Posted:
Aww the picture thing was sweet but I'm hoping it was there the whole time rather than Arnav just putting it in recently for Khushi to see.
OK, I'm so excited!! I just read a spoiler saying that Shashi Gupta might be the only one aware of Khushi's majboori...so I'm really hopeful that some aspect of my take on IPKKND might actually be shown in the serial!! *fingers crossed*
Chapter Nine
She came down the stairs in a trance.
Arnav, having given up on trying to wait patiently for her, was pacing near the stairs, pretending to be busily texting away on his Blackberry while shooting furtive glances at the stairs every two seconds. Nervous anticipation possessed his being.
Trying as much as possible to ignore the uncomfortable churning in his stomach, he wondered whether Khushi had seen her picture in his wallet, which he had placed so carefully open in the middle of the bed, in plain view. He wondered what her reaction would be if she saw it. Whether it would help her realise that he did not mean, even for a fraction of a second, what he had said when he had snarled at her that he never wanted to see her face again. That that was probably the most blatant lie ever told on the face of the earth.
He wondered whether her admitting that last night, which she had spent snugly fitted into his embrace, had been a remarkably restful night, meant as much to her as it meant to him.
He wondered whether she believed, as staunchly as he did, the words she had spoken when Akash had accidentally taken a drink from Payal's glass.
He wondered whether she had also remembered the moment in the kitchen this morning, when he had finished off the tea she had been drinking.
He felt like a little boy, collecting coins with unparalleled fanaticism and dedication, neatly docketing away memories, small, perhaps insignificant by superficial standards, but memories he cherished all the same, into the chambers of his heart.
The tinkling of her anklets snapped him out of his thoughts.
Khushi approached him, her hand outstretched, holding out his wallet for him.
And Arnav felt a biting cold swallow him as goosebumps erupted all over on his skin.
Her eyes...
The wall behind her eyes, the wall that he had vowed to demolish, was gone. Instead, Arnav felt he was looking into a hollow, a black hole threatening to suck him in, with promise of nothing but empty wishes and broken dreams. He saw no light in those eyes, no trace of the exuberant girl who had lived up to her name by being a burst of sunshine, spreading happiness wherever she went. The eternal hope that burned like a stubborn flame in her eyes had gone out.
There was nothing there but sheer black hopelessness.
In that moment, Arnav could have kicked himself. Shredded himself piece by piece, limb by limb, torturously, agonisingly slow. He realised too late his mistake.
He had sought to tear down the barrier Khushi had erected to defend herself, without pausing to consider that without that barrier, Khushi would have nothing to lean on. He had neglected to consider that in crumbling that wall he was crumbling her very existence. The fortress that she had created around her, which refused doggedly to let him in, was no different from the anger, the indifference he had hidden behind for so many years to protect himself from experiencing loss again.
But he had forgotten that Khushi had lost far too much to have anything to hold on to. That her fragile existence depended on keeping out reality, a reality which had been forced on her in the most terrible of ways.
He did not realise that in trying to break through her defences, he was pushing her to the brink, to the very edge, of the world of shadows he feared.
The day you believe in God, I will not be with you.
The words sprung up on him, catching him by surprise, a nasty, nauseating surprise. He felt his chest constrict painfully as he struggled for air, while the darkness which seemed to perpetually hover over his horizon threatened to capture him.
She's lost all hope, the small voice in his head, dormant since that morning, informed him sagely.
What do I do? Arnav heard his own voice, almost unrecognisable, laced with panic.
The small voice was uncompromising, brutally honest. You did not believe in her, and now she...does not trust you.
Arnav stood like a man marooned on a deserted coast, not knowing where to go, or what to do. He did not even notice that Khushi had walked away, with that same haunted look in her eyes, as soon as he had taken the wallet from her. His pupils dilated, blood rushed away from his face, leaving him feeling cold, so bitterly cold.
Hope frantically sought shelter from the hail storm that lingered above them, attempting to cover itself futilely with its broken wing.
***
Arnav had been driving at almost breakneck speed for almost three hours.
He did not where he was going. He did not know what he was going to do.
Somehow, he had expected the speed to calm his nerves, to restore some control, some sense, some perspective back to him. But speed seemed to lead to a craving for more speed, a need to break out of himself, of the prison his body had become, tormenting him. Arnav broke into a cold sweat as the onslaught of thoughts, self-loathing, self-deprecating, needle-sharp and brimming over with blame threatened to push him overboard completely.
And he wound up stopping at the last place he would have expected to find himself.
He opened his door, kicking it roughly so it would open, but did not descend. He did not look around, although he knew the place well enough. He had found Di here after she had left home. He had followed Khushi here when she'd cut herself. He had bandaged the wound here.
If only he could bandage the millions of wounds he had meted out since, cuts which ran far deeper than her flesh. Wounds which had scarred her soul.
Arnav felt himself tremble as he closed his eyes, covering them with his palms only to realise that his forehead was covered by a fine film of sweat. He could not control his shivering as he continued to perspire, feeling feverish, feeling drained from the turmoil he was going through.
But he still did not get off the car.
His relationship with God was not one to be subject to speculation, for as far as he was concerned, he had learnt early on in his life that there was no god. He refuted anything to do with religion or faith as persistently as his sister clung to it. The hardships of his childhood, now a distant memory, had taught him that one's life was in one's own hands, and that only he was the master of his fortune. His philosophy had never let him down before, and he had never found himself seeking solace from an other-worldly, divine being.
But today, ice-cold fear had rendered him numb, his blood freezing in his veins, as he felt Khushi's words come back to haunt him again and again.
The day you believe in God, I will not be with you.
Again he felt himself fall into an airless void. Again he felt shadows pressing in on him from all sides.
His shaking did not subside, his thoughts feverishly failing to grip one train of thought, preferring instead to leap from one journey to another, leaving him giddy and nauseous. The floodgate within him strained under the pressure of holding back a rush of emotions he was not sure he was prepared to feel.
A keen, shrill sound pierced its way through his jumbled thought processes. Arnav jerked up, fumbling to cling onto that sound, hoping that it would pull him out of the sea of black surrounding him.
'I don't want to cry, I don't want to...', it was the voice of a little boy, sobbing, his words breaking as he fought to check his tears, 'I can't cry...'
A soothing voice, feminine, gentle to the ears, murmured, close by:
'There is nothing wrong with crying...you shouldn't stop yourself, it'll only hurt more'.
'But it means I'm weak! I don't want to be weak!'
A tinkling laugh, compassionate.
'But crying does not make you weak. Don't you know that it takes strength, it takes courage, to cry?'
A momentary lapse in the sobbing. A sniffling sound.
'What?'
'Yes, of course. It takes a lot of courage to let all one's pain stream away in a single moment. It takes a lot of strength to let all the hurt go with your tears, to start life afresh once you have.'
A pause. A promising silence. Arnav sat up, straining his ears to hear more.
'Really?'
'Of course, really. Now let's go home, it's getting late. Papa wants to meet his brave little soldier too doesn't he?'
Arnav almost vaulted himself out of the car in his hurry to catch a glimpse of the owners of those voices. He caught sight of them just as they rounded the corner of the four-wheeler, disappearing behind it.
A little boy with a deep gash on his arm. Wrapped gently with the pallu of his mother's saree.
His pain, bandaged with his mother's love.
***
Khushi sat on one of the deckchairs by the poolside, staring unseeingly at a corner of the water, shimmering dark indigo as the evening fell around her.
She was not really there. Nor was she anywhere else.
Dreams, hope, thoughts.
Thoughts, wishes, pain.
Pain, hurt, tears.
Tears, tears, heart.
Broken. Heart broken.
She did not have to turn around to feel his presence behind her. Her skin tingled, her breath caught, her heart sped up. The air seemed to suddenly thicken with tension; she could almost see wisps and flashes of it swish and zoom by, like a flurry of fireflies dancing over crackling flames.
But something was not right.
Khushi turned around.
Arnav stood before her like a man in a dream. The dim light by the poolside did not allow her to see his face, but there was no mistaking that defeated stance, as though he was having trouble staying on his feet. They shuffled forward as they slowly dragged him closer to her, and the closer he got, the more impregnable Khushi's apprehension became. All her insecurities, her fears disappeared into thin air, replaced simultaneously by concern. Then anxiety. Then fear. Then terror.
As he finally reached the deckchair where Khushi sat, her face lifted up, her eyes round almost in fascination, she noted with a sinking feeling behind her navel the haggard look on his face. His hair was unkempt, his shirt crumpled, the buttons of his vest not properly done. He looked like he had just battled his way through a thunderstorm.
Something had gone horribly wrong.
But Khushi could not get herself to speak. Try as she might, her lips, her tongue defied the commands of her mind point-blank, failing to formulate meaningful words which would help douse the burning within her, which threatened to consume her as her overexerted brain tried to come up with a viable explanation.
Khushi gasped when Arnav fell down on his knees in front of her, his hands landing lightly on either side of her on the deckchair. In the light streaming in through the glass doors opening into his bedroom, Khushi managed to get a closer look at his face, which had so far been in shadow. What she saw made her breath catch, making it more and more difficult, more and more painful to draw in air and release it.
She had only seen him like this once before. The day he had rushed to the temple steps to his sister. The day she discovered the other side of ASR. The day she discovered Arnav.
She felt herself stagger back as the full brunt of those emotions, directed that day to the most important person in his life, was directed towards her.
Arnav was looking into her eyes with tenderness, a tenderness so disarming she felt her heart careen wildly out of control, countering recklessly the strict commands her mind was issuing to it. Never before, since Khushi had known him, had he seen his eyes look so expressive, so very soulful. They brimmed over with unshed tears, the sight of which squeezed her heart painfully, their magnetic pull almost reaching into her and pulling out the very core of her being, which she had so painstakingly buried out of sight of the world. Her breathing started to come in short gasps as the never-ending war between her mind and her heart resumed with full vigour, as she fought herself to look away from those eyes.
But they refused to relinquish their hold. Those caramel brown eyes spoke to her today with words his lips never uttered, bore promises that she did not dare to believe, begged trust that she had bound up tightly within herself. She could drown forever in the liquid depths of those eyes, the infinite softness that welled up from them melting her defences, leaving her no chance to build them up again. Khushi felt questions, phrases, disappear into wisps of smoke before they could find their way to her lips. Not that words were needed. Those eyes, that expression underlined with care, with devotion, with fear of loss, said everything her heart had once craved to hear, which he had once strived to deny.
Before she knew what was happening, before she could even begin to gather her defences, Arnav threw his arms around her waist and buried his face in her lap. She felt the warmth of his breath, of his skin, of his tears, through the material of her saree, against her skin. She felt herself go stock still.
His voice did not sound anything like his when he spoke. All authority, all fierceness, all coldness had gone; his voice, muffled, was heavy with a dozen different emotions Khushi's flustered mind could not begin to classify. He mumbled into her lap.
'I'm so sorry, Khushi...I'm so sorry I did not believe you...'
His arms around her tightened, securing her against him as though afraid she would leave. That she would disappear. He shook with sobs, his entire frame shuddering convulsively, as he unburdened days and days of despair at her feet.
Khushi's insides knotted tightly, unfurling in loops and curls only to compress again. Her head felt like it would explode soon, as every cell in her body went into red alert, slamming down their iron gates, mobilising themselves to fend off the dangers she had trained herself against so meticulously, so tirelessly. She was panting, almost as though she had been running for miles and miles on end. Her mind threatened to go into complete shut down.
But her heart refused to listen. Her dhak dhak sang out inexorably, and nothing she or her mind or circumstances or memories would say would stop it.
Khushi's brain noted, with a calm not shared by her erratic heartbeat, that her hands lay limp on each side of her. She felt something rear within her, something almost alive and pulsing with fierce affection, calling on her, shouting at her, to move, to hold, to console the broken man who wept freely in front of her. But her mind was not prepared to back down without a fight, and while a horrendous battle waged within Khushi, her hands remained motionless, not heeding any of command urging her to move. She simply could not. She could feel the sea against her horizon, just beyond her mind's eyes, threatening to come crashing down on her if she made the mistake of letting her guard down.
But her heart still refused to listen. And in one final, decisive charge, heart knocked over mind, and Khushi felt the tiniest, thinnest ray of light filter into her dark corridor, enthralling her, beckoning her forward to a way out.
***
Arnav felt something warm and wet fall against his cheek as he strove to bury himself in Khushi's warmth, her fragrance, her very existence. It trailed its way gently down his face, almost as though it knew where it was going, before it mingled with his own tears.
And hope shook its wings open, peeking out with relief at the brief spell of sunshine on a cloudy day.
Please like and leave your comments:) I read and appreciate all of them so...
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