Shopaholic V/S Workaholic - Page 3

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CHAPTER 5 - Are You Following Me?

Arnav pushed the trolley out of the airport, scanning around for a familiar face. Someone tapped at his shoulder. He turned to see a young man he did not recognise.

"Arnav Singh Raizada?"

He nodded, his usual frown in place. He looked at the man suspiciously. He was dressed casually, unlike Arnav who wore a dark maroon suit, but he was chic enough.

"I'm Tanishq Talwar. Ulka's fiance."

"Oh! Nice to meet you."

They shook hands.

"So, shall we?" Arnav was tired after the flight and he had not gotten an ounce of sleep thanks to one of those babies who had spent the whole time crying and screaming. Now, all he wanted was to go have a nice hot shower and then sink in a warm bed and sleep. But the heat here made the idea repulsive. He could just have a cold bath and sleep. Unless an air conditioner was available. He noticed Tanishq hesitate.

"Sorry, I'm waiting for another person too. She was on your flight. I wonder why she's taking so much time..."

***

Khushi was having difficulty with her trolley. When she looked at it she saw it had a faulty wheel. Sighing, she put all the effort she could in pushing her crippled trolley out. Thank God she had been able to sleep. In fact, she had fallen asleep right after the take off. The lady sitting beside her complained about a baby crying all along the flight duration, but Khushi had not heard a thing. Well, good enough!

The warm of her hometown enveloped her, bringing a beautiful smile on her face. The smile widened into a grin as the sunrays fell on her. She inhaled deeply the air of this place she had grown up in, with her loved ones. Four years already since she had left it all to go to London for her studies. She had taken up a course on journalism, which had lasted two years. She had begun with a freelance career before she had finally been recruited by The Economist. And it was all thanks to Anjali. Khushi had initially applied to fashion magazines only. It was fashion, in reality, which truely appealed to her but she had been rejected by all of them. On her best friend's advice, she had applied to other magazines.

"Try everywhere, Khush. You might get a chance somewhere at least," Anji had told her. So she had applied every vacancy in that field, she had gone to every interview she had been called to and in the end, she had gotten the job at The Economist. A dry smack on the back of her head brought her out of the past.

"What were you doing, duffer, taking all your time and going in the opposite direction? D'you have any idea how worried I was? We've been waiting for so long!"

Khushi turned around. The sun was blinding and she couldn't see who was talking to her but she already recognised him by his voice and words.

"Bhai!"

She flung her arms around his neck.

"Aap kaise ho?" (How are you?)

"Tu baat hi mat kar mujhse! Why did you take so much time?" (Don't you dare talk to me!...)

"Sorry, Bhai! My trolley's crippled!"

He laughed, "Ok, fine. Chalo."

***

Arnav pinched himself hard enough to draw blood. Was this real or was he just dreaming? Only seconds ago, Tanishq had excused himself. Finally the cousin he was waiting for had come out but she had taken the wrong direction. Arnav watched as the guy walked up to a girl and smacked her head from behind. And when the girl had turned around, it was his world which turned upside down.

Khushi Kumaari Gupta!

What the-?

Where had she come from? He watched her hug Tanishq, smiling brightly like the Lucknow sun. Arnav was convinced it was a mirage, but the pinch he had given himself contradicted the idea. He regained his posture and frown, seeing them approach.

If he had been negative about this trip, something now told him things would be better. More fun, maybe. With this girl around, he felt... strange. He was not himself. He was no longer The ASR. It felt more like he was Arnav. The same Arnav he had been years ago, before a storm had wrecked his home...

***

"Bhabhi nahin aayi?" (Sister-in-law did not come?)

"No."

"Then, why had you said 'we' earlier?"

"Actually, I'd come to fetch Ulka's cousin. He came on your flight too, you know? And I tell you, don't you dare repeat this to anyone, but he's a bit scary."

Khushi laughed. "What? Scary? Seriously, Bhai? Well, Khushi Kumaari Gupta is not scared of anyone, mind you!"

Tanishq smiled at his little cousin. "You have not met him yet, Chutki. Don't judge him beforehand, you might get a surprise!"

Khushi rolled her eyes. Four years and it seemed that her cousin had forgotten her already. But she had not. Tanishq had always been a quite shy guy, easily intimidated by the stronger. Hearing hthat he was getting married had not been such a startling news, but the fact that it was a love mariiage had certainly knocked Khushi off her feet. It was difficult not to love her sweet and cute cousin but how on earth had he managed to declare his love to Ulka was a mystery to her. Tanishq was Khushi's favourite cousin, after Payal of course.

He was Payal's Buaji's (aunt) son, her only son her husband had given her before her had died during his military services. After becoming a widow, Madhumati had moved in with her brother, not married yet at that time, due to her in-laws' constant nagging about her being barren; it had been five years of married life and yet, she had not given the family good news. The Talwar's youngest son had ended up dying without an heir. Few months later, Madhumati had discovered she was pregnant but continued staying with her brother and she gave birth to the shy Tanishq. He was three years older than both Payal and Khushi. These three, having been brought up in the same house were closer than any siblings on Earth.

"Khushi, meet Mr Raizada. Mr Raizada, my cousin, Khushi."

Raizada? The name broked through her thoughts. Raizada? The name was familiar... Oh crap! Not again! Raizada? She squinted to see him, but the morning sun shone fiercely, right behind his figure, creating a bright halo around him. She could not distinguish the man's features at all. Was it really him?

Please Devi Maiyya, not him, not again!

"Good morning, Miss Gupta."

As if conscious of her trouble she was having to see him, Arnav moved. Horror settled on Khushi like a drape. She was frozen of the spot, unable to utter a single syllable. Every time she was in front of him, that was exactly what happened to her. She lost her faculty of speech. Literally.

Tanishq had been right. Mr Raizada was indeed intimidating. Scary, too, when it came to her. A voice in her head was clearly laughing at her. What happened, Khushi? You are not scared of anyone, are you?

You might get a surprise. Tanishq's words resonated in her mind, which felt empty. Her mouth had dried. He had been wrong there. Surprised? My foot! It's a bloody shock! He Devi Maiyya, why are you doing this to me? Was the prasad (offering) I had made the other day not good? You did not like it? Is that why you're making me run into this inquisitive Laad Governor all the time?

Dark pools of coffee, beckoned her, attracted her, and as she looked into them, she saw a faint glint of humour. Yet, he was still sporting his signature frown. Khushi realised her heart was beating faster than usual. Was it the fear of him? Or was it something else?

***

Arnav watched as the happiness on her face metamorphosed into stark horror within the fraction of a second. He was definitely going to have fun. He knew it...

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CHAPTER 6 - I Am Not Who I Seem To Be...

"Khoosiii! Haye Khoosiii! Garimaaa! Arrey inhaan aao Garima! Ee dekhao, tumhari Khoosii ayii hai!" (...Come here Garima! Look, your Khushi has come!)

Khushi winced. Would Buaji ever stop calling her... that?

"Haye re Nand Kisore! Tum aayi gayi Bitiya!" Madhumati pulled the girl in a tight embrace, almost suffocating her. (... You finally came!)

"Jiji! Saans to lene dijiye Bitiya ko!" (Sis! Let her breathe!)

When, Buaji got out the way, Khushi saw her Amma and Bauji beaming at her. They performed the aarti for both her and Mr Raizada before allowing them to enter the Sheesh Mahal where they would all be staying until the wedding. This was also the wedding venue and Khushi had to admit it was lovely. There were other people who had arrived. Some she knew, some she did not. She did see Mr Raizada's mother, who stepped forward to hug her son once her aarti was over. Garima too hugged Khushi.

"Kaisi ho, Khusi?" (How are you, Khushi?)

The girl just nodded speechlessly. In these years, this woman who had raised her with so much care and affection had not changed the least bit. It felt as if Khushi had never left. But when she looked at her Bauji, it was a totally different story. The man had aged a lot. Maybe because of the stroke he had suffered from a couple of years earlier. She touched his feet.

"Bitiya, chal hum tujhe tera karma dikhate hain, tu thoda araam karle, achha?" (Come, I'll show you to your room, you'll rest a bit, okay?)

"Nahin Amma, humein sabse pehle Bhabhi se milna hai! Bhai?" (No ma, I'll meet my sis-in-law first! Bro?)

"Ulka abhi aati hi hogi." (Ulka must be coming.)

***

Arnav could hardly keep his eyes off her as she met every one, smiled politely, made acquaintances, engaged in conversations. If anyone looked at her closely, they would see she was starting to feel tired but it appeared that no one really saw, and seemed not to mind. When someone even noticed her weary eyes and told her she could go and rest, she would refuse.

But Arnav wanted some sleep. He had just spent sleepless flight. After meeting his cousins and talking for a few minutes with them, he asked his mother to show him to his room. It was only at dinner time that he emerged. Miss Gupta had bathed and changed. Gone was the stylish London girl. She now wore a baby blue Anarkali; the upper part of the dress was made of velvet, the lower part of a soft flowing fabric, woven with thin strips of silvery thread. It had a thick white and silver border at the bottom, while at the neckline and short translucent sleeves, the border, with similar designs and colour, was narrower. He noted a small velvet pompom hanging from each sleeve, a shade darker than her dress. Her dupatta rested on the right shoulder, and she had tied the two ends at the left. The knot fell to near her slender waist. She had her beautiful long hair tied in a low ponytail. She looked like any typical Indian girl. Only, more beautiful. In fact, the most beautiful he had ever set eyes upon.

She had an affinity for kids, she noticed. Earlier, when she had been with the adults, she had been a bit shy. But now, surrounded by children, playing hide-and-seek in the yard of his father's hotel, she had a glint of childish mischief in her eyes. The evening Lucknowi sun gave an orange glow to her white skin. She smiled constantly, not the least bit tired now, giggling from time to time as she teased the child who had his eyes blindfolded.

"Bhai! Khaana khaane jaaiye, na!" he turned to see Ulka walking to him. "Arrey, yeh kya? Yeh log ab bhi khel rahe hain? Aap andar jaaiye, main inhein bulaakar aati hoon." (Bro! Go and eat! What's this? They are still playing? you go, I'll call them.)

She walked in, a bit out of breath, behind the horde of kids, laughing with them, her skin slightly flushed. Arnav could not take his eyes off her. Even throughout the dinner, all those who sat at the monstrously large table talked in small groups; she talked too, poking in some argument here, adding a comment there, laughing, smiling, complaining. As if she were the life of the different conversations around the table, she integrated each of them, teasing, giving her ideas and opinions, defending.

She dazzled him, astonished him. How could someone be so lively, so full of ideas, so well at ease? It was beyond his understanding. He himself, despite being a fast rising businessman like his father used to be in his youth, often had difficulties in handling a decent conversation. During dinner that night itself, he just grumbled a few answers in response to the questions arising from his surroundings. And here was this girl, who could participate in every conversation possible, who could switching from one topic to another in the blink of an eye. Arnav, as for him, could converse only about the economic, financial or business world.

Later that night he was sitting in his suite, typing furiously on his laptop as sleep refused to come. Maybe it was because he had slept earlier, and then he realised how Miss Gupta had been smart. She knew that if she slept during the day, she would spend a sleepless night. He went outside to take some air. Somehow, this lack of sleep had been useful to him. He had been able to catch up with his work and had even been able to cover up more than what he had wanted.

"Bhai? Aap, yahaan? Iss vakt?" (Bro? You, here? At this time?)

He turned to see Ulka, watching with an amazed expression.

"Yeah... Can't sleep... Tum?"

"Pyaas lag rahi thi to paani peene gayi. Neeche Khushi se mili to hum dono ne thodi baacheet ki. Ab sone jaa rahi hoon." (I was thirsty so I went to drink water. I met Khushi downstairs and we talked for sometime. Now, I'm going to sleep.)

"Voh abhi tak soyi nahin?" Arnav was taken aback. He had thought Miss Gupta would be in bed, sleeping tight by the time it was. (She's not sleeping yet?)

"Nahin, itne saalon baad Lucknow vaapas aayi hai na, she's feeling a bit down." (No, she's back after so many years...)

Ulka walked to the balcony and leaned on it with a sigh. Arnav followed her, and it was only when he had leant there too that he realised Khushi was below, in the garden. She sat there, near the fountain, huddled up, her knees brought close to her chest, her face raised to the sky which was lit with a crescent of the moon and billions of stars. She wore a peppermint green salwaar, her dupatta wrapped around her like a shawl.

"I had heard a lot about her but it's today I've really met her. You know, Bhai, she's very strong."

Arnav listened to his cousin, suddenly highly interested, but his eyes were helplessly glued to the fairy who sat there.

"Yeah?"

"Hmm... Tanishq had told me so much about her, and I had always thought he was bluffing. I mean, who can cover her own worries and sadness so well to appear happy just for the sake of others? But I saw it today. And now I believe him..."

"What? Kya keh rahi ho tum?" (What are you saying?)

"Bhai... usse kehna nahin ke maine aapko yeh sab bataya hai... She's an orphan, Bhai..." (... Don't tell her I said this...)

Arnav felt hot and cold both all of a sudden.

"What? Par main usske parents se abhi abhi to mila hoon..." (But I just met her parents...)

"No, Bhai, they're Payalji's parents. In fact, they're Khushi's Maasi and Maasa... Her parents died when she was ten... It disturbs her a lot till today because she saw them dying without being able to do anything to help. She feels so miserable. But she doesn't show... for her family... even now she was talking to me cheerfully enough but I looked in her eyes... those feelings were still raw there... Garima Mami took her in when her parents died, so she calls them her parents..."

His heart went out to her. Who would have known by looking at her? And what had Ulka said? She had seen her parents die?

"How did they die?"

He noticed his cousin shiver, although the night was warm. What was it? Something horrible?

"Bhai... they were killed in a riot... in their own house... Tanishq had told me about it, what Khushi had remembered and told them... For some reason, the muslims and hindus had started rioting against each other. For safety, Khushi's had avoided leaving the house but a group barged in there. They just had time to hide their daughter somewhere in a cupboard, I think... but Khushi saw everything from a crack... how they killed her mom and dad... She still cannot sleep well because of that... It still gives her nightmares... Tanishq had told me, whenever she cannot sleep she goes out to watch the stars. Garima Mami had told her her Amma-Bauji had gone to Devi Maiyya but they watched upon her in the form of stars. She still believes that, you know. She still looks for them up there..."

Arnav stood there, his thoughts in tatters. Riots never included mercy, and watching people being killed could be traumatic. Now think about seeing your own parents die... his heart broke for her. He heard Ulka say something about going to bed, but he could not focus on anything but the lonely girl out there. When did his feet transport him down the stairs and into the garden, he knew not. But he found himself standing behind her, suddenly, watching silently as she watched the stars for her parents in the silent night...

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