JALEBI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 037)
NATURE HAS GIVEN KHUSHI SO MUCH that those who admire her---as we do---cannot help but wonder about her parents. At least one of them must have been arrestingly beautiful, for Khushi's beauty was never at a loss. It was innate. The man fortunate enough to someday share life with her would discover that this Lioness from Lucknow was ravishing even when she tumbled out of bed with eyes blurry from sleep and mane tousled by his hands.
Of course, I don't dismiss what gifts came to her via Amma and Bawji, her adoptive parents. Surely to them we must attribute her incredible generosity of spirit. For Payal too possessed that same quality. It was something beyond magnanimity. These two sisters had touches of the angel in them. Even as they reeled from the loss of their haveli, which meant so much in terms of matter and memory, I think we all know that abandoning their aunt was never a serious consideration.
But Buaji had accepted her deserved fate.
Without drawing the girls' attention, early that evening she went into the bathroom and ingested random content from the medicine cabinet. Enough to fell any woman of her age. But she being of such a size---a fortress really---the drugs only made her ill. And not ill enough to require an ambulance, but enough to warrant a visit to the hospital.
The ASRGroup driver was still parked outside the house. So off they went. All the neighbours and half the patrons of Humpty's Chai Palace looking on with Janakpurian curiosity.
And while Buaji waited behind blue curtains for the doctor to come and examine her, Khushi and Payal scolded her severely. She listened to them and then made her case. Her reasoning was surprisingly unselfish. She had not done this for sympathy. She had come to the conclusion that if she removed herself from the scene, they would be better able to fight Shyam. As she accurately put it, "Nandekishore knows, as long as that Snake can threaten to expose me, your hands will remain tied. But if I am not here then you are free to go after him with everything---"
"---Be assured we will go after him," Khushi interrupted her, "but it will be done in such a way that you are safe. If the house and the haveli are gone forever, it matters not. But you, Buaji, must always remain with us."
Khushi's words humbled Buaji. And I and Nandekishore hope that the old woman reflected on her past unjust conduct with shame. Today her Payaliya---the one whom she had always favoured---had momentarily turned on her, but Khushi had never wavered in her support.
Not even for a moment.
It was not until they were waiting in the hospital corridor (while the doctor was attending to Buaji) that Khushi found an opportunity to tell Payal of the missing memory stick. And when that disappointment was absorbed, she told her of Pari's discovery. Of Shyam's true identity. Of his being a CBI officer. Shyam Wardhan. Or whatever he was calling himself this week.
Payal attempted to show courage, but Khushi saw that her sister was terrified by what she heard. Her next words proved it.
"When Shyam returns tonight," said Payal, "he should find the house empty. We'll take what we can carry and go. We'll begin a new life elsewhere. With new identities."
"Run away? Absolutely not! Have you forgotten that we are Lucknowian?"
Payal begged for understanding. "You call it running away. I call it self-preservation, Khushi. There is no telling what he will do. What powers he has! What other things he..."
And here Payal launched into all the possible scenarios. Each more dire than the previous. Her fear gave Shyam more powers than the Prime Minister. Khushi listened for a moment, and then disappeared into a beautiful fantasy.
"...Why are you smiling?" Payal demanded, interrupting herself.
Indeed, Khushi was smiling.
It was that small smile, Sisters, when an idea begins to dawn in your imagination. And as the idea grows in viability, the smile widens. The eyes glow with new illumination.
"It could work. Why not?" Khushi whispered, still lost in her own fantasy.
"Khushi?" Payal gripped her arm. We can be assured that she had witnessed Khushi give birth to countless schemes over the years. Payal recognized this smile, and with it, the first spark of hope was born in her heart. "You have a plan, don't you? Khushi!"
Khushi was fully conscious now. And the smile had not disappeared, which meant that the idea was a very good one.
She turned to Payal and said, "Why did we not question whether Shyam was a vakil?"
Payal shrugged. "Because he told us he was."
"No! Not only because he said it, but because he behaved as one. Every morning he went away with that briefcase. Periodically he mentioned the courthouse. This file. That case. Those big words---what was that funny one that Buaji couldn't pronounce?"
"Subpoena," Payal supplied the word impatiently.
"Subpoena," Khushi repeated with disgust, as though the word was Shyam himself. Getting back to her narration, "If he had told us he was a pilot and he appeared in a uniform now and then, we would have believed that too. Don't you see? Everything is about perception; I learnt that this morning. Painfully. Now it is my turn to shape his perceptions. Oh, I'll play this new role so convincingly, Jiji, that they'll have to give me a Filmfare award." The hope that this nightmare could possibly end soon made her prematurely giddy. "I'll be on the cover of their magazine!" Khushi struck a very glamorous film-star pose. Pouty mouth. Smouldering eyes. Hair toss.
And even though Payal had yet to understand Khushi's idea, her younger sister's antics made her giggle.
"Why all this merriment? Has Buaji died?"
The voice came from behind them. It was Buaji's fosterling: Shyam.
Payal immediately rose to confront him. Having even more reason to loathe him now, her eyes flashed with anger.
But Khushi?---she appeared almost indifferent. She remained seated, looked at him briefly, and then dismissed him by turning her attention to an open newspaper that lay discarded on the seat next to her. Much like she had been treated by the jeweller this morning.
Shyam's expression registered some surprise at Khushi's behaviour.
"Why are you here?" demanded Payal.
"The neighbours said Buaji was taken to the hospital," he replied. "As a damad, I was naturally worried."
Here Khushi did turn to him and gave a caustic scoff, "you are dreaming."
"You are my dream, Khushiji," he simpered.
Payal began to correct his insinuating manner, when Khushi interjected, "don't waste your breath, Jiji. Arnavji will deal with him."
I cannot tell you who was more shocked to hear these words. Shyam? Or Payal? Payal recovered first because she had the significant advantage of knowing that Khushi had hatched a plan.
Shyam took much longer in his recovery. And even then it was incomplete.
"Arnavji?" He attempted a laugh. But it came out clumsy and choked. "So you and Raizada are friends now?"
Khushi came to her feet. She appeared to have grown two feet taller, just by the tilt of her chin. Extending her left hand towards Shyam, she waited until his eyes dropped to her ring finger, and then she said, "a bit more than friends."
I didn't quite catch Shyam's full reaction to Khushi's statement because in that very moment, Payal gasped, "Mr Raizada?!"
Of course, Khushi had anticipated that Payal would not be able to contain her surprise---but she caught a particular note in her sister's voice which was beyond appropriate astonishment. Her eyes left Shyam and moved to Payal to hint to her that she must play along.
But Payal's attention was not on her.
Her gaze was fixed not on her, nor on the ring---but behind Khushi. And in that instant, Khushi knew. As she always knew. When Arnav Singh Raizada entered her space.
She turned around.
Yes, Sisters, Mr Raizada was walking towards them.
By Jalebi Jane
Hindi TV Shows
198