Hello!
As promised, back with the next update! A big thank you to all of the amazing comments 🤗Replied to some above (pg. 117).
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The content of this story belongs strictly to the author, -Archi-. Any unwarranted use/copy of it is not encouraged and is strictly prohibited.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Omelette
“Nannav! What took you so long?!”
“That would be your farmhouse. It’s literally in the middle of nowhere.”
Nand-Kishore or NK as everyone fondly called him, grinned in response and hugged his brother. It was impossible not to notice how closely knit the Raizada’s were. They were always pulling each other’s legs, complaining about their family or jobs or partners, but mostly, staying united in all circumstances.
Coming from a family of just four, Khushi had found their bond unbelievable and pretentious at first. But the more she spent time with Lavanya and understood her insane loyalty to Arnav, the more Khushi believed that families were not all like hers: dysfunctional. There were also some that stood by you, that made you believe in love and support. They may be rare, but they did exist.
“Bhabhi!” NK said, turning towards to her and pulling her into a hug. “Welcome!”
Khushi smiled. “Please stop calling me Bhabhi, NK. I have a name and it’s pretty nice.”
“How about Bhabs? ‘Cause Nannav might just murder me if I call you Khushi.”
She looked at Arnav, who shook his head in denial. “He is fine with it.”
“Then Prachi will murder me instead. You are too beautiful for anyone not to think that you are my girlfriend.”
“Hold up,” Arnav said. “Let me get Prachi and we can have this conversation properly.”
“See?” NK said triumphantly to Khushi. “He is too possessive.”
Khushi simply laughed, not wanting to prolong the conversation. If NK dug any further, he would see that Arnav and she were barely even friends, forget about being possessive.
“If you are done flirting with my wife, can we go inside?” Arnav interrupted. “I am starving.”
Khushi couldn’t agree more. It was almost midnight on a Friday. She had finished her usual twelve-hour shift at the hospital before being driven straight to the farmhouse in Agra by Arnav, who was still not on “speaking terms” with her. They had driven so far into the outskirts that even their cellphones couldn’t pick up a signal. Fortunately, after almost two hours of roaming around in circles, someone pointed them in the right direction.
“Yeah come in,” NK said, leading them up a few steps, through a set of French doors and inside a very stylishly designed cottage. “Everyone is already drunk.”
“Typical,” Arnav answered. “So who bought the booze this time? It better not be Bhagi.”
“God, no! I still haven’t gotten over how badly he picked last time.”
Bhagat or Bhagi in short, was Arnav’s paternal cousin. Being a year or two younger than Arnav, he was quite sensible. The few times Khushi spoke to him, he was polite and cordial, so she didn’t quite follow why his choice in alcohol was so badly received.
“Me neither,” Arnav answered. “Mitali seriously needs to teach him a thing or two about loosening up. Apparently he is considering extending his internship for another year.”
“No way!”
“I’m serious… He overthinks everything.”
Khushi followed the men monotonously through the humungous rooms, not really paying attention to their conversation. The Raizada family was much too relaxed to take any of their “problems” seriously. Instead, she admired the decor, wondering how NK acquired such a beautiful taste.
Finally, they arrived at the poolside. Sure enough, the party was already raving. Dev –Arnav’s maternal cousin– was standing in the pool, fully clothed, looking furiously at Bhagi, who appeared to have pushed him into the water. Bhagi, along with his fiancé Mitali and another one of the Raizada cousins, Samriddhi or Sam as she liked to be called, were laughing hysterically. On the other hand, Arjun appeared to be in a deep conversation with Shyam, while Lavanya was curled up in Akash’s lap, in world of her own.
“LOOK WHO FINALLY ARRIVED?” NK announced to the group.
Everyone looked up, wide smiles covering their face. Then appearing out of nowhere, Anjali suddenly embraced Khushi.
“You made it!”
Khushi mockingly narrowed her eyes. “Did you really give me a choice?”
Anjali grinned sheepishly. “Sorry – I just wanted to make sure Chote would genuinely try to bring you instead of making up some excuse like always.”
“Oh it was more than genuine,” she muttered remembering Arnav going down on his knees to apologize. “He left me with no other choice.”
“That’s okay, you need the break. You work insane hours.”
“Only because I am still new,” Khushi replied, keeping her tone causal while still making sure the message was clear. “Once I get experience, it will be just another nine to five job.”
Anjali smiled. “You say that now, but the truth is, you love what you do way too much to give it up. Trust me, I have seen it all with Shyam.”
Khushi couldn’t argue with that.
“I actually wanted to thank you,” Anjali continued, lowering her voice. “For talking to Chote that day.”
“I did nothing,” she said, embarrassed. Far from making things better, Khushi was sure she had made them worse.
“No, you did something…” Anjali said, glancing at Arnav was busy laughing at a fully-soaked Dev. “Whatever it was, thank you. You made him realize that he doesn’t have to go through things alone, that he has all of us to help him.”
Khushi looked at the floor, not knowing how to accept gratitude for something she didn’t even do. She still had mixed feelings about their argument that night, a week ago now.
“So are things better between the both of you now?” Anjali asked, leading her towards the lounge chairs.
“Yes,” Khushi lied, wanting to avoid recounting her fight at all costs. And for once in her life, Anjali seemed to believe her, for she didn’t ask any further questions and instead introduced her to Prachi.
The night eventually slipped into the wee hours of the morning. As Khushi became comfortable on the lounge chair, listening in and out of random conversations, she felt her eyes drooping and drifting off into sleep. So when she heard Arnav’s familiar voice after what felt like hours, she wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t dreaming.
“Don’t disturb her, she was working the whole day... let her sleep.”
Sniggering followed. “Whoa Arnav… not even a year and you’re already keeping track of her sleeping habits?”
“Shut-up Dev!” It was Sam’s voice. “It’s sweet that he cares so much for her.”
Bhagi replied: “What sweet? I thought we weren’t allowed to sleep until sunrise every time we meet up at someone’s farmhouse?”
“Ignore Bhagi,” Lavanya said. “He still hasn’t gotten over how we threw him in the pool last time.”
“How would you feel after being thrown into ice cold water at four in the morning?!”
“Duffer, that was because of how badly you were singing, not because you were falling asleep,” said NK.
“Shut up guys!” Mitali interrupted. “You will wake her up!”
“Don’t stress Mitu, Arnav is there na! He will sing a lullaby for her, won’t you?” Dev answered, failing miserably to hide his laughter.
Arnav finally spoke. “This is why you are still single Dev.”
And then out of nowhere two warm hands slipped underneath her and Khushi felt herself being lifted and carried away. Although her mind was slightly alarmed, her body weighed down too heavily for her to even move. So she accepted the warmth and comfort and snuggled closer to the steady heartbeat echoing in her ear.
***
Khushi woke up the next day to sunlight streaming in through her windows. It took a few minutes to orient herself, feeling alien to the soft sheets she was curled underneath. The room, like the rest of the farmhouse, was exquisitely designed in hues of blue. Her duffle bag, she noticed, was kept neatly beside the door and so was Arnav’s.
The thought of her namesake husband brought her instantly sitting up, searching the room. But it was empty, with no sign of him. Pushing herself out of bed, she quickly took a shower and hesitantly crept out of the room, wondering where everyone was.
She finally found Anjali and Mitali in the living room, chatting over a cup of coffee.
“Good morning,” she murmured, sitting down on the sofa.
“Good morning sleeping beauty,” Mitali replied with a grin. “How come you are up so early?”
“What time is it?” Khushi asked, ignoring the jibe.
“Only ten in the morning.”
Khushi was alarmed. It had been months since she slept in that late. Her alarm, set to 6 o’clock every morning, had never failed her before. “What? Ten already? Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Anjali laughed. “Chote’s orders were pretty strict – she works too hard at the hospital, let her sleep.”
So she wasn’t dreaming. Arnav had indeed carried her to bed last night. Khushi felt a strange sensation build in the pit of her stomach at that. Was it nerves?
“Look, now she is blushing,” Mitali added.
“You guys are crazy,” Khushi finally said, shaking her head and pulling the tray of coffee towards herself. “Me and Arnav are not romantic. Stop making us so filmy.”
That didn’t put an end of either of their grins, however. As their chit-chat continued, Khushi noticed that the house was unbelievably quiet.
“Where is everyone?” she asked, nibbling on some biscuits.
“Sleeping like horses,” Mitali answered rolling her eyes.
“Go easy on them… they only managed to get to bed at six in the morning,” Anjali said.
“And whose fault is that? I wanted to go hiking today, but by the time they are all gonna wake up, it will be evening.”
Khushi interrupted: “But Arnav was not in the room this morning… where is he?”
“Oh,” Mitali said pointedly. “So you only wanted to know about Arnav.”
Before Khushi could find a retort, Anjali answered: “Chote and Shyam went jogging… and let it be na Mitu. If she is not going to ask for Chote, who will?”
Khushi was now seriously getting vary of their comments. It was one thing to see them accepting her sham of a marriage to be true, but it was completely another to be teased about it in every other sentence. Did Arnav face the same thing? Or she was the only one being subjected to their cruelty?
As if on the cue, Arnav appeared in the hall, sweating, but laughing hysterically about something with Shyam.
“I swear Jeejaji,” he said, flopping down on the couch beside his sister. “You deserve an award for putting up with him!”
“Putting up with who?” Anjali asked, pouring them both fresh cups of coffee.
“One of the marketing managers at the company that Papa is refusing to fire,” Shyam answered, shaking his head.
“Good thing you guys came back,” Mitali said. “Sleeping beauty was missing her Prince.”
“Who is missing who?” Shyam asked, confused.
Khushi glared at Mitali. Thankfully, Arnav interfered. “What’s for breakfast?” he asked, nonchalantly.
“Nothing as of now… what do you want?” Anjali said, gathering all the cups and standing up to head to the kitchen.
Arnav jumped up and peeled the tray off her hands. “Don’t even think about it Di, you are going to just sit here and relax.”
Anjali protested “But–”
“I am cooking today.”
Khushi wasn’t sure she heard right. He cooked?
Mitali, however, hooted in excitement. “YES! I want your omelettes.”
Arnav took a ceremonious bow. “Certainly - omelettes for the ladies. What about you Jeejaji?”
Shyam beamed. “Same.”
And so within minutes, the house, which was incredibly still all morning, was suddenly plunged into activity. Mitali disappeared upstairs, hoping to lure everyone out of bed with the news of Arnav’s cooking, while Shyam and Anjali talked casually about an upcoming wedding in the former’s native town, Rishikesh. Curiosity getting the better of her, Khushi crept to the kitchen, wondering how on earth Arnav cooked.
Perhaps to every other human in the world, there was nothing special about a man scurrying through the kitchen, chopping vegetables. But to Khushi, who hid behind a pillar, watching her husband without blinking, everything was special about the situation. It wasn’t that she didn’t know about his talent –there were lots of things she didn’t know about him– but it was the fact that he did not find cooking or washing the dirty dishes from the previous night, inferior in any way. He simply went about his works without a care in the world.
“You are staring Khushi.”
Khushi jumped. How had he known she was there? “Erm, no,” she mumbled, stepping out into the open space. “I just came to see if you wanted help.”
Arnav glanced up, an amused smile on his lips. “Really? Are you sure you weren’t hiding from all the sleeping beauty jokes?”
She groaned. “They think we are these long-lost lovers or something.”
“They don’t mean to rub it in your face, I hope you know that.”
Khushi shrugged. “In a way, I guess I should be happy… they really do believe we are happily in love.”
“Yes, but they only believe that because it’s easy.”
“What?”
He glanced up from beating the eggs. “It’s easier for them to pretend I am happy, that I got a happy ending… they have seen me through enough rough times to wish I never went back there.”
Surprisingly, Khushi didn’t have trouble understanding that. Didn’t Vihaan do the same with her? Ask her repeatedly if she was happy with her marriage, although he knew quite well, that it was impossible?
So changing the topic, she asked casually, “You turned off my alarm this morning?”
He neither agreed nor denied it.
She sighed. “You know sometimes I wish I get something other than your silence.”
“Like what?”
“Like telling me why you didn’t just let them throw me in the pool last night–”
“They weren’t going to throw you in the pool,” he interrupted. “Dev just likes to prank people.”
Khushi didn’t feel reassured about that.
“So then why did you carry me to bed?” she asked. “And why did you distract Mitali from her sleeping beauty joke just now? And why do you cook?”
“Why do I cook?” he repeated.
Of course he picked the easiest question to answer.
“Because I like to,” he said plainly. “All the ingredients are right in front of you, and you can do whatever the heck you want to with them.”
“So it makes you feel free, is that it?”
“It makes me feel in control. If something went wrong, I know exactly where and why and how to fix it…”
Khushi didn’t answer, recollecting his words from a long time ago, on the first day of her internship.
Everything is decided for us… what to wear, what to study, what to be… even who to love. Everything is pre-decided because we had the misfortune to be born to legacies.
“And the best thing about it,” he continued, not really paying attention to her. “Is in the end, whatever what you do, it still ends up being edible.”
She snorted. “Yeah right, then you haven’t tasted burnt food... or salty food…”
Arnav chuckled. “You know, burnt food has a taste of it its own. In fact, some dishes need it–”
“I’m not talking of intentional burning–”
“Oh I know, but my point is, there is always a way to fix it. That’s what’s magical about cooking, once you figure out the antidote to something, you can never go wrong.”
“How do you know so much about cooking?”
Arnav turned away, seeming not to have heard her question. Having finished with the eggs, he began searching the kitchen for something else.
“Do you want something?” she asked, watching him open every shelf.
“Hmm,” he murmured, oblivious to her words, his attention absorbed completely by the task at hand.
Khushi didn’t press, observing him half-amused and half-curious. Not even twenty-four hours has passed since they arrived at the farmhouse, and it was if she was once again with her Arnav, the one who waited to have dinner with her, the one who patiently listened to her recount extremely minute details of the cases she treated, the one who came to pick her up if it was too late into the night, the one who understood what she wanted even before she asked… it was as though he never told her he married her for money, or disappeared to London for two weeks or humiliated her about her relationship with her father.
It was such a welcome relief.
“So what’s your secret ingredient?” she asked after a few minutes, unable to stop herself. It was so soothing to hear him talk so openly.
“For the omelettes?” he replied, briefly meeting her eyes.
She nodded.
“You want the truth?”
“Sure.”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“I don’t add anything special or different,” he explained simply. “I just know what they like. Mitali likes spice in her food, Jeejaji likes less salt, Lavu likes cheese and so on.”
“So you add what everyone likes? That’s it?”
Arnav nodded, quite pleased with himself.
“So what are you going to add for me?”
He grinned. “Guess you will have to wait and see.”
So Khushi patiently waited, wondering if everything he was telling her was even true. It was noon by the time everyone assembled at the dining table, groggy but still very much hyper. Khushi sat sandwiched between Anjali and Lavanya, both engrossed in discussions about some ancestral jewelry. She didn’t bother to pay attention.
And at last, her omelette arrived, handed over by a smirking Mitali. It looked the same as everyone else’s, so wondering how it can possibly be unique, she gingerly took a bite.
It was the best damn thing she ever tasted.
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Slowly but surely, Arnav and Khushi are getting back to being best friends... what did you think about farmhouse trip so far?
Since there are so many Raizada cousins, here is a family tree to help keep track 😆:
https://archicornerhome.files.wordpress.com/2020/02/raizada.png
Please like & comment!
Archi
P.S. - Will try my best to update again on Monday 😊
Edited by -Archi- - 4 years ago
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