Chapter 8

ShikhaKhushi

@ShikhaKhushi

Shashi Gupta's face had turned ashen, twisted in agony as he sank into one of the armchairs, his eyes closed in pain.

"I heard two stories," he told Arnav in a stable voice that was laced with suffering. "Her father was my own business partner, my best friend and cousin. Neeraj Gupta. He told me one story, she told me another. It had happened when I had had to go to Uganda for a month for a deal. He said that they had had an affair, that she was fully consenting. She said that he had raped her several times during that period... I chose to believe her. I kicked my cousin out of the house and severed all ties with him. But I gave my wife an ultimatum, she had to abandon the baby. She didn't want it anyway. When the girl was born, we went and left her with a woman in Lucknow. She had been a friend of Garima's long ago, a widow. We sent her a good amount of money each month to care for the girl and send her to school. We never saw her again."

He breathed shakily, possibly due to his guilt. "But then, Madhumatiji fell ill and she told her the truth. So, Khushi came here to find her roots. I almost sent her back without seeing her, you know? But Garima had just died, and the mention of that daughter of hers... I felt culpable for the first time in my life... And once I saw her... She looked so much like Garima. Her eyes, her voice... Even Payal didn't bear that much of resemblance to her mother. I accepted her. Seeing her everyday was like a little comfort. It felt like having Garima around. But one day, I was in the sunlight, in a certain angle, and I saw Neeraj and his betrayal in her. And I began doubting my wife... after twenty years... I was starting to hate Garima, the girl had become toxic, I had to send her away... so I sent her to you..."

"Why me?" Arnav breathed, numbed by Shashi's confession. Ever since he had known this man, he had an image of him, the image of a man so powerful that he could crush anything, anyone with the merest glare. The man who had been his inspiration... And now seeing this same man weakened was extremely appalling. It was like having the world torn apart.

Shashi opened his eyes and regarded Arnav expressionlessly. "That's for you to figure out."

***

He lay on his back, sleepless. Shashi's words kept haunting him.

That's for you to figure out.

Khushi is her illegitimate child.

We went and left her with a woman in Lucknow.

I had to send her away... so I sent her to you...

He sat up abruptly. The images of her flashed in his mind. Her sad, troubled face. Her lost eyes. Her, crossing the road blindly, almost getting crushed under that speeding car. Her fear when he had cornered her and kissed her that night at the party. Her, standing on that bridge...

He held his aching head between his hands as the images and words swam in his mind. All the signs had been there. How could he not have seen? His muscles coiled, Arnav briskly got up from the bed. She reminded him of himself.

Isolation was not the cure. Isolation would barricade her from the whole world and she would become the cold, heartless person that he himself was now. Could he let her become like that too?

***

"Adiilah! Adiilah!" An angry middle-aged woman burst in the tent, fuming. "Adiilah!"

The only girl inside jumped and uprooted the earphones from her ears. "Y-yes, Ms Briganza?"

"Tum yahaan kya kar rahi ho? Registration shuru honewala hai, you-" (What are you doing here? The registration is about to start, you-)

"Miss Briganza, Adiilaah ko humne yahaan bheja tha!" Another voice interrupted the woman and another girl entered the tent promptly, panting slightly. "Voh, humein kuchh gubbare chahiye the, bacchon ke liye." (Miss Briganza, I had sent Adiilah here! Actually I needed some balloons for the children.)

The older woman glared at them both before leaving and Adiilah heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Khushi. Tum na hoti, to aaj mera kabab ho jaata." (...If you had not been there, I would have been turned into a kebab.)

Khushi smiled at her friend. "Ab chaliye bhi, registration shuru karni hai." (Come now, we're starting the registration.)

Khushi's outfit: http://i1148.photobucket.com/albums/o573/ShikhaKhushi/74714983875375_zps5527e496.jpg

"Hitler quite likes you, you know?" Adiilah told her while they walked towards the entrance of the summer camp where hordes of children were awaiting. Khushi replied with a silent smile. Akaash, another guy who had volunteered to help out in the camp, like Adiilah and Khushi, jogged up to them.

"We have a last minute volunteer," he explained. "You still have the forms?"

Khushi nodded and opened the file in her hand to take out one of the forms which she handed out to him. Akaash was a teacher, and as he hated sitting idle during the summer, he volunteered in the camp. They had all become friends during the three weeks of formation they had had.

"Lijiye." (Here.)

He smiled at her fondly. "Thanks, Chamkili."

She frowned slightly as he ran back, leaving Adiilah giggling at her. Another volunteer, Lavanya, had tagged her with that name because of her colourful chudidars and jhumke. It had stuck to her like chewing gum. She did pretend to get annoyed, but to tell the truth, she liked this. She felt like she really belonged here, with these people. But she knew that this would only last these two months of summer... and after that?

She had tried hard to get used to the Gupta lifestyle, but it was too much to take in for her. Payal, her elder half-sister, was kind enough, but Khushi had not missed the silent disapproval in her eyes whenever they settled on her. She was not the most welcome in the family. Even Shashi seemed cold at times, even if he was a warm and protective father-like uncle at others. The truth behind her birth was still blurred. Had her mother been raped really or was she of traitorous nature?

She shook her head, hearing Adiilah chatter about something but she didn't listen. She had made herself close that chapter of her life. She didn't want to look back at it again. She had built that wall between herself and those things. As she saw Lavanya, a bright pink cap on her head, wave at her, she suddenly remembered her last night in Mumbai...

She gulped uneasily as his words came back to her. Was it true? Was she suicidal? She had not told anyone about the real reason for her leaving. But Arnav Singh Raizada's words had marked her. Whenever they rang in her mind, she felt hatred for herself. She felt like she was a creep. But it was also that night and his words that had made her realise that she needed to shutter her past out to survive.

Her eyes closed tight for a moment. When she opened them, they were blank. She sat down at one of the tables, with a smile that touched nothing but her lips, and the registration began.

***

One hour later, it was done. She got to her feet, swiping the back of her hand against her forehead and felt the sheen of sweat. The sun was shining very brightly that day. At once, Lavanya joined her.

"Hitler tujhe bula rahi hai," she announced, handing a bottle of iced water to Khushi. (Hitler is calling you.)

"Humne kya kiya?" the girl exclaimed in alarm. (What did I do?)

Lavanya chuckled. "Kuchh nahin! Bas voh naya volunteer hai, na? Usse to training nahin mili, to tujhe usse sab samjhaana padega." (Nothing! It's just, we have a new volunteer, right? He didn't get the training, so you'll have to explain things to him.)

Khushi quickly gulped half the bottle down. "Lekin hum kyun?" she whined. (Why me?)

"Tum itni obedient jo ho! Ab karo Hitler ki seva!" her friend laughed. "She likes you, Khushi, and so, she trusts you more than any of us. You're the only one who actually takes things seriously. Hum log to bas masti karte rehte hain!"

With a pat on the shoulder, La was gone and Khushi made her way to Ms Briganza's office. Manorama Briganza was in her late forties and from what Khushi had understood, she had, on a late teens spur, changed religion from Hinduism to Christianity, which was why no one had ever married her. But Manorama had no regrets, she felt proud to be independent but living alone had made her somewhat sour. She was called Hitler and scared people with her authoritarian attitude, but everyone surely did like her to an extent. Khushi timidly knocked at the door.

"Come in!"

She peeked in to find Mrs Briganza speaking to someone even as her eyes were on the door. "Ma'am? Aapne humein bulaaya?" (...Did you call me?)

Manorama addressed her with a half-smile. "Miss Gupta, we have a new volunteer. Show him around and explain the rules to him, please. Mr Raizada, this is..."

The woman's voice faded away as Khushi felt her ears pound deafeningly, turning white hot when the man turned around to look at her. She felt her eyes widen in shock, her limbs were already shaking. What was he doing here?