FF: Arshi: 101 letters(22 Dec thread2 pg158) - Page 14

Writer's note: Yes, I know, the story is going excruciatingly slow. Yes, I've neglected this for long. No, I've not lost interest, it's just Taming and AU IPK are taking up more time. But but but... 😊 the next few updates 101 letters will come up quickly.

Just a note here, I'm planning on borrowing the event of Arnav's parents passing away from the reel life (will deviate after that). So in these starting chapters I want to establish how he was BEFORE the incident changed his life. This fic is Arnav centric, but I'll keep writing about Khushi's side of the story too as and when needed.

That said, please leave your comments and feedback. I need the feedback (along with a kick up my arse) to get along with this story 😆

"What the hell are you doing?" Arnav yelled at the couple of workers who were up on the ladder typing up fairy lights on the pillars of the courtyard. The workers looked down at him dubiously, wondering what they were doing wrong. Arnav shook his head exasperatedly.

"I said I wanted the fairy lights falling straight down from the ceiling to the floor, like a curtain. Who told you to wrap it around the pillar?" Arnav asked the workers frustratedly.

"Chotey Sahib, this way we can save up on the fairylights and put them up elsewhere," one of the workers explained warily. Arnav's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, right. Are you paying for them?" Arnav sneered angrily. The workers exchanged a glance between them and look back at Arnav wordlessly. "No?" Arnav prods. "So put the lights up the way you were told to. It's my sister's wedding, not a joke. Understood?" Arnav shouted the last word at the two scared workers who nodded their vigorously and hastily started unwinding the lights from the pillar.

Arnav walked through the corridors on Sheesh Mahal scrutinising the arrangements with a hawk eye. Even though the wedding was ten days away, there was so much to be done; the lighting up of Sheesh Mahal was just the beginning; there were sweets that needed to be ordered, confirm the guest listing, tally up with the flower guy... And despite Lucknow's best wedding planners having been roped in for Anjali's wedding, Arnav didn't trust them to deliver and wanted to check each arrangement to his satisfaction. After all, it wasn't every day that his only sister would tie the knot.

Arnav and Anjali shared a strange bond; to the whole world, they were the typical bickering siblings; Anjali seeked out to irritate Arnav, and he never gave up a chance to pull her leg. Like there was this one time when she ruined his hairstyle that he had painstakingly tried to get it "just right" after minutes of grooming. He had replied in kind by placing plastic bugs on her bed and in her bathroom leading to her running out of her room screaming like a banshee.

But all the pranks and fights aside, he fiercely guarded her; according to him, only he had the right to pull her leg. If someone else so much as tried it, he/she would end up at the receiving end of Arnav's wrath. It didn't really matter to him that he was some years younger to her; he took his brother-sister relationship very seriously.

As Arnav came to the end of the corridor, he stopped for a moment at the door leading to his sister's room. From the crack in the door, he watched his mother and his sister sitting on the bed. They were talking and laughing. Arnav felt his lips curving into a happy smile which he rarely, if ever, displayed openly. Then, his mother opened the antique box in her hands and extracted two old kangans and passed them to Anjali who stared at them for a moment in surprise. His mother mumbled something which Arnav couldn't hear, but the very next moment, Anjali hugged her mother tightly and both the women started sobbing. The door he had been leaning on creaked slightly and the two women parted looking straight at Arnav with their teary eyes. He froze.

Arnav's mother nodded her head beckoning Arnav to join them, but he shook his head and rushed away from the door. Surprised with the unexpected lump that was lodged in his throat, 14 year old Arnav Mallik realised that he was suddenly feeling sad. He was really going to miss his dear sister.

*

"Khushi, I've told you so many times not to stand so close to the gas stove!" Khushi's mother admonished Khushi who was eagerly peering at the huge steel vessel while holding a pad of paper and a pen hovering over it expectantly. "You might get something on your clothes beta, or God forbid if the hot oil falls on your body!" Garima exclaimed horrified.

"Amma, how will I know how you are cooking if I don't stand next to you when you do?" Khushi asked her mother patiently. "I need to know what you put in the curry after kesar," she added scrunching her nose and smelling the aroma.

"Why do you want to know that? Don't you have homework to do?" Garima asked irritatedly.

"I've finished it Amma. Moreover, this is my homework," Khushi replied. Garima looked amused now.

"I guess it is good. At least that way your in-laws will be happy that their daughter-in-law can handle herself well in the kitchen," Garima joked.

"Amma! Is that why you think I'm learning how to cook?" Khushi asked her mother horrified and immediately took a step back from the gas stove. Just then Shashi walked into the kitchen, sniffing the aroma appreciatively.

"Oh, something smells good!" he says looking towards his wife. Khushi immediately addresses the one person who knew well of her aspirations.

"Bauji, did you hear what Amma is saying? She says I'm learning cooking so that I can serve my in-laws," Khushi looked at her father dismayed. Shashi looked at Garima enquiringly who smiled back at him.

"Oh ho, she isn't saying anything wrong is she? After all, you'll get married some day and go off to your in-laws house. It would be really embarrassing if you can't cook food for your husband," Khushi gapes at her father for a moment, amazed that he had switched sides with her mother. Then she crossed her arms grumpily and marched out of the kitchen to the verandah outside the house.

Shashi shook his head exasperatedly and followed her daughter outside. He found her sitting on the stairs leading out to the courtyard and sat down next to her. They both remained silent for some time, Khushi twiddling with her dupatta while Shashi waiting expectantly, for he knew Khushi would blurt out in a moment. And true to his expectations-

"Bauji! I'm not going to get married and go away from you and Amma," Khushi suddenly said, her voice breaking up. Shashi smilingly put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him.

"Who's asking you to get married today itself, silly girl?" he said affectionately, trying to pacify her. "I know why you spend so much time in the kitchen. I know all about your dreams." He whispered conspiratorially. Khushi's eyes widened.

"You know that I want to be a chef?" she asked in trepidation. Shashi's smile widened at the wide eyed look on Khushi's face.

"Yes I do. You've been a brilliant student. You've done well in extra-curricular activities. You excel in whatever you do. And I couldn't be prouder my dear. I know you'll be a wonderful chef," he replied, his voice resonating with the pride he felt. Khushi hugged her father, feeling grateful and elated for his support and encouragement. If there was anyone in the whole wide world who truly understood her, it was her dear father.

"But when you do get married, you in-law will actually be very happy," he added teasingly. Khushi looked up at the twinkling eyes of her father and felt an unexpected lump rising in her throat. She realised with sadness, how much she'd miss him when she'd actually get married.

*