1 | ArHi FF Resistance | COMPLETE - Page 20

She glanced at the clock nervously.

4:43 PM

She shot a quick look at Anjali, who swallowed thickly as she poured the milk into the boiling water.

Sakshi Ma was talking about something, but she couldn't pay attention to the words. She nodded at what seemed like appropriate moments, watching the now still milk apprehensively. She felt guilty that she couldn't tell Sakshi Ma where they were going, instead telling a half truth about attending 'classes'.

If she knew, she would never let them go. Sakshi believed strongly that it was nothing but trouble, and no place for two, young women to be.

17 minutes.

"Khushi bitiya, kahan kho gayi ho? Are you even listening, sanki?"

She blushed deeply as Sakshi grabbed her ear playfully, looking at her fondly. She swallowed the guilt, forcing an apologetic smile onto her face.

"Sorry Aunty, I was-"

"How many times have I told you not to call me Aunty? It makes me feel old. You were daydreaming as usual, I know."

Sakshi smiled softly, before becoming serious.

"I was just saying that the son of the Kumars- you know him, Nikhil- has... approached us with a proposal. For you, bitiya."

Khushi froze, and she could feel Anjali stiffen beside her.

NK... had proposed?

But he was a...

She studied Sakshi carefully, looking for signs of disapproval.

But she could only find an expectant, slightly nervous tinge in her warm eyes.

Sakshi must not know, Khushi concluded. She leaned into Sakshi's touch as she cupped her face, looking into her eyes.

"He has... even said he would let you study, bitiya. That is something you wanted, no?"

She hated to diminish the hopefulness in the eyes of the woman she had come to regard as her mother.

"Haan, Sakshi Ma... but..."

Sensing her hesitancy, Sakshi nodded understandingly, taking the strained cups of chai from Anjali's hands and putting it in Khushi's.

"Take your time deciding, beta. It is your whole life ahead of you, and while it may be an untraditional view... we want you to have a say, just as Anju would."

Khushi gave her a grateful smile, her grip tightening on the precariously placed cups.

"They must be waiting."

She carefully took the cups of chai out into the living room, placing one gently in the slightly trembling hands of Ashok Raizada. He placed a tender hand over her head, whispering a blessing as she moved away.

She could feel his gaze on her, burning her through the fabric of her sari. She felt the urge to pull it tighter as his eyes swept over her, becoming murky with an emotion she couldn't place.

Their eyes met as she leaned over to hand him the cup, and she was rooted to the spot as they stared at each other. She could hear the blood rushing in her brain, and she took in a deep breath, forcing herself to focus.

She attempted to hand him the cup as quickly as possible so she could run, practically thrusting the hot liquid into his hands.

Her eyes widened as his fingers held hers to the cup, brushing sensually over the tips. Her fingers felt leaden as he purposefully grazed them, not breaking her gaze as he lifted the cup to his lips.

She snatched her hands away as if she had been burned, swiftly whirling away.

What was happening to her?

He lifted the cup of chai to his lips, wincing as he swallowed. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, relishing the way she shivered underneath his searing gaze.

He could see the flush dip into the gentle curve of her blouse, and he felt the blistering urge to rip the blouse off and see how far the flush spread.

"Chote? Chai theekh hai?"

He heard a faint, relieved sigh as he dragged his eyes away from her, turning towards his mother. Seeing his mother's worried expression, Arnav quickly pasted a smile on his face, nodding appreciatively.

He had grown out of the taste of the Desi chai, with its rich milk, overpowering adhrak, and cardamom. He preferred the subtle English teas, or the bitterness of the black coffee.

This... was an abomination. An insult to the tea farmers who carefully cultivated a leaf with textures and unique flavors, only to have it be marred by spices and milk.

He drained the chai in one gulp, failing to notice the heaping plate of biscuits resting untouched next to him.

He met his mother's eyes, and she gave him a tentative, forced smile.

"Beta, you didn't take biscuits? We bought the angrezi wala for you."

Her voice was unquestionably polite. Almost as if she was talking to a guest. Her voice was guarded, like she didn't know how to talk to him.

He felt a piercing stab of uncertainty as an awkward silence descended upon the family, everyone staring uncomfortably at the ground in front of them. The familiarity that had once been there was gone, replaced by a distance that seemed to be growing greater by the second.

"Bhai, how was England? You have their accent now!"

Anju broke the silence, a giggle escaping her lips. He relaxed slightly, grateful for her attempt at regaining lost ground.

England was a topic he was comfortable with, and he suddenly felt a crushing need to go back.

"Wonderful, Anju. It's so much cleaner there, so much more well organized. There's none of this corruption, and everyone follows the rules. Everyone is so respectful, elegant, and well spoken."

"Of course they are. They're using our resources to build their country."

She had spoken again, and he turned to see that her hazel eyes were cold and angry.

"Even if India had control of it's own resources, there's no way we have the infrastructure to handle it the way England does. There's too much bureaucracy and corruption to get anything done in this damned place."

He didn't quite know why he was baiting her. He knew they held very different views, but he couldn't resist goading her into arguing with him. He felt a strange sense of satisfaction when he saw her slim figure stiffen with rage, her eyes fiery as her face flushed with unrestrained anger.

"India is perfectly capable of building a system just as good, if not better than the British. I think you forget that we've been a civilization much longer than these angrezis, and until they showed up, we were ruling ourselves well."

He simply raised an eyebrow, looking at her with barely concealed amusement. He found her unrelenting faith in this dysfunctional colony hilarious.

"Really? Because until the British came, India was ruled by a bunch of kings who couldn't stop fighting. The British united them. India didn't have a halfway decent transportation system until the British came, it's now the fourth largest in the world. They've come up with a fantastic system of education that's united this mish mash of languages. English is standard, and it's good that there's finally one language everyone can communicate-"

"Haan, haan, bade aaye Laad Governorji. India has such a rich history. We've ruled ourselves for thousands of years successfully. Yes, we have a lot of languages- but each language reflects the personality, the culture of the people that speak it. India is beautiful because of its diversity. Do you even know of our- no, your culture, Arnavji?"

She scoffed, her eyes holding disdain and resentment.

"Five years abroad, and you forget your roots? Don't forget, you too are Indian."

He stood up, his body shaking with rage as she reminded him of the one fact he had tried to forget. He had worked hard to become a part of English society, and he would be damned if some woman had the audacity to tell him that he was as uncultured as she was.

"I respect class and real culture. Not this random culture' you claim to have, with your street peddlers selling fake Persian rugs and rip off-"

"Khushi, Anjali, isn't it time for your class?"

His father's soft voice cut into the conversation, effectively silencing the two feuding parties.

Khushi nodded, murmuring a soft apology as she and Anjali began to pick up the cups.

She came over to him, her eyes downcast as she silently reached out to take it from his hands. He could see that she was still furious, her red cheeks betraying the anger that remained.

He held out the cup, and her hands closed around it, encountering his fingers once again.

Gasping, she lifted her eyes to his. He could feel her fingers straining beneath his as he refused to let go of the cup.

She gritted her teeth, not wanting to make yet another scene with this man.

"Arnavji, if you would please give me the cup so I can keep it in the kitchen for washing..."

He leaned in slightly, dropping his voice so that only she could hear what he said

"This isn't over, Miss Gupta. You're going to have to accept that I'm right."

His fingers loosened around the cup, and she snatched it from his hands, tossing him a dirty look as she disappeared into the kitchen.

A small smirk curved his lips as he watched her leave, his eyes not leaving her for a second.

"You must excuse Khushi, Arnav. She is rather fiery, and tends to let her heart rule her head."

"Papa, please don't be so formal with me."

His father smiled tiredly, an incomprehensible sadness in his eyes.

"When people are absent for a long time, it takes time to make up that absence, Arnav. You must be patient with us."

His mother walked in, her elegantly draped sari swishing softly as she silently handed her husband the pills and a shiny, silver tumbler filled with water.

"Ashokji, may I... say something?"

He nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"No man wants a woman who is more independent than he is. We... must teach Khushi to behave as a woman. She is far too opinionated."

His mother's voice was soft, barely audible as she handed her husband his medicines.

Ashok Raizada downed the pills, staring thoughtfully into the distance.

"Nahi, Sakshi. Shashi would have wanted her to form her opinions, have her own ideas. Just as I want Anjali to be her own person. They should be able to stand on their own two feet, in case..."

"Aisa mat kahiye. You don't understand. Our society will never accept such headstrong girls- they must learn to blend in, to be demure, or they will suffer."

"Sakshi, I refuse to make my daughters dependent on someone else. The world is changing quickly, and I do not want them to struggle later on. "

He paused, his eyes speculative as he stared out the window.

"Nahi, Sakshi. They will grow up as independent, strong women."

*********

"I am tired of this nonviolence act. It is going nowhere. The British are still treating us just as badly as before. It's time we take action."

Khushi silently observed as a heated debate began on the floor, the room split into two over how to best achieve independence.

They had tried nonviolent resistance, as Gandhiji had mentioned- but because there simply weren't enough people, their efforts had failed.

Khushi glanced at Anjali, who was also listening closely. She watched as her friend's eyes drifted towards one of the men in the center, arguing determinedly for a path of nonviolence.

Aman Mathur, one of the most levelheaded, sensible people she knew. He was older than them, and unarguably one of their strongest leaders.

He was charismatic and easy going, a strong advocate for nonviolent resistance. His dark hair, passionate nature, and well toned figure had many girls swooning for him.

But Khushi knew he only had eyes for her friend, who was just as infatuated with him.

She rolled her eyes at their obliviousness. Neither of them realized that the other reciprocated, and resorted to staring longingly when the other wasn't looking.

She shook her head, refocusing on the argument. Her eyes focused on the other man, who was furiously advocating for the use of more force.

"We've tried this ahimsa, satyagraha thing, and it simply hasn't worked! We need to get their attention, and nonviolence doesn't do that! They didn't hesitate to use force 20 years in Jalianwala- why are we hesitating to do the same to them now? They're using our men in their damned war, killing Indians. Why should we tolerate this?"

Nikhil Kumar, a fiery, intense man who was by far the most passionate about the cause. His father was a wealthy landowner, and was fiercely loyal to the British.

But Nikhil, or NK, as he liked to be called, had developed strong rebellious tendencies in college. He believed in the resistance, and hated the British as much as his father loved them.

He had long been advocating for a change in tactics, frustrated by the lack of success with the nonviolent protests.

Until now, Aman had held him off, easily shooting down his arguments with sensible claims of his own.

But as the British seemed more and more likely to stay, it was becoming harder and harder to justify that nonviolence was actually working.

Khushi regarded him carefully, looking at him in a new light.

She couldn't turn down Sakshi Ma's quiet plea to seriously consider the proposal he had brought for her. He could have easily chosen Anju, who had a name and a fortune.

But he had picked her, the orphan who the Raizadas cared for as their own.

She was flattered, of course. She had known for a while that NK was fond of her, but had never really given it much thought, thinking he wasn't serious.

But now...

She didn't like the way he liked to dominate over everything, and disliked his attitude towards nonviolence.

She believed they needed nonviolence to succeed. If they too stooped as low as the British... there was no point in their fight.

She had to consider his proposal of marriage, at least for the sake of the woman who had become her second mother.

Even if she disagreed with his views on the fight for independence.

"NK, may I suggest something?"

He turned towards her, his features softening as he heard Khushi's voice. Feeling uncomfortable under his obviously affectionate gaze, Khushi turned away slightly, playing with the edges of her bag.

"I think... I think we should give nonviolence one more chance. Gandhiji has asked us to bind together and... I think we should try. One more time."

NK didn't say anything, his intense eyes focused on her as he considered her statement.

"It hasn't worked. They've been here for 200 years. It's time to make them go- force or not."

"What's the point of our fight if we stoop as low as them?"

"They've killed us, they've taken over our country, and you're talking about mercy?"

"It shouldn't be about revenge. It should be about freedom."

Khushi silently sent a prayer to Devi Maiyya, hoping NK would agree to her words.

She sighed with relief when his shoulder slumped and he nodded, agreeing to give this one more chance.

"But if this doesn't work... I'm turning to force. I can't take this any longer."

The meeting disbanded on those ominous words, and Khushi gestured for Anju to go along. She smiled when Aman approached her, knowing she was in good hands.

She walked over to NK, silently asking him to walk with her. A delighted grin broke his face, and he fell into step with her as they walked back to Shantivan.

"Thank you, for listening to me."

He smiled slightly, shaking his head.

"No, you made sense. I... I don't want to resort to violence, but at this point, I'm frustrated."

"I understand that. But I think we should give it more time."

They fell silent, continuing to walk. He suddenly stopped, turning to her with a hopeful expression.

"Did... Sakshi Aunty...?"

Khushi's heart tightened, a heavy weight settling in her stomach.

She didn't want to confront this. Not now, when she was so uncertain.

"Yes. I... I will be honest. I am not sure, but... if you give me time..."

He took her hands in his, disregarding the fact that they were in public.

"NK, anyone could-"

"Shh. We're on Raizada's gardens, it's highly unlikely anyone would see us. I- I love you, Khushi. I like your spunk, your enthusiasm... I'm willing to give you time to think. But I hope you say yes."

She smiled uncomfortably, but didn't pull away her hands.

She couldn't break the hopeful expression in his eyes.

"I... I will think about it."

He squeezed her hands gently, before releasing them and walking her back. Stopping at the far edge of the house, he smiled brightly, wishing her goodbye.

Neither of them noticed the pair of dark, caramel eyes watching them carefully from above.

*********

Note: And that's where I'll leave you for today! I hope you enjoyed it, and Happy Halloween!

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The next chapter will be up next Friday, and I'll post the teaser Tuesday or Wednesday.

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Thank you so much for reading!

Love always,

Choti.