Chapter 58

shrattila

@shrattila

Hello

Thank you for your wonderful comments. Another chapter. Another revelation. A lot of people have appreciated the way I've kept ASR arrogant so far, and mind you a leopard can't change its spots and so ASR will always be arrogant, but to the people to whom he is Arnav, he is different. He is not arrogant to his sister and his brother in law. He has issues, emotional issues that make him a loner but he doesn't treat them with the same callous attitude he treats the rest of the world. The question is whether Khushi will be able to make a space for herself in that little family.

Please let me know what you think of this chapter as well. I do try hard to do justice to the characters but feel free to let me know what you think.

And yes, ASR is an entitled scumbag, but it was Arnav who asked Anjali to run away. ASR was born much later.

Thank you once again for everything

Bests

S

54

Arnav noticed that in the time since Anjali had landed in Milan, she had been strangely aloof. She was talking less, walking out mid-conversation and generally keeping to herself. Arnav’s concern had led him to Shyam, who assured him it was all part of being pregnant. He told Arnav this was way better since during Anya’s time Anjali was always angry and irritated. And then sensing an opportunity to try and finagle some information from Arnav, Shyam continued: “I heard about Anjali’s ultimatum Arnav.”

When Arnav didn’t respond, he continued: “You have a little less than two months I imagine to find your bride.” He waited for the information to sink in.

“By the way, Anjali was on the phone with Sheetal yesterday. You should have a pretty surprise in the next day or two.”

Arnav looked closely at his brother-in-law. He had a lot of respect for Shyam, who was successful, and respected and genuinely loved his sister. But right now he had an impulsive urge to punch him in his gut. “Don’t look at me like you want to kill me”, said Shyam, reading Arnav’s thoughts correctly. “I had nothing to do with it.”

Gentling his tone, he continued: “But you can tell me if you have any apprehensions. I will understand and even try and explain it to Anjali.”

Arnav cleared his throat and then cleared it some more. He was not good at emotional conversations and was now finding it extremely difficult to have one.

Shyam understood his dilemma and tried to give words to his untold emotions. “You don’t love Sheetal, is that it?”

“Not really”, said Arnav. “I mean, yes, I don’t love Sheetal, but more than that I don’t particularly love the idea of marriage.” He paused and Shyam patiently waited for Arnav to continue. He looked at Shyam and assessed the man. He had been married to his sister for six years. He had helped her heal. He was kind and caring and she had bloomed under his love. Arnav cleared his throat and tried to express his fear.

“Growing up, I favored my mother more”, he began, halting, choosing his words carefully. He had never shared any of this with anyone before. “It wasn’t only because she was there with me and for me most of the time.

“I was 12 when I accidentally walked into their room when Baba and Amma were having an argument. Baba wanted to discontinue Di’s education and Amma wanted Di to study further. Baba disagreed and when Amma continued to demand it, he got up and slapped her. The force of the slap scared me, and so I hid behind their room door but didn’t leave. I heard what Amma said to him, that he always used brute force to get what he wanted, that he enjoyed breaking others and that he didn’t care how many lives he ruined. And standing as tall as she could, she told him that she would not let him ruin his daughter’s life. He had been unhappy that Anjali was a daughter, but she would not let Anjali bear the burden for his unhappiness. Then she picked up the knife that lay in the fruit basket in their room, held it to her wrist and asked him to promise that Anjali would get a university education. When he didn’t relent she threatened to slit her wrists and commit suicide and told him that would make things very difficult for him in the business world.

“I remember the look Baba gave her. He relented but not without a threat. “This is the first and last time you’ll use blackmail to get what you want,” he told Amma. “Next time you do this, I’ll personally ensure your dead body is not discovered. Then I’ll tell everyone you ran away with your lover.”

“He left her to weep and walked out. He didn’t come back for the next two days. The night after he did, Amma didn’t come down for breakfast.”

Arnav stopped, and curiously looked at Shyam but all he saw in Shyam’s eyes was compassion and understanding. Gaining strength from it, he continued:

“After I started my business, I realized as much as I disliked my father for the way he treated my mother, I was exactly like him. I was rude, arrogant, condescending and enjoyed breaking other people. I couldn’t change myself because unfortunately, that’s what kept me going. AR wasn’t built without shedding some blood.” He paused to draw some much-needed air. The weather outside was cold, but Arnav was beginning to feel extremely warm. “I am who I am”, he said with a sense of finality, “but I don’t want my wife or children to fear and despise me.”

Shyam waited for Arnav to gain back some of his composure.

“What makes you think you’re like your father?”

When Arnav stared at him incredulously, he continued: "Your father never thought about how his actions affected anyone else, but it seems you’re not all like that.”

When Arnav still looked unconvinced, he continued: “In the six years that I have been married to your sister, I am aware that you’ve had at least seven business developers. But you’ve never physically or emotionally abused any of them. You’ve always treated them well. All of the relationships were consensual and if my estimation is correct, three of those seven relationships were ended by your partner.”

Before Arnav had a chance to respond to Shyam, Anjali’s faint voice drifted towards them.

“Your sister is looking for me”, said Shyam, getting up and smoothing his backside. “I better see what she wants.” Then in an act of brotherly love, he fondly patted Arnav’s shoulder and said, “Do think about what I just said”, before walking away.

*****

The entire team was at the pre-launch party. Investors, designers, collaborators, prominent local and international celebrities, influencers, the media, all were being polite and positive to each other. But the underlying stress was evident.

The party was being hosted at the Baglioni Terrace, at the Baglioni Hotel Carlton in Milan. A semi-open space, the terrace overlooked beautiful jasmine gardens and had a beautiful waterfall feature right where the main stage was set up. The stage extended to a ramp. Guest seating was set up on either side of the ramp. A buffet dinner was being set up on the far side of the terrace while waiters clad in crisp black and white uniforms were passing out red and white wine, water, juice, and appetizers.

Event managers were rushing around whispering commands to each other on their walky-talkies. Khushi and Vishal were busy getting the models ready. One of the pieces from the Ratna collection was on display as well as Khushi’s His and Hers. The dressing room was chaotic. Semi-clad models were walking around getting their hair and makeup done. The showstopper, dressed in a baby pink bathrobe was busy smoking her seventh cigarette. Pink curlers adored her head. The beautician was busy applying and peeling off wax strips from her feet. Khushi was sitting with the seamstresses, for the final tryout and alteration of the clothes. She had been in the same room for the last seven hours, measuring, pinning, getting it stitched, measuring again and pinning again.

“Hi”, a voice whispered behind her just as she was about to finish with the last of the clothes.

“Hello”, she said, studying her design and the final dress and walking towards the model who would wear it for one last tryout. She draped the model with the costume and absently asked the voice to hold her design clipboard and the box of corsage sewing pins she was carrying around. The voice obliged. She didn’t notice that the entire room had stopped to view the scene. She fitted the model, pinched some fabric under her armpits and asked the voice to hand her a pin. The voice obliged. She asked the model to twirl, pinched some fabric at the small of the back and asked for another pin. This went on for a few minutes till the head designer Vishal made his way to Khushi.

“I’m so sorry Arnav sir, but I don’t think Khushi realized it was you.”, he began. Arnav waved his hand at Vishal.

“It’s quite alright. I like her dedication.”

Just then Khushi turned to thank her voice to find Arnav, clad in a Vantablack three-piece suit. She continued looking at the suit for a while.

“It’s bespoke from Seville Row in London.”

“You always know what I’m thinking,” she smiled. “And thank you.”

She might have just extended her hand to shake his when a shrill voice calling out his name caught their attention.

“Arnavvvv..”, and a tall girl in her late twenties dressed in a peacock green halter neck gown made her way towards him. “I knew I would find you here,” she said, kissing his cheek and then proceeding to rub her lipstick off it. Khushi moved a few steps behind.

“This is fabulous. I can’t thank Shyam and Anjali enough for inviting me to this.”

And then turning her attention, she stretched her hands out and said, “Hi, I’m Sheetal Vohra, Shyam Jha’s business partner.”

Khushi and Vishal shook her hand and introduced themselves and Arnav politely excused the two of them.

****

“Sheetal Vohra”, muttered Khushi under her breath. Khushi had picked a soft pink sari with a white embroidered floral cut out border to wear at the event. She draped it like a gown and accessorized it with long silver earrings and a silver waist belt. Dabbing a liberal amount of rouge to accentuate her cheekbones, she continued to mutter gibberish under her breath. She lined her eyes with kohl and eyeliner and used a blend of golden and silver eyeshadow to highlight her eyes.

Pairing her outfit with silver-colored high heels, she gave herself one last twirl in front of the mirror before stepping out to join the others.

Aman was the first to greet her. “Khushi”, he exclaimed. “You look gorgeous!” And getting closer to her whispered, “If I didn’t know you liked ASR, I would honestly have asked you out on a date tonight.”

“Thank you”, she replied, a faint tint of red coloring her cheeks, “but I need to go and see to the dinner arrangements.”

Just as Khushi left Aman, Arnav found him. “She’s blended in so well with all this,” said Arnav to no one in particular. “I was so wrong about her. She really is Khushi, spreading happiness wherever she goes!”

Aman turned to ASR and smiled. “Now that you’ve realized it, what do you plan to do to keep happiness in your life forever?”

“I don’t know”, he said with a sense of longing. “I wish I did.” And then as an afterthought: “But I think I’m already too late now.”

Aman looked at his friend and colleague, flabbergasted.

“Since when did ASR start accepting defeat?”

“ASR doesn’t deserve Khushi.”

“True, but Arnav does. Think about that.” Saying, he walked away to join Khushi and help her out with the arrangements. While Arnav stood staring at Aman’s retreating figure, Sheetal looped her hand into his arm and led him towards where the media was waiting for his bytes.