Chapter 4

rulama

@rulama

[MEMBERSONLY]

[NOCOPY]

MARRYING KHUSHI

(Thank you nishu_shorna for the lovely banner)

(Thanks a million for the gorgeous banner, Akorshi)

(Thanx a million, Nishu_Shorna, for the fab banner!)

Part 4

Running into each other

Arnav threw the portfolio of a hopeful model across the table. It skidded across the vast, smooth expanse and fell to the ground, scattering the photos stored within it.

Anjali looked at Aman. Both of them stared at ASR.

He turned to the window and looked out at the city of Lucknow. Hundreds of houses, many streets, many shops, thousands of people... and among them, somewhere... was hidden his girl.

"Chotey, you didn't like the new crop of models?" Anjali asked her brother's straight, slim back, sighing.

"No."

"Sir, we will get the next list from Lines and Figures agency in ten minutes." Aman comforted him, hoping to avoid witnessing more objects flying in the air.

Arnav stared out of the window, trying to keep his panic down. Where was she? What would he do if she did not appear as a candidate? If she refused to fall for the lure of a modelling contract, fame, money, success...?

"Chotey, what is wrong with the models we met? What more do you expect from a small town like Lucknow?" Anjali was at the end of her patience. Chotey was unpredictable and stubborn at the best of times, but this time he had managed to raise the bar for himself!

"They... they are not what I am looking for." ASR said, images of the girl rushing in to his head. What kind of madness was this? He worked with beautiful women day in and day out. Not a single one had succeeded in making an impression in his head, let alone his heart. And now... He stood still, his eyes shut, feeling his heart thud in his ribcage at the very thought of his girl.

It was evening.

Another full day of meeting models, and not one of them had been his girl. ASR rubbed the back of his neck, weary, scared of failure...

Di had finally selected eight girls, and sent them for a month's training. But his girl... Where was she? Arnav grabbed his coat, and rushed out of the room.

Aman looked at Anjali.

"Madam, what is wrong with ASR?" Aman asked softly.

"Either he has fallen in love or a wasp has bitten him." Anjali chuckled wryly.

Aman looked at her slack-jawed. "ASR in love? Must be the wasp. That is more probable."

"Miracles do happen, Amanji!" she trilled.

ASR rushed to the spot he had seen his girl dancing in abandon to the music of the band, her hair flying in the wind, the dupatta of her pink and violet lehenga trailing after her, the skirt of her lehenga clinging to her lissome figure...

He looked around.

Rickshaws, buses, people on two-wheelers... vendors... cows... temple bells ringing... policeman trying to control the unruly traffic... Where was she? How could he find her? He had no idea of her name, age, family, address... He would have to go from house to house to identify her... What if she was a visitor to Lucknow, and not a resident? He paled at the horrendous thought, his heart sinking to his shoes.

No, no, he wouldn't lose her. She wouldn't escape him.

He was Arnav Singh Raizada, ASR the tycoon.

He straightened, standing firm and tall. Nothing was impossible for him. From nothing, he had made everything his family had today. Like the phoenix, he had risen from his own ashes. He could do it. He would get her, whatever happened, even if she was hidden in the farthest corner of the earth. Anything else was unacceptable!

He walked around, looking closely at the faces of the people passing by. He walked on to the road, still scanning profiles and visages. He should have just pulled her in to his car when he had seen her, and driven off. He should not have let her out of his sight, ASR panicked, rubbing his chest lightly as he stood in the middle of the road, deaf to the blaring sound of the horns asking him to move out of the way of the traffic.

Anjali & Aman looked at the stern, cold face of the man driving the car. He looked ill, totally preoccupied with his unhappy thoughts. He was not sleeping well, not eating well... His face looked almost fleshless, gaunt, the grooves running from the sides of his nostrils down to his jaw, pronounced in his misery...

What could she do? He wouldn't open up to her or anyone else. He was looking for some girl, she was sure. But he hadn't found her. They had been in Lucknow for four days, and were now returning to Delhi, defeated. Anjali looked away out of the window to hide her moist eyes.

Her eyes caught sight of the famous Gomti Nagar market.

"Chotey, can you stop the car for a moment?" she asked sweetly. "I would like to buy some ber and kajal for Mami."

ASR halted the car near the gateway to the market. Anjali made to leave the vehicle, but Arnav stopped her.

"Di, sit in the car. The ground is uneven, and it is getting dark." he said brusquely. "I will buy you whatever you want."

"Sir, I can..." Aman offered.

"No, you can't. Di's list will soon be so long that you won't be able to remember half the things in it." ASR said, his lips twisting in slight amusement.

Anjali pouted. "Chotey, that's unfair."

"Really? Fine. Then I will just get the ber & the kajal." Arnav left the car and made to move away.

Anjali called out through her open window, "Chotey! Get some karela too if they are fresh. And some chudi. If the bindis are good, then buy them too. Henna cones... kurtis if they are good... jootis... bed sheets with chikan kari work... jadau jhumkas... incense sticks... attar... pickles..."

Arnav looked at Aman's astonished face for a moment. Then both men looked away to hide their smiles.

Arnav walked in to the huge market. It was dusk, and lanterns and lights lit up the entire space. Hundreds of small shops set in alley after narrow alley sold everything under the sun. A frown creasing his forehead, Arnav quickly picked out the many things his Di wanted. Soon he had two bags full of gifts.

"Sir, I will store them in the car." Aman appeared behind him.

"I will get the pickle." Arnav said as he handed over the two bags and walked away in search of the appropriate shop.

Holding a glass bottle of mango pickle in his hand, Arnav made his way out of the shop in to the dark, narrow street. He looked around. He needed to walk to the end of the road & turn right to reach the main part of the market. He looked at his watch in the dim light. He needed to get going.

ASR walked rapidly forward, making his way through the crowd, holding the bottle carefully in his hand. He reached the end of the street, his long legs eating up the distance effortlessly.

It was a dark corner. As Arnav navigated the sharp bend, a soft warm body hurtled in to his, knocking the bottle out of his hand.

The bottle fell to the ground and cracked, the oily tangy mess of the pickle slowly seeping out through the crack on to the earth.

But ASR heard nothing, saw nothing. His girl... he had finally found her... or she had found him... He stood as though turned to stone, feeling the warmth of the feminine bundle against his hard chest and body...

Slowly his arms rose to gather her close. His right arm crossed her lower back and pulled her lower body as close as possible to his.

His left hand touched her between her shoulder blades, pushing her against him. He stood, silent, immobile, feeling her breath against his throat, her silky hair against his cheek, her heart thudding against his, her limbs touching his long legs, his fingers feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin cotton of her suit, his nostrils filled with the scent of jasmine... Her arms were around his waist... He should have chucked the coat before setting out for Delhi. Then he could have felt her touch with greater intensity...

As he stood there, caught in the magic of the moment, the girl tried to free herself, first gently and then vigorously.

Reluctantly, his arms fell away.

She lifted her head and he looked in to the most beautiful face he had ever seen in his short life, lit by the dim lantern of a nearby shop.

Wide hazel eyes looked at him in astonishment.

ASR stared at her, unable to believe his eyes. He had found her!

He caught her by the arm to ensure that she did not leave him again; his eyes looked at her with so much intensity from his stern face that she felt he was peeling off her skin and looking under.

She tried to free her arm from his hold, but he was in no mood to let go. His burning eyes, his clenched jaw, the bite of his fingers on the soft flesh of her arm... all told her that he was angry. Furious.

She frowned. Why should he be angry with her? They had just met.

She looked down and saw the shattered bottle of pickle on the ground. Her face blanched.

"Awww!" she put up her hand, the fingers covering the perfect O of her parted lips.

ASR looked at her, drinking in every expression, every nuance of her personality, every look, every thought as though he were a thirsty traveller and she an oasis in a desert.

She folded her hands, even though one arm was under his custody.

"I am so sorry, so so sorry! Lakhon sorry. Please, maaf keejiye hamein. Devi Maiyya ki kasam, I did not mean to do it!" Her voice! It was honey sweet.

ASR swallowed hard. She had never spoken in his dreams.

Her penitent eyes looked at him with worry and shame in their depths.

"Buaji always says that I am clumsy, that I should look where I am going!" She hit her head with her hand. "But how can Khushi Kumari Gupta do that? If she does not knock in to things and trip over something, people will think that she is sick."

ASR's eyes took care not to miss a single twitch of hers.

Khushi Kumari Gupta! That was her name, Khushi!

"I will buy you a new bottle of pickle. You bought it from Ramu Chacha's shop, didn't you? You must have. He is the best in Gomti Nagar market!" Arnav found himself being held by the arm, turned around, and dragged back to the shop he had previously favoured.

He turned his head to look at the slip of a girl towing him ahead through the crowd. He was happy. In the crowd of thousands of people, in an unfamiliar noisy market in Lucknow, he was happy. Because she was with him.

She led him to the shop, and at the door, shouted, "Ramu Chacha!"

The elderly proprietor looked up. It was a busy evening, and a big crowd was milling around the displays.

"Kaa he, Bitiyaa?" he shouted.

"I am taking a bottle of your mango pickle. The bada wala." she announced.

"Humka poochne ki kauno jaroorat he kaa?" the man asked. "Jo chahiye, le lio."

She grabbed a big bottle of pickle, and holding it in one hand and his arm in the other, proceeded to leave.

"Who is this boy in coat, suit, and boot with you, Khussi? Have you got engaged without my knowledge?" the old man teased.

Khushi pouted. "How can I get engaged to another man, Chacha? I am still waiting for you to grow up and get some teeth!"

The elderly man chuckled, and he was joined by his helpers and the customers, most of whom knew Khushi and her family. Arnav paid close attention to the occupants of the room.

"Come here!" the man summoned her.

Khushi went to him, dragging Arnav behind her. She handed over the bottle of pickle to Arnav.

The old man placed a piece of pickled mango in her mouth, and gave her another piece. "That is for the babua with you."

Khushi smiled her thanks, gave Arnav his piece, and left the shop sucking on her piece of mango and holding ASR by his arm.

"Tell your father that I will see him on Tuesday at the temple." the old man hollered.

"Have you missed meeting him on Tuesday atleast once in 20 years, Chacha, for me to remind him of this week's meeting?" she asked around the mango, waving at Ramu Chacha.

"Your father?" Arnav asked.

Khushi's face lit up. She pulled him closer to avoid a bullock cart that was delivering goods to a shop in the street. "My Babuji. Do you know who my Babuji is?" she asked cheerfully, pride on her face.

"No." ASR said.

"He is a big businessman in Lucknow." Khushi boasted.

"Acha?" ASR asked.

"Ji." Khushi emphasised. "Haven't you heard of Satwik Mistaan Bhandaar?"

ASR frowned. "No."

Khushi was scandalised. "In which world do you live? How can you not hear of the most popular sweet shop in Lucknow?"

ASR had to look away from the consternation on her face to hide a strong urge to burst out laughing.

"You are ashamed! Good. You should be. My father, Sasi Gupta is the best halwai in Lucknow. His peda! His laddoo! And do you know who I am?" She placed her hands on her hips as she challenged him, her brows wiggling.

"Khushi?" he asked softly. How wonderful her name sounded!

"Offo! That's just my name. I am really the Jalebi Bai of Lucknow!" she claimed.

ASR looked at her with awe in his eyes.

"Ji. People stand in long queues to buy my jalebis." she claimed cheerfully.

"Really?" He raised one eyebrow.

"Really. If you don't believe me..." she looked around. "...ask Ramu Chacha... or Lallan Chacha... or Rajesh Mama... or..."

ASR looked down at the sweet face of Khushi, his girl, frowning as she tried to rope in as many uncles as she could to prove her right to the title of Jalebi Bai of Lucknow. He wanted to kiss her senseless. He clenched his fists and his jaw, every muscle, every sinew, every tendon stood alert as he tried very hard to control himself.

He should have organised a cooking contest in Sheesh Mahal, not a fashion show, he thought.