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He was busy going through some Excel sheets, completely lost in them when she walked into the room. Even without looking up from the laptop screen he knew she was flustered and had some new thing cooking up in her pretty head.
Arnavji!
He ignored her the first time.
Arnavji! Please listen to what I have to say. I have to make a very important decision.
There was something wrong with these numbers, he thought distractedly.
Arnavji! You have changed so much, you don't care about me anymore, she pouted.
He immediately looked up. Two things that he found impossible to resist; his wife's filmyness and her adorable pout. He looked up at her and let his eyes run his lovely wife's frame; from top to bottom. Her hair was tied up in a careless knot, a few errant strands framed her face. She was dressed in a yellow salwar-kameez, looking every bit the sunshine girl that she was.
He got up from the couch and walked towards her. For a change, she didn't move back and stood her ground, almost daring him to come closer. He stood in front of her, just a few inches separated them.
He began toying with the strands of her hair.
What is it, Khushi, he asked, in a gentle tone that he reserved just for her.
She moved his hands away from her hair, placed her palms on his chest and moved him away, creating more distance between them.
She looked into his eyes directly and said, Arnavji, I am going to cut my hair. I mean, I am thinking of cutting my hair. Do you think it is okay?
Trust her to make mountain of a molehill.
He went back to his couch and said, Khushi, not like you are donating a kidney, it is not such a big deal, do exactly as you want. And please, you don't need my permission for anything.
I know, she said and sat down on the ground by him, but I still want your opinion.
He looked down at her, the pout was more pronounced now and this time complete with bambi eyes. Oh well, he shut down his laptop and sat down next to her on the floor, both of them facing the pool.
He took her hand in his and gently caressed the back of her palm with his thumb. He knew the effect that his most casual of touch had on her and watched with amusement as she squirmed and tried to pull away her hand without making it obvious that she wanted to. He held her hand more firmly now and let his fingers intertwine hers, with the other hand he held her chin and made her look at him directly.
So how short are we talking?
I don't know. I haven't decided yet. But do you think I will look nice with short hair?
I think you will look nice even if you went bald, he said smiling.
Haaw, she said, in her trademark shocked response, looking every bit his child-woman. He planted a kiss on her forehead and untied her hair.
I don't want to go bald. I will look ridiculous if I were to go bald, she said aghast at the suggestion.
I think you will look cute, you know like Tintin, he said as he patted her head gently.
Who is Tintin, she looked at him suspiciously.
Relax! Just a fictional character. Anyway I have work to do, stop trying to distract me by looking so cute. You can cut your hair or do anything, okay, he said as he got up and went back to his laptop.
She continued sitting there, a faraway look on her face, Arnavji, Sheetalji is so pretty, no?
Mm-hmm, he said, once again back in the world of pivot tables.
I think I will cut my hair like her, she said, as she picked up a bunch of her hair and grimaced, but I don't think I can still look like her.
He looked up from his laptop sharply, realization dawned on his face.
But you don't need to change at all, Khushi, you are perf.., but she was gone by the time he could finish his sentence.
**
She was waiting in their room. It had been three days since Arnavji had gone. He had to leave on a sudden business trip right after their conversation. She had returned from the beauty salon when Di said that he had to leave for Bombay suddenly and would be back in a couple of days.
She had tried calling him; missing him, his voice, his presence in their room, but each time she called it went to voicemail. This afternoon she got a message from him saying, coming home tonight.
She paced up and down the room anxious by the minute now, her hand constantly running up to her hair. Did she look ridiculous, she wondered. Just then she heard footsteps, the door swung open and he walked in.
One look at him and she gasped.
Arnavji, she cried, what have you done?
Khushiji, he responded, what have you done?
Arnavji, why do you have a moustache now, she said placing her hands on his shoulder.
Yes, Chulbul Pandey style, you love him, don't you, he asked wryly.
Ye... yes, but why Arnavji, this is so unlike you, she said.
He just shrugged his shoulders and went to freshen up. Before he went, he came to her and said, by the way, the short hair, you are totally working it, and kissed her on her cheek.
She was sitting on the couch, distractedly feeling her hair, feeling a little sad and happy at the same time. He came from behind her and picked her up in one swoop and carried her to their bed.
She ran her index finger over his moustache and he had an amused expression on his face.
So Khushi, do you think the moustache looks good on me, he asked, do I look dabangg enough?
Arnavji, you look nice anyway, she said, but unable to meet his eyes.
You look lovely with short hair, he said.
Hmmm, she said and put her head on his chest, just savoring their moment of togetherness.
After a while, he turned her over and kissed her on his lips.
Owww, she said.
What happened, he asked, concern in his eyes.
Your moustache is so pokey, she said.
He grinned. You don't like it, he asked.
She looked straight into his eyes and said, no, I don't.
Hmm, he said, but I love your hair.
You do, she said suddenly feeling sad and sat up on the bed.
He sat up too, with questioning eyes.
She looked at him for a while and then pulled off the wig from her head, her long tresses came tumbling down.
He watched her in shock at first and then comprehension drew on his face as he pulled her into a fierce hug.
I am sorry Arnavji, that I lied to you. I know you probably like me with short hair and, her voice trailed off tearfully.
Shut up, Khushi he said as he placed a firm kiss on her mouth.
Oww, she said, please shave that off tomorrow, Pandeyji.
You think, he grinned as he peeled off the moustache.
She looked at him, shocked, before realising what had happened.
We are both so crazy, she said, we should get married.
That we are and we did too. Twice, he added grinning.
Arnavji! You are becoming a Salman khan fan I think, she said.
Shut up, Mrs Pandeyji, you talk too much, he scowled.
Well, what do you want to do, Captain Haddock, she asked.
He threw his head back and laughed heartily.
Let me show you, he said.
Let me show you, he said.
Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon
Jodha Akbar
