one thing that could protect her little baby was her true love and she endeavored to give him as much of it whilst he was still with her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”, said Khushi, snaking her hands through Arnav’s arm, and rubbing her palms together. October in Italy, stone walls and no fireplace was cold. “You can almost feel Mother Mary’s undiluted love for her child.”

Arnav looked at her, and back at the statue. “Mother’s are like that Khushi,” he whispered. “They do everything in their power to protect their child.” And as if his tongue had a mind of its own, he continued, “including giving up their life.”

Khushi stared at him, unable to comprehend the cryptic message and afraid to ask for more information. But if she had known him better, she would probably have noticed that lone teardrop he was fighting hard to keep within his eyes.

***

Time continued to pass. Nobody could tell what the time was or how much longer it would be before the sun rose. It seemed to stretch its reach in a bid to win some kind of battle. The poor angels who looked towards time felt sympathetic for the human. They begged and pleaded time to move fast, urged it along to bring on the new day. But time stood still. When all their pleas fell on deaf ears, the angels asked time for a reason. And time replied that it always moved at its own pace. The humans were the ones at war, wanting time to go fast and then slow, turn back or move forward according to their whims and needs. Why? Asked the angels. So they can prove their supremacy, stated time. Why? Asked the angels again. For I’m the only one who knows what has happened, what is happening and have the power to set things right.

****

The candle flame flickered once more, the dimensions of the white wax surrounding it growing by the minute. Arnav got up to replace the candle with the second last one. The stone-walled chapel was getting chilly and Khushi was fervently rubbing her hands against each other and against her feet in a bid to keep herself warm. Seeing her struggle, Arnav took his coat off and covered her with it. He then crouched next to her and proceeded to mimic her actions of not more than five minutes ago. Khushi looked at him and simply took his hands into hers and started rubbing them. Finding the deafening silence awkward, Khushi began, “ASR.” Her speech drew a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

When she continued to pester, he simply stated, “After all that we’ve shared, calling me ASR seems like a farce.”

She smiled at that. It was true. She decided to end the farce.

“I accept.”

“What?”

“Your reasoning. From now on, I’ll call you Arnav.”

And he chuckled once more, a small dimple barely forming near his right chin. She almost wanted to reach out and kiss it right then and there. How had she not noticed it before?

“Because I hardly smile Khushi,” he stated as a matter of fact.

Wondering if she had spoken her thoughts aloud, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean the answer to your question. You were thinking about my faint dimple, weren’t you?”

She smiled a bit more. “You’re good at reading people’s thoughts.”

“I wish.”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t been able to figure you out. You intrigue me. I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong and I’ve been wrong about you every step of the way.

“I thought you were illiterate, I was wrong. I thought I could scare you, I was wrong. I thought I could demean you, I was wrong. I thought I could hate you, I was wrong. I thought I could forget you, I was wrong. I have been wrong about you, every single time. And honestly, I’m tired of being wrong. So Khushi, if there is something going on between you and Aman, please tell me. It bothers me that I don’t know what to believe. But I promise you I will believe whatever you tell me.”

For a man who spoke so little, tonight, ASR had said quite a bit. Aman had told her that she was in love with Arnav, but if she had to get to him, she would have to exorcise him of ASR. She felt this would be a good time to start.

Patience was not one of Arnav’s virtues. And so he asked again, a little more forcefully. “Do you love Aman?”

“No.”

He exhaled, not knowing that he had held his breath in anticipation.

“Thank you,” he said genuinely.

“Wait, Arnav. I haven’t completely answered your question.”

When he raised his eyebrow in response, she continued: “I don’t love Aman, he is just a good friend, and yes my family has misunderstood my preference for him, but you should know that I am in love with someone else. My family doesn’t know about him as yet but I do plan to tell them once I get back home.”

The monster was back, rearing its head, blowing fire out of its mouth, ready to attack.

“Who?”

“I haven’t told him as yet and it’s unfair that I tell you before I confess my feelings to the man himself.”

Their friendship had just begun and it was already straying into unchartered territories.

Hi Shruti,

I just wanted to tell you how to post pictures. That is why I reserved two spots.😊

Click on the insert image icon.

You will get the following box to insert image URL

Remove the original URL and insert the one you got from any image hosting app. Anything before https and anything after .PNG or JPG needs to be removed. I use imgur to convert images to links.

Change the size (if you change the width, the height will automatically gets adjusted and vice versa) and click on the refresher button (bottom right corner) in the box. Then the picture will be posted.

You can edit the picture as many times as you want by editing the post just like you do with text.

Hope it helps.

Cheers.......

Now to the chapter.

Khushi let out everything she kept inside her heart all these days. I think she must be feeling free and light in her heart.

I loved how Arnav managed to light the candles one by one to keep light during the night. He even gave his coat to Khushi to keep her warm. Turned off the phone to save the battery.

Khushi reciprocated by rubbing his hands. Now it is Arnav's turn to say sorry and a gave a glimpse of his past. Now, Arnav came straight to the point and felt relieved to know that Khushi is not in love with Aman. But she dropped a bomb saying she loves someone else. Until she tells her future boy friend about her feelings, Arnav is going to sulk and might go back into being ASR.

Loved the chapter.

Cheers.....

Oh what will Arnav do with this now? The stupid man has not figured it out yet.

Lovely lovely update, shruti.

Finally the great ASR is sorry about everything and couldn't hide to show his vulnerability.

He admitted that it is bothering him. But why is he so dumb when it comes to the matters of heart? How does he think that she will allow him to kiss her if she loves someone else???

Aaah!! What is he going to do now?

Waiting dear..

Lovely update. I thought they were moving two steps ahead but, damn. They've just walked back 5 steps.

Lovely update. Looking forward to see how this goes on from here.

Cheers

Fabulous update,they are bonding sitting in the chapel all alone n sharing things n Arnav also confessed abt his feelings towards her partially but at the end her confession that she loves someone else again made a ugly monster in Arnav’s head n I hope before dawn they clear this misunderstanding n confess their love.

ASR needs to come out from under the jealousy cloubs to see what's glaring in his face. How many more hints does he need that the one Khushi is in love is him? Feel sorry for Khushi and yet I root for her for not giving it to Arnav in a silver platter.

As always, I'm left waiting impatiently for the next part.

Wonderful update.pl pl continue soon.

Hello

I have a confession. This was one of the most difficult chapters I've written for this FF. I, myself am not too happy with it. I rewrote this many times but somehow the way the events panned out left me wanting. I'm not entirely happy as there are things that I wanted to say that didn't quite fit in. I'm not sure how it has come out and would love for some honest critique/feedback to help me improve my writing.

For all my readers who are also on Wattpad, my Wattpad id is shrattila. Please follow me there to read more of my work going forward.

I did type a lot more a while back but India Forums reloaded and I lost my train of thought. So without further ado, onto the next chapter.

53

The sea breeze at Chowpatty tasted salty. Billowing winds allowed for liberal amounts of seashore sand to line anything that it touched. 15-year old Arnav had mistakenly opened his mouth to scream and the winds impartially deposited salty sand on his tongue. He spat and then tried to wipe the rest with his palms.

Covering his mouth with his hands, he called out again, “Di.”

His sister was busy wading into the sea. She had fallen in love with the sand and the sea the moment she laid eyes on it.

“Di,” he tried to shout out to her once more and made a dash to catch up with her. He caught her by surprise and pushed her into the waters, wetting her clothes in the process.

“Chhote”, admonished Anjali. “I don’t even have a change of clothes.”

“So what?”, smirked the brother. “We're put up just two blocks away!”

Anjali scowled and Arnav smiled some more, splashing her with more salty seawater. “My clothes will stick to me Arnav”, complained Anjali and to get even with him, pushed him into the waves.

Seconds later, a soaking wet Arnav emerged from the sea, promising to get back at her and chasing her around the beach.

Sitting at a near distance, munching on freshly roasted peanuts, Ratna watched the entire revue with amusement.

Arnav had little time left to play with his sister. Soon she would be married off, to one of India’s wealthiest businessmen, if it all worked out. Thakur Arjan Singh Raizada had recently met them at a friend’s wedding and their family seemed to have taken an instant liking for Anjali. He viewed the alliance both as a great prospect for Anjali’s future as well as his booming empire.

Ratna was merely informed of his decision and expected to fully support it.

“Get ready,” he had told his wife. “We’re leaving for Mumbai today and if all goes well, Anjali will be betrothed by the end of this week.”

“But”, protested Ratna feebly, “she is only 19.”

Arjan gave her a long hard stare, indicating the conversation was over.

Ratna quietly packed their bags and within the next three hours, the family had boarded their flight to Mumbai.

Their hotel was right next to the famous Chowpatty beach in Mumbai, right off the main road. The location was strategically picked, in the neighbourhood where the prospective family lived. It was a social statement, that the Raizada’s were at par with them when it came to wealth.

****

As two dripping wet teens tiptoed their way to their rooms, Ratna tried to divert Arjan’s attention. She feared his reaction if he found out about Arnav and Anjali’s little play at the beach.

“Have you told Anjali yet?” asked Arjan without looking at his wife, his focus entirely on the book he was reading.

When his question was met with silence, he continued: “They’ve invited us to tea tomorrow. Make sure Anjali is well-dressed and well-behaved.”

His emphasis on the last word prompted Ratna to speak: “But shouldn’t we ask Anjali what she wants?”

Arjan looked up from his book, his stare piercing through Ratna’s soul.

“Remember, the only person who knows what’s good for Anjali is me. And it would be better if you explained this to her before tomorrow.”

Recently the Raizada’s were being forced to acknowledge that their only daughter had a fierce and independent streak. Arjan was unhappy. Girls were not supposed to be opinionated. It always ended in marital issues. Raizada women were known for their mild and patient nature. Anjali was turning out to be an anomaly. And Arjan constantly blamed Ratna for it.

When Anjali Raizada was 16, Arjan wanted to discontinue her education. “She is more educated than any other Raizada woman in history”, he reasoned. Ratna would hear none of it. “Anjali is just as capable as Arnav and deserves the opportunity to prove herself.” Arjan disagreed. Ratna threatened suicide. Arjan relented.

Anjali had just started her law degree when Arjan decided to get her betrothed.

“But…”, began Ratna when she found out.

“I listened to you, now you listen to me”, said Arjan. The conversation was over.

Ratna stared hard at Arjan’s face before moving away. She thought of her own marriage. Arjan had been her father’s choice. She was simply expected to accept the decision. When Anjali was born, she had promised herself her daughter won’t face the same fate. Alas, she had forgotten, women weren’t even allowed to make promises.

***

Tea was a standard affair. Arjan looked at their status and wealth, Anjali tried to discern the character of her soon-to-be husband, Arnav busied himself with a book and Ratna felt unwanted.

Thakur Arjan Singh Raizada was looking for a business ally in Vinod Srivastava but Anjali hoped Abhay would be the life partner she wanted. She wanted time to get to know him better. On their way home, she begged and pleaded with her father but was given two days to make up her mind. “The answer better be yes,” Arjan stated, the first time he’d spoken to his daughter in a rude and condescending manner.

“Get used to it”, Ratna had told her that night while gently massaging oil into her hair. “Women are not allowed to have opinions or wish for things.”

Arnav was the silent onlooker, reading his book and looking at the drama unfolding in their house. He often took walks in the neighbourhood to get away from it all. He hated the way his sister was being treated and yet didn’t believe he had a strong enough reason to object. After all, girls had to marry someday or the other. It was during one of these walks that he accidentally saw his to-be-brother-in-law feverishly making out with a girl. Arnav would have never discovered them if certain noises from the alley hadn’t caught his attention. Abhay looked ashamed but not for long. He held the girl’s hand and dragged her away to a more private place where he could continue what he had just begun.

Arnav stood rooted to the spot for a good ten minutes and then made up his mind. Anjali would not marry this scumbag. When Anjali stared at him flabbergasted, he reasoned. “Babuji loves you Di. Sooner or later, he will forgive you. But if you agree to this marriage, you will be forever stuck in a relationship you don’t want.”

Anjali simply continued to stare and Arnav continued to talk. “He’s just a spoilt brat who doesn’t care for anybody’s feelings except his.”

“This is what you need to do Di,” he said. “You need to run away, NOW!”

Anjali was beginning to hate this conversation more and more by the minute. Not getting married was one thing, but running away?

“Why don’t you tell Babuji what you saw?” she asked her brother.

Arnav looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “You know this is a business deal for him. And he is not going to put your happiness over his partnership. He will expect you to adjust.”

Ratna, who was just passing by overheard the entire conversation between the siblings. She walked into the room and gently stroking Anjali’s hair, told her in no uncertain terms to leave.

“You Babuji and I never had a great marriage”, she said, haltingly packing Anjali’s things into a rucksack. “But what we did have was trust Anjali. In our 21 years of marriage, your Babuji was many things, authoritative, dictatorial, cold but he never cheated on me.”

Anjali sighed, picked up the rucksack and started packing her essentials. Just as she was about to leave, Arnav handed her a wad of cash. This should allow you to reach Nani’s house safely. Once you’re there send me a message and I'll send you more money.”

“Where did you get this?”

“From Babuji’s wallet,” he replied. Even at that age, Arnav scruples were fickle. The end was important and he would use whatever means to achieve it.

****

The conversations with Ratna and Anjali had left Arjan stressed, not letting him sleep. After tossing and turning in his bed for a while, Arjan decided to pace the terrace. Although it wasn’t cold in Mumbai, the night wind had a certain bite to it. Arjan opened his cupboard to get a shawl when his wallet accidentally fell down. When he picked it up, it felt surprisingly light.

“Ratna”, he hollered. But before his wife woke up, his eyes fell on the lone figure walking out of the main gates. The figure had a rucksack on its backpack, its head was covered with a black hoodie. Yet the gait was unmistakable. His daughter was running away at the dead of the night.

His wife, who was just about to doze off, awoke with a start.

It was then that he spotted a figure quietly opening the entry gate and making her way towards the main road.

“Anjali”, shouted Arjan. His roar woke Ratna up.

“What happened?” asked a startled Ratna.

“Anjali..,” said Arjan once more before running towards the road barefoot to stop his daughter.

Ratna followed her husband in her nightdress.

Anjali heard her father’s call and quickened her pace, walking fast, eventually running.

Arjan ran behind her as fast as he could, Ratna following closely behind.

“Stop,” he screamed, but Anjali didn’t heed. She crossed over the road to hail a cab. No one noticed a truck driving over the speed limit heading towards them. Ratna was the first one to notice the truck. It was headed for Anjali. “Anjali”, she screamed. Her daughter quickened her pace. “Anjali, careful”, she screamed once more. Arjan quickened his pace to match that of Anjali’s. “Arjan, stop.”, she screamed. He was right in the way of the truck. He didn’t pay attention. She quickened her pace but reached him at the same time as the truck.

The driver was drunk and didn’t notice the two people who had come in front of it. Arnav, who had seen his mother leave the house and had followed her, saw Ratna walk in front of the truck, in a bid to save Arjan. “Amma”, he screamed, just as the truck hit the two of them and sped on. Anjali, who was just about to get into her cab, stopped.

Arjan and Ratna were declared dead as soon as they were brought to the hospital. Within a span of a few hours, the family had gone from celebrating to mourning. Arnav and Anjali were orphans.