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Loving it...so happy you started another one, .loved your last one ! Brought a smile just as the name indicated !
(-NishaSobti-'s fabulous banner!)
Part 4
The house was owned by a Shukla. A Mohan Shukla. Khushi paid rent to him, a measly amount. He frowned at the paper with the details. Why such a small amount?
The house was actually rented out by Shukla to a Pandit Sasi Sharma. Who was he? How was he related to Khushi?
The paper also had a list of Khushi's scheduled programmes and details of the organisers of the concerts and the members of the bands she associated with. She would not escape him. His power was immense, his contacts numerous. Arnav smiled, his lips twisting in mockery. Khushi would soon know who Arnav Singh Raizada was. She was nothing more than a fly trapped in his web. His web of need, of want, of... of l... He stopped himself.
Aman flinched seeing Arnav Singh Raizada smile. It boded ill for someone, most likely Khushi Kumari Gupta. She would rue the day she had set eyes on him.
"Aman.", the soft, dangerous voice called him back to earth. "What is the relationship between Khushi & Sharma? Who the hell is he?"
"I... I have no idea, Sir."
"Find out."
By evening, Aman placed a file containing the few bits of info he could gather in such a short time.
Arnav flipped it open, eager to find out more about Khushi.
Sasi Sharma was a musician, a singer. Something of a recluse. He left the house only twice during the year, to participate in two of the most prestigious classical music concert series in India. The rest of the time, he taught a handful of students in Anand Sadan. There was no clear photo of this eccentric and very private genius as he had an allergy to being photographed. Khushi lived with him. Had been living with him for years. No one knew the details of the relationship between them.
Arnav clenched his jaw. He could feel heat suffuse his face. She would not stay with Sharma anymore. She was his. Only his...
"Get me Mohan Shukla."
His cold voice sent a chill down Aman's spine.
Khushi placed the phone on the table, her hand trembling. Two of her public performances had been cancelled. The organizers had called her to apologise for their inability to conduct those programmes. She had been shocked, but had managed to ask them why. Years of cordial relationship between them had forced the men to tell her the truth. Arnav Singh Raizada had threatened them with ruin if they included her in any of their programmes.
She sat down, her hands clasped in her lap. She drew deep breaths, eyes closed. If their income was affected, then food, clothing, school fees, rent, medical bills, lawyer's fees... How would she meet them?
She pressed her clasped hands to her heart, and prayed desperately for divine help.
A sharp cut in expenses was essential. No, not just essential, but unavoidable. And all would have to be told in the next couple of days.
That
evening, all the children and adults gathered in the small temple within the
courtyard of the house as usual, and sang bhajans and prayed in gratitude for
the new chance at life they had been given, the roof over their heads, and their many blessings...
Khushi stood on the fringes of the crowd, the pallu of her red sari draped over her head, hands folded, singing along with the others, looking at the happy faces of the children, praying earnestly to Devi Maiyya for deliverance from their troubles.
A hand touched her shoulder gently.
"Chotu?", she turned around to look at the lanky teenager, standing just behind her. He smiled, and said in her ear, "Di, someone wants to see you urgently."
Khushi nodded, smiling at him, caressing his cheek. Must be someone from the store. She had asked Kishorilalji to send someone to collect the money for the groceries they had purchased for the month.
Khushi wrapped the pallu tighter around her head & shoulders as she walked in to the living room in the main building of the house. There was a cold wind blowing. She hoped Akki wouldn't start coughing tonight.
Arnav watched her walking towards the room he was waiting in. Her graceful figure was draped in a red sari and a blouse that had long sleeves and covered her waist. The pallu over her head covered everything except her face. Her face! Her face looked drawn, the smile absent. Something clenched in the region of his heart. She must have got the news of her concerts being cancelled.
Who were the children gathered in the temple? The boy who had opened the door to him? Her students? Where was Sasi Sharma? Then a thought flashed through his mind. Were... were some of these kids hers and and Sasi Sharma's? His eyes hardened into cold ice.
She lifted
her right leg over the doorstep to enter the living room. He looked at her bare
foot, the well-shaped ankle adorned by a simple silver anklet.
Her eyes fell on Arnav Singh Raizada, and her breath caught in her chest. He had reached her home. Now where would she run?
(UltimateBarun, thanx!)
He looked into her startled eyes. They looked bruised, as though she had not slept properly for days. A wave of shame rose and fell over him. What was he doing? He had never, ever done anything of this sort before. Why was he doing this now? Why did she have such a hold over him that the very thought of losing her, not making her his, was enough to drive him mad?
"Come with me.", he said softly.
She looked at him, unable to understand him.
"Give up your fight. You can never win against me. Come with me now."
Khushi swallowed a big ball of pain and worry that had lodged itself in her throat.
"No.", she said.
Arnav was about to speak when someone entered the room. A girl. About 8 or 10 years old. She had a white cane to find her way.
"Di Amma!", she called, her blind eyes searching for Khushi.
"Haan, Simi. I am here."
The child smiled. "Di Amma, Baba is asking for you."
Khushi became alert. "I will be there in a minute."
"I will tell him." Simi made her way out of the room.
Baba! Sasi Sharma must be the Baba. His face hardened.
Khushi looked at an Arnav Singh Raizada standing like a pillar in her living room. She said, "Please excuse me. I need to..."
He didn't want to hear of her going to Sasi Sharma. He said, "It will be in your best interests to hear what I have to say. After all, it is a matter of losing the roof over your heads."
Khushi looked at him, confused.
"You can get ready to move out of this house, Anand Sadan, if you don't change your mind about my offer." His voice and eyes were cold.
"Ji?"
"One week. You have one week to decide. If you decide not to be mine, you can hand over the key to this house to me next Monday." He dropped his card on the tiny table nearby.
"But..., but...", Khushi tried to make sense of what was happening. "We pay rent to Mohanji."
"Yes, a measly amount. Do you call that a rent? Shukla sold the house to me."
Khushi's face paled. It looked almost bloodless against the crimson colour of the sari. His breath stopped for a second.
"You... you own the house now?"
He looked at her, silent.
"You want us to l..leave this h..house?"
She looked around. The table mats that Akansha had made over two months, the walls painted by all of them because they could not afford painters, the temple where they all prayed daily in the morning & evening, the halls where they conducted music lessons and small concerts, the kitchen where they all cooked and laughed, the dining hall where they all had their food together, the railings Vivek had fixed so that she could walk without any one's help on one of her bad days... So many memories of years of love and togetherness! Tears clogged her throat. He swallowed hard, looking at the devastation on her face.
(UltimateBarun, thanx!)
"Let me know before Monday.", he croaked. He walked out, unable to look at the pain on her face for a moment longer.
Part 5: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/topic/3239275?pn=43
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