Chapter 1: The Return of the Native
"Khushi," he whispered.
As always, she responded to him. He had only to say her name. She remembered when her Babuji had been ill in the hospital and she'd been distraught. He had come, and he had said only one word. Her name. And she had flown into his arms like it was all that mattered.
She walked toward him slowly. Then quickened her step as it sunk in. It really was him. Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. He stood there, expectant. A small smile in his eyes, though his lips were perfectly still. The cockiness was there. The feeling that she was his, and she knew it and there was nothing she could do about it. Underneath it was a fear that maybe, maybe she could do something about it. Maybe she could do without him? He dispelled the thought and waited for her to come to him. She had to.
She did. She stood in front of him and took him in. It had been exactly 9 days since she had last laid eyes on him. 9 sleepless nights filled with disturbing dreams. 9 days of anxiety and Jalebis. 9 days of Shyam and fear. And here he was. He'd rung the bell and Hari Prakash had let him in. Just like that.
His phone rang. He picked up.
It was the ubiquitous Aman. "I'll call you back!" he barked.
Khushi studied him curiously. He looked the same. As if he'd just come back from a day at work. Shirt slightly creased after a long day in the office. Tie still tightly wound around his neck. 5 'o clock shadow caressed his jaw. He ran a careless hand through his hair, ruffling it beyond recognition. He was nervous, she realized. She knew the signs. He set the laptop case on the floor and looked into her eyes.
"Khushi, I..", before he finished she slapped him hard across his face. He looked at her, anger flashing in his eyes and found it mirrored in hers. Multiplied by a thousand. Molten lava would've been cooler than the fire her eyes were spitting at him. He reached for her and she stepped back.
"Hari Prakashji, take Arnavji's bags upstairs. And I'll get dinner ready. 30 minutes, tops," she said. "You better shower. You smell pretty bad," she said to Arnav.
"What the?" he sputtered.
"I said you smell bad. You better shower before you come to dinner, or everyone will be put off their dinner," She repeated as if she was talking to a child. She turned on her heel and walked off into the kitchen.
Arnav Singh Raizada stood there gaping at her retreating back. He glanced at the curious eyes turned on him.
"What?" he barked.
"Chotey, where have you been?" asked Anjali, going up to him and hugging him lightly. "You haven't called home since you left. You weren't in London. Your office didn't know where you were. Your phone was switched off. We were frantic. We had no idea where you were. We thought you'd been kidnapped, or had met with an accident." She finished, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry Di. I had some work to take care of," he said carelessly.
"What work?" asked Naniji sternly, butting in.
"I can't say," said Arnav, loosening his tie.
"You can't say? You mean you're not going to offer any explanation for going AWOL for almost 10 days?" asked Anjali.
"Like I said Di, I had some work to take care of. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take my wife's advice and shower. I do feel filthy," he said. The slight emphasis on 'my wife' had gone unnoticed by no one. Akash grinned at Payal, who nodded to Anjali who smiled at Naniji. Chotey was in trouble and he knew it.
Dinner was nothing like he'd imagined. He'd thought his wife would fly into his arms. Weep tears down his silk shirt. And then feed him parathas herself. Like she'd fed him that gol gappa, just about 2 weeks ago. That had been fun. He let his mind drift off to that moment in her home.
She'd looked radiantly happy, her eyes shining with joy as she gulped down one gol gappa after the other. That hesitation in her eye mixed with a hint of shyness when Buaji asked her to feed him had changed his mind about gol gappas forever. To make her blush ever so slightly at the thought of feeding him was a heady feeling. He'd let himself go for a moment. "I'll eat one," he'd said. And she'd complied. The gol gappa juice had flowed down his throat like an acrid mix of coal tar and sewage water flavored with capsaicin. It had quite literally burnt his tongue. And yet, all he had felt in that moment was her. Her heart racing slightly as her fingers touched his lips for a fleeting second. Kuch khatti. Kuch meethi. Kuch teekhi. Gol gappas were forever relegated in his head to that zone where whipped cream and chocolate sauce lived in the minds of most men.
That had been 2 weeks ago.
He stared at his plate, pushing the peas around idly with his fork. Then he popped a bite of the peas pulao into his mouth. It was his wife's cooking, that was for sure. He knew her little touches. That light flavor of saffron that she liked to add into the rice was a dead giveaway.
"More karela?" she asked, holding the dish out to him.
"Sure," he said. She ladled a spoon onto his plate silently.
"How come you made my favorite karela today?" he asked seriously. He wondered if she'd had a feeling he'd be coming home today. A sixth sense so to speak.
"We've been eating karela for dinner and jalebis for dessert for 9 days now Bhai. I am glad you are back!" said Akash, sounding relieved. Payal frowned heavily at him, and he piped down at her warning kick under the table.
"I've enjoyed it every single day Khushiji," said Shyam brazenly.
Khushi smiled sweetly at him. "You and Arnavji have that in common Jijaji. Both so fond of bitter things." The emphasis on Jijaji was not lost on Arnav. He grinned admiringly at his wife. She looked stonily back at him. No smile on her face. No twinkle in her eyes.
"So, Chotey..since you won't tell us where you went, will you please tell us if you intend to disappear again so we can all sleep in peace in our own bedrooms," asked Naniji.
"Sorry, what Nani?" asked Arnav puzzled.
"I said kindly let us know the next time you decide to fall off the face of the Earth for a few days. We like to be prepared. Your poor wife hasn't slept in days. None of us have. I've been sleeping with her in your room, but she wakes up about three times every night screaming your name and yelling bloody murder. I can't take it anymore. I feel like I'm living in an asylum. I'm 78 years old. Too old for this drama, you understand me?" she finished.
"I understand you perfectly Nani," he said. He knew he'd just been granted forgiveness without asking for it. He was home free with Nani. Now, if only his wife would come around. Di wasn't an issue. She had to forgive him. She was the mother he'd lost, and mothers always made excuses for their children. Occupational hazard.
"So, how's everything been around here?" he asked weakly, feeling like he needed to make small talk.
"Fine Arnav bitwa! I told phatti-sari you'd be back. She didn't have to drown us in her ocean of chashni. But she just went on and on with the jalebis!" said Manorama Mami, as if she hadn't gorged her face with the jalebis every single night.
Arnav just nodded in response. Manorama Mami was like his diabetes medication. He took the pills because he had to. Same way, he loved Manorama Mami because he had to. One does these kinds of foolish things for one's family. One makes allowances for family. He wondered if his wife would make allowance for his transgression.
"Where's Bubbly" he asked suddenly, noticing the brat's absence.
"Back at boarding school Arnavji. Maaji decided she'd had enough of a break," said Payal smiling gratefully at her mother-in-law, who looked suitably gratified. Arnav stared in wonder at Payal. Two things astounded him. One, she had addressed him directly. Two, she seemed to have reached an understanding with the arch-enemy, her MIL. "A 9 day wonder?" he mused, giving Payal a mental Thumbs up for the break-through.
Khushi brought dessert out at the end of the meal. A plate piled high with jalebis.
"More Jalebis!" groaned Akash. He felt a quick pinch and he changed it to, "Yay! I love Jalebis!" They all reached for the jalebis. Khushi might have made them every single day, but they had been awesome every single time. She had a way with jalebis, did Khushi. Arnav reached out to pick one. She moved the plate out of his reach.
"They're made with sugar, not sugar-free. Sorry!" she said. His face fell ludicrously.
"Khushi bitiya, you made jalebis with sugar-free every day for the last 9 days, why did you change to sugar today?" asked Naniji puzzled.
"I thought we must celebrate Arnavji's return properly. With real jalebis," said Khushi brightly, looking at Arnav, but smiling at Naniji.
He knew the reason why. And that wasn't it. She'd fed him the bitter karelas he loved and held back the sweet jalebis he didn't really care for, and ate just because she made them. She was making a statement, was his wife. And it was basically this.
THE SHIT HAD HIT THE FAN.
"It's going to be a rough night," thought Arnav, wondering how he could make her come around.
When he went up to his room an hour later, he found Khushi changed and in bed, reading a book. It was the first time he'd seen her reading anything.
"What are you reading?" he asked curiously.
"How to lose a guy in 10 days!" she quipped.
"So, I still have 1 day then?" he asked hopefully.
"You have nothing Mr.Raizada. Absolutely nothing. Now, good night." She said, pulling the duvet around her and snuggling into the mattress. She slept like a baby that night.
Arnav reclined on the recliner, but didn't sleep. He'd made his bed and sleeping on it was no fun at all, he realized.
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