Chapter 19

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 19 (A)

 

Where was she?

 

Arnav had been attending the guests for half an hour already. He was looking as ravishing as ever in his full black attire – his short hair perfectly gelled up, five o' clock stubble highlighting the features of his handsome face. His countenance was sober and confident as always but his eyes gave away the storm hailing inside him. His eyes were restlessly scanning every nook and cranny of the venue for one glimpse of the familiar face.

 

It all started with her lemony smell. And now Arnav dreaded that it was her complete being that he would find difficult to live without.

 

Where was she??

 

Ever since she had walked away, leaving him alone in his car, Arnav had been struggling with a strange sense of fear. That he could not comprehend how she really had perceived his words, was killing him every second. By now, he knew her enough to understand that the silence was only masking something completely else brewing inside her.

 

Did she really understand what he was trying to say? Did she really understand his feelings?

 

Feelings.

 

Arnav blinked.

 

Feelings .. emotions .. heart .. flowers .. these had never been part of his world. And now, of all, he desperately wanted her to understand his feelings. This was why he had wanted to run away from her in the first place – to have his world as black and grey as it was meant to be. The matters of the heart had always intrigued him and he knew these were a man's weakness. And he had no place for weakness in his life.

 

He had seen how mercilessly hearts were trampled. He had felt that raw pain in his own heart too. And above all, he had no trust in himself- he doubted if he was capable enough to own someone's heart. All these years, he had been saving himself from hurt .. to never let his heart rule and destroy him .. and destroy someone else.

 

Caging his heart was his own way of defense. He did not want to get hurt. Neither did he want to hurt.

 

Then how could he falter like this? How could he allow himself to break his own rules? How could he be so vulnerable to give in to his own heart .. to give in to someone else's heart?

 

"Kya kar diya tumne mere saath, Khushi," he murmured.

 

There was no point denying. He liked her. He liked being around her. He liked to smell her, to breath her .. to have her in his arms. He liked his hands on her waist, her hair on his face. He liked his lips on hers .. and now he wanted more.

 

Why couldn't he just claim her? Why couldn't he just ask her out? Why did it matter to him what she valued in life? And if he could reason so well, why the f**k couldn't he just stay away from her?

 

Arnav's frustration rose with every passing minute. This was the most important event of AR Design till date. But the blend of his desire to see her with an undefined fear surpassed his excitement and expectation around the show.

 

"This is why..," he muttered as his eyes again scanned as far as the periphery of his vision allowed, "Gather yourself up, Raizada."

 

She was nowhere.

 

Where the f**k was she???

 

She, however, was not far away but consciously out of his sight.

 

Khushi glanced at her reflection in the mirror and then her eyes again scanned the women around her. Tall, beautiful, poised. As they moved around, their dresses whirled around them elegantly accentuating their perfect curves. Their hips swayed attractively as they walked, their locks dangled. Their lips were pouty, nose upright, cheekbones high, eyes dazzling. Their beauty was supplemented by an aura of confidence that was hard to ignore.

 

This was the world of Arnav Singh Raizada.

 

And she was a total misfit in his world.

 

Khushi tried to hide her sigh as she patted the invisible creases of her saree. She felt like a pipsqueak and the urge to run away from the dressing room was immense. She hated her job right now.  It was a sheer torture to be around these beautiful women who only reminded her of her shortcomings.

 

She was not his type.

 

He just stated the fact.

 

Still he cared. There was no point denying. And he had been honest. But why couldn't he just be within his limits?

 

Her lips still burned, heartbeats raced .. She wished those moments were not real. She wished she stopped him. She wished .. she stopped herself.

 

Khushi sighed and then stood with her head held high.

 

She had moved on. She would move on.

 

Despite her squeamish feelings, she went on to help the models. She ran between every corner of backstage – she was everywhere, determined to make the fashion show a success. Today's show would be perfect. Her first fashion show; perhaps her last too.

 

She could hear him officially inaugurating the show. Her heart constricted. There was something in his voice too. As intense as his eyes, as deep as his gaze. She could visualize the movement of his Adam's Apple in the center of his perfectly hazardous neck as she heard him talking about his passion. And she swallowed.

 

"No, Khushi," she murmured, "Not anymore."

 

She would not be affected. She could not afford to. She put her hands over her ears to force out his voice that was doing strange things to her. Even now.

 

A little later the beautiful models started parading into the stage. Khushi stood behind the entrance to help with the queue. She could not see what was happening on the stage but she knew that was what Arnav Ji's life was all about – beautiful women, exquisite clothes, trends and grandeur.. money and class. She did not fit in there. She would not survive there.

 

Only if she were rational like him .. not an emotional fool. 

 

Sound of applauses made Khushi smile. This show would be perfect. He deserved it.

 

When the last model of the second last batch was about to step in, Khushi sent a silent prayer to her Devi Maiya.

 

"Devi Maiya, please make the show perfect."

 

Devi Maiya smiled as Khushi's voice reached hers. Of course it would be perfect. She had the perfect plan to make the night perfect.

 

As the model walked in, Khushi turned hurriedly to supervise the next and the final batch of models. The bridals. She glanced at the beautiful women in exquisite red garments and her heart sank a little.

 

"Khushiii," she slapped herself, "Get out of your dream world."

 

She could hardly move an inch when she felt a sudden push all over her body and before she could balance herself, she found herself standing in front of the backdrop of the stage, clearly visible to the audience. She went dumbfounded and glanced at the entry point expecting help. She could see Maddy smirking at her and Aman Ji wide eyed, with no color on his face. She thought she would run away but the last model was just exiting the stage then.

 

"Don't even think about it," she hissed as she passed Khushi by, "Just walk."

 

Khushi too knew it was the best thing to do. But she did not even know how to walk and show off the dress. She could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes on her and she felt she did not have even an iota of energy in her body to move.

 

"Devi Maiya," she prayed, "Raksha Karna."

 

She forced her unwilling legs to take tentative steps forward. Her eyes nervously scanned the audience, as she started to walk and her eyes found him.

 

Arnav was busy reading the reaction of the audience as the last model was exiting. The nagging feeling of frustration was not letting him sit in peace all the while. Suddenly he could smell a change in the air. He felt two eyes on him, his frustration subsiding rapidly. Surprised, he turned his face towards the stage and he gasped.

 

It was her.

 

Right in the middle of the stage, right in the middle of his fashion show.

 

At other times, Arnav Singh Raizada would have lost his sanity right then, right there. Rage would have been the only emotion his entire being would emit.

 

But all he felt right now was peace. His thirsty eyes were quenched, his hungry heart fed .. his sore nerves cooled. He stood up slowly as she kept walking forward with her eyes fixed on his. Something must have gone wrong, his brain nagged, but it did not bother him at all. All he could see was her walking towards him .. in a simple green chiffon saree - the sequined borders sparkling, the pallu dangling freely from the left shoulder. Her long and free hair swayed as she walked. Her glass bangles glistened and tinkled.

 

Khushi watched him standing up slowly at the end of the ramp. She could not make out the expression of his face clearly amid the play of lights but she could still read his intense eyes. There was a longing .. as if he were waiting for her.

 

Khushi forgot everything else and walked towards him only .. her steps dreamy and flowing. The anxiety in her eyes was replaced by relief. A few more steps .. and she was standing at the end of the ramp facing the world, forgetting about it, lost only in a pair of intense coffee eyes.

 

"Turn," she heard him whisper.

 

Turn. She had to turn. She had to go back. And the dream was broken.

 

Khushi remembered she was out on the stage, walking the ramp, in her simple green saree that did not belong to AR's fashion line.  She literally had spoiled the show and it would be best if she left the ramp soon unless she wanted to spoil it further.

 

Her eyes started to well up.

 

"Kyun, Devi Maiyya?" she complained silently as she started to turn breaking her eye contact with him.

 

"You will know in a while," Devi Maiyya murmured holding her breathe.

 

Khushi turned hurriedly, not willing to prolong her embarrassment anymore, only to get her pallu stuck under her feet in the process.

 

And she fell.

 

She did not know what she was feeling – scared, embarrassed, anguished .. as she realized she was falling. All she could do was close her eyes as her body floated in the air. She waited for her fall. But she never hit the ground.

 

She felt herself wrapped in two strong arms; her hands instinctively went around his neck. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

 

She was not surprised it was him.

 

Only in his arms she could feel she was home.

 

His face was unreadable as ever but his eyes showcased an array of multitude emotions. She could spend hours looking into those eyes only. But those eyes did not belong to her.

 

Khushi blinked and the sound of confetti startled her. She remembered where she was and her face lost color. She started to squirm but the arms around her only tightened.

 

"Don't."

 

Arnav could not shift his gaze off her face. All this while he was waiting for a glimpse of her and now that she was in his arms, he realized the longing was far too strong than he could gauge. Only if he could hold her so close always, breathe her in .. nuzzle, kiss, cuddle .. and more.

 

His lemon – his forbidden fruit.

 

As much as he was tempted to bring her closer and claim her parted, shivering, glossed lips, the flash of the cameras and the sound of the applauses reminded him, this was not the time. He had to take care of this mess they were in .. inside the venue .. and outside too.

 

He turned to face the audience with her in his arms and flashed a smirk. He took the stairs to the ramp and put her down gently. He held her hand even before she could move away. He stared into her eyes, as he felt her trying to wriggle her hand out of his hold. He knew she could read his eyes. And she eased. They were together in this.

 

He turned on the cordless microphone attached to his jacket, still holding her hand.

 

"Here for you, ladies and gentleman, is a traditional Indian woman."

 

Arnav paused and gauged the audience reaction. They seemed to have relaxed realizing it was a stunt. Aman, who was peeping from the backstage, breathed a sigh of relief and thanked his lucky stars. And Arnav continued.

 

"This is how an average Indian woman would dress for an occasion and look beautiful."

 

He glanced at Khushi, his eyes admiring her and then again he faced the audience.

 

"Tonight is all about redefining how an Indian woman dresses. So hold onto your seats. You have seen her ..," he gestured towards Khushi,

 

She flinched slightly.

 

 "And now you will see where AR can take this .. how AR thinks a fashionable Indian woman should dress. As a bride or for the wedding. Enjoy .. the bridals."

 

Khushi stared at him in awe, listening to his smooth, confident speech. Only he could handle a mess like this in an event of this magnitude. The audience seemed thoroughly convinced and it seemed, the mishap would be treated as a part of the show. There was a reason he was the Arnav Singh Raizada, Khushi had to admit mentally.

 

But as much as she appreciated him, she could not ignore how her skin burnt.

 

An average Indian woman.

 

She knew she was being childish but she could not control her sensitive nerves that had been hyper active ever since this man had walked into her life. She knew he was just trying to tackle the mess. But her self-esteem surpassed every other thought and feeling.

 

She was not his type.

 

Her dresses were down market. She was just an average Indian woman dressing up in a not-so-fashionable cloth. She was dowdy and was not suitable for his world. Wasn't it what he meant?

 

As the audience broke into applause, Arnav started walking towards the backstage still holding her hand. The moment they were invisible to the audience, Khushi shook his hand off her.  Arnav looked at her, all startled and the fire in her eyes shocked him. What went wrong?

 

Khushi glared at him and ran towards the dressing room instantly. Arnav stood for a few seconds trying to understand what made her so mad. She must have been stressed because of the mishap – he had to find out how it happened. But that could wait. He knew her .. he could see it in her eyes, her body language. There was something more.

 

"ASR ..," Aman came up to him running.

 

But he could wait too.

 

"Not now," Arnav said calmly before he followed her towads the dressing room.

 

Maddy smirked as he witnessed ASR storming after Chamkili. She was dead meat. His plan was successful. He was frustrated that he could not push her harder so that she fell on the stage at the very onset. Well, this was not bad either. And ASR saved the show too.

 

"Gloating fool," Devi Maiya exclaimed, "You are only a tool when I do the master plan."

 

She shifted her attention from Maddy to the crazy duo. If Arnav was the king of screw-ups, Khushi was no less. With these two together, it was impossible to relax.

 

Even for her.

 

[To be contd.]