ArHi FF! We, the people [Completed] - Page 38

Originally posted by: aayesha

Nice update love arshi understanding...
But I would love to know about khushi past also...

Originally posted by: moomin4455

Hi ya,

apologies for not commenting - I admit I'm a bit lost in this story. Will be going back to read from the beginning 😳

What I gleaned from the last chapter is that there has been something in place for the last 30 years or so, which will put SMJ's manifesto into play...

What did Khushi's last comment mean? And why did it make Akash angry? Sorry, am usually more astute than this, but no sleep and revising for a horrid stats exam tomorrow is pickling my brain!! 😕

Originally posted by: anu.happy4ever

Yes Yes Yes We definitely want to know about Geet too!! More twists? i'm waiting for it. :)

When I first read that a man named Shyam Manohar Jha approached Rathore, I thought he must have been sent by Akash to use Rathore in some way ( May be that sounds like a lame guess? ) But there are many Shyam's! That was totally unexpected.

Khushi and Arnav seem to be closer than what we know so far. Both of them have read, no, rather studied Arnav's father's journals. There is some unexplored aspect here. Waiting to know more.

Alice in Wonderland is such a wonderful story. Its more than just a children's book filled with imaginary stuff. Wonderful analogy here.

Originally posted by: RockBarbie

I hope your exams went well... Yeah, there are multiple threads at work and they are sort of parallel and need to track them all at the same time..

A manifesto exists which is in two parts. Two group of people take up each section and start implementing it. This implementation starts somewhere around early 80s and its been three decades since. Its now finding its culmination due to various factors.

Khushi not very subtly hinted that people like her and Arnav don't participate in a revolution - like bystanders. Hope this helps.

Originally posted by: RockBarbie

Geet? What! You mean Khushi :-) I see you are reading Serendipity :-)

Yes, Khushi and Arnav go way back and I will write about it in next chapter.

Chapter 23:

Summer 1996, Calcutta

"Your boyfriend is waiting for you. Again," She could practically hear the underlying teasing in her friend's words.

"He isn't my boyfriend," she said jamming more books into her bag than it had the capacity to hold. "I've known him for far too long now," she added for a good measure and put up her hair in a bun and stuck a pencil through it.

"Khushi, in future if someone asks – 'Is Arnav your boyfriend?' then please answer - 'Yes'." Her friend said exasperatedly.

"Why is having a boyfriend such a big deal?" Khushi asked, wearing the bag across her chest and walked out of the reference section of the library.

"Are you really asking me this question?" Her friend asked walking next to her but failing to maintain Khushi's pace. "And will you quit walking so fast?" She added jogging a bit to catch up with her friend.

"If you wear footwear fit for walking, you will probably be able to walk at a 'normal' pace," Khushi sniggered air quoting 'normal'. Khushi was happily wearing sneakers with her jeans and a t-shirt two sizes larger which her friend suspected wasn't Khushi's in the first place.

"The cost of these babies," her friend said pointing to her kitten heels, "is equivalent to our one month's food bill," she said shamelessly. Khushi simply rolled her eyes. "I wish I came from a family like yours," she added with a hint of jealousy.

"Trust me when I say this, you don't want my kind of family." Khushi answered sardonically. "Both my parents are alma-mater of this college; imagine my position when most old professors look at me and my paper and say, 'When your parents were my students'. It's menace, actually." She said.

"Well, you always forget to mention the next part of our professors' words – 'You are much better than your parents or any other student I have ever taught'," her friend said rolling her eyes. "Stop selling short Khushi," she admonished. "Besides, if I had parents like yours, I would have totally abused my place here in college." She grinned evilly. Khushi laughed at her friend's antics.

"That's the last thing I want, honestly. I want to finish my college, keep nose clean, score good grades and go back home with a nice job," Khushi said smilingly. Within minutes they had arrived outside their campus and the outer world was stand still given how India was playing Sri Lanka in world cup semi-finals. After an invigorating victory in quarter finals, hope remained.

"There's your boyfriend, like I said," her friend said waving maniacally at the man sitting on a bike wearing a white kurta and blue jeans and Ray-Ban wayfarer perched snugly on his nose.

"Arnav isn't my…whatever," Khushi gave up explaining her friend and muttered a goodbye which fell on deaf ears.

"What do you want?" Khushi asked as soon as she was within Arnav's hearing distance.

"Hello Khushi. How are you? I am doing great, thanks for asking," he replied sarcastically and kick started his bike. Rolling her eyes, she sat on pillion and waved a goodbye to her friend who was looking at them with dreamy eyes.

"Where are we going?" She asked him circling her arms around his waist and placing her chin on his shoulder.

"I have to show you something," Arnav said. His voice was short so Khushi didn't press further. She hugged him tighter when he increased the speed and the rest of the ride was silent.

Arnav lived off campus unlike her who was a hostel resident and his step-father had rented out an apartment for his only son. Khushi enjoyed being in his apartment and visited whenever she wanted some peace and quiet. His entire apartment was like a big study and the house help was strictly advised not to touch any paper. She even had a spare set of clothes and her own toothbrush there as they spent many evenings talking and debating about many things. Being a student of political science, Arnav gave her a good run for her law student career when it came to governance model and legal systems.

"What happened here?" Khushi said stepping foot into his apartment. Arnav rolled his eyes but didn't respond. "Can I borrow a t-shirt? Mine kind of smells," she said taking a sniff of her t-shirt. He sighed.

"You know where my stuff is. And don't bother packing the one you are wearing; it's mine in the first place and I will ensure that it's washed so that you can borrow it again next time," he said sarcastically.

"Cool," Khushi said ignoring his barb and walked into his room to change.

Within couple of minutes, Khushi was walking back to living room where there was no furniture except for a longish futon. A television set sat on floor, connected to a VCR which was running Tom and Jerry on mute.

"Check this," Arnav said handing her a hardbound book with red paper covered on it. "Read this and tell me what you think," he said and poured himself a glass of Old Monk.

"Isn't it too early to open the bottle Arnav?" Khushi said sitting on floor and thumbed through pages. "This isn't a book," she said as she flipped through the pages.

"Not by a long shot. Read it." He said and took a sip. He pulled a book on Stalin and fell silent. He knew that Khushi was already immersed in reading and hadn't registered what he had said. He gave her a sidelong glance and smiled at his best friend. She was his first companion, first friend, first enemy, first competitor, first best friend, and first girl to see him naked and vice versa though the incident of seeing each other naked had happened they were only three.

His mother once told him that when Arnav and Khushi had met, she had made him cry and this continued till they were four. Senior Gupta was family lawyer of Senior Raizada - the man Arnav's mother had remarried. It was no secret that it was Gupta who had introduced the two.

Khushi had always been fairly outspoken girl for their age and more brazen. She had a sharp wit and a sharper tongue. Growing up together had the two reading facial cues and body languages of each other and they used it at every given opportunity. Her choosing law was a decision she had made when she was twelve but choosing political science for him came much later. After countless debates and lists of pros-cons, he had decided to study political science. They had natural interest in politics, economics and legal system – sort of a byproduct after growing up in an environment filled with people with said career choices.

Khushi had a strained relationship with her parents and he could never fathom why. Her outspokenness put her father on spot, for the choices he made and the ideas he represented. With her mother it was much complex because Khushi's idea of feminism was complete contrast to what her mother stood for. Her parents didn't get along and to escape the coldness between them, she stayed at Raizada mansion whenever she got an opportunity. The first time he saw her crying was when she was seventeen; the day the argument between her parents had escalated and the vulnerable side of her was permanently scarred. She had run out of her house, bare feet and came to his house in soaked in sweat. She had hugged him tightly and wept for an hour mumbling incoherently about her father and mother. He held her for the rest of the day till she calmed herself. After that day, he never saw her cry.

Their parents had shared a pointed look when they announced that both were enrolling at Presidency College, Calcutta. Arnav's mother had clenched her husband's palm which Arnav didn't miss. It was an open secret that his biological father was an alma mater of the said college.

"Okay, I am done." Khushi said snapping the book shut, two hours later. Arnav shook his head and cleared his mind of thoughts of his friend and the past. Her reading speed was fast, faster than his and her memory was stellar. She was intelligent and he trusted her completely. The book was a sensitive issue for him and he wanted her honest opinion.

"What do you think?" He asked, standing up. "Tea?" He asked walking towards kitchen. Khushi followed wordlessly.

"Where did you get it?" Khushi asked her voice serious. Arnav's hands stilled for a moment.

"Mom sent me a box of all things that were my father's; my father Shyam Manohar Jha. This book was sealed in a packet and was packed separately." Arnav said.

"What else was there in the box?"

"All of his journals, his prison diary, drafts of whatever you just read and some original essays which never got published. There is also research material stacked together and I haven't gone through yet." Arnav replied.

"This is a manifesto Arnav," Khushi said waving the book. "It's a proposal for how to turn this country to greatest democracy in the world," she said.

"Ironically, the book is covered in red paper," Arnav chuckled humorlessly. "Symbolic, isn't it?"

Rolling her eyes Khushi said, "Arnav, this is great stuff. But…"

"But it is impractical, right?" He finished her sentence. She nodded. "What is the primary issue you see in it? No, before that, tell me what do you think of it?"

"The approach to change the governance of this country is twofold. Firstly, a passive approach where the process itself goes for a change thus system getting changed as a byproduct and secondly, a more direct confrontational approach which results in quicker solution." Khushi summarized.

"Doesn't it sound like non-violence movement led by one section of people and more radical approach by another section during Indian war of independence?" Arnav asked.

"That's what I think. With the passive approach, or as you put it non-violence mode, social, economic, educational reforms came along with it. Fight for independence stopped being an issue to be dealt by Maharajahs but the common public was made aware of the situation. The reforms in these sectors brought about changes in society slowly but steadily and that formed the foundation of what we are standing on. I mean, we are in Calcutta and studying in a college which very much represents the birth of change," Khushi explained.

"But like you said, its time consuming and with time, changes happen on society which becomes irrevocable. So what's the harm in taking more…direct approach?" Arnav asked handing over a cup of tea to Khushi.

Khushi waited till Arnav poured himself a mug and walked to the balcony of his apartment. It was their place to hold all important discussions which shaped each other's thought process.

"It's impossible to say if it's a good thing or not Arnav. There have been examples in history which has shown us that revolutions have been good for the society and independence of the country. I know you will start giving examples from Eastern Europe, but hear me out," Khushi said seeing how Arnav was about to refute her argument. "Don't compare this country with any other's. It has the most unique diaspora and there is a reason why it's called as a sub-continent." Khushi said and took a sip of her now warm tea.

"Independence was a single common goal that the entire country would and did fight against. Anything outside this wide agenda, didn't take off. Unification of the country, Akhand Bharat, was everyone's dream. Yet there was partition; not once but twice. Post-independence, tell me one thing that India has fought for as a country. One goal they all wanted to achieve as a whole – be it the states in north-eastern parts of the country who feel they are the most ignored lot and for good reason," Khushi continued.

Arnav looked thoughtfully for a moment. "I know one thing that's happening right now," he said motioning her to finish her tea. Khushi raised an eyebrow and waited for him to respond. "Everyone in this country is praying for India to win today's match against Sri Lanka," he finished with a grin. Khushi chuckled.

"I am glad that there is at least one thing that people want. I can guarantee that people want corruption to be eradicated along with poverty, illiteracy, sanitation, crime, population explosion and the communal violence we have been seeing off late."

"What's the problem then?" Arnav asked.

"The problem doesn't lie with government or the governance Arnav but it lies with people."

"What do you mean?"

"It's the growing disinterest in people and the sudden explosion in financial sector. Only few years ago we saw the nation's biggest scam which brought the stock market to its knees. Many people died unable to cope with the amount of losses they incurred but the market continued as if nothing had happened. Still there are loopholes in the system, still they get abused and the cycle repeats. A middle class family is more interested in meeting ends meet with increase in prices than be bothered about other issues."

Arnav frowned. "Aren't we in exact same point in social perspective as we were a century ago?"

"In a way, you are right. Back then it was imperial government we were fighting against and today we are fighting against parasitic ideas which has made home in our minds. And of course eradicate our society of social issues," Khushi replied. "And that's exactly what this book also says."

"This is where I am confused Khushi. The first section of the book says that the change is a slow and laborious process which almost mimics Indian movement of non-violence. It had its own set of supporters which was a large number and it had the greatest representative – Mahatma. Whereas the second section of the book demands a much radical and direct approach which is quite similar to what Bose did – especially in the way book talks about a well-armed army of patriots ready to die for the country."

Khushi hummed in response. "Is your father saying that we need a Mahatma or a Bose for this country to gain independence from its own social evils?"

"It seems so but it's surprising that he believes that, given how well read he was and how good his analytical skills were," Arnav replied frowning.

"What do you mean?"

"Khushi, the hundred years of fight that led to our Independence was long and hard. The changes happened in every aspect of our society including the psyche of men and women. It was impossible for only one ideology to work in such a socio-diverse nation like ours. As a journalist and student of history, he very well knew about it and wouldn't make such a rookie mistake. This book almost sounds like a rant of a psychologically unstable man whose radical notions couldn't ever be practical." Arnav replied.

"This, I agree. The basic issue I perceive in his ideology is that it fundamentally requires the country to isolate itself from rest of the world and operate like a deserted island – which in today's world is practically impossible. Let's face it Arnav – social equality by abolishing concept of religion is never going to happen in a country like ours." Khushi replied flatly.

"So not even a Mahatma or Bose can save this country?" Arnav said ruefully.

"If a man like Mahatma comes, he would give up after years of fighting because his motives will be deconstructed to political strategy. If a man like Bose takes over from a man like Mahatma or fights in parallel, he would be branded as radical extremist and brandished unpatriotic. Things are much sensitive than it previously was Arnav – socially, economically and culturally we are much unstable than we were a century ago." Khushi said, in unguarded whisper.

"What would save this country then?" Arnav asked sitting straight and look at her. The question was rhetoric and he said it out loud in sheer frustration.

Khushi looked thoughtful and was silent for several minutes.

"Can we?" She asked breaking the silence. Arnav didn't respond immediately.

"This book is a sham Khushi," Arnav said and threw the book away which landed several feet away.

"I know," she replied.

"We need something more subtle, more…bizarre," he said looking at her. She watched him thinking on his feet. This was Arnav, the most brilliant person she has ever met, in his element. "It will not change this country but it will give chance for people would want to."

"What does that even mean?" Khushi asked not understanding what he was on about. Arnav stared at her face for several moments without speaking.

"Khushi, are you willing to sacrifice your morality, humanity and every good notion you have had till date for an idea?" He asked sincerely. He knew that it was worse than asking her to give up her life.

She didn't ask him why. She didn't offer a deal. She thought for several minutes and the answer came to her on its own accord.

She smiled and nodded.

Outside, the city along with the rest of the country exploded in anger and protested against one of the worst performances by Indians in the history of Indian Cricket.

Irony, was never this vulgar.

nice update