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KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 052)
IT IS NOT OFTEN SAID---and not said often enough---that there is a significant dark side to love. And though she had never intended to love this difficult disobliging man, Khushi had, in reluctant increments, eventually fallen for Arnav Singh Raizada. And now she loved him so completely that all claim to independent happiness was forfeited. This was the dark side: If Arnav was disturbed, she could not be happy; even when she did not agree with the nature of his disturbance.
She watched a frown gather on Arnav's forehead as Yash lead Anjali into the house. They were alone so she took his face in her hands and forced his attention on her.
"He is not Shyam," she pointed out, mildly.
Clearly, this was the wrong thing to say.
"What?! Do you think I want to hear that, Khushi? Did you know what Shyam was until he showed himself? Unbelievable logic!" Arnav snapped. He removed her hands from his face so they dropped to her side.
Khushi stiffened at his misdirected anger.
"Don't bark and snap at me, you---you YOU Snapster!"
"Snapster? What the f**k did you just call me?" His frown deepened at this unwelcome christening.
She replied by threatening him with an index finger under his nose, her eyes narrowing, "Don't use that word in my presence!"
It would have been a fine thing if her husband had simply apologized and hung his head in shame. But this was Arnav Singh Raizada. Instead he folded his arms over his chest and with a slight smirk, he asked, "What word?"
"You know!"
"What word? Snapster?" he toyed.
"The F-word!" she said, in English.
He was now smiling openly at her, thus elevating her fury. "The F-word," he mimicked. "I used it the other night and you didn't seem to object then---"
"---The context was different," she protested. And she felt herself colour. "I don't like hearing you use that word when you are angry. Then it becomes ugly."
"I see," he agreed. He stepped closer and without touching her, he leaned towards her and requested in an intimate low voice, "Let me hear you say it, Khushi! I'll enjoy hearing it from your sexy mouth."
Khushi balked at his audacity. How dare he provoke her sexually in this moment when she was furious! "You think I won't say it?" she challenged.
He shrugged to imply that he would believe it when he heard it.
Khushi dismissed him with a cool glance. She approached to climb the stairs and lifted her saree practically to her knees. She looked over her shoulder. She had his fullest attention. Now was the moment.
"F**k off, Mr Raizada!" She dropped the words, enjoyed his horrified, startled response and then raced up the stairs. She entered Buaji's house, breathless but triumphant. Infuriating man!
Several sets of expectant eyes descended on her. The eyeballs then shifted to the space behind her, where they expected to find Arnav standing.
Khushi said, "He'll be in shortly. He had to take a phone call..."
She threw a look over her shoulder and found that indeed her husband was on the phone. Humph! Devi Maiyya had gifted her with a lover with whom she was telepathically connected----but with whom standard communication very often failed.
She turned back to greet Buaji, her parents and Mrs Malhotra----all who were in animated discussion with Anjali and Yash about the Lucknow weekend. Little Khushi's request for ice cream was going unheard, so Khushi swept her into the kitchen where she spooned a dish of strawberry ice cream into a bowl. She sat the girl on the kitchen counter with bowl and spoon and turned to the pantry to search for ice-cream wafers.
When she turned back, she found Arnav casually leaning against the counter, next to Little Khushi. She met his eyes bravely.
He lifted an eyebrow, and stated, "There is a vast difference between how I use that word and how you just used it."
Khushi shrugged, "is that right?" She was aware that a four-year old was absorbing every word of their conversation. With her eyes she made her husband aware of the same. And then offered the girl some wafers.
He looked at Little Khushi and asked her, "Now does your father punish?"
"No story at bedtime," the girl replied promptly without looking up, and dipping a wafer into the ice-cream.
Arnav met Khushi's eyes and promised her, "no story for you tonight then."
"I'll manage without," she replied sassily.
Arnav asked Little Khushi, "Do you mind?" And without waiting for the girl to reply, he stuck his index finger deep into her bowl, scooped up some ice cream and when Khushi opened her mouth to question, he stuck his finger into her mouth.
Khushi's mouth instinctively closed around the digit. Their eyes collided over the action.
"Strawberry?" he asked, in a low voice.
Khushi nodded and ran her tongue teasingly up, down and around his finger.
She was gratified to see his eyes darken in that familiar way, both forgetting that Little Khushi was observing them.
"Are we intruding?"
They turned around to find Yash and Anjali standing at the entrance to the kitchen.
I NEED NOT SAY THAT MOST of us would prefer a slow, drawn-out torturous death than be caught in flagrante delicto. Khushi was no different. She had coloured violently when she realized Yash and Anjali had witnessed their intimacy. Arnav understood her mortification. Moreover, for a brief moment they had forgotten the presence of an impressionable child. He strategically placed himself in front of Khushi to block their view of her and allow her a moment to compose herself. After all, he had initiated matters. He was to blame. Something she would undoubtedly express to him in choice language and broad gestures later when they had privacy.
Little Khushi had turned at the interruption and saw her father and her friend. She repeated what her young eyes had seen Arnav doing---she dipped her finger into the bowl and held out a dripping finger for Anjali. Anjali stepped forward---gave Chotte a pointed sisterly look!---and in a playful manner took Little Khushi's finger in her mouth and licked off the proffered ice-cream. The girl repeated the action for her father. He also complied.
"Have you been encouraging everyone to eat ice cream with their fingers?" Yash asked his daughter, wiping her mouth and hands with his handkerchief.
Arnav was aware that Dr Malhotra had with his words deliberately deflected attention away from Khushi to ease her awkwardness.
It seemed to work.
At that timely moment, Buaji entered the kitchen asking Khushi to prepare tea. Arnav exchanged a look with Khushi which conveyed that at least they had not been interrupted by Buaji.
Khushi smiled, lowering her eyes.
Arnav was leaving the kitchen when he sensed Buaji hovering by his side. He asked, "Is there something I can do, Buaji?"
In her typical flustery manner, she said, "Hai Nande Kishore. You have done so much for us already, Bitwa."
"What is it, Buaji?" Khushi asked.
Buaji exchanged looks with Yash, and then turning to Khushi, explained, "with Yashu at the hospital, your mother and I feel confident taking your father back to Lucknow."
"Kya?" Khushi cried, abandoning the tea preparation to come and stand directly in front of Buaji.
Arnav heard the agitation in his wife's voice.
"Titaliya, you girls have your own home. We miss our old friends and neighbours," she placed her hand on Arnav's arm, and added in a lower octave, "we feel he will recover quicker at home knowing his business awaits. You understand, don't you, Bitwa? A man needs his work."
He mumbled that he understood and agreed.
Garima had joined them in the kitchen. "If you have no objection we would like to stay at our old house?" she asked Arnav with hesitation.
"It's your home, Aunty. It and the business wait for you at your convenience," he replied, but his gaze was trained on his wife, whose eyes had grown shiny with wetness.
Khushi blinked back tears. Arnav stepped towards her, but Yash got to her side first. He bent his head near her, and explained, "Uncle's reports indicate that nothing neurological prevents him from a full and complete recovery. Returning home may do the trick, Khush."
Arnav stiffened as he saw the doctor place an arm across Khushi's shoulders and draw her close to him, adding, "We're two doors away. It will be fine."
Though deeply uncomfortable with their physical closeness, Arnav could not separate his wife from that man without drawing the family's full attention. And agitating Khushi when she was already agitated.
Khushi finally acquiesced, saying softly, "As you wish Buaji, Amma."
Garima turned to him and asked, "Can we ask one more thing?"
"Of course!"
In the days ahead, Arnav would remember this crucial moment; these words so easily spoken, but so heavily borne.
"If Khushi could come with us to help us settle back into the house---" Arnav met Khushi's eyes over Amma's head, who continued, "---we'll leave tomorrow and she can stay with us until you all arrive for the weekend party."
Five days!
Buaji said, "we would take Payaliya, but nobody is as capable as Khushi. And she knows everything about her father's business matters."
The ladies had the courtesy to ask Anjali, who diplomatically said that if her brother had no objection, she could safely speak for Nani and say that Khushi ought to go and help her family resettle.
What objection could Arnav present when one look in his wife's eyes told him she wanted to go? They all waited for his reply, though they had already counted it as a yes.'
He gave a nod.
Khushi smiled her thanks, but he lacked the magnanimity to show that her pleasure pleased him. It far from pleased him that she was comfortable being away from him for five days. It pleased him even less that she would be staying two doors away from her childhood friend. Had she yielded with less joy it would have been of some comfort---but she had not even hid her satisfaction. He glanced at the doctor to read that man's response. All he was met with were cool unexpressive eyes. There was nothing between this man and his wife; so why then did Arnav Singh Raizada's heart whisper that Dr Yash Malhotra had known this morning that he would be taking Khushi back to Lucknow with him tomorrow.
By Jalebi Jane
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