IPKKND FF: JALEBI by Jalebi Jane Thread 1: EPISODE 001-042 - Page 61

Originally posted by: meera06

Though I remember most of the story, I actually don't remember about Arnav not knowing about Asha's father.

JALEBI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 026)

I CANNOT THINK WELL OF ANY MAN WHO SPORTS WITH A WOMAN'S FEELINGS* and especially not one who proposes marriage in order to subjugate her spirit. But whatever I may think of that Laad Governor's intentions, in one regard, I give him his due. He knew that words alone would not have convinced Khushi he was a serious suitor. For three weeks he had unceasingly tormented her; only the most unequivocal action would now convince her that he had all along been in love with her.

So he took action.

And it worked.

For even with that other weighty matter at hand, when Khushi awoke that morning, Arnav's ring was heaviest on both her hand and her heart. Yes, Sisters, she did now accept that Arnav Singh Raizada must be in love. Not because he said so---no!---but because she could see no other rational reason for why he would wish to marry her.

But this did not follow that Khushi was in any way appeased---. Nor did she feel---what we perhaps might---that to win Arnav's heart was a splendid coup. A compliment to her powers. No. There was absolutely no triumph felt. Nor any temptation. For she knew that love did not alter character. She had always known him to be an arrogant, conceited man and now all that had changed was that he was an arrogant, conceited man-in-love.

She could never marry a man like Mr Raizada. The frisson when he drew near, the impulse to taste his lips---that was some form of madness that had nothing to do with love. Even though she had never experienced love, Khushi was confident she would recognize it when it finally arrived. For Devi's sake, she did not even like him!

The ring would be returned to him as soon as he returned to Delhi. And on this she was resolute before her feet even touched the floor.

Indeed, by the time she was dressed---by the time she exited the bedroom and entered the front room---she had also worked out the rough outline of the speech with which she would deliver the ring and her refusal. Oh, it was film-worthy! Have no doubt about it.

PAYAL AND BUAJI WERE AT THE TABLE with cups of tea. There was no sign of breakfast. The biscuit tin was present but remained untouched. Buaji's face was swollen from sleep, tears and chagrin. But she was fortunately silent.

Almost eerily so.

"I was just telling Buaji that she must telephone our tenants in Lucknow," Payal said, pouring Khushi a cup from the thermos.

"Kyun?" asked Khushi, digging into the biscuit tin. And remembering to keep her left hand concealed under the table.

Buaji did not respond. She did not even lift her eyes from her teacup.

Payal enlarged, "if things fall apart---" and then darting an uneasy glance at her aunt, she softened her statement, and said "---what I mean is, if there is difficulty in immediately reclaiming this house from Shyam, we must go somewhere. At least we still have the Lucknow house."

At these words, Buaji crumpled into a doleful cry, burying her face into the kitchen towel ever-ready at her shoulder.

Payal reached mechanically for Buaji's hands to comfort, but her focus remained on Khushi as she completed, "we'll have to break the lease they signed with us." And then added with a sigh, "if they refuse, we may have to offer them some monetary compensation."

Another cry rose from the older woman at these words.

Khushi attempted to hush Buaji by suggesting, "let's wait until the end of the day." She threw Payal a look which conveyed to her sister that she fully depended upon the memory stick to make such a conversation with their Lucknow tenants unnecessary.

Payal was about to speak when a knock at the door interrupted her---.

With the agility of a woman half her age, Buaji leapt from the table, and shrieked, "It's him! Nandekishore-Knows, it's that Snake! He's come to throw us out even before we've had our morning tea."

"Calm yourself, Buaji," Payal said, rightly pointing out, "Shyam is never up this early."

"Nor would he bother to knock at the door of a house he now owns," Khushi added, under her breath, as she rose to open the door.

You might wonder why the girls were more sanguine than the aunt. It was because they knew what she did not: Parisa Khan was expected this morning.

And yes, it was that very angel---who flew in with glowing smiles and morning wishes---bringing much needed radiance into their gloom. Seeing her brought tears to Khushi's eyes.

This!---yes, this was the meaning of friendship, Sisters.

Pari had received from Khushi a hasty text of crypic meaning at 2am this morning. And without asking a single question or voicing any objection, she had arrived as bid. On time. And bringing with her all her restorative charm.

Buaji, relieved to see someone other than Shyam enter the room, did not question why Pari was there. She had met the young woman on only one previous occasion, and had dismissed her then as a nobody; a person as inconsequential to her as the ladki who presented the tv weather report. And on this particular day, immersed in her own tragedy, Buaji found Pari's fresh-faced exuberance particularly insufferable. She followed Payal's hint to prepare fresh tea, and was pleased when the girls led their animated guest out of her sight and into their bedroom.

No fresh tea was required, of course. Payal's objective was privacy. The moment the three were behind closed doors, Pari removed a bundle from her tote.

She shook it free and there---between her pinched fingers---she presented her contribution to the primary task of the day. The disguise which would allow Payal to follow Shyam. The disguise which would discover where he went each day with the hope that he would lead her straight to that imagined cabinet containing details of his nefarious crimes. The disguise had been Khushi's late-night genius.

It was a burqa, of course.

*Adapted from Jane Austen's -Mansfield Park-

By Jalebi Jane