Chapter 64

shrattila

@shrattila

Hello

My favourite chapter so far. Two more to go before we wrap this one up. Eagerly awaiting your comments.

60

They sat that way, Arnav Singh Raizada, and Khushi Kumari Gupta, strangers, until six months ago, acknowledging the unknown thread that connected their lives. Their lips didn't move but their eyes conversed. The sound of their breathing constantly interrupted that conversation. The loud patter of raindrops interrupted the sound of breathing.

December rain in New Delhi wasn't unusual. Heavy rainfall accompanied by thunder and lightning was.

Khushi was the first to break contact. Taking her hand away from Arnav's she got up and stood near the french windows that overlooked the sprawling balcony. The raindrops had created abstract patterns on the glass doors. The mist had formed on the inside, giving the glass a frosted look. She traced little hearts on the mist with her index finger. Her thoughts were elsewhere.

In the short while she’d been sitting in Arnav’s apartment, she’d come to realize it was a mirror image of the one she’d lived in for the last six months - the one that was meant for his mistresses. She blew hot air over her little hearts erasing them all and started drawing lightning bolts instead.

Flashes of all that had happened in her life since she met Arnav Singh Raizada went through her mind. Her captivity at Sheesh Mahal, Payal’s broken marriage, her Babuji’s failing business, the demeaning proposal she’d accepted, Arnav’s hot and cold behavior, her marriage alliance with Aman, her Babuji’s heart attack…she stopped. Her head hurt.

The fat raindrops falling in the balcony were washing away all her pretense. For the first time, she saw herself differently. She was a coward. She had never given herself a chance. It had always been easier to sacrifice herself at the altar of gratitude, trade her dreams for those of Shashi’s and Garima’s. It made her feel good. It made her feel important. It made her feel worthwhile. Today, it made her feel small. Because the truth was that Shashi and Garima had never demanded that sacrifice.

When Shashi and Garima had opened their hearts and lives to Khushi, they had genuinely accepted her as their daughter. But had Khushi reciprocated their feelings in its entirety?

She thought of her past, of pursuing a degree in Law because her parents wished it. She had agreed to become Arnav’s mistress to save her Babuji’s failing business. And now, after having chased after and claimed her love, she was willing to sacrifice it all because she wasn’t sure what the future held? Worse, she had conveniently used her parents as an excuse to justify her actions.

"Khushi", Garima had spoken to her, distraught that Shashi was paralyzed. "The doctors have said your babuji cannot do anything on his own. Payal’s wedding is less than a month away. With her gone, who will take care of our shop? The shop belonged to your grandfather. Come back Khushi, come back. The shop needs you. Your babuji needs you. I need you." She had wept on Khushi's shoulder.

That's all it had taken for Khushi to decide she would walk away from the man she had professed her love to, two weeks ago. How easy it had been to convince herself that she was doing the right thing. How false it all had been. She had never stopped to think about how Shashi and Garima would feel if they found out about her sacrifices. Would they be able to live with themselves? Would they not wonder why Khushi hadn’t confided in them? Would they not begin to doubt their upbringing, their love for the girl?

But right now, it wasn’t so much about them. For the first time, Khushi was focusing on herself. Would she have behaved the same way if Rishi and Hema were still alive? Would she not have shared her deepest fears and her happiest moments with her them? Would she still have single-handedly taken decisions that could have derailed her life?

The heat from her fingers was turning the mist into small water droplets. Her lighting bolts were fast disappearing and ugly fingerprints were beginning to replace the absent-minded drawing on the glass.

Khushi closed her eyes and willed her mind to stay still. It was time she admitted some things to herself, even if she would never say it out loud. She loved Shashi and Garima unconditionally, but Rishi and Hema would always be her parents - the stars above with whom she shared her happiest memories and deepest fears, to whom she looked to for guidance; that she was irrevocably in love with Arnav Singh Raizada, the man who was responsible for every wrong thing she’d faced in the last six months; that life was going to be unpredictable and the only way to truly live was to believe; and that everything was always okay in the end. If it wasn’t okay, it wasn’t the end.

Khushi didn't acknowledge Arnav’s presence behind her till she felt his warm breath on her shoulder. She closed her eyes to savor the sensation. She smiled at herself. She had hated him, fought him, stubbornly stood up to him, but now all she wanted was to give herself up to him. She believed, for the first time, in the patterns of destiny. At this moment, she was happy.

An hour ago, she was about to do what she had always done - put her family’s needs before hers. She had fully intended to walk away and go back to Lucknow. In time she would eventually forget Arnav Singh Raizada. She had convinced herself that the two of them didn’t belong together anyway. That they weren’t meant to be.

Except none of that was true. She’d found out that their destinies were enmeshed long before the two crossed paths.

"Khushi", Arnav whispered in her ears. Her breathing hitched. She willed her mind to stay calm, but her body was acting traitorous, springing to life at the mere hint of his voice.

"Arnav", she whispered, taking a step back to lean into his strong form. The whisper was prayer. What was she praying for? She herself didn't know. She raised her hand to gently caress his cheeks, savoring the feel of touching the man she loved. She threaded her fingers through his hair, all the while staring at the raindrops that fell askew on the balcony. She brought her hand down and led his hand to her waist. She wanted to be held. Then she gently placed her palm on top of his hand, tilted her head backward and whispered in his ears, "Arnav, make me yours."

*****

Khushi’s request left Arnav speechless. She had voiced his thoughts, and yet now that she had said them, he didn’t know if that’s what he really wanted. He turned her around so she faced him. “Khushi,” he asked, gently cupping her face, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were closed, tears glistening in the moonlight on her lashes. Another word escaped her lips. “Please.” She needed that moment, that memory, for herself.

“Open your eyes”, he asked of her. She complied. He looked into her eyes for a while and then without saying a word, led her to the sofa they were sitting on a while ago. She sat right next to him and placed her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and rubbed her shoulders gently.

They sat like that for a while, Arnav seeping warmth into her body. "What's wrong?” he asked. She owed him the truth, not the rational explanation she had given him a while ago.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"Your Babuji will be fine, Khushi," he draped his arm over her shoulder to hold her hand.

"Not that." She fidgeted with his fingers, crisscrossing them with hers. Drawing courage from his touch, she continued talking without looking at him. "I'm scared you'll outgrow me. Just like you outgrew the others. And where will that leave me? I don't have the courage to deal with the pain anymore. I truly love you. But it’s all very new. And I am scared of what I feel for you."

Arnav smiled a sad wistful smile. His past was finally catching up with him. Unaware Khushi continued. Tears were flowing freely from her eyes and she brushed them aside.

"I'm just another girl you've professed your love to. You're used to this. But I'm not. I don't want to lose you and I don't know what I should do so that you..."

Arnav placed his hand on her mouth to stop her from speaking.

"It's not the same,” he said, trying his best to explain his past. “You and the others, it's all very different.” How he wished, he had led his life differently. He was feeling uncomfortable simply talking about it. Imagine how uncomfortable Khushi would have felt. She had lived in the apartment where he had debauched women. Each one of them had been willing, but that didn’t justify anything, he realized.

He stopped. This wasn’t the time to go down that route. He couldn’t change his past. But he needed to convince the woman sitting in front of him that he was a changed man.

"I have been many things in my life Khushi”, he said haltingly, “but I’m not a liar. I have never professed my love to anyone before you, you stupid, stubborn, willful woman. There is no one who has enraged and excited me the way you have.

"You've challenged my authority, stubbornly opposed me, saved my life and unconditionally loved me. I love you Khushi Kumari Gupta and I want to continue loving you till the very end of my life."

Khushi looked up, amazed at what she was hearing. Arnav didn’t pay attention. He wanted to say it all before the conversation went a different direction.

"I don't want to rush you to bed. You deserve much more than that. You deserve marriage and kids and a happy and blissful life. And I want to be the one to give you that.”

“Khushi Kumari Gupta, I, Arnav Singh Raizada am truly madly, deeply in love with you.”

He reached into his pocket to take out the diamond ring he’d been carrying around all day. Placing it on his palm, he asked: "Khushi, you've turned my life around and taught me the true meaning of love. Today, in front of your parents and mine, I want ask you - will you marry me?"

Khushi looked at the ring dumbstruck. She had never hoped that Arnav would propose. That wasn’t true. She had hoped from the bottom of her heart. She had never wanted to believe it. She knew she didn't have it in her to suffer heartbreak.

Smiling through her tears, she picked up the ring. Holding her hand out for Arnav to slide it onto her finger she replied, “Yes Ravan Singh Raizada, I will."