IPKKND FF: JALEBI by Jalebi Jane Thread 1: EPISODE 001-042 - Page 69

Originally posted by: smithasrk

Wow. The last update was mind blowing.

Pride and prejudice is my favorite. Have seen all the versions.

The proposal scene was brilliant.

Every time I watch it I get goosebumps

I had the same feeling here.

Thank you

Originally posted by: Pari025

Brilliant Maya. Just loved the way she gave it back to him, every bit of which appears true about Arnav as of now. The way she drifted off from the fantasy to consider the possibility of gaining from association with Arnav at this point is very realistic. When we are in deep trouble we will consider all kinds of possibilities to get out of it. Waiting for Arnav's reaction. I just love this story and this pair.

JALEBI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 031)

I WILL NOT ATTEMPT TO CONCEAL what happened immediately after Khushi hung up the phone: She crumpled to the floor and wept. No, not for long. For no true Heroine can be justified in crying over a man for more than half an hour. And certainly not over a tyrant such as Arnav Singh Raizada.

But, in all fairness, Sisters---we know he was not responsible for her collapse.

Yes, it was triggered by his remarks. But the cause of her tears could be traced back to earlier this morning. To that jeweller's allegations.

Nay, we must go even farther back than that!

This meltdown was the natural result of the accumulated stress of everything that had happened since yesterday evening. The dreadful seriousness of it all had hit Khushi now with a fullness that she had not allowed herself to feel in her sister's presence.

In order not to debilitate Payal, Khushi had not stated what her mind knew---that it was quite conceivable that Buaji would receive a jail sentence. And it was most definite that lakhs-upon-lakhs (principle plus interest) would have to be repaid to the Treasury. And as their only remaining asset was the Lucknow haveli, it appeared very likely that their childhood home would have to be sold. That place of her most cherished memories. But they had no choice in the matter.

It was a point of honour, of course. Money taken must be returned. No matter what the lawyer advised Payal. No matter what Pari might discover---

Pari!

Concern for Pari roused her off the floor. She reached for her mobile. There was no message from her since the last. Khushi had extracted a promise from Pari that she would text every fifteen minutes, but at the same time she realized that it might not be convenient for Pari to stop to text with such stopwatch precision while pursuing that Snake. She must maintain faith that all would be well.

And she must do her part.

Brushing away the flecks of tears from her cheeks, Khushi squared her shoulders to the task which had been interrupted by Mr Raizada's untimely call. The first point of attack was the memory stick. For this she required the computer password. She picked up Aman's note and first created a profile for him on her mobile, then entered the phone number he had provided.

She was about to press call' when her mobile rang.

Unidentified Caller.

Mr Raizada. Obviously. Calling to berate her. No doubt.

She let his call ring out. She had many serious issues to deal with. To stand around exchanging insults with that man would be a gross misuse of her time and energy.

But he clearly had nothing better to do today. Because the phone rang once again!

Unidentified Caller.

She shook the phone as though it was a rattle while she again waited for it to ring out. And it did. But within seconds, the desk telephone rang. Its short ring signalled an internal call.

For Devi Maiyya's sake! This man is relentless when it comes to abusing me!

It was apparent to Khushi that Arnav, failing to reach her on her mobile, had immediately rung Reception and asked the call to be transferred upstairs. He knew she would still be at Aman's desk.

Turning her back to the desk, as though she would thus block out the man himself, she completed the call to Aman without further interruption.

It appeared that she had reached him in the middle of a meeting, for he greeted her in a hasty perfunctory manner and furnished her with the password without even waiting for her to request it. Khushi felt she ought to disclose that she had come in late this morning and that she intended to work through her lunch hour to compensate---but before even a quarter of that was said, Aman had ended the call.

It was rather odd behaviour from a man who was always so courteous. Perhaps Big Boss' manners were infecting him. Perhaps Mr Behl ought to spend less time with Mr Raizada after hours. But Khushi was not given time to ponder further because just then her colleague---the girl who had earlier passed on Aman's message---flew into the office.

"Khushi! Why do you not pick up the phone?" she cried.

"Did he make you come upstairs to force me to take his call?" Khushi demanded. Unbelievable!

"He? He who?"

"Mr Raizada?"

"No," the girl, replied. "That's Pari on the line."

Pari!

"She called Reception. She said you weren't picking up your mobile---"

Hai Devi Maiyya!

Khushi immediately tried to call Pari's mobile but the girl pushed her towards the door. "Hurry! She's on hold at Reception. Line five. She said it's urgent."

Taking the stairs two at a time, Khushi galloped to the main floor, her mojris sliding to a halt at Reception. She reached over the barrier to grab the handset and pressed the flashing button.
"Pari!? Pari, where are you? What's happened?!"

"He's on the move," Pari replied, almost screaming above the sounds of traffic. "He's in a rickshaw and my rickshaw's following his. I've just borrowed the driver's phone to tell you that my phone's been stolen and---"

"Kya? Are you hurt? Oh, Pari! What horrors have I drawn you into?" cried Khushi.

"I'm fine. A boy---a street urchin, really---grabbed it out of my hand. I just wanted to let you know that you may not hear from me but you are not to worry---"

"---No!" Khushi stopped her right there. "Absolutely not. Have the driver immediately return you to Janakpuri. You'll be safe at the house. This was already a risky endeavour, but without a telephone to communicate with, it is positively dangerous."

But Pari would not deviate from their plan.

She insisted she was up to the task. This may be our only chance! She reminded Khushi that Shyam was going to appear at the house later this evening and repeat his sordid demands---if they had nothing to counteract them, what would they do? She promised she would find a way to contact Khushi intermittently just as she had done now.

And with that Pari ended the call.

Khushi was left speaking into a line which had gone dead.

The gait which returned Khushi to Aman's office was more measured than her descent had been. Her imagination was projecting a scene of Dadasaheb demanding of her what right she had to send his only grandchild in pursuit of a corrupt and debauched man. Bina telephone!

As she entered Aman's office, the girl was trying to be helpful, arranging the strewn files into some semblance of order.

"Oh, no! Let me do that. I've kept you away from your work long enough---" The rest of Khushi's sentence was aborted when her eyes registered that the memory stick was not next to the keyboard where she had left it. Swiftly rounding the desk, she checked if it had slipped under the keyboard. She moved the files. She lifted the monitor. She questioned the girl. "What happened to the memory stick that was here?"

"Memory stick?"

"Aluminum," Khushi explained, describing with unnecessary detail the exact shape and size. "Blue lettering. Orange stripe. It was right here." Her words came out in bursts as she dropped to the floor to see if it had rolled under the desk.

The girl tried to assist by sifting through all the folders she had just gathered. She even shook each one to see if something might fall out, all the while insisting that she had never-ever seen a memory stick of that description in her entire life.

You can imagine Khushi's state by now, Sisters---frothingly frantic!---and the girl's insipid assurances were only contributing to that anxiety.

Khushi willed herself to gather her composure; to take the seat behind the desk; to present a picture of calm. "Not to worry," she lied. "Pari says Mr Behl is meticulous with backups. I'm sure he'll have the content saved elsewhere. I better get to work. The morning's all but gone and I've done absolutely nothing."

The girl took the hint and moved towards the door. She had barely gone through when she popped her head back in and asked, "Is Pari ok? What was so urgent? Why is she off today? Is she ill? Is she on a date?"

Khushi managed to fashion some reasonable replies to all of the above which seemed to satisfy the girl's curiosity. She finally left.

After which Khushi tore up every inch of Aman Behl's office in search of that memory stick.

(Every inch except the wastepaper basket where it had landed when the files on the desk had scattered.)

By Jalebi Jane