Tewari & Sons, 23, Chandni Chowk - THREAD V (Chp 23 19th July 2020) - Page 38

Hi Radhika,

Happy to hear from you. Sorry to hear about the loss. thanks so much for putting a note!

Take care and stay safe!

Lakshmi

Condolences for your loss. Look after your self and your family. Be safe.

So sorry for your loss. Thank you for leaving a note during these tough times. We will be here waiting for you to come back whenever you you're ready!

Take care and stay safe!

Hi All,

So, I am still not feeling like doing much. Little motivation to write. I had envisaged this chapter in 7 parts - one for each. day of the week. Monday, through Sunday. So I have decided that every day this week till Sunday I will post one part. This may or may not be satisfying for you the reader, but it will help me get over this hump that I have. You can choose to read one part at the end of each day, like an episode, or come back end of the week to catch up.

Thanks for your kind words and support.

Radhika

Chapter 23: An Evening in Nizamuddin

Monday

“I am not sure what we are doing,” Arnav muttered, half under his breath and half to his brother-in-law, with whom he had come on a shopping expedition. This was a first. He had never gone shopping with Jun Jeeju, in fact, if Anjali Di was to be believed, Jeeju did not believe in trivial things such as shopping. At least that was the reason given to him each time he was saddled with being Di’s shopping partner. So imagine his surprise when late last evening when he was still at work at AR he got a call from Jun Jeeju saying that he was organizing a cycling tour the coming Sunday, and needed to pick up a few cycles, and asked if Arnav was okay accompanying him. As requests went, it was bizarre. Why was Jeeju organising a cycling tour? What was even a cycling tour, he was unsure. He had a buttload of work to get through in the coming week. But he had no doubt that should he turn down this request, Di’s wrath would descend on him and that he could not risk. In the last two days he had already ticked off both his mother and Khushi, he could not add Di to that list, lest all the women in his life would be up in arms against him. Wait, was Khushi among the sum total of all the women in his life? He still felt unsure about where their destination was, but he was enjoying the journey. Or at any rate he was until two days back.

It happened over lunch, that they had managed to catch up on finally, after a number of hit and misses. Khushi was having a good run at Tewari & Sons, the orders were piling up and now with her father and brother both getting involved, the load was shared. They catered for a mid-sized wedding thanks to Minu Sabharwal, which in turn had led to a few more orders. She also seemed very excited at the prospect of joining Alchemy and could not wait for colleges to open in mid-June. She had a three-week breather until then, so she was in a good place. They were having lunch at Coffee House in Connaught Place. Khushi’s brief to him had been “no fancy place please”. Coffee House was a good middle ground for them, it had an old-world charm, and was both iconic as well as not intimidating by any stretch of one’s imagination. While it was originally a coffee place, the menu had been revamped over the years and now there was a lot more on offer, from South Indian food to, mughalai cuisine, to even horrific fusion. Of course, both of them settled for a plate of vadas, which they shared and a dosa each, hers with masala, and his without.

Their conversation that afternoon was a little bit of this, and a little bit of that, as their conversations often were. They discussed Payal who was in the news courtesy the massive INP revival that she was championing, they discussed their shared UP heritage, the subject on which Khushi insisted that she was a true UPite even though his grandfather was a well-regarded poet in those parts. They discussed Baig Sir and Khushi mentioned how much she missed him in her life. Baig Sir had been an influential figure in her life, almost like a parent to her, and had not forsaken her when even her own father had. Of course, this had sent Arnav into a somewhat melancholic frame of mind, seeing Khushi bring up their intertwined past always did, often with him feeling both guilt as well as helplessness.

“I am sorry, Khushi,” he had said, placing his palm on hers, and then absently playing with it. He was shaken off his reverie when a voice said,” Arnav and Chandni?”

Khushi had snatched away her hand right then and they both looked in the general direction of the voice. It was their former New-On classmates Karthik and Veena.

“Hey guys,” he got up and hugged them. Khushi did the same. He noticed the relative ease with which she interacted with them. She knew that they she was somewhat in touch with them, and even in school, had a somewhat easy-going relationship with them.

“So how come you guys are here,” Veena had asked.

“And more importantly Chandni and Mr India together, will wonders never cease,” Karthik had added.

Chandni was Karthik’s name for Khushi, because she was from Chandni Chowk, one among the many names given to her. A lot of the moniker’s given to Khushi were pretty hurtful, he got that in hindsight, but back then he hadn’t paid much attention to it. However, Chandni was among the less hurtful ones, or maybe because Karthik was the quintessential “nice” guy of the batch. In fact, he even won the coveted title of Mr Popular during their school farewell. Of course, everyone was given a title, he did not quite remember what was given to Khushi though. He had been given the title of “Mr New Ons”, a title given to the best “all-rounder”, though he was not sure he deserved that, among many of his very accomplished classmates, but he had been thrilled then, as any seventeen-year-old would be. He did not remember exactly why he was given the title of Mr India, but he could only conclude basis Chandni and Mr India, that Karthik was a Sridevi fan.

“So, when is the wedding, guys,” he asked deflecting the attention away from Khushi and him.

This worked rather well as both of them launched into a rant about how a multi-cultural wedding was a pain, Karthik’s Tamilian family and Veena’s Bengali-Punjabi family were driving them both up the wall. They were scheduled for an August wedding and were scouting for venues, when they decide do stop here for lunch.

“Don’t you have one of those wedding planner people, they take care of everything these days,” Arnav said, tempted even to offer the two of them the planner whom Payal and he had hired for their wedding. But decided against it, as that would just make this mostly light-hearted conversation needlessly awkward.

“You should ask Khushi to cater mithai for your wedding, she is now quite sought after in the South Delhi events,” he had said.

After this Veena and Karthik insisted that Khushi must cater for their wedding, and they fixed a meeting for the coming Wednesday for her to meet their families and sample a few sweets.

“But how come the two of you are hanging out,” Veena persisted one last time, as she and Karthik got up to leave.

“Oh, it is nothing, I am joining Alchemy as their sports coach, and Arnav’s family runs the sports scholarship, we were here to discuss that,” Khushi volunteered quickly.

“But I thought that scholarship was... anyway, I will call you,” Veena said to Khushi and the two of them left.

They didn’t speak for a while, after which Arnav finally said, “But why did you lie to Veena and Karthik. Are you embarrassed of me?”

He had obviously only meant this in jest, but this seemed to upset Khushi, who then signalled the waiter for the check and saying she had to leave. As they walked out, Arnav a couple of feet behind her, he thought instead of letting Khushi stew in whatever it was that ticked her off, he would ask her what was wrong. Surely their relationship had progressed to that level by now.

“Khushi, walk slowly ya, what is the matter? Are you mad at me? Did I say something wrong? Help me understand, I am sorry.”

“Arnav, please stop saying sorry all the time. I am tired of this.”

“Oh, okay. I am sorry... I mean, sure. But are you mad at me for something?”

“No, just mad at myself, which is worse,” she had said wryly.

He did not press her after that. When he offered to drop her home, she didn’t resist, so she was not that mad at him, he figured. She waved a breezy bye at him when they got to her house and before he could linger for a while longer, she was gone. He saw Renu Bhabhi look at him from Khushi’s house window, and he waved at her. She nodded, and she was gone too. Later when he had dropped Khushi a text asking if she was okay, she did not respond. It had been four days now. Ninety-six hours of radio silence. And even though he had been swamped with work, he still could not get the incident and Khushi off his mind. And that is how he had welcomed the cycle buying expedition.

“Actually Arnav, cycle was an excuse, but I really wanted to speak to you about something,” Jun Jeeju said after he had managed to pick cycle and gear that he approved of.

Of all the people he had ever expected to have the, speak to you about something conversation, he had never imagined Jun Jeeju to be one of them. And now that it was happening, he was worried.

“Sounds a little ominous, Jeeju, should I be worried?”

Jeeju didn’t say anything and shrugged instead. When they found a restaurant that served beer on this hot day, is when Jun Jeeju spoke about being fired from his job. And how he not told this to Anjali Di yet. And the worst of it, this had now been going for three weeks now. He was horrified, not about the unemployment part itself. That was a small problem, and easily fixable, but the fact that his normally oversharing sister and brother-in-law had this secret between them. A lie had to have some value to a person, what was the value of this one to his Jeeju it was not clear. When he asked just that, he realised Jeeju did not know either, at least not at a very conscious level.

“So is this Nizamuddin Cycle ride also some kind of ruse,” he asked his brother-in-law.

“What, no, Arnav. This was always a side project that I was interested in, and I am excited about it. I will tell Jhalli about everything after the event, right now need to focus on it,” Jun Jeeju said.

He did not argue but couldn’t help but feel that the distance between Monday to Sunday was a long one. A lie is never a one-time thing, it piles up, first there is one, then there is another one, and before one knows, one is caught up in a web, from which there is no easy way to dislodge oneself.

“Okay, Jeeju, your call. But they say the truth will set you free.”

Jun Jeeju had laughed and reassured him that he had all but closed one job by now and he was waiting for the offer. It was apparently some kind of think-tank, where Payal was in the Board of Directors. This sounded even more worrying to him. Though he knew Payal did not, are at any rate he did not think she would make things peersonal. But still it seemed strange that Jun Jeeju with his firmly left-wing politics, working with a place where the INP had connections.

“Anyway, don’t worry, it will all be okay. By the way why don’t you ask Khushi to come for the cycling tour?”

“Khushi?”

“Yeah, why do you sound unsure? She is an athlete, so I am sure he knows how to and will enjoy cycling. And Sufi saints, mysticism, quaint bylanes, rebels, so much history, it might be the perfect thing for you to do together?”

“I don’t think so. She won’t be comfortable,” he said, recalling their Coffee House conversation.

“She won’t? Or you are not?”

“Huh!”

“Just saying brother, invite her into this world, it is in the arms of Nizamuddin that Greater Kailash and Chandni Chowk can meet.”

“Wow Jeeju, why don’t you try your hand at poetry?”

“Haha, maybe I will have to do that if the job does not work out. But all I am saying, the truth after all, will set all of us free. That is all.”

As he drove back home, he played this conversation over and over again inside his head. What was the value of any lie? What was the value in Khushi’s lie to Veena and Karthik? What did she gain from it? He connected his phone to the Bluetooth and dialled Khushi. Her phone was unreachable.

Tuesday

“So how are things NK, a little surprised to see you here to be honest,” Aakash told NK, who had decided to come to AR, and hang out with him.

“Are you here to meet Arnav,” he asked his cousin, who had now made himself comfortable in the lounge sofa and had called the cafeteria for a chilli cheese toast.

“Why, can’t I hang out with my cousin, what wrong have I done,” NK said, needlessly dramatically.

Aakash rolled his eyes and sighed. Of course, he was right. While NK and he had never been too close, they were still cousins and their families were quite close. NK’s mother, his maami, was a favourite among everyone in the family, including his own parents. But they were never really that close. Initially because they lived in different cities and by the time NK moved to Delhi, he had moved out of the country. Of course, as children they played cricket together at the farmhouse during the summer vacations, and NK was a nifty batsman to have on the team. But their interaction was seldom very meaningful, for some reason. He liked NK, one of the most easygoing sort of person he knew, but behind those comments made in jest, was an observant person, who noticed and understood a lot. In some ways, he was like Arnav, but a lite version. He was amused by his own joke and smiled ta himself. If his cousin thought that it was strange, he did not bring it up. After NK had demolished the Chilli Cheese Toast, with extra cheese and chillis, he got up from the couch and came and sat across him.

“Aakash, you remember how some time ago there was this weird thing that happened. You know how some time ago there was this rumour doing the rounds about how someone was liquidating AR stocks?”

“Mmm hmm, yeah, what about that?”

“So I had checked with my mom at that time if she was doing anything of that sort.. no no, why would my mom do that.. you are right, but mom has no head for money, and can be gullible on that count.”

“So was it Anu Maami?” Aakash asked, somehow that seemed pretty baffling to him, pretty much the last thing that he had imagined.

“No, mom said that she had not touched her stocks since the day they were allotted to her. But last night when I was speaking with her, she said something strange, that her accountant told her that someone had sent him feelers that a majority stockholder at AR was looking at quickly liquidating his stocks. Mom found it strange, and I told her not to speak with anyone yet.”

“That is bizarre. Who could it be? Arnav?” and Aakash could not help but wonder why his cousin would suddenly need so much funds.

“What? No. I think it is Chachu,” NK said.

“Maama? Anand Raizada? The man who pretty much set up this company. Why would he even contemplate that?”

“I don’t know about all that, but have you noticed how strange he and Chachi are these days.”

“Haha, well by strange do you mean nice?”

“Exactly, strange.”

“But it still doesn’t make sense. But have you spoken to Arnav about it?”

“Not yet. I actually came here to meet him and didn’t realize he had taken the day off. Is he okay? Arnav never takes a day off!”

“He is fine. Just a mild flu. We had to literally restrain him from coming to work. He is pretty stubborn, I realised.”

“You realised that today, Aakash. What an embarrassment you are.”

They spoke about this and that after that. But he did wonder if somehow Mihir Gupta was behind this liquidating of stocks. And if Maama was in fact liquidating his stocks, no matter what his reasons be, this would put the entire AR business into a huge risk. If Anu Maami was saying this, he had no reason to believe it was not the truth. Maami was the last person to share unsubstantiated and uncorroborated information. He will have to speak to Arnav on this, because if anyone could confront Anand Raizada, it would have to be him.

“So, are you going for this Jun Jeeju’s Nizamuddin event?” NK asked, evidently his pensive mood now cleared, and he was back to being his usual cheerful self.

“I don’t know. I like cycling and history, both. But I am not sure if I can handle South Delhi in all its force,” he said and sighed. Obviously, it was a family organised event and honestly there was no escaping it, but he was not really in a mood to be accosted by the likes of Anita Chawla about his “plans”. He bore no malice towards Anita Chawla, and there was nobody more eager to know what his plans were than he himself. A few months back he was looking at being close to a scientific breakthrough. His condo in San Francisco seemed like another lifetime away. He only had a hazy memory of it. In fact the other day Anjali di had suggested that he move into his own house in Delhi, and he naturally gravitated towards checking out property listings. His dad was to retire soon, and they would move to their modern, gated community apartment in Gurgaon. It was all very confusing.

If this were not enough, there was Payal who had called him a week ago with some astonishing news. Apparently, she was now involved with a political think-tank, where she was hiring Jun Jeeju. It was weird because Payal’s INP was the Far Right and Jun Jeeju was the far Left. This morning Anand Maama had invited him to Raizada House for breakfast, because it had been a long while. He loved his Maama, and couldn’t decline. That is when he realised that Arnav was unwell, and Anjali Di was there to “cheer up Chotey”, she said. More like annoy him, he thought, smiling.

“So, Di Jeeju is sleeping with thee enemy now, eh?” he had said

“Huh? I don’t know any of these sleeping escapades of your dear jeeju, pray tell more. The wife is after all the last to know,” Di said.

“Oh him taking up the work with Payal’s think-tank,” he said, now tentatively.

“This is the first I am hearing of it,” Di had told him.

He now felt very uncomfortable, had Payal misunderstood. Had he misunderstood. Di also looked pensive now. And Anand Maama looked at both of them curiously. Anjali Di then went to check on her brother and he also decided to leave.

On his way he had called Payal, who said that her news was hundred percent confirmed. And it was surprising that Anjali Di didn’t seem to know this.

“Well maybe Anjali Di had misunderstood… it is okay. When can we meet?”

“Yeah, we should.. but I am busyish for this week.”

This had been Payal’s standard response. Busy this week, next week.. he was unsure why this was happening. And each time he wanted to not bring this up, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Aakash, you seem to be in another world,” NK interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to the present.

“Sorry, I was distracted.”

“That is alright. I am used to this living at Raizada House. I can’t even begin to tell you how distracted everyone is. Chacha, Chachi, Arnav, why even HP seems distracted to me,” his cousin said.

“That is funny, NK. What is not keeping you distracted, do tell us the secret?”

“There is no girl, or boy in my life, as the case might be,” his cousin said.

“Hmm.. romantic distraction might explain Arnav. What about Maami and Maama?”

“Oh, I don’t know.. the other big bane of our lives.. money, I suppose.”

“NK you are the calm amidst thee chaos, I would never have put you down to that guy, you know?”

“I am wise, don’t judge a book by its cover. Just because I am a good-looking bloke doesn’t mean I don’t have gravitas, you know,” NK continued.

“It must be wonderful to be you,” he told his cousin, with genuine warmth. Among all of the confused, self-loathing that he and many others were guilty of, NK was different, relatively unscathed by all the drama.

Their conversation was interrupted by someone clearing his throat, it was the famous, or was it infamous Shyam Gupta. He had an earnest sort of look about him, nothing sinister at all, yet he did not feel as comfortable seeing him around AR so often. What was Maami upto, he wondered. Surely she must be upto something, that much he was sure of.

“Hi Shyam,” he could see that a disinterested looking NK immediately perked up and turned his head towards the entrance of his cabin to see the person in question.

“I am Shyam,” he explained unnecessarily,” Khushi’s brother. Aapke baare mein bahut suna hai,”

Aakash was unsure if Khushi had that kind of relationship with her brother, to be a subject of their conversation. But he just smiled. Khushi was vague about her brother during their conversations, as she sometimes could be.

“That is nice, by the way, this is our cousin, Nand Kishore, NK,” he said making the introductions.

They exchanged pleasantries, and Poonam Maami came in as well, nodded at everyone and told Shyam as she left, “I will discuss the rest tomorrow”

After a few more awkward and polite topics, Shyam also left. On cue, it was almost telepathic, his phone rang, and it was Khushi.

“I was just thinking of you!”

“Really?” Khushi sounded a combination of suspicious, alarmed and amused.

“Your brother came to say hello, anyway, how are you?”

“I am alright. Tum se baat hi nahin ho paati. Other day I met Veena and Karthik at Coffee House, they are getting married.”

“I heard. You and I will be the last of the singles of the batch.”

“Nahin, abhi bahut hai. There is Payal, Aman, Divyesh, lots more.”

“I see that you did not mention one person,” he observed with some amusement, and curious as well.

“Who? Your cousin? Yeah, him too.”

“So I thought you must be playing nurse now, instead you are calling old friends.”

“Nurse?”

“Didn’t Arnav tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He is not well, and has taken a sick day off. This might be the first time that he apparently has taken a day off at work.”

“Oh.. is he okay?”

“Khushi, wouldn’t you rather ask him yourself?”

“I guess.”

“Call him and put an end to his misery, you know.”

“He is miserable?”

“My hunch is that he probably is.”

“Okay. You always give good advice, I will do that. You are okay?”

“Chalo, der se yaad toh aaya!”

They spoke about this and that, and then she hung up.

His cousin was still around and surprisingly quiet.

“NK all well, you have gone very quiet.. unlike you,” he added.

“That Shyam, he looks so familiar..” NK said, something that he had not expected.

“As in? He does have a very slight resemblance to Khushi, so maybe that.”

“No, no. I am pretty certain I have seen him somewhere. I just can’t tell where.”

Though he was pretty certain his cousin was imagining it, but it did get him a little worried. After all, he had literally appeared out of thin air in some ways. And while he was worried about how this might impact AR, he was more worried for Khushi. Her life seemed to be finally having some semblance of normalcy, he didn’t want it to get ruined. Not again. Who could he ask? Who could help? He finally dropped Payal a message, “Need your help on something. Meet?”

“Oh,” came her reply, and another message immediately after that said, Let’s do it.”

Wednesday

“Phone pe raho sab raho poora waqt,” Maa muttered at Baba, Shyam and Renu Bhabhi. Wednesday lunches were always ajwain puri, Mathura dubki walle aloo, and of course halwa. Khushi smiled, as her mother suffered from that peculiar mother-affliction – she would get wholly annoyed with the family if they didn’t pitch in, but was ultimately too much of a control freak to let anyone into her kitchen. Renu Bhabhi in the interest of maintaining the peace at home, would wisely refrain from getting in Ma’s way. She appreciated that quality about Bhabhi, that she stayed away from even the slightest hint of any form of kitchen politics. No matter what had transpired between Bhabhi and Shekhwat, and what she imagined was now a complex relationship with her brother, Bhabhi was always respectful towards Maa and Baba, and a caring mother to Aarav. In these complex times, one should be grateful for that, she supposed.

Khushi however pitched in the kitchen, adding some more ghee into the halwa. As a daughter, she did not fear her Maa. Not enough to be cowed down over kitchen rights. And though Maa would initially sulk, but she would get over it, and after a while begin to give detailed instructions to her daughter on what she should do and not do.

“Tu apne phone pe kyun hain hai,” Maa asked her, a little suspicious of her.

Khushi just shrugged. It was true she didn’t have her phone on her at this point. In fact, she hadn’t looked at her phone since morning. Why was she behaving like a petulant child, even she didn’t know? She was normally not prone to such theatrics and had an equanimous take on life. Why now then? What had changed? She knew the answer to that, it was made up of one word and two syllables – Arnav.

As she now distractedly stirred the halwa, she sighed. Things were fine between them, after a really long time. They no longer had to be overtly careful about what they said to each other, they bantered with relative normalcy, during conversations they had without releasing lapsed into referring to the other as “tu” – this suggested a familiarity, a lightness in their relationship. Even her brother’s unfortunate business with the Raizadas had sorted out smoothly, a bit too smoothly she couldn’t help but wonder. She really did not have a close enough relationship with her brother to ask about this, but she was curious. Sometimes she discussed it with Arnav, but he was vague on this – either because he too didn’t know, or he chose to not tell. But in spite of the ease in their relationship, it seemed that they worked best when it was just the two of them. The moment somebody else got introduced in the equation somehow, they began to crumble. A lot of this had to be with their chequered history, but also with her and the conversations that she had with herself.

Seeing Veena and Karthik brought back memories of New-Ons, where she was given a thousand names. Nobody really saw her for who she was, even the ones who were kind and friendly with her saw a version of her that they wanted to. The halwai girl, the sports girl, the quiet girl, so on. While she was part of that world, but there was a tacit understanding between her and them, that beyond the walls of New-Ons they didn’t exist for each other. It worked well for them, as they didn’t have to go out of the way to include her, and it worked well for her as she didn’t have to ever show her true self to them. Maybe that is why the other day when she had run into her former classmates, she found herself cornered, by a myth of herself that was her own creation. She didn’t want to have to explain to Veena why she and Arnav, the most unlikely of friends were now hanging out. Plus, she was worried that Arnav would be even more embarrassed because of this and might not know how to answer. She felt her contrived lie was the best way to let him off the hook as well. However, like decisions one regrets immediately after you make them, this was up there. But there was no going back, and a reasonable and hurt Arnav only amplified her own silliness – she did not want to tell him that she had done what she had done in a fit of uninspired insecurity. And before she knew it, it became a full-blown cold war between them. She began it and subjected him to the silent treatment and now it looked like, he was returning the favour. After hearing from Aakash about Arnav’s spot of ill-health, she had called him and then dropped him a message when he didn’t pick up. More calls and more messages followed, but no response. It seemed that now Arnav was stewing away, much in the same way that Maa’s Mathura Dubki Walle Aloo was.

“Shyam, aaj office nahin jaana hai,” Maa asked her brother. Office was now AR Enterprises, though her brother didn’t technically work there, but that is how Maa and Baba referred to it. Khushi also could not help but notice that her brother never corrected this.

“Aaj nahin, Poonam Madam ne chute li hai, shayad koyi ghar mein bimaar hai,” her brother said. Khushi was unsure if he had more details but did not ask him.

After lunch, that everyone agreed was better than every other Ajwain Puri and Aloo that they had in a while, Khushi cleaned up after everyone. Was Arnav ignoring her because he was very unwell? She found her anger dissipating and another kind of restlessness creep in, that of concern. Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud ringing of her phone. She made a dash for it and picked it up.

“Arnav?”

“Arrey, Dhanno number mera abhi bhi save nahi kiya?”

“Aman?”

“Yes, the one and only. How is that you are alwaysssss waiting for Arnav’s call when I call you?”

“What is alwayyyss?”

“Matlab yeh humesha walle pyaar ka chakkar kya hai?”

“Why did you call?” she asked, hoping to distract him from his usual nonsense.

“Arrey, aise hi.. I thought that I could entertain you for a bit.”

“Okay, theekh hai. How are you? How is work?”

“Entertain I said, not here to put you, or worse myself to sleep. Why are you so strange?”

“Tum se kam hi hoon.”

“Wah, sassy.. where was this Khushi in New-Ons.”

“I don’t know, I guess I left her behind in Chandni Chowk,” she said automatically, surprisingly herself with her candour.

“Ouch Khushi, you are secretly a poet. Who would have thought?”

“You don’t know me as well as you think, maybe?”

“Come now, nobody knows you. Full on Mystery Woman you were, still are.”

“Kuch bhi. But how are you? All okay with you?”

“Of course. Why do you ask? Did Arnav tell you something?”

“About?”

“Nothing.”

“Well you are night on that, Arnav says nothing.”

“Uh-huh, Dhanno and Basanti ke beech jhagda?”

“Have you even watched the movie Sholay? Koyi jhagda nahi hai.”

“If you say so, but my sixth sense is never wrong. Will you be there for the Nizamuddin event this Sunday?”

“What event?”

“Arrey re, Arnav ne nahin bataya? That is bad. Matlab, even I got invited.”

“Okay, must be some South Delhi thing.”

“You are a snob, you know that na Basanti?”

“Dhanno,” she corrected him automatically.

Their conversation went a bit here and a bit there. It was hard to believe that this boy, whose suicide attempt she was accused of abetting was someone with whom so many years down the line she was having a conversation with. Khushi also had a sudden epiphany right then, perhaps Aman too was somehow not being his authentic self at New-Ons, and maybe he needed to get out of it to thrive and grow. Maybe they were kindred spirits, he was the Veeru to her Jai. Maybe she was wrong in holding her fifteen-year-old classmates more accountable than it was fair. After all, they all had their struggles, beyond their privilege. She should check on Arnav.

“Acha, I have to hang up now, need to speak with Arnav. Kuch aur hai kya” she finally said.

“Whom am I to come between love,” Aman said, in his characteristic Aman way.

“Tujhe jo sochna hai, tu soch.”

“Agar tu permission bhi nahin deti, toh bhi main wohi sochta jo mujhe sochna hai.”

After some more bantering, she hung up.

Dial Arnav.

No answer.

She sent him a text, “Hi, Arnav. Are you feeling better? I wanted to speak with you, but I guess you are either tired, busy or angry with me. If is the third, I am sorry for behaving so immaturely the other day. It is very strange; I don’t normally do this. In fact, in New-Ons I was given the title Ms Wisdom, not sure I deserve that though. Anyway, have not spoken properly to you in a while, call me whenever you are free, and want to.”

The time was four pm. Soon it was five. The sun set. She tallied the accounts for the day. She watched the news. Dinner was a light affair, of some dalia khichdi, that Maa allowed Renu Bhabhi to put together. She helped Aarav with his Summer Holidays homework and got him to sleep. The time was ten in the night. Soon it was eleven and she decided to sleep. She checked her phone, still nothing.

Just before midnight, when she had fallen asleep, her phone glowed, and she picked it up. It was a text from Arnav.

Hi, Khushi, it said. And after a rather long ellipsis …………. I miss you too.

Thursday

“Are you okay?” her mother’s voice interrupted her very, very faraway thoughts.

“I am okay, mom,” she told her mother, wondering why her mother was home during a weekday afternoon. It was part of the weird metamorphosis that the formidable Poonam Raizada had gone in the last few months.

“I had to go the hospital, that is why I didn’t go to work today,” her mother said, as if she had read here thoughts.

“Oh are you okay? Is Arnav okay?”

“Yes, I am fine, and Arnav is okay too, though being uncharacteristically mopey,” her mother said wryly.

She had noticed that about her brother when she was home the other day as well, he did seem a little down and out and it wasn’t just the fever. She had been so shocked and distressed by Aakash’s revelation that she did not ask him much.

Sigh. The Aakash revelation as it went had thrown her mostly uncomplicated world into a tizzy. They were not the type of couple who would keep secrets from one another. Early on they had made that promise to each other. That there will be good humour and honesty in the way they would be. She had seen her own parents have a what she would call a complicated relationship because they operated on a strictly half-truths basis. The left hand would not know what the right hand was doing, was par for the course in her house. Yet, they had all the external trappings of basically running what could at best bee called a well-oiled machinery. To their children and Aakash, who for the most part lived with them, they never let on that things were anything but less than perfect in their lives. They were not always like that. When she was young, though Arnav doesn’t remember much of it, their parents entertained a lot. They were a good-looking couple, threw some fun parties, with wine and conversations in plenty. But somewhere all this gave way to a malady of busyness. Suddenly nobody had time for each other and began to live in their little bubbles. But with bubbles came the omissions, the little white lies that adults tell each other. She never wanted that between herself and Jun. She saw her parents’ marriage as a cautionary tale of sorts. Which is why she was very worried when her brother wanted to marry Payal, they seemed too similar to her parents. She was in fact relieved when that wedding was called off. She loved her brother, but this wasn’t a match. It was her this meddlesomeness that Jun liked to call, the one point of contention that was there between her husband and her. So him hiding the fact that he had been fired and that he was all but signed up for his next job with an organisation that was funded by someone who was his ideological opposite very distressing. When she had confronted him that evening, he had not denied anything.

“I am sorry, Jhalli, I shouldn’t have lied.”

Shouldn’t. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Those things interested her lesser than the why of it. Why did her husband feel the need to lie.

“I don’t know. It started as something to give you space on a tough day, and then it piled on. I really don’t know,” Jun had said.

She decided that she needed to clear her head, and thus came to Raizada House, hoping to talk to her brother, but got waylaid by her mother.

“So who is in the hospital?” she asked, remembering their original conversation.

“Anjali, there is something that I have wanted to tell you and Arnav, but we didn’t want to alarm you.”

More lies, she thought. But from her parents, that was not very surprising truth be told.

“What is it, mom? Is everything okay?” she was concerned by the worried creases on her mother’s face.

“It is dad. He is unwell,” she finally said.

“Oh okay. Has he caught the same thing that Arnav has? Must be some bug.”

Her mother didn’t reply and instead summoned HP to clear the chai cups and asked him if Bade Saheb was ready. Dad looked cheerful for someone going to the hospital.

“Dad, you look fine. What is wrong,” she demanded, walking up to him.

“I am okay, just a few niggles, need to meet the doctor and ask him, that is all. This Sunday let’s do dinner at Raizada House, mom and I had to discuss something with all of you.”

Somehow she felt queasy about the whole situation. But she knew better than to probe her parents, the more she did that, the more likely they were to clam up and go even more quiet and distant.

“Sure, dad, you guys are coming for Jun’s shindig, right?” she asked her parents as they got up to leave.

“Of course,” they said in unison, and smiled at each other as they left.

This moment, between her parents, made her feel both warm and alarmed in equal measure.

“HP, Arnav Bhaiya kahan hai,” she said picking up her bag, and heading towards the kitchen.

“Terrace mein hain. Wahin pe aise hi sust pade hain.” HP said, adding his vishesh tippani. She smiled and wondered what her brother was doing in the terrace. She climbed up to the terrace of Raizada Mansion, she was unsure when was the last time she had stepped foot there. When she reached she saw her brother giving the plants a trim. The garden looked lovely. This was one of the things her brother obsessed about – plants. She had no clue where he got it from, but he could identify all varieties of flowers and took great pride in growing vegetables. Occasionally she would get a share of the bounty, odd-shaped onions, super fat carrots, dhania that was the size of a tree, etc.

“Arnav, you are supposed to be resting, stop playing momma to your stupid plants.”

“Don’t call them stupid,” he said scowling.

“Okay. I needed to give you some breaking news. You won’t even guess what has happened. I am so livid,” she started saying, already getting worked up at the prospect of discussing this with anyone.

She had managed to get her brother’s attention, as he put away his plant shears and washed his hands.

“What is it? Better not be something silly?” her brother said, in a warning note.

“It is your beloved brother-in-law.”

“What has he done now?”

“He has been fired from his job and is taking up a job to work with Payal. Imagine. I mean the last month when we wanted to buy a humidifier, he made a pros and cons list. And something as big as this and he couldn’t tell me. Arnav, what should I do?”

“I know, it is upsetting, and unfathomable honestly, as why would Jeeju do this... I told him just that.”

“You KNEW it? Aakash did. Payal did. Only I didn’t know. And I expected you to tell me this, Arnav.”

“Calm down. You are right. He told me earlier this week, he also said that he would tell you himself. I didn’t feel it was my place to tell. Please di, understand, I had zero agenda,” her brother said rather forlornly.

Mom was right, he looked mopey. And this was not his fault, it was her husband’s fault, and he needed to take responsibility for it.

“Are you feeling better now? Why do you look so sad?” she asked, observing her brother closely.

“I am not sad,” he said sounding impatient.

“Maybe you are not, then tell your face that. Even mom noticed your sadness, you must be really sad.”

“Stop giving mom a tough time. She is going through something.”

“And are you going to tell me what that is, or is that also not your place to say,” she said now mirroring his scowl.

“Na, I mean, I have a strong hunch that something is wrong, I just don’t know what. And I feel it is not business, but I could be wrong,” her brother said.

“Hmm, you are on to something. Because we have been summoned for a Sunday dinner where the parental unit evidently want to have a talk with us.”

“Really? Sounds ominous.”

“My sentiments exactly. So why does your face look sad?”

“I don’t know, must be the virus. Though feeling better today.”

“What is the doctor saying?”

“Nothing. Tests have ruled out Dengue and Malaria.”

“What about Loveria? The true source of your Khushi these days. Get it?”

“Di, shut up. I think I will go to work after all.”

After her brother left the terrace, she surveyed the garden one last time before leaving too. It looked beautiful, and there was a calmness, but something told her that trouble was around the corner. Her instincts were strong on this one.

Friday

“Madam, you will need to move to the waiting area,” the attender told her sheepishly.

She nodded and muttered a of course under her breath and then moved to the waiting area. In spite of the apologetic attender at the hospital she was not the type of person who would not follow rules or expect any special concessions to be made for her because of her privilege. She liked to queue up and let everyone do their work. It annoyed her endlessly when people didn’t follow basic rules and discipline, which if you lived long enough in a city like Delhi you would know that it is impossible to get people to conform.

At the waiting area, it wasn’t as crowded as usual. Friday was never popular for chemotherapy sessions; she was not sure why. Maybe there was a religion angle to it, she wasn’t familiar with. Or maybe because the days following chemo are tough on the body and people don’t want their weekends to be spent with a metallic taste in their mouths or the excruciating pain. Either way, this was the last chemo session for Anand. And hopefully he would be in remission after this. That was the only way.

Anand and she discussed that it was time to tell the family now, they were probably going to be shocked, hurt even, and rightly so, but hopefully with time they would see the reason why they chose to do it this way. Or maybe they wouldn’t, but at this point there was no do-overs. She looked at the magazine racks and picked up an old copy of the Vogue. As she was flipping through it carelessly, her attention was suddenly caught by a familiar face on one of the pages. She paused and sure enough it was her son, a profile of him – Young Turks taking the fashion scene by storm was the title. She flipped to check the cover and saw that it was a two-year-old cover. Her son had made it into Vogue, and she didn’t know that? Why did her son never tell her that? She wondered if Anand knew it. Or Anjali? She was pretty certain that her daughter knew this. She was more of a mother-figure to Arnav than she was. Arnav and Anjali were not that close when they were younger. Anjali was somewhat flighty and Arnav more earnest and a conformist. Of course, Arnav was easier to manage and parent as a result. He was not a doormat, he had opinions, strong ones, but he had a quiet confidence, was in control of things. Though she sometimes wondered if she had given more attention to Arnav, and if Anand had not divided the little attention, he had to give between Aakash, Anjali and Arnav, if her son would have turned differently. Maybe there would have been a lightness to him then, and while he might have been a lesser person as a result, he would have been happier. Arnav had that ability, of doing the right thing. And when in the rare instance he did something wrong, he would blame himself so much, but also make all efforts to correct. Like in the case of Khushi, where the blame wasn’t even his. The last few months this episode kept coming back to her, in light of the new closeness between her son and Khushi. But again, there was not much that she felt that she herself could do, even if she so desired. Arnav was going to be the most affected by the news.

The loudspeaker now announced another name - Ajay Bajaj. Each time a patient was taken for their chemo, the loudspeaker would announce their name. The caregiver then was allowed to move from the waiting room to a room close to the chemo lab, the idea was to be close to the patient as much as possible, to give them a sense that someone was around, waiting for them. She checked with the floor nurse, Anand Raizada was slated after another eight patients, there was plenty of time. This was to happen yesterday itself, which is why they left though Anjali had come to visit. But while on their way, the hospital had called in saying Anand was rescheduled for Friday as an emergency case had come in. She had been annoyed at this, she did not like tardiness, but Anand was more forgiving, saying at least he was not an emergency case. That was a sobering thought and she agreed. They decided to go have an ice cream instead.

The C-Word, aka Carcinoma, Cancer had brought one positive with it – brought her and her husband closer than ever. It was strange that over the years, a distance had crept into their relationship, partly because of their very different personalities, and also because they were both too consumed with the ambition of making their business grow. Though in the early days, things were fie, when the ambition was a shared one. But as time went, she remained ambitious about their business, but Anand was more and more distant about it. Golf became his full-time job and passion. She had seen this happen with too many South Delhi husbands, but except that in their case, they were either second or third generation businesses, and were profiting off the efforts of their fathers, or retired old men, who didn’t want to spend time at home watching TV. But Anand had made the transition to Golfer as early as in his forties. She had always been a little resentful of this aspect, especially because when he was involved in the business, it always benefited from his brilliant mind. He was a natural at this, Arnav got that from him. Anand was also wholly disengaged with the business, which also Arnav had inherited from his father. This business of not working to their potential was something that upset her. But the cancer had made them hit a reset button and now there was honesty, respect, transparency, and she would daresay love in tehri relationship. And ice-cream stopovers. She sighed and put away the magazine, not before clicking a photo on her phone of her son’s profile.

Things were moving slowly today. She found a text from Vijay, the admin at AR. It said, Shyam Gupta is here, he has gone to Roy’s office.

She responded with an Okay.

There was the whole Mihir Gupta fiasco to still unpack and bring the family up to speed. They would do that during the Sunday dinner. It was strange that Shyam, Khushi’s brother had proved to be an ally in these times. It was indeed very strange. Shyam was a smart guy, in a very street way, and had a gift of gab, which she found both annoying, but amusing. He reminded her of her father-in-law in some ways, who had this loaded and cryptic way in which he spoke. Except that her father-in-law was a poet, Shyam was a part-timer – he was a trained lawyer, he helped run Khushi’s shop, he helped his dad on his new business, he was in cahoots with Mihir Gupta, and now he was AR’s double agent of sorts. He was ambitious, and his moral compass was intact, albeit a little dodgy. Khushi was a contrast in comparison. Again, not liking the direction of her thoughts and feeling restless, she decided to get herself a soda at the canteen, which was on the same floor.

The canteen, unlike the rest of the hospital was cheerful and noisy. The people – doctors, nurses, hospital staff, patients, their caregiver, all talking noisily and sometimes there were loud chuckles as well. The menu on offer was also competing with what would be on offer at a fancy restaurant. She even found mushroom risotto listed as one of the options. She went and stood on a queue that seemed the shortest. As luck would have it, a young man, in all his entitled glory went ahead and parked himself at the front of the line. People in the line muttered and mumbled, though nobody told him anything.

“Bhai Saheb, hum aise time pass ke liye thori line mein lage hain,” a young woman said and the young man now suitably chastised, covered his eyes with his sunglasses, though they were indoors, and went and joined the line.

Bravo, she thought, and when the young woman turned behind, probably to see if the man had joined the line at the end, their eyes met – it was Khushi.

“Poonam Ma’m. Aap theekh hai?” Khsuhi asked her, with a voice that is tentative.

“Yeah, I am fine. It is your turn,” she said looking ahead.

She noticed that Khushi bought a tea and seemed happy when she got a cookie along with it.

Yeh free hai? She had asked doubtfully.

She also managed to get her soda and for reasons not known to her, she told Khushi that a table next to the door was vacant and they could sit there. She was pretty sure that Khushi didn’t want to share a table with her, but there was no way out for her.

“Ma’m why are you in the hospital? Is everything okay?”

“I am fine. Arnav is okay too,” she added for measure, wondering if that is why Khushi looked a little anxious.

“Oh, okay,” Khushi said. She noticed that she did not pry. She appreciated that.

“So how is your shop going? Will you continue that when college begins?”

“Yes, Ma’m, it is my shop, I will continue for as long as it can be at least. The shop will turn sixty years old next year Ma’m, I can’t let it die.”

She found a surprising commonality in her and Khushi’s predicament. How much she had misjudged this girl.

“Your brother can help too, right?”

“Yes, Ma’m, he helps,” Khushi said, and she sensed not enough conviction in her voice.

“You are very different from your brother,” she volunteered, and immediately wondered what prompted her to say so.

“Yes, Ma’m,” Khushi agreed taking the last sip of her tea. Again she noticed that Khushi did not ask how she was different, and she was grateful.

And just then the speaker announced “Anand Raizada”.

She rushed to the chemotherapy ward immediately and noticed that Khushi had followed her. Evidently Anand was out of his chemo session.

“Are you okay,” she asked, helping him get up from the wheelchair. But her husband looked over her head and said, Khushi.

Khushi came closer to them and helped her with here bag, while she helped her husband. They walked towards the elevator, not saying anything. Once they reached the hospital lobby, she took her phone and instructed the driver to come. The car arrived quickly thankfully and the driver helped Anand get on to the front seat.

“Is uncle okay,” Khushi asked, this time probing.

She turned towards her and told her, “Today was his last chemo session. He has Cancer of the bladder. We have done everything, now we have to wait.”

And then for no reason, in the middle of a busy hospital foyer she found a flood of tears take over her. Khushi immediately reached for her and hugged her and patted her on her head, and said something to the effect of sab theekh ho jaayega. It took her a minute to realise and she moved away, towards the car door.

“I am sorry Khushi,” she said embarrassed.

“It is okay, Ma’m. You should leave, other cars are waiting. Bye uncle,” Khushi waved at Anand, who smiled at her.

As she got into the car and rode out of the hospital, she caught her husband’s eye on the rear-view mirror.

“Now what?”

“We will see,” she said.

“You know, it is not right to burden Khushi with the burden of the truth,” her husband said.

“I know.”

“Will she tell, Arnav?”

“I don’t know. The children will need to hear first from us.”

“Right. Why does she call you Ma’m by the way? Shouldn’t she call you aunty?”

She didn’t answer her husband but leaned her head back. Yes, she could have given Khushi the permission to call her aunty, but she hadn’t. She didn’t know why that she couldn’t. Maybe one syllable change from Ma’m to Mom might be on the cards soon, she thought wryly.

“By the way what was Khushi doing at Apollo Cancer Hospital?”

Why indeed, she thought. She suddenly realised that not once had she asked Khushi why she was there at the hospital.

Saturday

Arnav

Arnav woke up with a start, he looked at the watch by his bedside and the time was ten past five in the morning. He normally would rise early, but since the viral attack that he had, it was tough. Even though he was better now, he was always very tired. He had been woken up the phone of his going off. He picked his phone and saw that it was a missed call from Payal. Why was Payal calling him, he wondered, and that too at this hour. He remembered from the many times that he had known her, she was an early riser, but still this was too old to be calling your former fiancé. He got up to wash his face and brush his teeth, when he came back to his room, his phone was ringing again. Again Payal.

“Payal?”

“Hi Arnav, sorry to call you so early in the day, but this is urgent, and I needed to speak with you.”

“That is alright. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am okay. So you know how INP runs a paper right, the Voice of India.”

Yes, he knew that. This was Samar Singh’s initiative, something he began to help the party reach out to their voters, and present a human side of INP, which had for many years now caught the heart of the urban, young voter. Of course, like all newspapers, they covered a wide plethora of news, from sports, to entertainment, to business, and tried to have a pretence of being non-partisan. But why did any of this warrant a five am call he wondered.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“So, now I am managing the paper and this morning I came to look at the proof of the weekend edition, when I saw a peculiar anonymous tip that was sent to one of our reporters.”

“Okay? What tip?”

He was beginning to get impatient now, was this again some unsubstantiated piece about the Raizadas. Even though it was likely to be annoying, but ultimately it didn’t quite matter.

“So, I mean, it is strange, and worrying. I mean, I killed the news, but I thought you should know.”

Wow! Payal was really struggling to say whatever it is that she wanted to, he was a little alarmed because of how un-Payal like she was being in the moment.

“What is it, Payal?” He hoped his voice didn’t sound exasperated, whatever be the news that she had evidently killed, she was looking out for his family’s interests, and for that he had to be grateful.

“So, the tip was about your father.”

“Okay. Saying?” He wondered if this was something to do with Mihir Gupta.

“It said that Anand Raizada was suffering from an advanced stage of cancer and that AR Enterprises might be up for grabs as the next generation has not shown much initiative and interest, and that Aman Sabharwal is the front runner for this acquisition.”

Arnav was stunned. On all three counts, that his friend might take over the company, that the company needed taking over, and of course that news about his dad. As far as mischief planted news stories went, this was just cruel.

“Is Anand Uncle okay?”

“Yes,” he said, but did he know it for sure, he really couldn’t say.

“Okay, good. Anyway, I thought you should know. I am not sure if the person who leaked this reached out to other publications or not, but we are not publishing it.”

“I understand. And Payal thanks for looking out for my family.”

“Of course, the world is sometimes a piece of shit, you take care,” Payal said and hung up.

If he was not feeling as destroyed and confused by what he had just learnt, he would have asked Payal what she meant about the world being a piece of shit.

He came down to the dining area and found HP already up and about working.

“HP, mom aur dad uth gaye kya?”

“Aapko nahin pata? Who dono kal raat ko Chatarpur farmhouse chale gayein?”

“Magar kab? Kyun?”

“Aap phone kar lo? Kal savere wapas aayeenge, waisa bola.”

He dialled his dad’s number and got no answer. He dialled his mother who picked up the call on the first ring.

“Arnav. Are you okay? Why so early in the morning?”

“Mom, why are you guys at the farmhouse? Why didn’t you’ll tell me?”

“Oh, you know it is the Rotary meet and event, right? We had decided to do it at the farmhouse this time. You were not well and had gone to sleep early, so I told Anjali and we left. Sorry.”

All of that sounded wholly plausible. But still. Should he ask his mother about the “rumour”, or would do that add to her distress, which would be uncool given that she finally seemed to be doing something fun, or at any rate something that was not work related.

“Anjali?”

“Yes, she is at Raizada House, with Thumpa.”

“Oh, mom there is something we need to talk about, we will discuss tomorrow, I guess.”

“Your dad and I also wanted to talk, yes, let’s do it tomorrow.”

“Will you guys be in time for the Nizamuddin event?”

“Of course. Arnav, have you invited Khushi for the event?”

He had not, because she was not responding to his texts. And now he was also a little annoyed with her blow hot and blow cold.

“No, mom. Not sure she would want to come.”

“But you must.”

“I must?”

There were some very weird stuff he had heard his mother say, but this was right up there.

“Of course, you should. My mistakes are just mine, Arnav. You must learn from the past, else you are doomed to make the same mistakes.”

“Mom, that sounds like something Salman Khan would say.”

“Who is Salman Khan?”

“It doesn’t matter, mom. You and dad have a good time.. by the way, what did the doctor say?”

“He is fine, he is out playing golf with Shivam.”

“Okay, will see you tomorrow then.”

Everything seemed normal. On the face of it. But someone, somewhere was lying. Who could it be?

He picked up his phone and called Khushi. She did not answer.

He dropped her a text and said, “Please call me when you see this. Please.”

Two pleases, there wasn’t much more that he could do.

He picked up the invite lying on the table – An evening in Nizamuddin, promising history of the cobbled lanes, food and fun. He was looking forward to it actually. It had been a rough week and they all could do with a change. Now if only Khushi would pick up her damn phone. He had half a mind to drive to Chandni Chowk right now and speak with her, but that seemed overtly dramatic and like a bit of a stalker.

“HP, chai pila do, main terrace pe rahoonga.”

Khushi

She was feeling very fidgety and kept playing with the pen in her hand. She was helping her ward Ankita with maths and had woken up early to set a test for her. And while normally maths brought joy to her, but today she was too distracted. And her cause for all the distraction was – Arnav.

First was Arnav’s I miss you too message, it had left her confused. Did he misconstrue her message to begin with? Was he making fun of her? Was he actually serious? If it was the first two, she was mad at herself and him both. If it was the third, it seemed too much. How could something like that be true. Can someone like Arnav, who was busy, so popular, so good-looking, so sought after, find anything in her that would make him miss her. It seemed like a fantasy somehow.

But as she thought about it, she felt her doubts slowly dissipating. Perhaps some of it was wishful thinking on her part, but she also knew that Arnav had made genuine efforts to reach out to her, to thaw her, and make her feel whole again in some ways. He had taken more responsibility of correcting the wrongs than anyone else had, her own father, his mother. He definitely shared a lot with her, opening up to her about the mundane, to the extraordinary things that happened in his life. He almost treated her like his confidante. And though she wanted to play it cool, but she also basked in the warmth of being seen, heard and validated. And she felt at some level that the distance between them was bridging, emotionally at least – no matter the social and physical distance might be impossible to bridge. As she began to find her own feelings evolve and just as she was about to call Arnav and apologize for her blow hot and blow cold ways, another curveball came her way.

Which made her think about the current source of her confused predicament, Poonam Raizada. It was shocking to see Poonam and Anand Raizada at Apollo Cancer. She had seen Anand Raizada at First Care Hospital sometime back, but this seemed serious. And she wondered why Arnav had not told her about it. Surely when he was sharing so much from his life, this would be something that he would. And there was nothing in his manner or mood that suggested that he was going through something so big. This of course made her wonder if Arnav even knew anything, as he did say on many occasions how secretive his family could be. But would parents hide something so big from their children? Actually, they could and would, she knew that.

She wondered why Arnav was calling her so early in the morning. And should she bring up her meeting. His parents yesterday. Was it even her place to do so? If his parents had not told Arnav, then it was not her news to share. And if he knew this and had not shared with her, it was not her business to pry. She called him back.

“Arnav, how are you feeling?”

“Finally! I had given up!”

“Given up?”

“Yes. It was something that Aakash once inadvertently said to me?”

“Aakash?”

“I know it is early in the morning and you are being a little slow but stop repeating everything I say.”

“Okay. Why did you call? What did Aakash say?”

“Which question should I answer first?”

“What?”

“Okay, let it be. Aakash said that if Khushi wants to stay lost, she will stay lost.”

“What does that mean? It sounds like something Salman Khan would say.”

He laughed at this, quite heartily, like he was genuinely amused. It was nice to hear this side of Arnav, like he had somehow opened up his heart. To her. Was she ready to do that too?

“I said the exact same thing to my mom when I called her this morning, in a different context.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“As in, she is at our farmhouse, for some event. Anyway, there is a cycling event happening at Nizamuddin tomorrow, my brother-in-law Arjoon is organizing it. It is a charity event. What will I need to say and do to convince you to come?”

“I will be there.”

“Wait, what? Why? How?”

“You don’t. want me to come?”

“No, I mean, of course I want you to come. I just thought you would make me work harder for it.”

“I will be there, it sounds nice.”

“Okay, I needed to talk to you about something.”

“Me too.”

“Oh, all okay?”

She thought of the image of Poonam Raizada, her tormenter of all these years, looking so vulnerable, leaning on her. No, all was not okay, but a phone call wasn’t the right way to have this conversation.

“I think so.”

“Okay. Khushi, I am glad you have stopped ignoring me.”

“I am glad too.”

She hung up and moodily stared at her nails, maybe she should paint them. Renu Bhabhi had a huge collection of nail-paints, she could ask her to let her use one of those. Her thoughts were interrupted by someone opening the front door. She came out of her room and found that Shyam was ready to head out.

“Aap itna subah kahan ja rahin hain, Bhaiya?”

“Arrey Poonam Ma’m ne bulaaya hai, toh office ja raho hoon.”

Her brother smiled at her, waved and closed the door behind hime.

Didn’t Arnav say that his mother was at the farmhouse. What was going on?

Sunday

It was a beautiful Sunday evening. Though end of May, the weather was perfect. The sun was out, but there was a breeze too, keeping things cool.

The who is who of South Delhi was there. The press was there. There was something beautiful and atmospheric about this place. His beautiful wife was chatting with Aman, him trying to charm her, and she looking wholly unimpressed. His son’s ex fiancé was there, in conversation with his daughter and son-in-law, but her eyes pinned on him for some reason. He always found Payal disconcerting, now more than ever. His nephew Aakash seemed to have all his attention directed at Payal, this was an interesting development. His other nephew NK was charming a bevy of South Delhi Aunties. He could not hear what NK was saying, but the ladies looked charmed. Kashyap’s daughter was there, with her Army fellow husband, they were a good-looking couple. There were beautiful people all around.

But his eyes were transfixed on that young couple, a little away from the rest of the crowd, in the side lines. The young woman hoisted up her sari and got on the bike.

“You are wearing a sari,” the young man told the young woman.

“Yeah, so?” she said, looking defiant.

“I mean, you look lovely, of course. But how will you cycle in a sari?”

“Big deal, I can, watch me,” she said.

And she did. The young man watched her, mesmerized. The paparazzi present managed to find their money shot of the day. He remembered the lines from a poem that seemed apt for this situation.

But always, when the worst
had passed, we returned at
last, to where we’d been, some
where near Dilshad Garden,
by the blessings of Nizamuddin

And after this thought Anand Raizada felt his heart break, quite literally, and he collapsed.

Than you soooo much for penning this story, among all the chaos. I as a reader really appreciate this. The story is going great and keeps the curiosity breathing. well done writerji.

Originally posted by: YellowBoots

Hi All,

So, I am still not feeling like doing much. Little motivation to write. I had envisaged this chapter in 7 parts - one for each. day of the week. Monday, through Sunday. So I have decided that every day this week till Sunday I will post one part. This may or may not be satisfying for you the reader, but it will help me get over this hump that I have. You can choose to read one part at the end of each day, like an episode, or come back end of the week to catch up.

Thanks for your kind words and support.

Radhika

May the force be with you! I know this is a difficult time, so wish you all the strength.

And one thing you should quit worrying about is this, you always manage to draw us in, entangle us in this world you have created. Leaving us wondering, wanting more.

Take care.

good to see you continue.......i thought again you are taking a break....

chapter was fabulous, but we need more...

I really don't mind daily updates other than the suspense killing me. :D

Here I thought Arnav did something like lying in front of Veena & Karthik or is it because Arnav had deflected earlier from answering them that she lied. Khushi can totally do this thinking Arnav may not want to tell their batchmates that they hang together usually.

Arnav is right. Monday to sunday is a long time. Jun needs to tell his Jhalli about being unemployed. It's a big thing which a couple should share.

A bike ride together seems like a good date idea now if only Khushi picks his call.

Welcome back Radhika..I am fine with whatever you give us 😁 now going back to reading ..will be back with more comments tomorrow