KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 016)
A WHISPER TICKLED HER CHEEK. "Khushi?"
"Hmmm," she moaned, unwilling to be roused from her delicious sleep. She sank even deeper into the large pillow, snuggling against its warmth.
"Khushi?" the voice came again, a few seconds later. This time more urgent.
"Sone do na..." she mumbled. Irritated at this interruption of her cozy slumber.
"Khushi. Unless you are ready for things to progress, it would be best for you to move to safer distance."
Kya? Yeh avaaz---
Khushi's eyes snapped open.
It still took another moment for the bleary-eyed sleepiness to dissipate---by which time Khushi became aware that she was sleeping on her side, nestled against Arnav, head tucked under his chin, using his chest as a pillow, with her arm flung across his ribcage. The next discovery was even more mortifying: her bent knee rested against his thigh, while her inner thigh slanted across his lower abdomen and hips. His manly heat---including the firm evidence of that very heat---now scorched her thigh!
She gasped.
Drawing in a shaky breath and without adding to the disturbance already caused, she carefully untangled herself from him. She managed to mutter sorry, and turned to face the opposite side, moving dangerously close to the edge of the bed.
There was no more sleep to be had in that bed that night---for neither husband nor wife.
WHEN ARNAV CAME DOWN FOR BREAKFAST, he saw Khushi performing aarti with the family. She had been in the bathroom when he had left for his morning run; nevertheless, he was pleased to see that she had worn the saree he had placed on the bed. That she didn't feel the need to defy his every request was a good sign; she must no longer feel entirely powerless. He grabbed the newspapers and waited for the rest to join him at the dining table. They wandered in, and Khushi and Payal followed with the breakfast dishes. He noted that Khushi did not make eye contact with him.
Nor did she respond to his attempts to meet his eyes while she filled his plate and poured his coffee. Was she embarrassed about last night's near merger and acquisition, he wondered. Or was this something else? With a woman like Khushi it was impossible to decipher. In any case, he wouldn't tolerate her ignoring him no matter what the reason.
She had to be made to understand that.
When everyone had been served, Khushi and Payal sat. Khushi slipped into the vacant chair next to his. With his left hand he immediately grabbed her right hand under the table, placed it on his upper thigh, and held it there. He had her full attention now. She squirmed and pulled as best as she could without arousing suspicion---but without success. He now ignored her. He was able to comfortably eat with his right hand free, but she was not.
Mami pointed out that her green tea had grown cold.
Khushi began to rise. "I'll just---" she said.
"---stay where you are, Khushi," Arnav interrupted, her hand still firmly in his grip. He called out to Hariprakash. He decided to punish her further, and slid her hand farther up his thigh and held it there. She took in a sharp breath. His breath was not quite even either. Their eyes met once more. There was no ignoring what both felt. She was first to break the gaze, and averted her eyes lowering them to her untouched plate.
Arnav cleared his throat, turned to Mami and said, "Khushi and Payal never seem to get through a meal without getting up several times. I don't like it."
Akaash agreed heartily with him.
"But, Bitwa," Mami pointed out, "bahus must serve. This is Raizada House tradition." Mami was a big fan of those traditions which no longer inconvenienced her.
Nani replied, "Manorama, traditions are worth preserving, but once Khushi Bitya and Payal Bitya have served initially, they will sit and enjoy their meal without getting up again. Hariprakash can manage the rest."
"Why aren't you eating, Khushi?" Arnav asked, feigning concern. He freed her hand, and received a venomous glare as a reward. His unusual interest in domestic matters continued. "Maybe we need one more person on staff to help with table service and other duties," he suggested.
Anjali had a thought. "I have someone in mind. I'll look into it. Vaisey, Chotte---can you spare another car and driver from the office? There are five of us at home during the day, and if one of us goes out, then there is no transportation for the others. And by the time we call the office to send a car, an hour has gone by. Khushi took an auto-rickshaw the other day---"
"What?" Arnav turned to his wife. Once again, he grabbed her hand under the table.
Khushi shrugged away the concern. "I am quite accustomed to it."
"Then become unaccustomed," he countered, stressing his point by squeezing her hand. "It's not safe."
After breakfast, he went to fetch his briefcase. He remembered he had not yet spoken to Khushi about the documents. He fished out the envelope from his case, scrawled MRS. ASR on it, left it on her pillow and left for the office.
HE HAD BEEN AT THE MANUFACTURING PLANT all afternoon and was climbing the stairs to his office when a staff member stopped him.
"Sir, Mrs Raizada is waiting for you in your office."
"Which one?" he asked, his eyebrows gathering.
"Your office upstairs," the poor man clarified.
"Dammit!---I know where my office is---I meant, which Mrs Raizada? There are now four Mrs. Raizadas living under my roof."
The assistant was confused. Four wives? He managed to mangle out a reply, "your wife Khushi-ma'am-bhabhi-madam, Sir."
Khushi? Here?
Arnav climbed the stairs two at a time. He entered his office and there was Khushi standing in the middle of the floor, looking especially delectable. But when her eyes met his, he saw tears.
"Khushi---?!" His breath left his body.
Those tears now began to flow unimpeded down her cheeks.
And before he could speak or think, she covered the distance between with a few running steps and launched herself at him. He caught the soft weight of his wife with one arm under her hips and one around her waist.
"What the---!"
Khushi was light, but the energy with which she threw herself at him forced him to widen his step to absorb the impact. Her feet were off the floor and her arms were wrapped around his neck.
"Khushi? Khushi!" he tried to understand what had upset her, but she said nothing, cried softly and would not let go.
There was only one thing to do. He carried her to the desk and sat her down on the edge. He then pried her fingers from around his neck.
She swallowed a full sob and then miraculously---she smiled through her tears.
"What is this---?" he asked, failing to understand how a smile and tears could coexist. Was this another Khushi quirk?---
"I don't---I really don't know what to---" Again more tears.
He gave her a shake by the shoulders to indicate that he was losing his patience with her.
She reached for her pallu to wipe her tears---looked twice at the embroidered silk voile and decided against it. Her eyes lifted to him, and asked with sparkling watery eyes, "aap ka rumaal---?"
With a frustrated groan, Arnav dug into his pockets, found his handkerchief, and began to mop up her face.
As he wiped, she spoke, "I read the papers," she said. "Thank you, thank you---lakh lakh shukriya."
"Ah," he said, understanding dawning.
She continued, "when I first saw the papers---I thought, legal documents! Again!' Aap ko legal documents bohut pasand hai, na?---but when I read what you have done, I had to come and see you."
"You didn't take a rickshaw, did you?"
"What does it matter---?" she cried.
"---Khushi, I'm warning you---no more rickshaws!"
Khushi gave a half-hearted promise, and slid off the desk. She asked, "are you ready to leave the office?"
Arnav felt he should protest---he had meetings---but it was difficult to resist an invitation to spend the rest of the afternoon in Khushi's company. Especially when she must be feeling very generous towards him at this moment, his lustful mind added.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked, picking up his phone and texting Aman to clear his afternoon.
"To Buaji's, of course," she replied, as though any other venue at this moment was not even a remote possibility.
"No, Khushi---you can call and explain later," he said.
"Call? Nahin. I want to tell them with you present," she commandeered his arm and marshalled him out of the office and down the stairs. "I want to tell them that you have bought back Bawji's halwai shop and our house in Lucknow---and that they will both be waiting for them when he has recovered."
Arnav looked down at Khushi's blissful face, and said, "you didn't read the deeds very carefully. The shop and house are in the name of Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada."
She had apparently missed that pertinent detail. Her eyes widened with pleasure. She looked up at him, whispered, "thank you," and impulsively pressed a kiss on his cheek. It was done in full view of his office staff. It occurs to me, Sisters, and must have occurred to Arnav Singh Raizada---that Khushi seemed to only kiss him when there were witnesses present.
Jalebi Jane
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