FF- Love You Eternally - chapter 25 & 26 the final chapter - Page 53

Chapter 15

The girls who had followed them stood shock still and Payal frightened gasp, alerted the men of their presence. "I told you to stay there." Arnav barked furious.

"Well we are not damsels in distress that need protecting." Khushi shot back. Payal whimpered clearly frightened she clutched Khushi hand tightly making her wince.

"Well I don't really believe in all this hocus pocus stuff, or ghosts or goules." Said Kamya, shrugging and walking off.

Payal clung to Khushi even as she tried to free her arm. Arnav indicated to Akaash with his head and Akaash stepped forward and put his arm around Payal's shoulder. He gently prised her finger from Khushi arm. And speaking gently to her guided her away and into the courtyard.

Arnav, Khushi and Rohit were left alone. "What is going on Arnav?" Khushi demanded to know.

"I can't tell you what I don't know myself." Arnav replied he sighed in frustration. He looked around and then at the window on the third floor. And walked away.

Khushi and Rohit looked at each other worried, "Khushi I've never seen you look at anybody that way before." Rohit said.

"That's because I've never felt like this before." She sighed.

"Are you sure this is what you want, this guy is not normal, there is something haunted about him." Rohit said his voice full of concern.

"I can't help how I feel, I know there's more then what he is telling, he knows a lot more than he is letting on, I know that, and what I feel stems from that. It's inevitable, and whatever it is I'm willing to face it with him." Khushi said taking a determined breath, "I must."

"Ok them, I'm with you." Rohit put his arm around her shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze. Khushi smiled in gratitude. "So what are you thinking?"

"you know me so well." Khushi grinned. "I'm not going to get any answers from the ASR, he is hell bent of protecting me, so I will find the answers myself."

"How?"

"By doing what I do best, Research." She grinned and walked off in search of Vishal Dev.

Arnav and Akaash worked at the Havali, with most of the A & I staff. the time passed without incident. Everybody decided to stick together and not wander alone. Khushi was working in the study, after she had spent two hours talking to Buvan Lal and his family. She had returned deep in thought. She had spent the rest of the time checking out the journal, stored in the study. She learnt a lot about the Raichand family that had originally owned the Havali, before it had been taken over by the government as a guest house.

She tried to find out everything she could about the Raichand family. Finding the reality on the people who once lived in such grand and lavish style, attached to such opulent homes was a passion for Khushi, her love for old Architecture stamped from there.

Reading feverishly, as she made notes and organises pictures and entries. She had found a bunch of family photographs, group photographs of men after a hunting trip, and the odd thing in most of the pictures was that one person was either cut out or scratched out, like somebody had deliberately and angrily cut out this person

Form the journals she had deduced the name of the family members, the Zamindar Yashyant Singh Raichand, was the last Zamindar to own the Havali and the lands around it, the Zamindari had been bequeathed to his grandfather in 1864 by the British viceroy, on orders of Queen Victoria, as a reward for assisting the British during the 1857 uprising. Yashyant Singh was a British loyalist, and enjoyed very good relationships with and number of British officers, a list in the journals indicated that they were gifted with fruit baskets from the Zamindar's orchards. But he was a just man, and looked after the local people as well. Providing well, from his land and fields.

The Zamindar had one daughter Vashnavi Raichand who was married off in a Zamindar family in Jodhpur. There were details entries in the journal with regard to the wedding preparation and two sons, Shayamraj Singh Raichand, and a younger son Arnavya Singh Raichand. This was the name that struck Khushi.

From the family pictures she could tell the well stocky built man with the thick beard, and proud stature dressed to the nine in silk embroidery sharevani, head adorned with turban decorated with pearls, broach and feather. The women dressed in heavy Banarasi sarees, and heavy jewellery looked aristocratic. A young stocky man with a sullen face, and resentful eyes stood slightly behind the Zamindar throne like chair. This she guessed was the infamous Shayamraj Singh Raizada. And there was another man, a lean, but powerful built man, his body posture aristocratic and confidant. He stood behind the Zamindar and his wife a hand placed on both their shoulders. What struck Khushi most was that his face had been angrily cut out or scratched out of the numerous photographs, not one giving a look of his face, This had to be the other brother, Arnavya. Somebody really hated this man that he wanted to remove his existence even from the family album. And Khushi had some idea who.

Seeking her out Arnav found Khushi in the study, sitting at the huge desk which was piled neck high with thick large books. His "What the?" had Khushi popping her head up, seeing him she gave him dazzling smile, that left his head a little fuzzed. "You have been busy, find anything interesting."

"Loads You don't mind that I'm looking into the Havali's history?"

" Err... Dev explained to me that research is a part and parcel of the restoration on building that is 150 year old." He dragged a chair to her side of the table and settled near her.

"Right it is, where ever you live or make a home, you leave a part of yourself in the walls of the house. Every room has a story to tell, about all the people who lived in it. Stories of happiness, pain, feuds, love." She said getting a dreamy look in her eyes, he watched her fascinated.

She grinned at him, and leaned back in the chair, stretching like a feline. Arnav's eyes darkened as he watched her throw her hands over her head, stretched her legs forward and arched her back. Her full breast sticking out, each curve beautifully defined. Arnav gulped hard, and curled his hands into fists, stuffing them into his pocket, praying for control. "You know if you closer your eyes and shut your mind of any other thoughts, you will be able to here the laughter of children, giggles of women and their anklets tinkling as they run along the corridors, you can hear men speaking of farming and hunting."

"Really you can hear all of that?" Arnav asked in wonder. In this particular Havali he felt those things she just described.

"That is what fascinate me about old buildings. The story's they have to tell."

"Interesting, so what has this house been telling you."

She beaming with excitement she shifted through the stack of journals, "this is what I found in the journals, names are mentioned, members of the family. But look at this name 'Arnavya Singh Raichand', is this a coincidence of what. You not only kind of share the name with this man but even the same initials, 'ASR'."

Arnav face drained of colour, his worst fear realised. He read the entries made in the journals, entries of items brought and money orders send to a London school. All debited against Arnavya Singh Raichand.

"See the entries have been made every three months, over a period of 13 years. This states that the Zamindar had educated his son Arnavya in London. This was quite common among the aristocratic and other educated class of people in those times." She turned the pages to another entry. "look at these entries, they are debited against the name Shayamraj Singh Raichand huge sums of money almost every day, larger amounts after every five six days. But no details for what the money has been utilized for."

Khushi set back in the chair the face thoughtful. "It looks like while Zamindar sahib was funding the education of one son, the other son was squandering large sums of money on absolutely nothing." Suddenly she set up straight she dug through the heap of books and pulled out the old album, and envelop holding the photographs. "and take a look at this, if pictures can tell a story than these will tell you a lot." She showed Arnav the pictures

Arnav went completely white, he gasped, his breathing accelerating, he recognized the faces in the pictures from this nightmares. Though in his visions they were not so clear, but he could still recognise the faces. The Zamindar agonized face, the younger man his face twisted in rage and hatred. He shifted from picture to picture but the slim man's whose face was scratched out, or cut out.

Khushi touched the image of the slim man with gentle fingers, "I bet this is Arnavya, and he must be smiling. I wish I could see his face." she said so solemnly and with such longing, Arnav felt a lump get caught in his throat. There was so much he wanted to tell her. This beautiful girl, like he waited many lifetimes to say to her, yet he could not. Pushing himself away from the table he got up and walked to the window. His hands holding on tightly to the frames, while he stared out at nothing.

"Arnav is something wrong." Khushi had got up to and followed him. "why do I get the feeling you're not telling me something. There's is more to this then what you're letting on."

"I don't know how to tell you, Khushi, there is so much I don't understand myself." Arnav said in a gruff voice full of unshed emotions. He turned to Khushi and she read the anguish in his eyes, the pain and torment.