Posted:
Awasome update! I like that Khushi is not giving in so easily. Arnav has to realise his mistake.
I really ought to be studying...but I had to get this out of my system to be able to concentrate:p I'm not sure how this one turned out, it was honestly the hardest chapter I had to write. I guess it's more difficult for me to write from Khushi's perspective coz she's been through so much:( so I'm counting on feedback:)
Chapter Eight
The stage was set.
Arnav felt restless, as anxiety tossed and turned in his stomach, its heaving and sinking not helping his nerves. He was on edge with apprehension, wondering whether the measures he had taken would bear fruit, whether they would fail, what he would do if they failed, how he would be able to deal with failure. Arnav realised that his thoughts were relentlessly steering themselves into pessimism, and staunchly rotated them back into position as he attempted to chew on whatever it was he happened to be eating, which he could not really taste nor identify.
It was lunchtime, and the entire entourage of the Raizada family had only just returned from the hospital. Akash had arrived at the hospital with Naniji and the rest of the family soon after Arnav had picked up Garima and Buaji, and it was quite a crowd which had gathered in the private suite Arnav had booked for catering to Shashi's specific needs. If anything, the mood in that room was even more heady than it had been in the living room the night before. The spacious ward had suddenly become cramped as a bevy of emotions ranging from excitement to delight battled for dominance. Shashi Gupta, enervated and bed ridden, beamed with inexpressible happiness as he lay surrounded by his family, his wife smiling through her endless tears, his sister almost inflating with the joy that she for once could not put into words, both his daughters almost on their knees as they clasped one hand each, which he, to their immeasurable joy, clasped back. There was a surprising lack of words in that whole occasion, with the Guptas (and the ex-Guptas) overwhelmed to the point of being rendered speechless. But there was no lack of communication. It was as if each gesture, each smile, each tear conveyed so much meaning between that little family that no words were required.
Arnav stood outside this flurry of activity, content to just be a silent spectator.
However, it was only one person on whom his eyes were fixed.
Khushi, bowled over by the sheer joy of having her father healthy and well, perhaps a little worn but all right all the same, had let her guard down completely, and Arnav basked in her radiance. He admired from afar, again and again, the brilliance of her smile, which shone out like a beacon from the midst of the other faces, which lit up her pale face. He admired the pink flush which coloured her skin, her eyes which no longer fended him off with that wall barring his entry into the depths of her soul: her eyes which danced, twinkled, sparkled, glistened with joy.
And although the very same sight had filled him with such bliss the previous evening, Arnav felt his heart ache for its beauty. He wanted her to smile, yes, but it wasn't enough anymore. He wanted to be the reason behind her smile, he wanted to be the one it was addressed to. He wanted to share, to claim his part, in that smile.
He had decided to step up his game.
'Khushi', Anjali's voice broke into his thoughts and he was jerked back into the present, 'you look exceptionally beautiful today...you're almost glowing!'
Arnav's eyes darted to Khushi for their own appraisal. Shyam had been absent from breakfast and still had not returned, because, as Anjali had informed the family, he had some 'urgent business' to take care of. Arnav had seized that chance to occupy his empty seat beside Di, directly opposite Khushi, leaving her no chance to escape his scrutinising gaze. She refused to meet his eyes, but at least he could her watch now.
Examining her, he had to disagree with his Di. Khushi was not 'almost glowing'; she was positively beaming.
'Your love for your father shows so clearly... ever since last night, it's like you are brand new person. You must have had a good night's sleep last night, right?'
And Khushi, immediately, without thinking, gushed, 'Yes, Anjaliji, that was the best night's sleep I've had in a long time.'
It took her about five seconds to realise what she had said. And she promptly blushed deep crimson, straight up to the roots of her hair.
Arnav could not help but break into a lop-sided smirk, which he was having enormous difficulty in preventing from turning into a full blown grin which he was sure would raise awkward questions. His anxiety evaporated completely for a moment, replaced by a cosy sensation that coursed through his veins.
Khushi's eyes flickered helplessly from side to side as she fought not to look up at Arnav. She knew, in fact could almost feel, his eyes on her, and blushed even more furiously.
Anjali, blissfully unaware of what was going on, said in a slightly reproving tone, 'You really need to get used to calling me Di now, Khushi. Personally, I've always wanted to have a little sister like you... and Chote's made that wish come true too! Won't you call me Di?' And she pouted, her face falling so adorably that Khushi could not help but feel a smile, a genuine smile, stretch across her face.
Her skin continued to prickle though, and her heart was busily performing a series complicated stunts in her chest: he was still watching her. Khushi tried to divert her attention. Thankfully at that moment, Akash picked up Payal's glass of juice by mistake, and took a long swig before realising that his own glass was right in front of him. As he attempted to apologise to Payal, with a sweet, sheepish look on his face, Khushi interrupted lightly, the hint of a laugh in her voice,
'No need to apologise Jeeju. After all, jhootha khaane se pyaar bartha hai'.
Arnav watched Khushi with interest as her own words sank in. As Akash grinned at the comment and offered his glass to Payal while Payal shied away, flushing and throwing a mildly reproachful look in Khushi's direction, Khushi herself turned to a most alluring shade of red, her cheeks flaming and adding a sweet splash of colour to the cream of her skin.
Arnav could not help it. He grinned.
Never one to believe in symbolism, or coincidence, or anything else that he could not pin down to actual fact, he felt his heart swell and rise up to his throat, making swallowing difficult. He had never in his life seen anything so...so...well- so cute.
That was just it. Khushi was unbearably cute, so cute that looking at her made his frozen heart thaw and smoulder and melt, inundating all his senses with a sense of comfort so palpable he almost felt he would start floating out his chair if he was not careful.
***
So immersed was he in his own musings that it took a while for him to realise that Khushi's expression had changed.
His heart skipped a beat as he noted, frantically trying to ignore the biting bold creeping through his flesh, that her skin had paled to an almost ghostly white, making him doubt his own eyes as he tried to find the traces of the blush that had coloured her cheeks so prettily moments before. She sat silently, unnaturally still, staring down at her plate unblinkingly.
There was an almost blind look in her eyes.
Arnav had always been incredibly sensitive when it came to Khushi, his senses almost fine-tuned to detect her presence, to decipher each and every one of her emotions. And at this moment, he felt a horrible, bottomless feeling rush past him, through him, over him, as he sensed rather than saw Khushi drift away from him, felt with growing dread an empty, hollow distance bloom between them. It was as though suddenly her entire being had been redirected inwards, into herself, as she retreated into a world beyond the physical, beyond the realm she shared with him.
The cold threatened to break upon him, mercilessly clawing at him as he struggled to understand what had happened. And then it clicked.
She's trying to hide again. She's trying to protect herself. The wall was back in place. Khushi was slipping back into denial.
Arnav's hand fisted on the table; it was now or never.
'Khushi', he said, quiet loudly and pointedly, his firm voice belying the panic he was trying to suppress as he tried to break through Khushi's reverie. He cleared his throat again, and repeated, slightly louder, 'Khushi!'
The invisible, chillingly formidable force which has been luring his Khushi away from him slackened its hold. With an almost imperceptible start, she sat up straighter, raising her eyes, clouded over with confusion, to look at him, almost as though she were in a daze.
Arnav's insides clenched as relief washed over him while he said to her quietly, thankful for the cover provided by the numerous discussions taking place around the table, 'I left my wallet upstairs, on the bed. Will you go get it for me please?'
He watched with bated breath as the words got through to Khushi, slowly, the dazed expression on her face gradually being replaced by a certain hesitance which tugged unendurably at his heartstrings. Fighting the urge to reach across the table and grab her hand, he whispered again, 'Please?'
***
Khushi was exhausted.
Fatigue weighed down on her relentlessly as her feet carried her automatically to the bedroom, her mind preoccupied in a haze of intermingling thoughts.
She decided she preferred it when he was barking orders at her than when he was requesting. At least those sharp commands, uttered with a look bordering on animalistic anger, did not leave her in any doubt about where she stood with him, about what her position was in his life.
She did not allow her thoughts to trail over what she went through afterwards.
Yes, she preferred being shouted at. It took less effort for her to survive those moments. Suddenly Khushi felt the exhaustion which had been building up since she had married into this family crash down on her, making her knees give way. She felt herself sink to the floor, her eyes heavy with tiredness, drooping shut as she made half-hearted attempts to fight the blackness.
Khushi had been fighting since the day she got married. Her world had disintegrated, broken down into so many fine particles right in front of her eyes that she was not sure she could ever piece them back together. And what frightened her, robbed her of her nights of sleep and thrust her into darkness in broad daylight, was that there was nothing she could hold onto, nothing she could comfort herself with during her moments of dismay, as she was tossed around through the tumultuous gale of the black, stormy sea that her life had become.
She could see no hope, no ray of the light at the end of the tunnel. Any thought of the future flooded her with dread so acute she felt sharp knives of it pierce through her, surrounded her with such oppressive darkness that she found herself groping around in it, panicking desperately to find a way out.
Eventually, Khushi had found a middle ground where she could keep herself, a tiny little corner she had carved up to shield herself from the assault of the monstrous sea. It was a battle of epic proportions, silent but deadly, which raged within her every day as she fought to keep herself steadily in the present moment. She refused to think about the past, about those moments, those beautiful, blissful moments when she had experienced promise, a promise so blindingly beautiful she had hardly dared to believe; but fate had other things in mind, and before belief could take root it had been toppled over ruthlessly. She refused to think of the future, a future that stretched out in front of her like a deserted, empty corridor receding into the shadows. Not knowing where her life was going. Not knowing what she would face ahead. Not knowing whether she could survive it, whatever it was.
Khushi opened her eyes blearily, as the shades of blue in the room she was in swam in and out of focus before gently falling back into place. She pushed herself off the floor, still tired, still exhausted, still engaged in her struggle. It was no easy task to control one's mind so effectively as she did, filtering her thoughts carefully, warning her mind every time it threatened to get carried away. She ignored words, phrases, suggestions which threatened to rip open the huge holes in her life which she had covered with makeshift plugs, weaving her own reality into the reality she was living in.
Arnav's request suddenly burst into the scene and landed squarely in front of her, shattering the frail peace she had made with herself. She shuddered as her thoughts picked up their pace, charging ahead with no sense of direction. She strained herself to reel those thoughts back in; she could not afford to think about them, she could not afford to examine the implications of her thoughts, his actions, the tone of his voice, his expression, that single word...
Please...
Khushi scrunched up her face, her hands flying up to grip her hair tightly, willing the pain to drive out those memories which hovered maliciously about her, looking for an opening where they could strike a blow. Closing her eyes, breathing in quickly and sharply, Khushi tried to restore some semblance of control before she finally drove herself to walk to the bed and pick up the wallet, which had been lying open on it.
And tucked neatly into the clear plastic pocket of the wallet was a picture.
Taken on the sangeet night.
Of someone in a green saree, long black hair billowing behind her while an uncertain smile played about her lips.
A picture of her.
Pleeease leave your likes and comments:) And I suppose I'll be changing this SS into an FF soon...:)
| topics | author | replies | views | reply |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Rizz-ington | 34 | 5280 | ||
| abavi | 247 | 91159 |
comment:
p_commentcount