No, these won't go with blue' Khushi mutters discarding the earrings she tried on a moment ago. She proceeds to put on a pair of danglers to go with her blue lace detailed spaghetti top. Perfect' she looks at her refection, satisfied. Welcoming yet unattainable her attire whispers class. Khushi likes to dress her part. She would never overdo anything, keeping everything in proportion. She would spend hours researching on which pair of shoes can be teamed up with the midi skirt that has recently caught her fancy, yet she would always keep her wardrobe minimal. She doesn't stand out in a crowd, but once people look at her they can't help but appreciate her taste. She hadn't always been the impeccably dressed Khushi Gupta. The change had been gradual. Gone are the days when she would throw on her tee over her denim and she would be good to go. Growing up had taken that away from her. No, she doesn't intend to impress others, she just wishes to cover her true self up. And she has learned the better you dress up the less interested people are in what lies underneath that neat exterior. She presents herself as the classy Gupta princess with impossibly high standard only because she wears her attire as her shield. If anyone asks her why she always so conscious about her attire, not a single strand of hair out of place', she wouldn't be able to figure out the answer. When change comes gradually, it is very difficult to dig out the reason behind that change. In a passive revolution' sort of way.
"Khushi?"
"Yes sir?"
"Come to my office after your class is over. I need to speak with you, about your dissertation."
"Sure. I will be there" Khushi answers, apprehensive. She tries to gauge what could be the reason for her thesis guide to call her to his office out of schedule. She hopes it is not another disappointment.
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"Hey Khushi, what's up?"
Khushi looks up from her book to stare into the eyes of Akash Singh Raizada.
"Hey Akash! I am good. How are you doing?"
Khushi is not comfortable with the question of what's up? She never knows what to answer to that. Does what's up cover her answer of how pathetic her situation is right now, how her life is up to going down the path of pointlessness or its scope is limited to just an answer of nothing's up, just fine'.
"Good, good. What are you reading?"
Akash asks taking the seat next to her. He is trying to make small talk and that is one area of conversation Khushi absolutely detests.
"The woodlanders. Hardy." Khushi replies hoping he would take the hint and just leave her alone.
"Another classic. What's wrong?" Akash knows about her obsession with classics and exactly when she reads one.
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. Just felt like reading it" There is no way she is going to cry over her sob story in front of Akash.
"For the 8th time?" Akash's tone clearly telling her he doesn't buy her excuse.
"Yeah" Khushi answers flatly.
"Okay, but whatever it is Khushi, don't let it get to you."
Akash understands her need for privacy. She is not someone who would open up easily. He had felt lucky when she opened up to him. But that is in the past. Now she doesn't want him around. She had told him once that when she opens up to someone purely out of emotional surging, she can't help but shut them out later. "It gets awkward when I am not really ready to share my thoughts with someone but end up doing just that, being high on emotions" She had joked. His former girlfriend of just two weeks, Khushi Gupta finds it awkward to even talk to him now. He gets up with a sigh and leaves without looking back. He will have to let her go.
Khushi buries her face in the book inhaling its smell which reminds her of lost adventures of another world. She knows she had hurt Akash, but she can't overcome her own limitations that hold her back from being the person she wants to become. A person who cares about others' feelings before doing anything impulsively. She takes a deep breath and decides to leave the library and meet the one person she is not ready to face.
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"Finally, the princess decides to ask help from her subjects." His jibe welcomes her as Khushi finds him sipping watery tea, sitting in a secluded corner of their canteen.
"Mr. Debbarma asked me to meet you" She ignores his taunt and gets to the point.
"Unfortunately I could not convince him otherwise" Arnav provides, detest dripping from his tone.
"I don't want your help either. Someone like you can only throw cutting words at people; you are not capable of helping anyone. I am here only for sir. He thinks you can help me because my thesis is..."
"I very well know what sir thinks of your academic expertise. Not good enough, neither your thesis, nor your proposal. I don't know how anyone with your brain even passes the entrance test for post grad. Oh I forgot, obviously Gupta princess has a father who is more than capable of getting her into any university, moneywise."
Khushi could feel tears pricking her eyes. She blinks rapidly to stop her eyes from watering. Arnav's words felt like a slap. She knows she is not good enough. But she had tried hard to make her thesis a substantive one. She had gone without sleep for days before submitting her research proposal. Completed her field work in a difficult site with no electricity and no proper sanitation facilities without complain. All because she wanted to be good enough for once in her life. But no matter how hard she tries whatever she does is never good enough. She will never good enough. Her thesis is not up to the mark, she should ask Arnav Singh Raizada for help. He has already done his research on the same topic. She will get some insights. She is miserably lacking in that aspect. Her thesis advisor has told her. Khushi bites her lips, trying not to weep in front of Arnav. She knows she won't be able to hold her tears for long. A sob already rising from her throat. And Arnav is the last person she wanted to share her vulnerability with.
"You need to look at the research objectively, Khushi. You are trying to find your own answers in the field, not trying to find the answers your thesis demands. Your research questions, I mean." Arnav's husky voice, now calm and almost soothing, puzzles her. She forgets momentarily of the ache in her chest.
"You read my thesis?"
"Yes. Sir forwarded me a copy. I read your lit. review. Even the text that you are reading for your thesis, you are interpretation of it is majorly influenced by your own opinion and that takes it farther away from the topic of your research. Your findings seem value loaded. You need to focus on keeping your own questions away from your research questions."
"Aren't you guilty of the same thing Arnav? Aren't you trying to find your own answers by doing this subject? Your research, your reading everything boils down to the same thing that you are accusing me of."
"Yes. I am trying to find my own answers. You see, my mother was burned alive in front of me by a group of social vigilante. To save the society, to preserve culture. So, you can imagine I will definitely have some questions for such society. But Khushi Malik Gupta, I know not to cross the fine line between assessing my field site objectively and letting my own prejudices do the assessing. Your thesis would have been brilliant if you could look outside of your self-obsessed being. But you victimise yourself and that along with your cowardice wouldn't allow it." His voice was calm despite the cutting words it uttered. But she could see the storm in his eyes. He had been civil to her a moment ago. Now he is set out to show her what he thinks of her. She shouldn't have talked about his personal choices, especially when she knows enough about it already.
"Will you help me with the thesis? To keep it value neutral, Away from my own prejudices?" Her voice sounds alien to her own ears. She should have been offended. Given him as good as she got. But she couldn't bring herself to fling careless words at him when she knows he is way past the sting mere words can inflict.
"You want my help? Why?" Arnav asks, incredulous and sarcastic at the same time.
"Because you know exactly what is wrong with my thesis."
"You do not survive an afternoon of conversation with me without bursting into tears. How would you survive such afternoons every day?"
" Oh, don't worry about me. Worry about your rough and tough, very masculine image. I already know you are actually a coconut guy. Mushy under all that hard stuff. Start working on getting your masculinity back." Khushi says, mocking him, but her eyes smiling.
And she is surprised when the same soft glow illuminates his eyes. Trace of a smile beginning to appear on his lips.
"Alright Gupta, it's a deal. Let's see who goes home crying mommy. Tomorrow, sharp 4:30 in the afternoon, lake side. And yeah, bring your collected data along." With that Arnav Singh Raizada slings his guitar across his soldier and walks away leaving a smiling Khushi behind.
Let it begin.
Next:
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Hola!! Just wanted to clarify that the os' in this series ARE RELATED to each other but you can read them individually also. If you wish to continue reading the coming os' then I suggest you read it chronologically. And if you want pms, please let me know. And your comments mean a lot. I will try replying to each one. Happy Sunday ahead.
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