OS Submission Three
Shagun | Auspicious
by IPodcastKKND
With the crack of dawn, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada detangled herself from her log-like and tiptoed out of the bed, grabbing a robe on her way to Devi Maiyya. She paused, turned to look at Arnav, and giggled. In the past she had yet to understand how someone could sleep in the same position - one arm tucked under his neck, facing the ceiling. Even in his sleep, he was prim and proper.
Laad Governor! She grinned and gave him a forehead kiss before kneeling by their table and talking to her best friend - Devi Maiyya.
“Hey Devi Maiyya, I hope you’ve been doing well. I just have one request - please make sure this year Diwali is uneventful - if it is then I’ll give you three kilos jalebis!” Khushi squealed.
“You’ve put your dear Devi Maiyya to work even on Diwali?” Arnav mumbled, stretching his sore arm.
“You won’t understand.” Khushi said, heading over to his bedside, squeezing his shoulder. Arnav let out a sigh of relief as she loosened all the knots.
“I need to visit a doctor, this arm’s killing me.”
“Of course it will. For an atheist you seem to be possessed by Lord Vishnu, otherwise who would sleep with an arm tucked under their head?!” Khushi grumbled and Arnav rolled his eyes.
“Waise why did you wake up so early to bribe Devi Maiyya?” Arnav asked.
“Haw! I wasn’t bribing her!” Arnav raised an eyebrow as Khushi refused to meet his eyes. Alright it was a bribe but Khushi would accept that before her dead body! Arnav poked her shoulder, waiting for an answer. Impatient Laad Governor!
“Because there’s always dhamaka during our Diwalis. Phataakon ki yaad hi nahi aati!” Khushi complained, the foreboding of the new Diwali heavy in her head. Granted she loved Bollywood movies, but it was no excuse for Devi Maiyya to drop one drama over the other during festivities.
“What rubbish. This is all blind superstition.” Arnav scoffed, sitting up by the headboard.
“No rubbish. Just ask me what has not happened during our Diwalis!” Khushi demanded, crossing her arms.
“What has not happened?”
“Offo, puchiye what has happened!” Khushi emphasized.
“Okay,” Arnav, now fully awake, decided to humor her “what has happened?”
“Everything, from heartbreak to arguments, pregnancy to you getting stuck in Scotland - for real. Trust me, Arijit Singh would get a lifetime job singing sad songs for us.” Khushi huffed, only realising Arnav was quiet. He made the most impeccable mistake a married man could commit - choose his phone over wife.
Grabbing the blasted phone out of his sight, she waited for him to coddle her. She was not one to get easily placated-
Arnav pressed the gentlest kiss on her wrist and pulled his offended wife to his side.
“Khushi,” he drawled with the fondness one has for a pouting child, “why are you bothering yourself with these irrelevant details. Life has its ups and downs and you only remember the ones on Diwali because, statistically speaking, people tend to remember horrible things - especially if they occurred on festive days - over good things.” Khushi sulked, dishearted agreeing with him. He did have a point. As always.
Arnav hugged her back, allowing silence to fill the room. He wasn’t one to admonish her fears when there had been a fair share of downs than ups - especially in the beginning few years of their life. In a way he was simultaneously jealous and in awe of how she overcame the trauma of the past in recent years. And her lightheaded smiles and cheers easily let him forget his own monstrosity. But days like these - Valentine’s or Diwali - he was painfully reminded how he had etched a scar on her memories. How easy it was to break something that took years to heal.
“True, if I wasn’t puking my guts on Diwali, then telling you about our Aarohi was one of the best Diwalis in our life.” Khushi chuckled. The night was clear, his arms were around her, and as he cried tears of joy and held her for his dear life as she truly poured out her emotions on his sherwani and shoes.
Khushi stretched and gave him a quick kiss before she yanked right onto the bed.
“What the- Arnav ji?”
“I need a better bribe for the motivational talk,” Arnav demanded.
“Arnav ji, I have a lot of work to do. I need to give Aarav and Aarohi their clothes, Nani and-”
“Excuses,” Arnav sighed, “I helped you more than your Devi Maiyya yet she will receive 3 kilos jalebis and I got nothing. This isn’t a fair deal, Miss Gupta.” Her cheeks warmed. It was evident what he was asking, but for Khushi, no heroine must give in to her hero without equal amounts of blushing and shying. After all, no pleasure equaled that of Arnav asking her - quite blatantly - for a kiss or more.
With their usual back and forth, they exchanged more than a kiss and the robe joined his pants on the floor.
Half an hour later Khushi ran to and fro the living room rattling out instructions to every Prakash she could get hold of. Jai Prakash? Over to the sweet section. Hari Prakash? Set up fairy lights. Om Prakash? Final dusting and cleanup of the house. The Raizada brood, duty-bound and attached to Khushi regardless of relationship, followed her with Lakshmi in tow. Aarav took special pride in directing the young ones on how to handle a Raizada-Gupta Diwali.
Arnav saw it as the prime opportunity to escape when Akash delivered the news of NK visiting them when the joys and celebrations came to a sudden halt.
Khushi’s anklet had broken into two.
— — —
Arnav pushed his meetings aside as he drove to Chandi Chowk at an alarming speed. The broken anklet lay safe in his pocket.
Mami’s whisper of apshagun - inauspicious - reached her ears before it reached his. Of course, it was followed with Nani’s cough and Akash’s glare for Mami’s to cover the words with her unparalleled English. But the words had done their damage. It had taken one look - her fallen smile and a sheen of tears in her hazel eyes - when he knew what she feared.
Khushi was quiet when he bent and picked up the two pieces.
“I’ll fix this,” he promised, in more ways than one. She mustered a smile for the sake of the family. Aarav gave her a soft hug and exchanged a knowing nod with his father. It was Khushi’s mother’s anklet - they all knew what it meant.
“A right from here.” Arnav turned the car at Payal’s instruction. She decided to accompany Arnav to the jewelry store because their family jeweler - the one in Delhi - had handmade these thirty-five years ago. Amma even had a similar pair. It was wiser to go to the old jewelers.
“Khushi is worried?” It came across more as a statement than a question. Arnav could only nod. Apart from him, Payal was acutely aware of her sister’s moods.
“She has been. She’s afraid something-”
“-bad might happen. I know.” Payal completed his sentence. They waited in the traffic, comfortable in silence and lost in thought.
“You know Arnav ji, fear is really potent. Once someone is used to being afraid of something, it’s nearly impossible to not fret. Look at me, I was pretty much convinced my wedding would break at one point.” Payal admitted, remembering the old days when Manorama was terror instead of the beloved, pampered saas she is.
“You had a valid reason for that. Even Khushi has. And with the broken anklet…” Arnav sighed. They knew Khushi wouldn’t take this lightly.
— — —
“It’s ok, the anklet was old. It was bound to break. There’s no shagun apshagun attached to this.” Khushi told Akash as she fried her twenty-fifth jalebi.
“True, but are you telling this to me or to yourself?” He asked, helping himself to a jalebi. Khushi slouched and grabbed a stool, helping herself to four unsweetened jalebis.
“I don’t know Jijaji. But I knew something bad might happen. Arnav ji even said this is blind superstition - I agree, but every Diwali something or the other happens. And now it’s 10 years - dekhiye ga, this Diwali thing will one day hit silver jubilee!” Khushi groaned. Akash cut back a smile and watched her demolish her fifth jalebi. Like a responsible brother, he took the plate away from her and led her to the living room.
“Arrey jijaji-”
“Khushi ji. What has the doctor told you about stress eating?” Khushi sighed and flopped on the sofa.
“Jijaji I teach the kids not to believe in blind patterns, but I don’t know what to think when every year something has happened. And I’m not even counting the first two years!” Khushi exclaimed.
“So there’s one way of fixing the Diwalis.” Akash, now surrounded by Anjali and Nani, proposed.
“What? How?” Khushi asked.
“Simple - either you walk out of Bhai’s life or vice versa.” Akash deadpanned. All the ladies gasped at once. Even his dearest mother shot him a glare for even suggesting the separation of Arnav bitwa and her dearest - yes dearest! - Phati Sari.
“Shubh shubh bolo Akash!” Nani admonished him.
“Actually Nani, I think I know what Akash is saying,” Anjali interject. She took her beloved bhabhi’s hand and smiled.
“Khushi ji, whatever has happened, happened because you two are together, right?” Khushi nodded.
“Then look at the grander scheme of things. The love you two share encompasses the strength of Diwali. The triumph of good over evil. When you came into our lives… it led to pushing that dubious man away from my life.” Anjali smiled, cupping Khushi’s cheek with the tenderness of a mother. Khushi looked away, she hadn’t meant her misery and doubts for all to remember that horrible man.
“Khushi ji, no. Don’t look away.” Khushi smiled, for a second Anjali’s commanding tone reminded her of Arnav.
“I don’t mind remembering him because it was a lesson for a lifetime. So just think how powerful your love is that you took a step in our lives and kicked him out-”
“-just like how Arnav ji resulted in that man going away from Jiji’s life.” Khushi whispered. Akash nodded in enthusiasm. Nani remained silent, her heart filling with joy to see all her children grow up to be happy, mature and supportive.
“I’m not the one to say there’s a positive to every negative. No, pain has its own place. But there are two ways to remember each event - it depends how you want to remember things. True, your anklet broke today, but don’t you have faith that Chotte will bring it back in one piece?” Khushi nodded, her heart bursting with happiness and infinite joy as fears and doubts slowly gave away.
— — —
Arnav held the repaired anklet in his hand, and he was struck by the memory of how he had held it for the first time. No one had known that he had kept it safely in his locker, hidden with the three pearls he had once thrown away in anger.
“Damaad ji, it’s such an honor to have you here today.” Rehmaan - the owner of the store - smiled. He even offered Arnav a cup of sugar-free tea.
“Whenever Khushi bitiya comes here she only speaks of you!” Arnav gave the older man one of his rarest smiles. He was humbled to be immediately loved by everyone’s association to Khushi. With the thought of Khushi, his heart felt heavy again. He wasn’t one to believe in signs, but he wondered if there was anything that could contradict Khushi’s beliefs. Arnav shook his head and stood up, opening up his wallet to pay Rehmaan only to be met by Lucknowi grace and respect - one that included harassing your customer if they tried to pay.
“What are you doing damaad ji! I’ll not even find a place in hell if I were to charge you to fix Khushi bitiya’s anklets!” He protested. Between a nuanced capitalist and a veteran Lucknowi shopkeeper - the negotiation ran for half an hour. It was the longest Payal had seen Arnav talk in her life.
“Arrey bitwa try to understand. I cannot take money for the last sign Khushi bitiya has of Gauri ji. Especially after she sold her bangles!”
“Khushi sold Maasi’s bangles?” Payal gasped. Arnav frowned, how did Payal not know this. Rehmaan confirmed, he would’ve never forgotten the day Khushi sold the bangles ten years ago, desperation evident in her eyes.
— — —
Khushi fixed her saree as she waited for Arnav and Payal to come home. Everything was perfect - all the guests were about to arrive, the Prakash army had perfectly decorated the home and her dearest Nanhe ji and Lavanya ji had arrived. Aarav took up the responsibility of minding and playing with his cousins while Lakshmi chilled by Devi Maiyya’s statue.
Now where was her handsome husband? Khushi shuffled on her feet, her right ankle feeling light after years of the payal’s weight. Not one to stand and do nothing, Khushi headed to the poolside, filling up some of the diyas with oil.
Although Khushi was confident in her beauty - reinforced by Arnav’s constant appreciative gaze - she waited restlessly for him. She was wearing the saree she had worn ten years ago on the infamous photoshoot.
“Beautiful,” Khushi gasped, in surprise and pleasure as Arnav appeared before her in her favorite dark suit. In two large strides he was right in front of her.
“Arnav ji! Happy Diwali! Where were you? Do you know Akash jiaji got this for me? I’ve been waiting for you for so long and-”
“Ssh. Let me see.” Arnav placed a finger on her lips. Khushi quietened and nervously played with the edge of her saree. Arnav took a step back and checked her out. From her fuller hips to her dark kohled eyes, Khushi was a sight to behold.
“I agree. It is a happy Diwali.” Khushi flustered and lightly slapped him on his chest. She adjusted his tie, brushing an invisible speck away. “I have something for you.” Arnav grinned.
“I know!” Khushi gloated, “You fixed my anklet, right?”
“What if I can surprise you?” Arnav challenged. Khushi raised her eyebrows and nodded, “Deal, if you can surprise me then you can get whatever you want.” She extended her hand, waiting for her anklet.
Except he held her elbow and led her to a chair. Khushi’s smile fell and eyes softened when he kneeled before her and waited. She placed her foot on his knee, gazing at him with love as he clasped the silver payal around her ankle.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, leaning forward to lightly brush his lips against hers. Khushi closed her eyes, deepening the kiss, when she felt something heavy in her palms. She broke the kiss and stared at hands in shock.
Never, had she thought she could see these bangles again.
“How? I… I had sold them years ago.” She confessed, holding them in wonder.
“Perhaps it was God’s will, but no one ever bought them, nor got them melted.” Rehmaan commented, while Arnav found the pair, sitting in peace, in a box in front of him.
Arnav held her wrists, brushing a kiss on her knuckles. Khushi sniffled, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Our first Diwali was an undeniable admittance of our attraction… the second - an example of us, especially me, being miles away on the journey of parenthood.” Khushi tsked at his confession. She had not seen a better father in years. But before she could interrupt he tugged her forward.
“Third Diwali pe, finally Di’s divorce was finalized. And while I was stuck in Scotland on the fourth one, it was a great reminder of what I nearly lost because of my selfishness-” Arnav admitted, his smile vacant with a tinge of regret. Perhaps he’d never outgrow his guilt. Khushi, now on the brink of a full sob, was shushed with a finger on her lips. With gentle whispers he reminded her of each Diwali.
The fifth Diwali told them about Aarohi - their lovely child, the sixth one made Anjali the happiest she’d ever been - she and Aman were finally a couple! And although the seventh had been personally the most difficult Diwali for Arnav because he went back to Lucknow, it was only because Khushi could re-establish Sheesh Mahal as a heritage hotel a year later - making it their eighth Diwali together.
“As you can see Mrs. Raizada, I’m a selfish man. Because these are all my feelings and my emotions and I think there’s never been a luckier day for me since the moment you came into my life. But I won’t disagree that shayad for you-”
This time Arnav was shushed by a delicate finger on his lips. Khushi broke down, wiping her nose with his silk pocket square. And just how beautifully bizarre she was, she broke into a grin right between snotty tears and ruined makeup.
“You’re weird,” Arnav raised an eyebrow at her. Khushi chuckled, “Hamara matlab hai, that whenever you speak, you leave me with no words! Here I was ready to tell you that I don’t believe in any shagun-wagun and here you’ve given me the biggest shagun in my whole life.” Khushi smiled as he gently wiped her tears. He held her chin and leaned in for another kiss when Aarav and Aarohi ran into the poolside.
Arnav and Khushi exchanged a look as their kids dragged them to the courtyard to celebrate Diwali. They knew a thing or two about the impeccable interruption. But perhaps this was the sweetest interruption in their lives.
— — —
As everyone ate, played, and danced among the lights, Arnav nudged Khushi and whispered in her ear, “Waise, why did you sell your bangles?”
Khushi sighed and looped her arm into his,
“That’s a story for another day.”
— — —
Edited by dramebaaz.af - 2 years ago
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