Originally posted by: smitar
Part 8 (To be updated on Friday)
Khushi sat at the dining table and stared in to her plate of poori.
The Laad Governaar! How dare he trick her? He and his ghost in white singing gumnaam he koi! She would show him what he could do with his gumnaam and his koi! She glared at the gol gol poori. A jalebi sat neglected in one corner of her plate.
Amma, Babuji, Buaji, & Payal looked at each other.
Finally, Buaji asked, "Kaa hua Titliyaa? Why are you staring at the poori as though it has stolen 100 rupees from you, Nandkisore?"
Khushi smiled widely. "Nothing, Buaji! I am feeling sleepy, that's all."
"Khussi, is the work there too much for you?" Babuji asked. "If it is, you can always tell Arnav Bitwaa that you don't want to continue with this job..." Babuji suggested.
"No, Babuji. The work is very easy. Aap ko pata he, there are so many machines in the kitchen. They do half the work. We just have to watch them do it."
"Acha?" Amma asked, curious.
"Haan, Amma. And the models don't eat anything! It is always soup-poop, salad-ballad, fruit juuuice without sugar..." Khushi enlightened her family to the travails of the models.
"Tut..tut..." Buaji sympathised with the slender damsels. "How will they find husbands, Nandkisore, when they don't have enough energy to stand up?"
"Jiji!" Khushi prodded her sleeping Jiji.
Payal opened one reluctant eye. "Kya he, Khushi?"
"Jiji, I am going out. Tonight I have to teach him a lesson." Khushi muttered, her eyes filled with a revengeful light.
Payal rubbed her eyes and yawned. "You are going to take tuition at night?"
"Haan, Jiji. I am going to take Arnav Singh Raizada's class!" Khushi jumped out of bed.
ASR lay in bed in his room on the ground floor in Sheesh Mahal, his arms crossed beneath his head, staring at the carvings on the ceiling. Aman was on the third floor, with other male staff. Di, the models, and the female staff were on the second floor. He had opted for the room he had used since childhood.
He looked around.
He had never thought that he would stay in Sheesh Mahal again. Never believed that the terrible dreams, the nightmares would let him sleep under this roof again...
But if this house held pain and horror, it also held sweet memories of his Mama, of his childhood...memories that had remained buried under a morass of pain and soul-searing anguish.
Good memories rushed through his head, as the dam suppressing them broke. Mama patting him on his chest as she sung a lullaby to help him sleep, Mama & Papa watching over him anxiously as he battled fever, Di crawling in to his blanket on a stormy night... He shut his eyes, his jaw clenched in pain. Where had those days gone? How had their lives changed beyond recognition in a few moments?
The curtains covering the open window opening out to the vast grounds danced in the wind. He opened his eyes and took in the billowing fabric. Through the gaps, he could see the dimly-lit grounds and the tall trees swaying in the chill wind.
A perfect night for ghosts.
Khushi...he smiled. The way her eyes had widened when he had told her a tall tale about ghosts! The way she had clung to his arm...he could still feel her touch through the sleeve of his coat. He had wanted to gather her in to his arms and carry her away to their own choti si duniya, keep her so close to him that no one could part them...
His fingers gently touched the spot she had gripped with her fingers.
Khushi gathered the folds of her white sari around her, cursing the Laad Governaar under her breath. How did the ghosts in the movies manage the flowing length of their garments on windy nights? Why did they have to wear sarees? Couldn't they wear salwar kameez?
And it was cold. She should have worn something warm over the sari. But how could a ghost come to scare a rakshas wearing a sweater over her white sari?
She shivered. Ever since she had met him, her life had turned upside down. He was a pest, a nuisance, an irritant worse than big mosquitoes biting one through one's clothes. Why couldn't he have remained in Delhi, frying the bheja of the people he met there? Why did he have to park himself in Lucknow?
She looked around. It was dark. Her fingers clutched the white cloth nervously. What if the real ghosts roaming about this godforsaken pile came to meet her, believing her to be one of their ilk?
"He Devi Maiyya, Devi Maiyya! Raksha karna." Khushi chanted beneath her breath.
She looked down at her feet. The anklets she had used last year to perform at Jaggu Bhaiyya's sangeet were doing their job, producing a din as she walked. Now the first thing she had to do was wake him by jingling them.
ASR turned his head towards the window, his senses sharp and alert. Was that the sound of anklets? He frowned. At this time of the night... He looked at the clock. Three minutes to midnight. Who was walking in the grounds at midnight?
Khushi walked towards the room in which ASR slept. Thank God for Manjuji! She was a fount of information regarding the manipulative Raavan!
The windows of his room were left open to the night air. He must be sleeping in his cosy bed, Khushi thought enviously, her thoughts flying to the warm bed she had left to come here.
He was sleeping comfortably, was he? She would take care of his sleep! She, Khushi Kumari Gupta, would haraam his neend!
How dare he tease her so? The smirk on his face, the way he had looked at her! She had wanted to knock that smile off his face! The way he had held her so close to him! Who was he to touch her like that? Yes, she had caught hold of his arm in fear, but why did he have to pull her so close? As though he had some haq over her? Who was she? His wife?, Khushi snorted.
Khushi walked to his window. He had said that he had heard a knock on his window, hadn't he? She knocked gleefully.
What the!
ASR jumped out of bed, and strode to the window to look out. In the moonlight and the dim gleam of the garden lights, he could see the vast expanse of his grounds. There was no one as far as his eyes could see.
Khushi stood pressed against the wall, hidden by the open window panel. He wanted to scare her, didn't he? Well, he could shiver in his boots for a change! She moved away from the window, and started barking like a dog, making wailing and howling sounds in between.
ASR frowned. What was that animal? A dog? But... why was it whining?
As he looked out through the window, he saw a slim figure in a white sari gliding over the dewy grass of his lawn.
His eyes widened. What the! Who was the idiot walking in such thin clothes on such a cold night?
Gumnam hain koyee, badnam hain koyee...
Kisko khabar, kaun hain woh, anjan hain koyee...
ASR's eyes widened.
Khushi?
Khushi was getting her own back at him for teasing her?
Joy, the kind he had never experienced in all of his 29 years, rushed through his veins like a flood. Anticipation, eagerness, the call to adventure, the thrill of meeting a challenge, and the sheer pleasure of meeting Khushi propelled him to leap out of his window on to the ground covered with moist grass. His eyes trained on the precious figure ahead of him, he moved on silent feet towards her, softly.
Gumnam hain koyee, badnam hain koyee
Kisko khabar, kaun hain woh, anjan hain koyee...
Gumnam hain koyee...
This stupid saree! It was sure to trip her! A ghost lying nose down in the grass at midnight would be a ridiculous sight rather than a scary one, she fumed.
And the absurd song! Couldn't ghosts pick something with more tempo? There were so many item songs to choose from!
And her unbound hair was flying in to her eyes in the chill wind. Khushi shivered and tried to push the strands out of her eyes.
Were her painful efforts paying off? Had she succeeded in scaring him? Was he leaning against the window sill, his head spinning?
She peeked cautiously behind her through the curtain of her hair swirling wildly around her pale and pinched face, the cold air leaching the little colour she had to start with.
The Rakshas was following her!
She almost had a heart attack.
Khushi inhaled sharply, feeling cold air rush to her lungs. Her eyes widened in dismay! Who had asked him to follow her? He was supposed to stand at his window, reeling in shock & fear!
He was gaining on her. Now there was no other go.
She gathered the pleats of her sari in her trembling fingers and made a run for it, leaving behind all efforts to sing while gliding gracefully.
Arnav watched the ghost running for her life, and let out a chuckle. This was so much fun! He speeded up his efforts to keep her in his sight, and the ghost and the rakshas made their way to the wooded fringes of the estate, away from the house.
She ran through thickets, holding her sari up, her hair flying behind her like a halo. Her breath came in choppy waves, and she winced as her arm scraped against the bark of a tree. She looked around, desperate, like a rabbit chased by scent hounds.
She spied a broken down gazebo to her right. She raced in to it.
It was in ruins, the wooden structure apparently covered with moss and creepers. Khushi looked around, scared, panting. The last thing she needed right now was a snake waiting to surprise her. He Devi Maiyya, raksha karna, she chanted silently.
ASR halted by the gazebo. She must be here, he knew. Taking shelter from the predator would be the first priority of the prey, and what better shelter than the wooden structure where he used to play with Di while his mother potted plants?
He peered in to the darkness. Yes, in the right corner...he could see a glimpse of white...
Why had he stopped running? Why was he looking towards the gazebo? Was he walking towards her?
Khushi's heart quailed.
Khushi Kumari Gupta, you idiot! Kya karne chali thi, aur kya ho gaya? she cursed herself.
She watched him walking in to the gazebo, making his way towards her. She shut her eyes tight as though her blindness would make him blind too.
Arnav walked up to Khushi. He could make out her outline clearly. He moved closer to her till he could see her standing with her back pressed against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to draw in enough air to keep standing. Her eyes were tightly shut, and her hands were pressed against the smooth panel of the wooden wall.
He moved as close to her as he could, feeling his heart pick up the tempo of hers. He looked down at her face with deep delight. He had caught her. She was with him. At night, in the dark, just the two of them...like in his dreams. Wild jasmine and clumps of roses growing on unruly creepers covering the ruined gazebo filled the air with heady perfume. The cold air seemed to heighten their isolation from the rest of the world.
He bent his head and blew against her eyelashes.
The warm gust of air sent her eyelashes flying up. She looked in to his face with scared eyes.
"Khushi..." he whispered.
Khushi panted, her eyes trapped by his.
He lifted his hand to touch the creamy expanse of her cheek.
Khushi's heart leaped. She ducked and tried to run away.
At the very last moment, his hard, warm fingers caught hold of her slender arm and pulled her back against the wall.
"Now where will you escape off to, Khushi Kumari Gupta?" he growled in her ear, lowering his face to hers.
Wind blew her hair against his face, the silky, fragrant strands caressing the stern, lean, sharp features.
He breathed in deep, trying to inhale her, keep her within him, lock her in his heart, and throw away the key.
Khushi shuddered, more from the strange pleasure of his warm nearness and his musky scent than from the cold.
"Raizadaji..." she whispered.
He moved closer. "Trying to scare me, were you?" he asked, his hot breath stinging the fine hairs of her facial skin.
Khushi swallowed nervously, trembling. His presence near her was a torment she couldn't bear a moment longer.
Her arms rose involuntarily, and tried to make a gap between their torsos. They pressed against the soft white T-shirt covering his hard, warm, muscled chest, trying to push him away. She could feel his heart thudding beneath her fingertips.
Her whole body trembled as though racked by fever.
He caught hold of her hands in a gentle but firm hold, and slowly lowered them to fall by her sides.
"You have much to learn about me, Khushi Kumari Gupta..." he drawled. "I never lose. I win, always."
Defiant eyes rose to his amused, intent ones.
"The loser always has to pay a penalty, Khushi. What will you forfeit?" his soft utterance send a thrill of danger down her spine.
She tried to glare at him.
"I think...a kiss..." ASR decided.
Astonished eyes rose to his playful ones. "NO!" she cried, scandalised.
"No?" he sounded disappointed. "OK. This time, I will let you off easy."
Khushi waited, her heart thumping madly.
"Call me Arnav." he demanded.
"What?" Khushi yelped.
"My name. My name is Arnav, not Laad Governaar, not Rakshas, not any other pet name you come up with at regular intervals." he said. "Call me Arnav." he demanded.
"No." She was stubborn.
Arnav nodded. "OK. We can remain here the whole night, like this, sharing body warmth, looking at each other..."
Khushi gulped. No, no. He Devi Maiyya!
"If your Buaji finds out that you have placed pillows in a line on your bed and dragged the covers over them to fool her..." he said, contemplatively, casually.
"Arnav...ji..." Khushi whispered quickly.
"What did you say? Theek se sunai nahi diya." he said, his head cocked, his eyes dancing in delight.
Khushi pursed her lips in fury.
"Arnavji." she whispered.
ASR relaxed, his name on her lips sounding sweeter than honey to him.
Taking the opportunity, she pushed him away, and tried to escape.
He caught hold of her arm.
"I will take you home." he said. "I don't want you singing and scaring any other man tonight."
Part 7: 94825050 Part 9: 95234501 (To be updated on Monday)
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
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