As the moonbeam found its way through the doors which were locked for fourteen years, the cobwebs and the dust which till now slumbered in peace came alive. The soft, swift winds soulfully whistled away into the darkness which knew no limit, as far as his eyes could reach. The crickets kept singing their nightly songs gleefully as the moon kept shying away behind the clouds. Arnav now stood at the threshold of place which screamed out loud of his misery. He was at the doorway which held nothing but agonizing memoirs of time. He was at the door of house where Khushi had spent her first eight years of her life. He knew not why he came there but something at the back of his mind told him that all the answers to his questions lay hidden in these four walls.
Khushi was on the verge of slipping into comma. Di was devastated, torn between her brother and her lover. His family had no answers to his incessant questions as Dadi gloated with pride as she could finally put the Gupta family down on a proven ground. So, Garima was the reason his family fell apart. She was the reason his mother left his sister and him alone to face the world by themselves. She was the reason he had no childhood to look back to but he couldn't decide on his feelings. Had it been a year ago, reaching to a conclusion wouldn't have been this hard. Had it been a year ago, he would've ruined this lady but right now he was lost. He couldn't even think straight, let alone judge something. He was shattered. The mighty ASR was finally brought down to his knees.
The image of Khushi, facing away from Buaji and throwing rice into her pallu as a part of Bidai(Farewell) ritual flashed before his eyes. She was smiling, unlike any other bride. She anticipated going back to her home with every ounce of her will. She wanted to return to where she rightfully belonged, her lover's arm; her Arnav Ji's arm. As Arnav drove her away in their brand new car, he saw a new life sparkle in his Khushi's eyes. As Khushi placed her soft palm on his hands which were busy changing the gear, it gave him the feeling that they were finally driving into the sunset. As their fingers intertwined in each other, he thought that life was finally at its best. Never could he have guessed that his life was to fall apart again on the very day when he finally could manage to place it together.
They were at a crossroad when bright white lights hit him from the left. He heard her scream. He felt himself move against his wishes. He heard the windscreen shatter. He felt something wet splurge on his face. He felt his bones ache till his nerves could bear no more. He smelled blood. He reached his hands out to grab Khushi's but they were nowhere to be found. He kept searching helplessly even with his eyes closed but could feel nothing but aches and that was the last memory of the night he had.
That feeling of being lost, that feeling of haplessness ivied its way around his body with the same intensity again tonight but he pushed on. He walked into the silent darkness leaving nothing but noise of lonely heels in his wake. He was in the living room, furniture covered with age old dust. It was probably filled with Khushi's mirth and giggle at some point of time, he thought to himself. He wanted to hear her laugh; he wanted to hear her giggle but all that he could hear in his mind was her last scream. When he later learned from the police that it was Shyam and Dadi's move to keep them apart, his world crashed down six feet under. He couldn't trust a word his Dadi said anymore. She claimed to have been trying to protect him from the person's daughter who destroyed their family. Khushi was supposed to be trying to do the same.
When he could finally manage to start moving after the catastrophe, he went to see Khushi the first thing. There she was lying, with tubes and wires all around her helping her win the battle against death. He was devastated. He could handle the battle no longer. He wanted to give up but the beeps of the machines monitoring Khushi's feeble life kept him going. He had to get away for some time. He had to straighten out the thoughts in his mind. He had to go back to where she started.
Arnav had no idea about his stand in this situation. He had to escape. He flew down to Lucknow the first moment he could slip out and now at the dead of the night, he was rummaging through the old papers at her place. Using a torch as his sole guide, he was going through everything he laid his hands on. He moved from one dead room to another, leaving no corner upturned. The kitchen, her parents' bedroom, the store and then suddenly he found himself in room which still somehow laughed its way through the darkness. There were toys all around; there were crayon sketches on the walls, partially hidden with dust, inviting him to join them in their unsaid celebration. It was baby Khushi's room.
He moved to one of the walls and wiped the dust off a sketch. It was of her family: her Babuji, Amma and Khushi herself, probably standing in a zoo. All of them were smiling just like his family used to before they fell apart. Baby Khushi and baby Arnav, both, could've never guessed in their happy days that dark days were just around the corner, he muttered to himself. Whatever happened in the past with Garima had nothing to do with Khushi. She belonged to another world, a much happier world. She belonged to her own family, he realized. There was no point even doubting his Khushi for a moment. He finally got the answers to his innumerable queries but there had to be something more. He didn't know what but something which could put his heart to ease.
He moved onto the cupboard and started rummaging it thoughtlessly. There were baby frocks and a couple books but nothing more. He started checking the drawers, pulled them out and searched through them with a great anticipation though he had nothing particular to look forward to. He opened every box and went through every paper with an undying excitement. As he finally opened the last and the lowest drawer, he saw a lone chest box covered in dust. Deciding that it must've been something of great importance to baby Khushi, he took it out with great care. He slowly clunked open the lid as the noise reverberated in the forlorn walls.
There were colourful bits of ribbons, lonely buttons of pretty dresses and singular earings and broken plastic clips; things which are close to young girl's heart. He silently laughed as he started taking them out one at a time. As he finished removing them from their home, he found a folded yellow paper at the bottom. Looking curiously at it, he took it out and opened it with utmost care for it was old and fragile. As he opened and saw the picture it held, he burst out laughing. This was her dream from starting of time. He couldn't let it go unnoticed. He swore to himself to bring this dream of hers to life no matter what. He kept laughing as he finally got what he was looking for, what he came for. It was a crayon sketch of a groom in white and bride in red, riding off merrily on a white horse into the horizon for a happily ever after.
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