IPKKND FF: KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane Thread 2: EPISODE 052-082 - Page 14

KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 057)

THE PERSON WHO CANNOT REJOICE in her husband's success and pleasure must be an unattractive combination of insecurity and self-absorption. This Khushi realized as she returned the newspaper to Anjali. Her first breakfast (aloo puri) at Sheesh Mahal (poolside) had been destroyed by a photo of Arnav Singh Raizada (proud attractive man) standing close (shoulders definitely touching) to Angelica (cool pouty beauty) in the business pages. Anjali had brought it to her attention. The headline read -Heavenly Alliance- and the article referred to "an eleventh-hour rescue by AR Group of Industries of the struggling refrigeration giant -Angel-blah blah blah. The photo was snapped yesterday at midnight when the two companies signed the deal at a lush resort hotel in Goa.

Goa! Arnav was in Goa with a person with one-name-only three hours after they texted and he had made no mention of it. The waving palms in the background of the photo seemed to mock Khushi's pain.

"This photo doesn't do her justice. She's more beautiful in person. And according to Chotte, she has an astute business mind," Anjali said, unaware of the multiple layers of damage she was doing to her Bhabhi.

"You've met her?"

"Chotte introduced us. They were at business school together. She's heir to her father's business, something to do with---?"

"---refrigeration," Khushi contributed, coldly.

"Chotte mentioned it? I'm pleased he speaks to you about his work. Otherwise he holds it all inside."

No, Di! Your Chotte tells me nothing of import---whether it be his heart or matters near his heart, such as his work.

She knew that was an unfair assessment, but in contrast to an Angelica, Khushi saw herself as uncouth and undeveloped. Even though they had communicated last night, Arnav had not mentioned the signing of this significant deal because he obviously believed she would have nothing meaningful to contribute on the topic.

Or worse, that she was uninterested in his work life.

How mistaken he was! Doesn't he know that every atom of his staggering mind---his thoughts, his hopes, his achievements---is more interesting to me than my own mind? Doesn't he know that when I make his favourite sabzi, I am saying that I am ready---beyond ready!---to know and act on all things he loves? I don't have a father with an empire to bestow nor have I attended business school, but I can be an equal and worthy partner to you, Arnav Singh Raizada---just let me in!

She recalled the pleasure of supporting him when he secured the deal with Ashok Sen. He had not asked her to befriend Tatyana. She had recognized a need and a role and acted upon it.

Why wait to be let in, Khushi?

A ray of understanding flooded her with hope. Her objective was their shared happiness. She could best achieve this by recognizing what he needed from a partner, and creating the space in their life so when he wanted to share, he would reach for her. When she had texted him last night, she had not even stopped to ask about his day, where he was, what he was doing. She had launched into her own concerns. He may have already been in Goa, maybe even between important meetings. She groaned inwardly realizing how her insecurities had probably added to his stress yesterday---and shown him that she was too self-absorbed for him to share his larger, significant concerns.

Khushi saw now, with perfect clarity, that her chaotic and unfocused habits would not serve the life she wanted to create with Arnav. She was not immature but her habits often were. She was not trivial but her behaviour showed she lacked serious thought. She was not negligent but she was sometimes careless. What had he said to her yesterday? That life with her was like living with a child. Khushi had to shut her eyes at the deep embarrassment of seeing herself through his eyes.

Had the servant approached the table in that moment he would have found the two women looking wistful.

Anjali was thinking about how, unlike Khushi, she had never talked to her husband about what he did between the hours when he left home in the morning and returned in the evening. Perhaps if she had spoken more, asked more questions, she would have known the truth sooner. She would have caught the anomalies and the irregularities that were a clue to married women to be vigilant. She had taken her brother's generous love and used it to settle into a life of elegant luxury and quiet apathy. "That ends here," she said, rising from the breakfast table.

"I agree. That ends here," Khushi said, rising also.

Both women deep in independent thought but somehow united.

Anjali asked, "are you leaving now?"

"Yes, shortly," Khushi said, reaching for her phone. "I'll be back in the afternoon and help you with the party plans."

Anjali stopped her, "Bilkul nahi. It's your birthday party. I want every aspect to be a beautiful surprise for you. I'll manage with the house staff and Payal Bhabhi has provided me with a list of the best shops in Lucknow to procure goods."

Khushi was about to insist when she saw Anjali distracted by something on the other side of the pool. Khushi saw her eyes light up with a luminosity the family had feared had been lost forever. Anjali took a few steps forward. Khushi saw Yash standing at the french doors leading into the house. Little Khushi was standing next to her father, clutching his leg with one arm and in her free hand hung an armless tangly-haired doll.

What happened next was so subtle, so achingly minute in its beauty that Khushi would later believe she had imagined it, but in that moment---in that very moment---Khushi did believe that she saw a woman give her heart away to that trio---the man, the child, and the doll.

Anjali and Khushi went to greet them. A small overnight case in Yash's hands seemed to hold some significant meaning to Anjali. Khushi saw Anjali reach for the case and noted that the two exchanged a smile that only they understood.

"What about the one-roof rule?" Anjali asked.

"Amended by a one-night-only clause," Yash replied.

"Where do I sign?" Anjali asked.

"No signature required." he said, and added, "but I do reserve the right to call and check on her an infinite number of times throughout the evening. And probably a few panic calls between midnight and four am."

"I'll keep the phone near my bed," Anjali promised.

The two Khushis listened to this exchange but were no better informed. However, Big Khushi knew what Little Khushi was yet too young to know, that a private language between two people was the first assured step towards falling in love.

THOUGH THE DRIVER WAS READY to convey Khushi to the old house, Yash insisted he have that pleasure. As they drove away, Yash saw, in the rear-view mirror, his daughter happily waving him off. "She should at least pretend to shed some tears at my leaving," Yash said, half-seriously.

"Di?" Khushi replied, turning to her friend with a raised eyebrow and a teasing glint in her eye.

Yash flicked her an indifferent look and smoothly changed the subject.

This confirmed for Khushi that her friend's heart had indeed been infiltrated. But no more was said on the topic---and this, Khushi recognized, was a blessing. If Yash had corroborated her suspicions, she would have had to decide whether to reveal or conceal her findings to Arnav. Neither choice would bode well. Why borrow trouble when there was already enough excitement in her married life?

Yash left Khushi at the front gate of her childhood home; but, before she could indulge in sentiment and nostalgia, Buaji came to greet her in a state of happy agitation. The situation was this: Arnav had made arrangements for the Guptas to have household help. Buaji said that three servants had been waiting for them this morning. One to help with the house. One to attend exclusively to Bawji. One to act as gardener/security guard/errand runner. Khushi's eyes grew wet as she placed a hand over her mouth to cover a toothy grin. To have made all these arrangements when he had so much else to do both gladdened and humbled her.

WITH THE ADDITIONAL HANDS, sufficient work was completed on the main rooms that the Guptas could look forward to sleeping in their own beds that night. Khushi felt it was not unrealistic to expect that her family would be completely settled by end of day tomorrow. After calling Sheesh Mahal to request the driver come fetch her, she made a quick trip to the temple across the road and made an offering for Arnav's new venture. Then, while waiting for the driver in the cool shade of the courtyard, she sent her husband a text message: Free to talk?

Instead of a text reply, she received his call.

It should be mentioned that seeing Laad Governor flash across her telephone screen created in Khushi a sort of adolescent thrill that her body found hard to ignore. Not unlike a teenager wishing privacy, she stood and walked a few feet away from where Amma and Buaji were seated, before taking the call.

"Mr Raizada," she said, in the way of a greeting.

"Hi," he replied, sounding deliciously boyish. "Making good progress with the house?"

She was glad to be provided an early opening to thank him. "Excellent progress. Thanks to you. We are the envy of the neighbourhood. Nobody else has a dedicated gardener."

Khushi sensed his smile, as he said, "I hate to see a garden go neglected."

"Amma and Buaji want to also thank you for the house-help. Ek minute---"

"---wait, Khushi!" he prevented her. "I'll collect my thanks later---but from you."

Khushi heard the innuendo in his voice. His voice standing in for his touch. She didn't know how to respond, so she asked the first thing that occurred to her. "Are you still in Goa?"

There was a lengthy pause.

Long enough for her to comprehend that he had not expected her to know about Goa. "Yes," he said. The brevity of his reply disappointed her. He did not ask how she knew. Nor did he indicate when he would return to Delhi. But Khushi was not daunted. The resolution she had made at breakfast had been in earnest. She wanted to be a wife in full.

She spoke further. "Di and I read in this morning's paper about your latest acquisition. Congratulations."

"It's not a big deal," he said. "Newspapers need stories."

"Don't dismiss your achievement. I see how hard you work." She added, "I'm proud of you." Khushi's voice caught slightly as she said those final words, not realizing the truth of that statement until it was voiced.

Her husband made no reply for a moment. He then said, "You took sweets to the temple, didn't you?"

"Of course. I'm the daughter of a halwai."

"And the wife of a diabetic," he said. "Surely you see the conflict of interest."

While he was speaking, Khushi noticed that the Sheesh Mahal driver had arrived and was waiting for her. His vehicle was blocking the narrow lane earning the wrath of their neighbours. First a gardener; then a driver; such pretensions! She told Arnav she would speak to him later; he said he would call her that evening. It was left like that.

YASH MALHOTRA FOUND HIMSELF back at Sheesh Mahal that evening. But before speculation runs rife, let it be stated that this late visit was not due to any machinations on his part. The finger of blame must be pointed at a certain almost-five year old girl who became misty-eyed at bedtime. It seems that a favourite blanket without which sleep was impossible was missing from her little suitcase. Anjali called the father to say she was sending their driver for it. Yash said it would be quicker if he came himself. That is the full truth of how he happened to be in Anjali Raizada's bedroom at nine pm.

The blanket was produced and Yash remained by the bed until Little Khushi was sound asleep. Anjali then showed him to the TV lounge where the other Khushi was watching the evening news. Anjali offered refreshments, and he accepted. He was narrating a funny incident from his first day at the City Hospital, when Khushi suddenly leapt up. She had left her phone upstairs and thought she heard it ringing. She sprinted up the stairs, leaving the two alone.

By Jalebi Jane

KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 058)

WE KNOW THAT THE ONE drawback of being intelligent is that one can rationalize any situation with lucid arguments and make one's chosen position appear accurate. Black can become white. Or was that the other way around? Yash Malhotra applied his prodigious mind and came to the conclusion that what he felt when in the presence of Anjali Raizada was nothing more than sexual desire gone awry. He had his reasons for reaching this conclusion. In fact, he had five reasons:

1. Every man had a preference and Yash was---pardon the vernacular---an ass-man. Anjali Raizada had the sort of derriere that made him look forward to her leaving the room. He hated to be coarse, but it had to be said.

2. Prolonged self-enforced celibacy. Never a good idea. The mind may seek tranquility but a healthy body will eventually want action. Again, he hated to be blunt, but there it was.

3. Elegance. Yes, elegance! Anjali Raizada was all things refined and sophisticated. And every time he was near her, Yash would imagine what it would take to unleash the animal in her. The promise of that duality aroused him.

4. Forbidden fruit. This required no explanation. Anjali Raizada would never engage in a sexual relationship with him. Hence, this fruit looked all the more ripe.

5. The most subversive reason of all was her motherly nature. Yash was attracted to her kind, soft, nurturing womanliness. Nothing too perverse, but when he saw Anjali Raizada tuck his daughter in bed, he wanted to immediately lead her into the next room and take her to bed.

With knowledge came power: Having identified beyond doubt that there was nothing extraordinary in his pull towards Anjali, this mental list resulted in soothing his raging libido. At least for the present moment. Yash knew that the pull was as basic as sexual chemistry which, though powerful, was not unmanageable. She was in Lucknow for only a few days. What was it that his mother always said? Anything can be endured for a few days.

In fact, it did not even have to be a painful few days. He could enjoy the sexual charge for what it was. It was nice to feel that buzz again---it reminded him he was a man first. Then, a father. He could enjoy looking at her and being near her. After all, he was no squeamish untried youth who could not control himself around a beautiful woman.

So, by the time Anjali returned to the lounge---she had gone to the bedroom to fetch something---Yash felt quite relaxed and at ease with his new understanding. He no longer had to censor his admiring eyes. He took her in fully now, not averting his unprofessional gaze as he had been doing this past week. He smiled openly. There was no danger. All he risked was his own sleepless nights.

"What do you think?" Anjali asked, holding up a girl's party dress.

He came to his feet and approached her. Taking the hanger out of her hands, he held the dress up. "Very nice," he said. "Has she seen it?"

"She chose it!" Anjali said.

"Oh, I thought you must have brought it with you from Delhi."

Anjali explained, "I meant to, but my decision to join Bhabhi was so last-minute-ish that there was no time to shop. Little Khushi and I went into town this afternoon and found this." She took the dress from him, and asked, "you approve then?"

"Heartily. You managed to manoeuvre her away from those hideous pink frilly frocks she seems obsessed with," Yash said. A quick glance at the tag on the dress told him how much he owed her. He reached for his satchel to remove his wallet and reimburse her, but she stopped him by laying a hand on his forearm.

"Put your purse away, Dr Malhotra---you are dangerously close to insulting me," she said with a half-serious glare.

"Insulting you? You just implied I carry a purse!"

"A man-bag, then." Adding with a smile, "a murse?"

"Try satchel?" he suggested. "And the next time you faint in my arms, you will be grateful that I carry a purse." He showed her the contents of his medical bag. He then removed some money from his wallet and placed it on a side-table.

Anjali said, "that action is tantamount to unfriending me."

"I would rather unfriend you, than unman myself." He saw something dark pass across her features. She turned away abruptly. He caught her by the shoulders, and gently forced her to face him. "I'm sorry. I have no wish to offend you, but any expense you incur to please my daughter, I will carry. That is final."

She shook her head, and said, "no, of course. I understand. I was just...I think being targeted for money has left me with the belief that that is all he saw. That I had nothing to offer except my wealth."

Yash made a disapproving sound from deep within his throat.

She lifted her eyes, and made a small nod. "I know it's not accurate, but sometimes, I think about how much I gave that had nothing to do with money. And will it be realized now or will it wither?"

"Anjali---"

She held up her hand. "Please don't pity me, or think I am pitying myself---I'm not. I'm feeling remarkably strong these last two days. I'm even somewhat excited about a new life. I'm just sharing this because---well, because you are kind enough to listen."

"I'm not kind," he said, sobered by her words and ashamed by his earlier thoughts. One man had seen her as a purse to plunder; he had seen her as fuel for fantasy. He mentally tore up his list into shreds. She was far more than an object to desire.

"Agreed. You're not kind," she said lightly, beginning to move out of the grip he had on her shoulders.

"This is what I am, if you care to know." He brought his mouth down to her lips. It was not a kiss that hesitates and holds back before reaching the mouth. He did not hesitate; he did not hold back. Nor was it a kiss that asked for a response before continuing. He didn't ask. He simply kissed her as he wanted to kiss her. He pressed against her mouth and tasted her lips. He was not forceful; nor was he gentle. He drew her closer to him with an arm around her waist, as his tongue entered her mouth. Her cheek was pressed against his shoulder, and her face tilted up.

It should be mentioned that it was not one-sided for long. She did kiss him back. She fisted her hands into his shirt collar, drawing him even closer, and deepened the kiss. His free hand caught the back of her head so she would not break the kiss too soon. The kiss did eventually break---but only briefly, and only to restore oxygen reserves. She took his mouth again, eagerly and---then from somewhere not far away, they heard a sound. Now the kiss did end.

KHUSHI WAS NOT SO naive to believe that passionate intensity belonged to her and Arnav alone. What her eyes took in---between entering the lounge and turning right back around!---informed her that this was no slight fever of admiration. This was fire. And only a woman intimate with such a blaze could recognize the danger another woman faced.

In her haste to leave the room, Khushi knocked against a chair, sending several cushions flying. She bent to retrieve them. Giving the two lovers just enough time to separate.

Khushi straightened. Her eyes travelled from her friend to her sister-in-law. How did this compare to being caught with your husband's finger in your mouth? These things were difficult to measure, but the pink flush on Anjali's cheeks told her enough.

Khushi decided to speak first. She pointed upstairs in the general direction of the bedroom, "Woh, Arnavji ka phone tha---he's just landed at Lucknow airport. He's on his way." Khushi deliberately connected with Yash's eyes as she said the words He's on his way.' In the language of old friends, this translated to: Yaar, you better be on your way!

Khushi moved to the other side of the room to allow Anjali and Yash take leave of each other. Which they did. Yash then grabbed his purse, gave Khushi a curt nod, and showed himself out.

The two ladies waited until they heard the front door close, and then ran to each other.

"Di!" Khushi exclaimed.

Anjali took her hands in hers and said, "Bhabhi---!"

What more could be said? There is no single word to connote the sensation when misery and delight are felt together. "Were you expecting, Chotte?" Di asked, her voice rather breathless.

Khushi shook her head. "No. We spoke this afternoon. He was still in Goa. When I went upstairs, there was a voicemail that he is here."

Anjali smiled. "My brother is wild about you. He can't keep away---"

"---Di? Yash---" Khushi began.

Anjali pressed her fingertips to Khushi's mouth. "Not now, Bhabhi." She guided her to the door, and begged, "Not a word to Chotte. Tell him Little Khushi's with me and I've gone to bed. Go." Anjali gave Khushi another push towards the staircase.

KHUSHI RAN UPSTAIRS TO HER---that is, their bedroom---and paced the floor. More deception! First Arnav had stopped her from disclosing Shyam's full story to Anjali; now Anjali had pressed her to keep something from Arnav. Just today, Buaji and Amma had mentioned the awkwardness of being silent when Nani had called to inform them that Shyam had betrayed Anjali. They feared that if the full truth came out, Nani---and especially Mami---would have strong words. With good reason! All Khushi had been able to comfort them with was that Arnav would handle everything.

Her phone rang. Laad Governor!

"Ji," she answered.

"You got my message?" he asked.

"Aap aageya?

He didn't reply her question. Instead he asked a question of his own. "Have you missed me?"

"A little." It was a ridiculous answer in view of last night's blatant declaration. But a woman reserves the right to recoup lost ground at any time. And since he had not disclosed his trip to Goa, she felt inclined to hold back something.

"You are heartless. I've spent the last four hours on a plane for you."

"Less for me, more for yourself, I think," she teased.

"Nobody but you could bring me to a city I hate."

"Then you should be rewarded for your great sacrifice, Mr Raizada."

"I agree."

His words touched off that flame deep in her centre. He was not yet here but she was already ready to receive him. "Where exactly are you?" she asked, going to the mirror to check her appearance. She heard the sounds of road traffic in the background.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes." Then asked, his voice laced with desire, "I want to hear how you will reward me?"

Khushi had absolutely no idea, but a plan began to germinate as she met her own passion-fuelled eyes in the mirror's reflection. Yesterday, during the house tour, Anjali had shown her the heart of Sheesh Mahal---a jewel of a room with mirrored walls flecked with gold and coloured glass windows. She didn't have to be told; it was a room where inhibitions were not allowed. She told Arnav where she would be.

"I'll find you," he promised. Before ending the call, he added, "a warning, Khushi. I've been hard for you since I left you at the airport yesterday. I won't have any patience for your games tonight."

By Jalebi Jane

KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 059)

"A WARNING, KHUSHI. I've been hard for you since I left you at the airport yesterday. I won't have any patience for your games tonight." Arnav Singh Raizada was a great many things, but nobody had ever confused him for a tender romantic poet. Without a doubt, he adored Khushi. To use the language of poets, he ardently loved her. To use his language, she was the inescapable clause in the contract of his life. In fact, it could be said that Khushi was a victim of her own success. So necessary was she to Arnav, that he had absorbed her into himself and that made him often careless about understanding her. After all, was it necessary to ask one's own heart what it needed to beat today?

He stepped inside the mirror room, almost treading on a lit candle, and came to an abrupt stop at the entrance. There were candles everywhere. Illuminating the room. Flames ricocheting off the mirrors. He hadn't looked closely at the rooms when he took over the property last year. He had not been inside this particular room since his boyhood days. It had never held any magic for him; not the way it had captivated his sister. But in this moment, he thought he could feel something of what Anjali may have been enthralled with. It felt as though he was caught inside a small splendid sun.

The door he had just shut behind him, opened.

Khushi.

Dressed in a white saree. Not quite dressed. The saree was wound low on her hips, with no evidence of a petticoat. The pallu itself tucked in so her beautiful midriff lay bare to his eyes. The saree as an aphrodisiac. A blouse, of which the last three buttons had been left strategically unbuttoned, cupped the fullness of her breasts. His loins tightened. The corner of his business mind that never shut off told him once again that his wife had a curious design talent for seduction wear. He saw that her hands were full. She balanced a covered thali, a water jug, a tumbler---and a sharp knife. She started upon seeing him. The knife began to slip, and he caught it before it fell to the floor. Khushi gasped as the blade sunk into his palm. Her eyes widened with horror.

"I'm fine," he said and opened his palm to show her there was no injury.

Her breath released, and she gave a small mocking smile as if to say, my hero.' She slid past him, her hips almost brushing against him---but not quite. Her feet making their way into the centre of the room were forced to weave a path between candles, drawing Arnav's full-body attention to the sway of her hips. It was an unconscious reflex. His hand reached out to caress her buttock. She looked over her shoulder at him and her lips parted. He had to have that mouth. He pressed himself against her back, brought a hand up to hold her head in that position and descended on her mouth. It did not remain a soft kiss, and as he tilted her head back to deepen the kiss, she broke it.

What?' he asked with his eyes.

She indicated her full hands, and moved to place the items on the low table.

He followed her as a moth enters a flame. Annihilation would be welcome if her hands would fulfill it. Again, he took her from the back. This time his arm drawn around her waist so she could not move away. His other hand sliding up and over her tummy to hold the weight of her breast. Arnav heard her breath catch as his thumb flicked her covered nipple. He caught that breath with an invasive kiss. His hand now reached for the other breast. He needed to touch her everywhere. Loosening his grip on her waist, he dipped his hand to where the saree was wrapped, he slipped his hand under the folds and his fingers found her warmth---and her wetness.

Arnav was not a man often surprised---except by Khushi who never failed to surprise him. There was nothing between her and the saree. He broke the kiss to look into her eyes. "I hope you haven't been running around like this all day," he said. She didn't give a verbal reply. Just a wink and a saucy smile, and once again, slipped away from him.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, indicating the covered thali.

"Not for food."

He saw how his reply made her blush. What a peculiar girl he had married! One that shocked him with her audacity and then flushed like a virgin. It was this complexity of Khushi that made him hers. There was no other woman that could engage him on so many levels at the same time. He thought about Angelica and her bold overture last night. He shook his head and unfurled his brow, as though to clear the memory.

"Arnav?" Khushi asked, and moved to touch his forehead. "Does your head hurt?"

"No," he said, focusing on her. "But I do ache." Brushing her hair away from her temple, he pressed his mouth to that soft spot. "You know what I need," he whispered. "And I need it now."

She took his hands and led him to the mattress on the floor. She left him standing, while she lay down---and with her eyes, she instructed him to undress. He didn't need a more explicit invitation than that. He removed his shoes, his socks, shrugged out of his jacket and began to unbutton his shirt. Her eyes touched where his hands went. He tossed the shirt to the floor. (Narrowly missing a candle!) His hands then unclasped the belt. As he did, Khushi's lower lip caught between her teeth. His breath quickened as he felt hers did. He undid his trousers, and stepped out of them. His underwear was removed as quickly and there was no barrier. Khushi's eyes averted at the sight, but then, a moment later, shyly her eyes returned to look at him and then met his gaze.

He remained standing above her.

"Your turn, Khushi," he instructed.

She didn't hesitate. Lifting from the pillow, she knelt on the mattress. Holding his gaze, she undid the remaining buttons on her blouse and showed herself to him, cupping her own breasts, making them a present to him. Arnav could no longer hold back. He knelt on the bed, caught her close and slid the saree off her hips.

Ah, the relentless demands of the human body.

Once one need is satiated, another rises. Arnav Singh Raizada was eventually hungry for food. And in this hunger too, Khushi was intimately involved. She sat on his lap and fed him with her hands. His eyes drank her in and his ears were treated to all her great and small thoughts. He realized how desperately he had missed her animated narratives punctuated by her gesticulations and the dance of emotions across her face. He ran his fingers down her cheek, knowing that if not for Khushi he would now be married to a laptop.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked.

His smile widened and he told her.

"Wife or laptop? Why limit yourself to one?" she said, wriggling sensually in his lap.

Arnav chuckled at her comment, and then gasped as her knee veered dangerously close to his essentials, "careful, Khushi. Don't jeopardize our chances for family life."

He saw surprise in Khushi's eyes. Of course, she was surprised. He had never indicated that he hoped for them to have children. As they never took precautions, he assumed that was conveyed. But had he asked her what her feelings were? He was ready; he assumed she was also ready.

He saw it was this precise behaviour that so often brought tears to her eyes: he failed to share his thoughts before they became plans and then became deeds. He had made a commitment to her the other evening that he would be conscious of this pattern, but he continued to behave as a workaholic bachelor, while enjoying all the advantages of married life.

Such as that evening he left to see Mr Chopra without informing her. She had been worried enough to check for his car. Or more recently, not informing her that he would be in Goa for business. He had sensed this afternoon that she had been disappointed that it fallen to a newspaper to inform her that her husband was away from Delhi. He admired how graciously she had handled it. Not confronted, but congratulated him---even though she was well within her right to be livid. He had to rethink his life. How he had lived so far had worked for him, but it was not the life he wanted to give Khushi.

Khushi came to her feet, and said, "I'll just return this to the kitchen. Should I meet you in the bedroom?"

WHEN SHE ENTERED THE BEDROOM, she saw Arnav had propped himself up on pillows against the headboard. His eyes were closed, but they flickered open when she walked past the bed. She had brought him some hot milk.

"You were long," he said, as she placed the milk on the bedside table.

Khushi had felt some lingering anxiety and popped into Anjali's room to see whether she was comfortable. She was happy to discover that Anjali and Little Khushi were cuddled together, fast asleep. "I went to see if Di wanted some milk. Little Khushi is spending the night."

Arnav asked, "does Di seem better?"

How to reply with delicacy? "Better and better," Khushi said, evasively. She saw that his hair was damp from the shower. "Let me also have a shower," she said.

"Hurry," he urged.

"Have your milk, Uncleji."

When she emerged from her shower, she saw that Arnav was missing from the room. She slipped under the duvet and waited. But unable to wait with patience, she left the bed and stepped into the dark corridor. With bare feet she strode to the upper landing where the great hall was visible below. This area was also pitch dark. She decided to return to the bedroom, when she ran into the solid chest wall of her husband. Her breath caught, as he swung her into his arms.

"What are you doing stumbling around in the dark, woman?" he demanded, as he carried her back to their lit bedroom.

"I was looking for you," she said.

He shut the door with his heel and laid her on the bed. Sliding down next to her, he announced, "I have reached a decision." Khushi rose on her elbow, and rolled towards him. She heard something in his voice that gave her pause. "This decision takes into consideration what you have recently said to me," he said, running her fingers down the length of her hair.

Khushi felt her heart lurch. She said, "you better explain. My imagination is running wild."

"I am going to reduce my workload. Akaash will take over my day-to-day responsibilities. I'll concentrate solely on expansion," he said. "Akaash is ready, but it's difficult by force of habit for our staff to go to him when I am available. If I step away, in time he will build credibility." Khushi was nodding. "I can work from anywhere. He can work from Headquarters. I'll be near enough if he needs to consult."

He met her eyes and asked, "thoughts?"

She was momentarily taken aback by his question. Arnav Singh Raizada had never consulted her. She sat up, cross-legged on the bed, and said enthusiastically, "I approve. You have a brilliant mind that thrives on challenge. In the last three weeks you have entered two new markets. The Sen Hotel deal. This Angel acquisition. I see how this excites you." She dropped a kiss on his mouth. "I'm thrilled for you."

Arnav caught the nape of her neck and brought her back down for a deeper kiss. He asked, "What about for yourself"

"Of course. Although, I do think we should set up a better work space than the recliner at Raizada House. How about---"

"---Khushi, before you begin to order furniture, I want to hear if this makes you happy."

"Of course," she repeated. Although she didn't quite understand what he meant.

He sat up, and caught her face in his hands, "I was on a perfect beach last night, and it held no pleasure because you were missing. I realized that I have worked day and night to acquire significant success, but have taken no joy in the rewards because I was alone. Now I have you, I want us to enjoy what I have achieved. I want to make significant changes to our lifestyle."

By Jalebi Jane

Originally posted by: cocoamob

Oh, how beautiful was the patching up with text messages!

"Shouldn't I be less keen?" Khushi is such and innocent sometimes and that is what makes her so endearing! Then she rushes headlong into adventure and new challenges - a real livewire!!

I read this story the first time only after you named it "Khushi" because I discovered IF much after the show ended. I remember reading that you had a story called "About last night" and I believe you renamed that Khushi. What night were you referring to there?