Forgive me for this update, I sat staring at this particular word document, wondering what really to do, contemplating whether to just strike it off and post the next chapter instead. Anyway, it's merely a filler and a small background for one character. Maybe not entirely a waste.
A week of peace...almost - Chapter 31
"You numbskull dunderheaded clod, where will you fry the kachories and samosas, on top of your waste space head? Haye re Nandkissore... which was that dreadful moment you thought of sending this bundle of foolhardy upon dear miserable earth?" rang Madhumati's hysteric siren, cutting across the hubbub of Lakshmi Nagar's street market. A strolling hawker too paused for a moment at the wide open front door of Chandan kothi, shaken by the sheer amplitude of the drum like old woman's appalled screech. He cleared his throat, shook his head wondered how even after spending the last four decades of his life, stretching his vocal chords, crying the price of the potatoes over his cart he could not imagine matching what the grumpy lady's larynx had just accomplished.
Khushi and Payal slowly pulled fingers out of their ears and found their aunt still glaring at the younger of the two.
"Sanakadevi, do you realize we cannot grow a snack shop in your long braid? We need space, we need gas, we need a huge stove, we need lots of oil to fry, lots of sugar for the sweets to soak, lots of milk to make mawa, lots of ... arre nandkissore I'll have to put all my life's savings to sustain the expenses. Money doesn't grow over the Babool trees of Lakshmi Nagar."
Khushi sighed her gaze fixed at the floor, she had thought about this but if only she could get the shop started, they would soon have enough money to pay back and sustain.
"And why do you think people will come to our shop and not go to another nearly twenty sweetmeat shops in the locality?" she continued.
"Because we will make the best." she answered cheerfully.
"Hah, we will make the best." Madhumati taunted in mock squeaky ton. She turned her face away, muttering another series of nandkissores and scratched her chin as if in deep thought. "By the way, how does Madhumati Mishthan Bhandaar sound to you girls?"
Two shocked faces gaped. Silence. The next moment both the girls launched themselves towards their aunt hugging her tightly, "Madhumati Mishthan Bhandaar simply rocks!!" cried Khushi. Madhumati gazed upon the ceiling with pride, "Aww, that was a joke. Let this be named after the one who drops these crazy ideas into your head."
"Who?"
"Jai Devi Maiyya Mishthan bhandaar."
****
Five months ago
There is a reason why they say actresses shouldn't walk around without make up, they look downright ugly, especially if they are sloshed. Lavanya Kashyap smirked at the sight she beheld, Aliya Kapoor stumbled in a daze in her direction. Her eyes were spitting venom, it gave a certain high to Lavanya, she smiled sweetly in return. This angered the distressed damsel further, "You f**king bitch" she cried.
"The reporters are down there Aliya, I am sure you wouldn't want to be seen on page 3 in your present state." she said calmly.
Aliya struggled with her balance over her red stilettos, "I pity you Lavanya Kashyap." she sounded vicious.
"Really? Look who speaks."
Aliya chuckled mirthlessly, "Don't be delusional Kashyap, Arnav Singh Raizada sees you merely as an amusement. Once he's done with you, he'd toss you away like a used tissue..."
"I. Did. Not ask for your wisdom. Get over with it. Blame anyone you like or go drown yourself in self pity but do not create a scene here." Lavanya spat back.
"You'd be sorry one day Kashyap, that man is, hic... incapable of love." - That should have definitely been a drunken balderdash.
Lavanya sniggered, as if she was capable she wondered. Perhaps she had been wrong about herself.
Present day
Lavanya Kashyap dreamily walked over to the large mirror in front of her bed. Was it vanity she took pride in? Her reflection in the mirror was one thing that had always pleased her... even at the worst times in her life for the record, there she could stand for long hours gazing at the lovely woman who stared back at her, smiling, reminding her of what she stood for, what she had achieved and what she had lost.
She stilled at the thought of loss, its momentary misery fading behind a blissful dimpled smile as she recalled the last conversation she had had with ASR. His intentions were slowly dawning for he had always been so reluctant in all his previous relationships, reluctance that bordered on clear disinterest on his part.
He had called her on phone giving crisp instructions regarding an upcoming event, all business like, and then as matter-of-factly as if adding a concluding note had dropped the bomb, "Lavanya, we should move in." Kashyap was stumped. No wonder she had been dying to hear the same but the suddenness and the sheer nonchalance of his tone flustered her. She recalled how in the past month she had often expressed her desire but her plea was rejected as if ASR's ears voluntarily turned deaf at the notion of a serious relationship. The man's unpredictability was scary at times.
Graduated from Yale University, Lavanya Kashyap held herself in highest esteem just like her mother who was also nicknamed as the female corporate don in Chicago. Her qualification was definitely to her credit but she was snobbish and famous for being a tantrum queen. She had made and dumped seventeen boyfriends in last ten years, rolled her eyes at her father's back-to-back failures, cocked her brows at her mother's ever successful ventures, spent her lonely teenage partying, attended university, worked in her mother's firm for two months, modeled for a magazine, took up designing, worked as Lucas Mazzini's - the renowned Italian designer's assistant for a year and a half, took up event management, handled several other fashion related events over years and landed at AR but that was... a different story all together. Sometimes Kashyap found her own demeanor in presence of Arnav Singh Raizada hard to believe. She still couldn't guess how easily and swiftly he had tamed the wild vindictive cat that she was into a klutzy kitten craving his affection.
She had first met him during the Milan fashion week two years ago. It was a fleeting acquaintance, a formal introduction that was to be forgotten once the greetings were over, the only hitch was she hadn't forgotten. Nor had she forgotten her instant dislike for the blond Russian whose arm was linked in his.
Only five months ago she had flown down to Goa for a vacation with friends, the sea was particularly wild that fateful day and when she became aware that the location had been chosen for AR's winter couture, she had stayed back to witness. She was smitten with his ways, he went about with his business with lan and a certain charm and she liked it. As luck would have it, two days before the main stage event, the operation's head developed a severe sea allergy. Lavanya Kashyap saw this as an opportunity and offered assistance. The resource manager was a difficult man, he refused but Ms Kashyap wouldn't step down.
She caught the notice of a very amiable young man by the name of Akash Singh Raizada who fixed her appointment with his cousin and boss. If ASR had recognized her from their brief interaction at Milan he did not show any sign of it. But going by her record he agreed. They worked together day and night for two days, she matched his zeal and the end product was lauded. Ms Kashyap's efforts were highly appreciated and she was offered a permanent place in AR which she readily accepted much to the displeasure of a certain Ms Kapoor- an actress who was also Arnav's supposed girlfriend and the supposed show stopper for the evening.
As if ASR achieved a sadistic pleasure in causing misery to Aliya Kapoor, she was conveniently asked to step out since former model Lavanya Kashyap was better suited for the role. Aliya also realized that moment, perhaps it was the last ASR wished to see of her. She had been royally pissed that evening and had vented out at Lavanya, but frankly Kashyap had rather enjoyed her outburst.
But today all of it befuddled her, the words "that man is incapable of love" made her insecure deep down, somehow. The doorbell broke her reverie. She promptly answered the door ecstatic to find the one she expected. "I can't tell you how exuberant I am today, still can't believe we are happening for real." she chirped.
As expected Arnav did not reciprocate her enthusiasm. "I have to tell you..."
"I know." her smile faded, "You'd say your grand mom isn't pleased and doesn't approve of us living together."
"Did I say that?"
"No?"
He shook his head.
"ASR, at times I don't understand you at all. You don't say much, far less than what I feel is necessary." she paused, "Do you really love me?"
"If I didn't, I wouldn't be here." More than his reply it was the promptness with which it came that relieved her. She flung her arms around him, "Oh god, I am so happy."
" Lavanya I needed to tell you that my..." before he could complete his sentence she drew back and turned around to fetch her suitcase.
He grabbed her arm and turned her around harshly, "YOU DO NOT turn your back at me when I talk. Can't you understand that?" he yelled.
She shook slightly with fright, she had never anticipated such an outburst from him for apparently no reason. "I was just..."
He let go off her arm, shocked at his own (mis)behavior. Her action was innocent though, on spur of the moment, to ASR it appeared so contrived, a deliberate attempt to defy his authority, firmly believing in which was a matter of survival for him. He no longer recognized the woman who had just turned her back at him, instead all recent incidents of defiance and nonconformity thrown his way by a 'village belle' came screaming back at him and he had lost control. For the first time in years Arnav Singh Raizada realized he was in a deeper mess than he chose to reckon.
"I am sorry, you were saying something ASR, what was it?" she asked softly.
He looked at her, his gaze softening a bit, he too should have apologized for the unwarranted incivility, "Nothing, I just left my car outside the park, we should make it quick." But apology had never struck him as a necessity. Sorry was after all such an overrated word.
****
For Gupta family, the saying "Where there is will there is way" seemed to be hailing as factuality. The biggest yardstick of cheap space for opening the shop was solved in a matter of minutes. The ever helpful neighborhood in form of the mechanics of Bedi's garage was always happy to help. The garage wasn't prospering anyway, they had larger space than required and they offered it to the women in need for free. Not only that but the mechanics even offered their services at the stove, stirring mixtures, balling laddoos, etc.
But operation wasn't as smooth as the beginnings, customers were rare and as per Khushi Kumari Gupta 40% of the poor souls who came were scared away by Madhumati's boisterous marketing tactics. Her bulging eyes and compulsive invitation that bordered on stalking of the potential customer, on one such occasion Madhumati even ran about fifty yards chasing a man who sped away on his scooter scared out of his wits wondering whether the woman practiced witchcraft.
For next couple of hours the girls had threatened to tie their aunt to a chair. By the end of day one, profit was measured on the negative scale. Happy Singh shed tears of helplessness. Khushi and Madhumati quarreled over whether to put the left outs of the day on sale the next day. Madhumati argued in favor while Khushi was of the opinion that such unethical tactics would make them loose even the bunch of customers they had in the long run.
While Madhumati grabbed her head and sulked in a corner, Khushi discovered an ancient radio of her late Uncle and tuned it. Later she blared "Samundar mein nahaake aur bhi namkeen ho gayi ho" near her aunt's ears making the old woman unleash a string of expletives along with frequent Nandkissore hissings. Payal covered her ears in the pillow and managed to catch a few hours of sleep before hours of morning ensued another bedlam.
Day 2: It was decided to avoid wastage and loss they would supply as per demand. They purchased lesser milk than the day before and set to task. Payal found in the newspaper that the new Volkswagen showroom at the outskirts of Sarojini Nagar locality had advertised a vacancy for a salesgirl. While Madhumati and Khushi along with several helping hands from Bedi's garage would manage the shop, a little extra income would only aid their cause and hence she decided to try her luck.
The recruiter stared hard at the girl whose wan smile barely concealed her chronic introversion. "And why exactly do you believe that I should grant you this job?" he said impatiently, chewing the third strip of gum since morning alongside the blue cap of the ballpoint pen that hadn't been rescued from the continuous attack of his teeth ever since the pen came in his hands. "I think I fulfill the requirements." Payal said after deliberating in her head for more than fifty seconds.
"You know what the requirements are?" he asked widening his eyes. Payal heard the chuckle of the guy sitting beside him whose face was hidden behind the computer screen. She grimaced realizing that the place was not for the likes of her.
"Look ma'am why don't you seek a job at the Banarasi Saaris across the road." This time the face behind the computer laughed out loud. The two even gave each other a high five.
Without another word Payal turned away to leave wanting to just disappear somewhere. With her eyes fixed onto ground she walked into someone. "Sorry" she muttered not caring to look up.
"Payal?"
She lifted her head with a jerk to find surprise written all over his face. Only that it was the first pleasant expression somebody had greeted her with since morning.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I just...never mind."
"Oh Mr. Raizada what a pleasure to have you here. How can I help you?" the manager offered eagerly leaping up from his chair.
"Well, we were considering to gift some of our employees official vehicles and I personally wanted to survey..." he stopped to see Payal already leaving.
"Oh Sir, Volkswagen it is, the best choice for the purpose I'll just call my best team to give you tour around, we have the latest models and will have as many you require shipped to Delhi from the Pune manufacturing plant. Please wait I'll just call Sharma..."
"NO." Akash interjected, "I want her to show me around." he said pointing towards Payal who was already at the exit.
"But sir she is not our.." the manager tried to explain.
"Not your employee? Well she would have been if the morons sitting in the recruitment counter weren't so hard pressed upon judging her too early. I hate to say it but I am disappointed." Akash was dead serious.
The manager floundered for a moment and then shot towards the recruiters. " What the hell did you say to that girl Sharma, get her back here at this moment." he growled.
"But Sir, I thought."
"It's not your job to think. We cannot afford to disappoint the party" he said pointing at Akash, "Get that girl back."
Sharma realized it had been a colossal misjudgment on his part for when he approached Payal, the scowl that greeted him was enough to blow all air out of him. She agreed after a dozen sorrys. Such attitude, he sighed.
Not many knew, okay it wasn't a closely guarded secret but Payal had never disclosed about her having a major car fetish to anyone apart from Khushi. When girls would paste cuttings of pictures and articles of their favorite film stars in their scrap books, Payal stuck with cars. She'd buy old issues of Auto India using the savings from her pocket money, the hobby often made her wistful for she knew she was never going to own any of those exotic models. It was for this reason when she found about a vacancy in a car showroom she had been thrilled at the prospect of securing the job of saleswoman.
Her enthusiasm as she explained the technicalities of the models that she remembered from her readings was barely concealed and she made no attempt to contain it, it fascinated Akash.
"The best thing Mr. Raizada with Volkswagen is its very stable market. In fact it is projected that by 2018 Volkswagen would be the top-selling automaker, leaving behind its major rivals Toyota and GM. I disagree with the notion of labeling it as a non luxury car manufacturer just because of the name when it gives tough competition to Bentley, Buggati and Audi. And if you are willing to wait for a month, this fall, the new Passat will be launched. This car Mr. Raizada..."
"Akash. Call me Akash." he said huskily.
Payal flushed. What was it with this man, every time in his presence the years of Khushi's company began to take a toll on her. She felt butterflies in her stomach and wanted to grin from ear to ear the way Khushi grinned watching Salman Khan bear his nasty abs. She forced herself back and began raving about Passat, she had a huge crush on that car. No doubt. By the end of it Akash was sure when it would be launched the next year, he'd be among the first buyers.
Akash reminded himself for the fourth time to concentrate on the impending purchase and not make the love-sick-puppy leap out for public display. He recalled how he hated when Arnav teased him calling him a mush-baby. No he wasn't going to prove his brother right.
"Would you mind joining me for coffee?" To hell with what brother says.
"Umm well, I... I am getting late for home." she mumbled.
"Oh well, I understand."
The seven thousand that the job offered was a modicum of a salary but it was better than sitting around with not much of a purpose in the shop. Payal did not know how Sharma had a change of heart or why was the manager so eager to take her. She decided to stop pondering on it and enjoy the ride back home. She had not been so happy in days. The good times would soon begin and Amma Babuji too would join.
The second day at shop did not accompany in its wake any good news for Jai Devi Maiyya Mishthan Bhandar. But Khushi had greatly rejoiced in distributing some sweets for free among the street kids. For the next day they decided to further diminish their capital investment. Payal's little success was a fresh air of sweet fragrance after a morbid day at work.
On day 3 Khushi realized the only thing she had learnt from her new venture was expertise in killing flies. In dearth of customers she decided to kill her time reading the glossy newspapers they had purchased for wrapping. On one such paper she found an article on the oh-so-dreaded Arnav Singh Raizada and his over achievements. She placed it aside. Later that night she snipped away the portion of his picture - the face with a permanent frown in the news article, pasted it on a cardboard, got a knife from the kitchen and stabbed it thirty times. Satisfied she hit the bed, what a sound sleep she won that night!
****
"Isn't it such a fine morning jiji" she cried out loud coming out of the bathroom, patting her hair dry with a pink towel.
"I am not surprised, seems you slept quite well last night." replied a giggling Payal.
"Oh yes, oh yes I did."
"Why are you so obsessed with him Khushi?"said Payal startling her. Her smile fell. She cursed. "What are you talking about?" And then she noticed what Payal had been holding in her hand. Her handiwork from last night.
"Found this under the bed." she said dangling it in front of Khushi's eyes.
"I am NOT obsessed I bloody hate this man."
"Really?"
"Of course. He is responsible for all our troubles."
"Really? Well Khushi the last time I checked, he was not responsible for Bua's pension troubles, he was not responsible for us losing Gomti Sadan, he is not responsible for our soupcon sales."
"On whose side are you?" Khushi asked chilly. "Look no matter what you say, I am not taking back my words. I..."
"Listen Khushi, if I hate someone and just wish him to disappear from my life I try to avoid thinking about that person, I try to ignore. I do not think about him day and night and turn into a complete psycho like you. Just look at this, stabbing a photograph?" she said looking concerned.
Wow, as if she was not already confused.
****
The day Arnav and Lavanya moved in, the dwellers of Raizada Mansion had keenly taken their stands. The matriarch of the family was royally pissed and her daughter in law was loving the drama. At last there was some fun in the monotonous vapidity called life. Prejudices ran high in the blood of the family. The verbal fisticuffs between Arnav and his grandmother never ceased. Devyani Raizada had pledged on devising ways to get rid of the girl and all of Kashyap's attempts to please her were met with abject disapproval. Arnav could neither reason with Devyani's propensity to dismiss Lavanya nor could he fathom what made Lavanya so impelled to please Devyani. Bloody woman psyche, he wouldn't risk understanding.
"I am awestruck by your mother Mahendra, wow she was never this mean to me, imagine, not even me!" Manorma Raizada declared to her husband, one fine day. "With this proficiency, she'd assuredly beat all the prodigal saasu mas of Indian TV."
Mahendra Raizada forced his head to look up from his book. "Well and I would suggest you to stay out of their business." he said quietly.
The week brought a relief upon Shyam Manohar Jha, the plaster on his leg was removed and he felt great to stand on his two legs. Now was the time to execute the second part of his plan that Madhumati had only made easy. She had called him under the impression that he was in Lucknow and had lamented about her poor Shashi Babua, now Shyam would bring the Gupta couple to Delhi, be their support, win their hearts and then... he smiled and felt like giving a pat to himself on his back. For a first time two-timer he was doing a bloody impressive job. In spite of Anjali's many protests, he left for Lucknow on pretext of ground work for a Tehsil case but with a promise that he'd be back before their anniversary which was coming in a few days.
Spending the weekend without her husband, Anjali busied herself rearranging her brother's study. She often joked how Arnav required at least five assistants to keep his things in order. He'd keep things in the most random possible order, misplace a file and make everyone's life miserable till he found it. While she was shuffling through a stack some loose papers fell near her feet, she bent to pick them up when something caught her eye, finding Khushi's name mentioned on what seemed to be a contract piqued her interest. "Oh my god, what kind of job is this?" she exclaimed a little disgusted.
****
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