IPKKND FF: KHUSHI by JALEBI JANE Thread 1: EPISODE 001-052 - Page 95

Posted: 7 years ago
Originally posted by archnahardik123


you'll be pressed to stay the night and you are to say 'no'---are we agreed on that, Khushi?"

"Lekin---"

"No," he stopped her with a finger across her lips, "enjoy your visit, stay for dinner, but remember you sleep only with me."

This is Arnav in love we are talking about. If she leaves him for a while too he feels like life is out him. He can't live without her even for second. This is how he is possessive about her. 

We can understand why he behave like this and Khushi too. But she too has feeling and would Like to spent some time with her family. Men can't understand this, only if they had to leave their family and stay away in other family.

So Mr. Malhotra has entered. It will be fun to read a jealous Arnav.

Arnav carry Khushi in his heart, mind and soul, and when this happen a heart can feel tiny changes around Khushi. Like when he saw yash with her. Without knowing their past he can feel yash' connection with Khushi and this disturbed him. Now how can he leave her with him.

He liked Khushi with baby in her arms. his heart want this picture to come true.

Awesome update


When I read this episode before posting it---I sensed a different energy in Khushi. Especially when they are at market having chaat. She loves him so much but knows that her friend may not be well-received by Arnav. 
Posted: 7 years ago
Awesome updates and that too 3... Thank you!
Nice intro for the new characters...

Already Arnav is not very happy about the closeness they share...this will put khushi into trouble I guess ...

Soemtimes one may feel suffocated if you  can't be yourself...and he had already warned khushi how possessive he could be...will this make their bond stronger or fragile to be seen 

Are they any way getting linked to Anjali...eventually Shyam has to go away from her life...
Posted: 7 years ago
...and here comes Dr. Yash ... I liked him
Posted: 7 years ago
This complex arnav s very difficult to understand ...what runs in that smart brain /head of him ...god he only knos...of course you do...
Posted: 7 years ago

KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 040)

WHO AMONGST US CAN NAME that moment, that word, that look that germinated the first seed of love in our heart? Impossible! However, what is possible---given the beauty of a woman's nuanced heart---is to name the subsequent moments which expanded that first opening.

For Khushi, when Arnav said, "you can stay as late as you wish, and when you are ready for bed, I'll pick you up. And I'll drop you back first thing tomorrow morning," he may as well have dropped on one knee and declared himself like a romantic hero of the stage. For it showed that though Arnav Singh Raizada would always aim to govern her, he was not impervious to her wishes. To some women this would not be good enough, but to Khushi it was a good enough beginning. After all, how could we expect a young woman to avoid that same love trap that those much wiser than she still fall into today; how could Khushi please solely herself when she loved most to please him?

It would then come as no surprise that she asked the driver to stop briefly at the market, and while the others waited in the car, she purchased karela to prepare his favourite dish for dinner. And at the appointed hour when Gupta House waited for their son-in-law to arrive, Khushi was conscious that her eyes waited for Arnav with a hunger nothing to do with the elaborate meal prepared.

The Malhotras, Arnav and Buaji sat at the table. Amma sat off to the side where she fed Bawji, and of course, Payal and Khushi served the table. Once everyone was served, Khushi drew Little Khushi from her father's lap where she was fidgeting and not eating, nor letting her father eat.

"I'll take her," she insisted.

The child tilted her head up to Khushi, and promptly asked, "where? Take me where?"

"I've decided to take you home with me. Theek hai?" Khushi asked in mock-seriousness.

The child considered the proposal briefly and nodded her little head.

"Lo!" Yash complained. "Don't give her ideas, Khush. She's the type who'll hold you to it. She'll have her little suitcase by the door in ten minutes."

"Who says I'm not serious?" Khushi replied.

She brought a morsel to the child's mouth, and when she fussed, Khushi made a small game of it and soon the child was eating without being aware that she was.

Mrs Malhotra nudged her son, and said, "look, Khushi's managed to get some food down the little one."

Yash's reply was for his mother, but he looked at Arnav, his voice teasing, "that does it. We're left with no choice but to take Khush back to Lucknow with us."

"Then we have a problem," Arnav said, "because like your daughter, I also eat best when fed by Khushi's hands." Arnav surprised Khushi with his response. His eyes met hers across the table and spoke of every other pleasure he also enjoyed delivered by Khushi's hands. Khushi's body responded to his fiery gaze. She felt herself flush, and the heat intensified when Yash threw her a devilish wink across the table.

FOLLOWING DINNER, THE FAMILY AND GUESTS gravitated to the back of the house where they sat in the open air to chat. Yash took his daughter inside to put her to bed---but only after the girl extracted a promise from everyone that they would still all be there in the morning, and that they would not do anything enjoyable without her.

When he returned, Arnav came to his feet and Khushi read that as a cue for their leave-taking. She had explained earlier to Buaji and Amma that she was obliged to go home, and to her surprise they had agreed that both bahus should not be away from their sasural at the same time.

Khushi said her farewell, but extended an invitation to the Malhotras to come to Raizada House before they returned to Lucknow. They promised they would do their best. Yash---who had always been physically demonstrative towards Khushi---draped his arm over her shoulders and brought his mouth to her ear. His astute mind had caught on and teased her, "he won't let you stay here tonight? Honeymoon abhi baki hai, kya?"

Khushi, concerned that Arnav may hear him, pushed Yash away, "be quiet!"

Yash pulled her into a bear hug, and laughed, "still so shy! Oh, Khush, I've missed you."

KHUSHI WOULD HAVE BEEN MORTIFIED had she realized that Arnav heard Yash's final words. But he had. And, of course, Arnav also saw his slim wife disappear into that man's embrace. Another husband may have dismissed it as easy banter between two old friends, but for this husband, it was not so easily set aside. If truth must be told, it gnawed upon him. He wasn't threatened. Khushi was his---that was  final. But he wondered if she was cognizant of her own power. Shyam. NK. Yash. His own dark-green thoughts held him captive and he was silent driving home. Khushi, who must have sensed his mood, also remained silent.

When they were walking up the stairs from the carport to the front door of Raizada House, he asked, "Where is the child's mother?" He heard some tension in his own tone, and was not surprised that Khushi turned to look at him.

"I don't know," she replied.

Arnav found this hard to believe. "He has never spoken of her? How old is the girl?"

"Almost five," Khushi replied. "He and Khushi---little Khushi---left for America soon after she was born. I only know that he is still unmarried. Not widowed or divorced, but unmarried."

They stepped through the front door, and Arnav locked it behind them. "He told you so?" It was put as a question.

"No, I heard Mrs Malhotra ask Buaji if she would help forge a rishta for Yash."

"Good luck with that!" Arnav said, almost under his breath. But Khushi who had the power to read his mind, heard him.

"Why do you say it that way?"

"What way?"

"Spitefully," she elaborated. "Granted, I know that some doors will be closed to him with the question about Khushi's mother, but if a woman has the courage to look beyond that, Yash would make an excellent husband."

"I don't care what sort of husband he will make; I simply meant that your Yash will not marry no matter how many rishtas Buaji brings."

"Kyun?"

"Because the woman he wants is already married."

"Who?"

"You. Obviously."

"Kya?"

They had reached their bedroom. He turned to Khushi and she appeared---well, she appeared shocked! He had his answer: she was not aware that her friend was in love with her. That soothed him somehow. Her face was in half-shadow. He ran a finger down her cheek and across her jaw.  He nodded at the question in her eyes. "I see how he is with you."

"No," she shook her head with disbelief. "No, you are mistaken. What you see is the affection of a dear friend. He's always been like that. I've known him since I came to live with Amma and Bawji," Khushi clarified, and walked to the vanity table, where she began to remove her necklace. She seemed irritated by his assessment.

Arnav followed her. The necklace got tangled once more in her hair, and he assisted---once again---in freeing it. "Tell me, Khushi," he asked, laying the necklace down on the table, "is there anybody left in this world not besotted with my wife?"

"Yes, I know one person."

By Jalebi Jane


Posted: 7 years ago

KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 041)
KHUSHI SAW ARNAV'S BROWS gather into a foreboding frown; then, almost as soon as it was noticed, the cloud was gone, and a lazy smile replaced the frown.

"Do you really require yet another conquest in me?" he asked.

Conquest?! Khushi bristled at his cavalier tone.

Arnav turned away from her, walked to the wardrobe and proceeded to remove his jacket. He didn't meet her eyes when he said. "Khushi, I'm not like your Yash or NK---I'm not going to fawn at your feet so you can triumph that you have Arnav Singh Raizada under your control."

Khushi heard his words and her stomach sank in what could only be called wretched despair. She talked of love; he talked of control. It was like living with Tatyana Sen: they had no common language.

"Believe me, Arnav Singh Raizada, nobody could ever accuse you of fawning at the feet of your wife," she replied, aware that her words were laced with bitterness. She pulled off her earrings, dropped them on the table with uncharacteristic carelessness and went to her end of their shared wardrobe. She slid it open, which resulted in the doors sliding shut at her husband's end. The sound punctuated the end of their conversation. In that moment she knew the real meaning of the word heartsick. Grabbing her night suit, she headed towards the bathroom. She needed to stand under a hot shower for a good twenty minutes.

He caught her arm to stop her as she moved past him. "I've made you sad," he said, his voice visibly softened.

"No," she lied. Then, Khushi corrected herself. What is the point of hiding my heart?  "Yes," she corrected, and on unsteady legs, slumped onto the edge of the bed.  And as if things were not horrid enough, tears began to flow from her eyes. She couldn't prevent it.

Arnav dropped to his knees at her feet, and cupped her face, saying, "don't, Khushi. Don't." With his thumbs, he wiped her tears as fast as they flowed---but, as every woman knows, the more tender our lover is, the more profusely we weep. She felt the sheer exhaustion of loving Arnav.

Why can I simply not be loved? Is that too much to ask? Is there something deficient in me that I cannot have his free, full and open love?

And of course, Sisters, with these questions, Khushi worked herself emotionally to a higher-and-higher pitch, and soon she was gulping back painful loud sobs, which she attempted to muffle with her clenched fist, but could not. Every pain she had ever felt in their history together was felt anew. And it was all felt in this moment.

"Khushi!" his tone was severely agitated now. "What is it?!" He gripped her shoulders.

"I'm worn out," she pleaded, her eyes rolling up to meet his. She made absolutely no effort to hide her emotions.

He visibly winced at her words. "Come here," he said, drawing her into his arms.

She did not resist. She allowed herself to be caught against his strong warm body and snuggled against his neck.

And, in that moment, Khushi made a decision to give up. 

She made the decision to lay herself naked. There was nothing about her that he had not seen and known, so why not dismantle this final wall of her heart? What could she possibly have to lose that was not already lost by this endless speaking in tongues? No more self-preservation, she decided. If their love was true, than disclosure would nourish it.

She looked up at him. She saw he was distressed, but as she could no longer protect herself, she could not protect his feelings either. He would have to hear her no matter how intolerable her words were to him.

"Arnav?" It was the first time she had called him Arnav---other than those times when they were physically intimate. But what was more intimate than this? She felt the full seriousness of what she was risking. His reply could either destroy her hopes for ever, or give her that assuredness that she should continue to love as she did.

She took his face in her hands, and said, "I love you. I've only ever loved you. And I know you love me too."  She then grasped his hands in hers and brought them so he could hear her heartbeat. "But I don't feel it. I don't know your heart. Give me your heart, Arnav. I can love you so well if you open your heart to me."

Her final words were both a plea and a promise in one.

Arnav's eyes were no longer on her face. He was looking down, his eyes averted. She saw his lips were pressed close as though he had to prevent words from stumbling out. Khushi waited. He made a slight nod. And then he drew breath and looked at her.

"You have it...my heart. All of it. You have my heart, Khushi."

At his words, life---and everything bright and beautiful connected with it---flooded into her veins. He pressed her palms against his heart, and said, "this is the property of Khushi Singh Raizada."Khushi smiled, and though he still looked terribly serious she felt a lightness about him. He added, "but, listen to me, Khushi---don't ever cry like that again. Shout at me. Punish me. But don't cry. It kills me. And don't give up on me. I can't speak how you do. I have my own way. Like not wanting you away for a single night---that is my way. Try to understand my way of speaking."

She nodded and made a commitment to try to comprehend his unique language. "I'll try," she promised solemnly. In this moment she would promise him anything and everything.

He brought her face to his, and she waited to receive a kiss to seal their promises. He was gentle. So incredibly tender and gentle, more than she had ever known him to be. Khushi felt that their universe had expanded and altered in some significant way in this one quarter of an hour.

TERROR WAS NOT TOO STRONG A WORD. Arnav Singh Raizada had felt sheer cold terror when Khushi had broken down. He had again experienced what it was to have life leave his body---but then with her unvarnished declaration new life had returned. His way of caring for Khushi manifested itself in acts of possessiveness and attempts to control---and though he was comfortable with this, he knew she required words from him. He had known it for days---especially during their nights, when they lay exhausted from play with their limbs entwined---he knew that more than their lovemaking, more than the jalebis he brought her, she craved his feelings. This was the dilemma. Perhaps if he felt less, he could speak more.*

Khushi was in the shower. In the interim, he went down to the kitchen with an empty water jug. The empty jug was a symbol, he mused. Khushi always prepared their room with all they would need during the night; with her away all day today, the things he took for granted had gone undone. Because Khushi had been gone. He filled the jug and then opened the fridge to see if there was something sweet for him to take up to Khushi. He removed a box of mithai, and was about to place some pieces on a plate---but as he saw the confectioner's squares, he had a realization. This was not what Khushi needed this evening; she needed him. His entire self. His body---and his voice.

He returned to their bedroom, and saw his wife seated at the stool, drying her hair. His heart expanded with husbandly pride. Khushi was beautiful at any hour of the day, but there was something especially arresting about her when she emerged from the shower, fresh-faced with damp hair. It was her innocence that he saw then. Her unadorned pure nature. It elicited all his protective instincts.

And his wicked instincts too. Those night suits however---they would have to go! He made a mental note to order some nightwear for Khushi from the lingerie shop that had her details. Pearl.

"What are you thinking?" she swivelled and asked.

He gave a half-smile. "Nothing."

"I can tell it's something," she prodded, smiling.

He came to her, and pulled her to her feet. "When you wear these night suits I feel like a very bad man with wicked ideas eyeing a schoolgirl."

She gasped, and covered her mouth, her eyes twinkling. "Oh, like a lecherous uncle!" she giggled. "There was just such an Uncleji in our neighbourhood in Lucknow---" and then tilting her head this way and that, as though she was measuring him with her eyes, she incautiously added, "---in fact, you resemble him from certain angles."

This we know, Sisters, was a big-fat invention.

"Yeah, right." He set the jug down on the nightstand and caught her wrist, bringing her back in his arms.

"Did you want something from me, Uncleji?" she said, getting into her game, adopting an innocent-girlish accent.

"If you continue to call me Uncleji, I won't be able to perform tonight," he warned her.

"Koi baat nahin, Uncleji."

"...or maybe ever again!"

KHUSHI HAD THE WISDOM to know when to end a game.

She suggested, "why don't you have a shower?"

He laughed, and asked "do I need one?"

"No, but you'll feel refreshed, Uncl---" She stopped herself just in time. He glared at her, but was persuaded about the shower.

While he was in the shower, Khushi finished drying her hair, and went to the wardrobe. At the back of the drawer, where she stored her new undergarments, she had kept a red satin chemise, folded in tissue. It was an indulgence purchased during her trip to the lingerie boutique. This seemed its correct inaugural moment.

She speedily removed her old suit---it suddenly seemed distastefully dull---and slipped the satin on with its matching thong. The shop attendant had called the chemise babydoll' and when she glanced at herself in the mirror she saw neither a baby nor a doll. She saw a woman; she saw the woman she wanted to be for her man. She then pressed her ear against the bathroom door and heard the water still running. That gave her a few moments to smudge some gloss onto her lips. She was applying lotion to her legs when she realized that there was no longer any sound of running water emerging from the bathroom.

Her heart leapt in her chest. It was one thing to undress for him when he demanded it, but it was entirely another matter to wait for him in this brazen fashion. Aagh! So many frontiers in one day.

He would be out of the bathroom at any moment. Where should she be? Standing here? No, Khushi, you can't stand around like this. The bed? No, silly girl, not the bed!  The pool? Of course, not! The bathroom door handle turned and she could no longer delay. She leapt onto the recliner, her bottom lip caught in her teeth.

Arnav emerged from the bathroom, with a towel draped around his waist, and another towel in his hand mopping the moisture from his wet hair. He stepped into the room, and she saw his eyes lift to search for her. They fell on the bed, and then moved to the recliner. Her body flooded with warmth as his eyes registered, first surprise---followed by a slow appraisal---and finally, appreciation. He tossed the towel that was in his hand on the stool, crossed his arms and took her in. His eyes consumed her from across the room. The warmth in her body transformed into a mixture of fear and anticipation. It took an effort for her to not break eye contact.

"What happened to the schoolgirl?" he asked with a lift of his brow.

Khushi drew in a breath and came to her feet. "She ran away," she replied, not knowing quite what to do with her hands, so she clasped and unclasped them.

If she had thought he could not further dismantle her, when she stood and the manner in which he took her in, annihilated her. His eyes darkened in a way that was now very familiar to her.

"Come to me, Khushi," he said.

She swallowed. But did not move. She crooked her finger to him to indicate that he had to come to her.

Again, his eyes showed surprise. But he came to stand in front of her, not yet touching her. "Turn around?" he asked. "Please," was also added when she did not respond immediately.

Khushi turned a full circle. Slowly. She heard his breath hitch. The fact is that this chemise was rather short at the back, Sisters. And the thong was nothing more than an exorbitantly-priced length of string.

When she was again facing him, he ran his fingers from her wrist to collarbone, excruciatingly slowly. It was a light scratch of his fingernails more than it was a caress. She shivered, and her own breathing grew uneven and jagged.

"If you knew what effect you are having on me, Khushi, I think you would also run out of this room," he ventured.

She replied with more confidence than she felt. "Tell me so I can decide whether to stay or run."

"Once I tell you, I won't have the power to let you go."

"Then don't tell me. Show me," she said, bravely taking his hand and leading him to the bed.

*Adapted from Jane Austen's -Emma-

By Jalebi Jane


Posted: 7 years ago
And ...who does she think that person is?😲
Posted: 7 years ago
From an innocent school girl to an ultimate seductress...our heroine is growing in leaps and bounds!!!
Posted: 7 years ago
This chapter has the most touching and beautiful heart to heart conversation between the two. Each time I read this story I feel the same ( and I have read it a number of times). 
Posted: 7 years ago
Wow and he think he is not besotted


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