*Unedited
Khushi peered out the window of the moving train. It was late afternoon and the sun kept disappearing behind the dense vegetation of the hillside; the rays of light filtering through the treetops. She watched the countryside rushing by, the image nothing more than a quick succession of blurred colours. Adjusting her palla back over her shoulder, she leaned back into her seat and let her eyes flutter shut. A shrill whistle sounded somewhere in the distance. The train would soon arrive at the next station. Almost immediately the speed dropped off and the compartment began to marginally oscillate from side to side; the click clack of the wheels against the track now thunderous.
The public address speaker crackled loudly in the empty compartment.
"Kripya dhyan di jiye, Lucknow se Delhi wali gadi ab Ramgad peh das minute keh liye rukh keh gi. Jebkhatra se savdhan rahiye ga." (Please pay attention, The Lucknow to Delhi Train will now stop at Ramgad for ten minutes. Beware of pickpockets.)
Sighing, Khushi sat up and rubbed her tired eyes; the idea of sleep on an Indian train a distant dream. It was impossible to sleep with out him anyway. A flurry of activity ensued over the next few minutes. Passengers embarked the train with an apprehensive velocity as they rushed to get to their allocated seats. Vendors walked up and down the aisles, flogging their goods. A gangly looking man, with an impressive moustache held three large metal churns, shifting down the rows with laboured steps. For a man of a petite frame his nasally voice boomed down the aisle...
"Ai ai chai ai, masala chai, adraak chai, coffee ai. Ai ai chai ai, masala chai, adraak chai, coffee ai." (Come and get chai, masala chai, ginger tea, cofeee...come get chai, masala chai, ginger tea, coffee)
Khushi signalled him over.
"Bhaiya ek cup aadrak chai." (Can I get a cup of ginger tea?)
With a loud clang the churns were kept on the floor. Opening his zip up bag, hung from his shoulder, he retrieved a thermocol cup, pouring the tea with impressive dexterity.
"Kitna hua?" (How much?) Khushi bent her head fishing money out from her bag.
"Das rupey." (10 rupees)
She looked up in alarm, her eyes wide and her mouth open. "Das rupey? Loot machchi hai kya? Bahar toh paanch rupee ka milta hai. Sahi daam lagayie bhai sahab." (10 rupees? Are you trying to rob me? Outside I can get the same tea for 5 rupees. Now tell me the real price.)
"Kya khit khit kar rahi hain bibi ji...aap kisi seh bhi pooch li jiye. Rail gadi mein das rupee ki hi milti hai chai." (Why are you waiting my brain miss? Ask anyone. In the train you get tea for 10 rupees)
Khushi gaped at his audacity. Getting angry she pointed at him "Dekhiye sahi daam lagaye varna ham nahi lenge." (Look give me the right price or I won't buy it)
The vendor shrugged..."Aapki marzi." (Your choice)
Khushi could see that her patronage had no real effect on him and he wasn't going to budge from his price. Having too much of a headache to continue this battle she frowned. "Ab jo aap ne chai nikali hai, toh de hi dee jiye." (Now that you've taken it out you might as well give it to me)
Thrusting ten rupees into his hand she glared at him. Pocketing the money he walked away, his distinct voice once again advertising his wares. So much for the samosa she had intended to buy. She shuddered to think of the price. Enjoying the momentary solitude, she deeply inhaled the rich aroma of ginger and tulsi, wrapping her cold fingers around the warm cup. Taking a loud sip on the piping hot tea she sighed in satisfaction. It hit the spot. Suddenly she remembered the matri amma had packed in her tiffin. Munching on the savoury goods she appeased her rumbling stomach.
The trip to Lucknow had been an impromptu one. It had been two years since jiji's wedding and by that account her own. How that time had flown by she would never know. With Arnavji away on a business trip, loneliness had enveloped her in its melancholia and Khushi whiled away the day at Shantivaan listless and without purpose. Di and Naniji suggested a trip to Lucknow would lift her spirits and she had jumped at the idea. Arnavji was just as much a Laad Governor in love then out of love. The idea of Khushi going anywhere without him was just not acceptable or vice versa. Since it was not always feasible to take Khushi with him, he hated travelling for business and tried to cut down on his trips as much as possible. Visiting her family was a remote possibility. Every time she brought up the topic he would heartily agree and promised to try and find time in his busy schedule. Except there was never any. With him gone for two weeks the timing couldn't have been more perfect.
Her thoughts were disturbed by the door beside her sliding opening. Till now, the four seater berth opposite her had been unoccupied. A large punjabi man, carrying bulky suitcases, walked into the compartment, looking over his shoulder.
"Kamo, aagayi humri gaddi..." (Kamo, we have arrived at our seats)
The middle aged woman followed her husband; children in tow. A young girl, of about one or two years, sat perched upon her mothers hip sucking her thumb. Her hair was fashioned in two thick pig tails and Khushi had an inexplicable urge to pinch her cheeks. A boy of about six tagged behind her, clutching onto her kurti. Several voices filled the silent compartment and Khushi sat up enthused with the rush of activity.
"Suniye...yeh Keeran humara peecha nahi chodra hai." (Listen...Keeran is not leaving me alone.) Kamo, was having a tough time managing both the kids and her luggage.
"Chaal puttar, papa naal aah." (Come on son...come to papa) The man put out his arms to his son. Keeran stood behind his mother shaking his head. "Rehn de, yeh toh tere naal chipka hai." (Forget it, he's glued to you) Grabbing the duffel bag in his wife's hand he placed it on the birth above, freeing her to sit down. Kamo sat down with a relived sigh as her husband put away the suitcases. With that job done he adjusted his belt, so that his wide girth sat more comfortably over it.
Patting his paunch in satisfaction, he turned around and realised they had company. A smile lit up his face and in a very jovial manner he called out..."Oi! Sasriakaal puttar." (Oh! Hi kid!) He walked forward and clapped Khushi on the shoulder extending his hand out to her.
She shook his hand enthusiastically.
"Namaste hum Khushi hain." (Namaste. I'm Khushi)
Shaking her hand with equal vigour he stood up and pointed to his family. "Hum hain Harvinder, yeh meri bivi Kamo, mera puttar Keeran, aur yeh teh meri beti Simran." (I'm Harvinder, this is my wife Kamo, my son Keeran and my daughter Simran) he declared proudly. Dusting invisible crumbs off his beard he sat down with his family. Kamo smiled at Khushi politely. Noticing the sindoor in her hair she asked...
"Aapke ke pati apke saath nahi hain?" (Your husband isn't with you?)
Khushi looked wistful. "Woh nah kaam se videsh gaye hai. Toh hum apne maika chale gaye. Ab hum apne ghar laut rahe hai." (He's gone overseas for work. So I decided to pay a visit to my maternal home. I am returning from there)
Kamo turned to her husband annoyed. "Dehkiye ji... kitni bar humne aap se kaha hai keh humme apne ghar jaana hai." (Listen! How many times have I told you that I want to go back home) Turning back to Khushi she complained..."Yeh kabhi bhi humme nahi jaane deh teh." (He never let's me leave)
Harvinder laughed and sat back in his seat comfortably. "Loh... karlo gal aur sunlo baat...khud hi jaati hain apni maa keh ghar aur ek din meh wapas laut aati hain. Isme meri galti kahan?" Winking at his wife he looked at Khushi conspiratorially..."Reh hi nahi sakdi humare bina." (Would you listen to that! She's the one who comes running back to me after one day. How is that my fault. She can't live without me you see!"
Kamo blushed. "Dhat! Aap bhi. Kaisi baatein kar rahein hai." (Phwoar! You are too much. What kind of things are you saying?")
Khushi giggled and sat up on her cross legged. Anecdotes of her own arguments with Arnavji flashed before her eyes. She recalled the way his whole body would tense just at the mention of her going to visit her parents. Her heart ached for him. Only one more day and she would see him.
Keeran who had no interest in this conversation pulled on his mother's arm. Repeating his demands over and over again he whined...
"Mumma lolly nahi dithi. Lolly nahi dithi mumma." (Mum you didn't me the lolly! Mum you didn't me the lolly!)
"Uff Keeran...sabhar kar puttar." (Uff Keeran...be a little patient)
Simran screamed in her mother's arms and Harvinder got out her milk bottle testing the temperature on his own arm. Suddenly Khushi imagined Arnav and her in the scenario. A glow radiated off of her at the domesticity of the image in her mind. She could see the parents were struggling so she offered to help. Taking Keeran's hand she convinced him to play a game of naughts and crosses with her. Eventually fatigue caught up with him and he sat in Khushi's lap listening to the story of Sundari and Shaitaan. The three adult passengers whiled away the rest of their time talking and eating, Keeran fast asleep in Khushi's lap.
******************************************************************************
The chaos of a thousand lives colliding on a single railway platform hit Khushi with full force. Without any regard for social etiquette hoards of people pushed and shoved their way through to their intended destination. Stepping on to the platform gingerly from the steep steps of the carriage, Khushi held onto a sleeping Keeran for dear life, wary of the several questionable characters around her. Relatively newer LED lamp posts flooded bright light over them, illuminating the station at night. The wind was crisp and Khushi pulled her pashmina shawl a little tighter, shivering from the cold. Men sat down on the floor, propping themselves up against the pillars, exhaling the smoke of their cigarettes. Mixed with this was the distinct smell of sweet milky chai, roasting moomphali, engine oil, trace amounts of urine and naphthalene balls presumably from the bedding people lugged along.
People were busy living their lives; there was no time for niceties. Hundreds of conversations compounded into a singular hum, reverberating loudly courtesy of the poor acoustics. A waving hand in the midst of the crowd caught her attention. Struggling to get through the masses, he was jostled from side to side, his shoulders squeezed inward maximising the limited space. Arnav Singh Raizada stuck out like a sore thumb in his low slung jeans and blue sweater vest. He stumbled out into a little clearing in the crowd a few feet away from her and yelled out over the noise...
"Khushi!"
Catching her attention he felt his anger dissipate. Only he knew how much he had missed her. Waking up alone, the bed had felt that much bigger, that much colder...that much emptier. He had yearned for the sweet fragrance of her damp hair in the mornings, the few dew drops that lingered on his face after as she bent down to kiss him awake and the melodious chime of her payal as she flitted from place to place. Now after two torturous weeks, standing a little way away from him, was his wife with a twinkle in her teary eyes and a broad smile. Suddenly the fact that she had gone off to her parents without informing him didn't seem to be such a big deal. Right now all that mattered was that she was here...with him. Walking toward her, he became acutely aware of the dark circles surrounding her lower lids; her delicate skin a touch swollen and discoloured. Mr. & Mrs. Raizada were at odds with Hypnos once again. Just below her eyes, a vivacious red coloured her cheeks from where the wind had gnawed her skin raw. Faint traces of sindoor were evident in the midline parting, flecks of it staining her nose. The pale yellow mysore silk saree fluttered with the light evening breeze and Arnav caught a glimpse of his wife's creamy stomach; the curve of her hip just that bit slimmer since he had seen her last. A single tear escaped her glassy eyes and she hiccuped a little with the joy of seeing him.
"Arnavji..." Khushi could not believe her eyes, so she sufficed with the evidence of her thundering heart.
"Hi..." He whispered, his voice as husky as ever.
"Hi..." she replied back a little nervous. Instantly she giggled. Devi Maiya! He was her husband not some stranger that she should be so nervous upon meeting him. Arnav smirked and opened his mouth only to be cut off...
"Arre puttar apna samaan toh lehti jao." (Hey kid! Don't forget your stuff)
Khushi jumped and looked around. She began to mumble to herself. "Khushi tuh bhi nah bilkul pagal hai. Buaji thik hi keh thi hain. Sanki hain hum. Samaan kaise bhul gaye?" Thrusting Keeran in Arnav's arms, she ran back to Harvinder to help him with the luggage. (Khushi! You really are crazy! Buaji is right...I am mad. How could I forget the luggage?)
"What the!" Arnav looked at the half asleep kid in his arms wearing a yellow turban. In his stupor he hadn't even noticed him. Keeran yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes with small fists. Looking at Arnav he mumbled...
"Mumma kithe gayi?" (Where's mum?)
Arnav looked around uncomfortably and gave an smile that more closely resembled a grimace. "Uh...I don't know buddy." An insane thought crossed his mind. Khushi hadn't adopted this kid had she? With his wife nothing was out of the question. He sincerely prayed that it wasn't the case. For starters the kid was staring at him as though he were an alien plus he didn't know how to speak Punjabi. Unsatisfied with the strange man's answer and tired from the journey, Keeran began to wail and bang his fists against Arnav's chest. "Mumma kithe gayi?" he cried over and over. Arnav awkwardly patted him on the back trying to comfort him. Where was his crazy wife?
Arnav was having a difficult time trying to manage the kicking and screaming Keeran. Through the crowd Khushi emerged once more followed by a Punjabi man of a large build. "Arreh Keeran acche bacche rote nahi." (Keeran...good boys don't cry) Prying him from her husband's arms she gave the small boy a kiss and he seemed to settle down. Arnav breathed a sigh of relief.
"Baada sona munda hai." (He's a handsome fellow) Harvinder teased Khushi. Khushi looked at Arnav in earnest pride and blushed. Keeran lay his head against Khushi's shoulder and let his eyes's shut still mumbling his favourite catchphrase..."Mumma kithe gayi?" (Where's mum?) Harvinder took his son and thanked her for her help. Waving them goodbye he left the couple alone. Arnav meanwhile was watching the exchange curiously. He deduced that Khushi must have made friends of the train. Shaking his head he felt a warmth spread through him. He was home. The very next second, Khushi turned around and crashed into her husbands chest, not caring what anyone thought. Arnav sighed in content and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Kissing her forehead he inhaled the scent of her hair, resting his face in the crook of her neck. After sometime they separated and Arnav rearranged her mussed hair.
"Aap ek din jaldi agaye?" (You came a day early?)
Picking up her bag he raised his eyebrow. "Accha hua ke meh jaldi aah gaya. Phir kaise patha chalta ke meri biwi mujhe bataye bina Lucknow gayi hai...aur woh be train meh!" (It's a good thing I did. Otherwise how would I know that my wife has gone to Lucknow and that too in a train.) The last part of that sentence was said with a touch of disdain. Khushi wrinkled her nose annoyed at the fact that her Laad Governor was already telling her off and that too in the middle of a train station. "Khushi tum train meh kyun gayi...kum se kum Mohan toh tumhe gadi meh leh sakh ta tha." (Khushi why did you go in the train...at least Mohan could have taken you in the car.)
Putting her hands on her hips she stuck her tongue out at him. "Hum train meh iss liye gaye the kyun ki humme pasand hai. Aur kyun ki humme aap ko taang karna accha lag ta hai. Ab Laad Governor agar apka gussa khatam ho gaya ho, toh hum ghar chalein?" (I went in the train because I like to and because I like to annoy you. Now Laad Governor if you have finished tell me off can we go home?)
Arnav rolled his eyes at her antics but couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Slinging his arm around her shoulders he dropped a kiss on her temple and began to walk toward the car. It took her a few seconds but eventually she leaned her head against his chest and slipped her hand around his back, synchronising their gait. Parked a little distance from the station, the white SUV flashed twice and unlocked its doors. Khushi pulled on his arm preventing him from getting into the car.
"Kya hua?" (What happened?) he questioned concerned, cupping her face.
Khushi looked at the ground shyly and averted her gaze. Softly she asked..."Arnavji aapko Keeran kaisa laga?" (Arnavji what did you think of Keeran?)
Arnav made a face..."Keeran?"
"Woh baccha?" (That kid?) she prodded, pointing her finger back toward the train station, trying to get him to remember.
"Oh...theek tha. Kyun?" (Oh...he's alright. Why?)
"Woh ummm..." Khushi stuttered. This was a lot harder then she imagined it would be. Arnav nodded encouraging her to keep going. " Bacchon koh dekh ke...woh...humare matlab hai...woh... uff choddiye." (Looking at those kids...ummm...what I mean to say is...oh forget it!) She gave up irritated with herself.
"Khushi tum kya kehna cha thi ho?" (Khushi, what are you trying to say?) Arnav walked toward the boot.
Khushi bit her lip, closed her eyes and prayed to Devi Maiya for strength. "Arnavji humme baccha chaiye." (Arnavji, I want a child.) she blurted out.
Arnav's eyebrow shot up. This was not what he had been expecting after a long flight. Shoving her duffel bag into the car he came to stand infront of her. Her hands were still covering her eyes. Leaning against the door of his car he crossed his hands over his chest and waited to see how long it would take for her to open her eyes. Slowly but surely one hand shifted positions to reveal an emerald iris.
"Khushi tum abhi khud ek bacchi ho aur tumhe baccha chaiye?" (Khushi you yourself are still a child and you want one?)
Any previous diffidence evaporated and she flared up..."Hum bacche nahi hai! Hum 21 saal keh hai aur doh mahino meh 22 saal keh ho jayenge. Baccha banane meh nau mahine toh lag teh hi hai. Aur uss se pehle bhi kahin mahine lag teh hai. Toh jab tak humare baccha pehdha hoga hum 23 saal keh ho jayenge. Toh hum bacche kahan seh hue?" (I am so not a child! I am 21 and in a few months I will be 22. A child takes 9 months to be born and even before that it takes quite a few months. So by the time we will have a child I will be 23. So how does that make me a kid?)
Arnav smirked and pulled her against his chest. Leaning into her ear he whispered..."Naun mahine toh lag teh hi hai. Lekin usse pehle mujhe sirf kuch gantho ki zaroorat hai...mahino khi nahin." (You're right. It does take 9 months. But before that I won't need a few months...only a few hours)
As usual Khushi kept him on his toes. Instead on blushing she stepped back and folded her arms against her chest, raising an eyebrow of her own. "Kar keh dikhaye phir hi hum manege." (Prove it!)
He laughed at her gall. "Challenge kar rahi ho?" (Are you challenging me?)
"Aisa he kuch sumjho." (Something like that.)
He stared at her in wonderment for a while. "Toh aap mujhe baccha deh rahene hai ke nahi?" she persisted. (So are you giving me a child or not?)
Grabbing her arms, Arnav lightly bit her cheek. "Aaj raat hi doon ga. Chalein?" (I'll give you one tonight it's self. Shall we?)
This time she did blush.
******************************************************************************
Ok just an OS because I had to write one. Excuse my terrible attempts at Punjabi. I hope you enjoyed it. If people really want the English translations posted I will put them up but I think most people should be ok. Go to the blog to see the picture that inspired the OS...most of you will have already seen it.
www.skyfallsasak.blogpost.com.au
PART TWO PG 9
PART THREE PG 20 (SAY WHAT???)
PART FOUR PG 32
Health and Fitness
