22. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 22)

Part 22

Her throat was dry. Not entirely due to the hot weather, she thought. The culprit stood by jiju, staring at her as though he could see through her.

Hmmppffff... She would deal with him later, she decided.

Khushi looked longingly at the glasses of water arranged artistically on a silver tray near her and then at her hands filled with wet mehendi. 'Hey Devi Maiyya, why couldn't you make me thirsty before I showed my hand to the mehendi lady? How will I drink water now?' she asked crossly.

ASR watched her with eagle eyes.

Khushi looked around. Maybe she could find somebody who was free to help her.

Payal was looking at Akash's name written on her palm and blushing. Akash was looking at her as though she were the eight wonder of the world and he a traveller.

Khushi grimaced. Did love make one a nikamma? What was this blushing and preening and becoming self-conscious just because a man was looking at you? If it were golgappe, she could understand the concept. But for a mere man.....The uncomfortable picture of her panicking when jiji's jetji came close to her flashed through her mind and flustered her.

One hazel eye glanced at him for a second and quickly moved away. His molten chocolate eyes were still on her.

Paani. She needed water. Tatkal prabhav se. Immediately.

She looked around with wide eyes. HP was walking towards the kitchen.

Khushi jumped up and making her way through the ladies seated on mattresses on the floor, reached the kitchen.

"Hari Prakashji," she called.

"Khushiji, how can I help you?" HP asked, smiling.

"Water. A glass of water," she gasped, feeling like a fish left to die on dry land.

HP obligingly poured out a glass of water. As he was about to hand it over to Khushi, mami's call sounded.

"HP! Jaldi aa jao. Mami needjj your helpwaa," she called.

HP jumped.

"Aap jaiye," Khushi smiled.

HP left.

Khushi looked at the glass of water on the kitchen counter. She looked at her hands.

How could she drink it without her hands?

Maybe if she bent down and sipped from it? Or licked it like a dog?

"Hey Devi Maiyya!" Khushi grumbled. "This is too much! I am going to wash off this mehendi."

Devi Maiyya apparently trembled at this threat.

A hand appeared from behind her and took the glass of water.

"Aww," Khushi gasped and turned around to shout at the thief, only to stand open-mouthed and silent at the sight of the Rakshas holding the glass.

"You wanted water?" he asked, his voice mellow.

Khushi turned her head away.

He held out the glass.

Khushi looked at it and at him. What was he going to do with it? She didn't trust him one bit.

Arnav took a step closer to her.

Khushi stepped back.

He took one more step towards her and before she could move back, he took the glass to her lips.

He watched as her lips parted and took a sip of the water.

He swallowed hard.

Her eyes stayed on his as she drank deep.

When she was done, he set the glass aside and made to leave.

"Sh..shukriya," she whispered.

He halted, nodded and left the kitchen.

21. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 21)

Part 21


Arnav parked the car before his house.

Khushi made to get out.

"Wait," he said brusquely.

Khushi looked up at the heavens situated beyond the roof of the car. What now? she wondered.

Arnav left the vehicle, walked up to her side and opened the door for her, all chivalry and manners.

Her eyes widened. Ab kya hua inhe? she wondered. Bade tameez and all after kicking her door and breaking her poor bed!

She looked at him, the gentleman version of Laad Governor.

His face was impassive as he stood still, feeling her incredulous eyes on him.

She alighted from the vehicle at great speed.

As he shut the door and turned to escort her into his house like an honoured guest, he found her missing.

His searching eyes saw her march towards the entrance of his house without waiting for him.

He clenched his fists. It was a close call between wanting to strangle her and wanting to throw her into his car and take off for places new.

Grinding his teeth in exasperation at her non-cooperation, he marched after her.


By the time he entered his house, he found his whole family greeting her happily and inviting her to join them in applying mehendi.

Khushi sat down by Payal and began flipping through the pages of books of mehendi design, very aware of hot glares directed at her by a very cross and grouchy Laad Governor standing by Akash jiju.



                                                                     ***



Khushi sat quietly by Payal as a lady drew intricate designs with mehendi on her jiji's hands and legs.

"Khussi, which desijjn hab you selected?" mami asked, excited. "Try mamijj desijjn of peacocks."

Khushi smiled without trying to reply. Could she draw Tom and Jerry on her palms? she wondered.

Tom and Jerry were more suitable for her than peacocks, ASR mused crossly. They suited her mental age and her temperament.

"Khussi, take this. It will suit your hands," Garima suggested, pushing an open book into her hands.

"Ji," she agreed with a smile. How soon could she go home? Her skin felt as though a hundred heat balls had struck her, all thrown at her by molten chocolate eyes.

Soon the mehendi lady finished adorning her hands with a simple but beautiful design and Khushi sat back to admire her artistry.

Garima said, "Don't stain your dress, Khussi."

ASR looked at Khushi with intent eyes. The short sleeves revealing the long, creamy length of her arms, the low neck, the flowing skirt of the top and the pink dupatta....He was mesmerised.

Khushi shuddered, feeling his hot eyes on her. Was there no end to the wedding festivities? she thought. 'He Devi Maiyya, please finish the haldi fast. I don't think I can survive this torture for long!' she begged.

20. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 20)

Part 20


 He banged on the shut bedroom door like a mad man, forgetting that he was cool ASR for a moment.

"Open the door, Khushi Kumari Gupta!" he yelled.

"No, I won't," she yelled right back, secure in her room. There was no way he could enter her bedroom past the locked door.

"You lied to your family," he fumed. "You lied about your tummy ache."

Khushi blew away strands of hair that had fallen on her cheek by pursing her lips. Placing her hands on her hips and throwing her head back in challenge, she said, "My tummy is mine. So is its ache. Aap ghar jaayiye."

"How dare you!" he yelled, furious.

Khushi hit her head with her hand. "You are jiji's jetji. Isliye hum aapko seh rahe hein. Nahi tho I would have shouted at you and thrown you out."


That was the last straw on the ASR camel's broad back.

"You and whose army?" he shouted even as he tried to kick the door down.

Khushi jumped. Was he kicking the door?

"Pagal he aap?" she asked, her eyes bewildered. Why had her simple action of avoiding a function at his home turned him from a sane businessman into a mad caveman?

ASR was too busy trying to knock down the door to answer.

Khushi looked at the poor door that was straining to stay shut against her jiji's jetji's pagalpan. What would buaji say when she returned home and found the door broken?

Khushi clutched her heart in panic.

Buaji's belan was more terrifying that the insane man on the other side of the wooden door.

Khushi gulped, trying to calm herself. 'There is no other way, Khussi,' she told herself. 'Open the door and face that rakshas' madness.'

ASR made a running jump to attack the door just as Khushi threw open the door and stepped back.

He fell inside the room and unable to stop the momentum, landed flat on her bed, bringing down the mosquito cover and the bed posts. Golden stars and green parrots fell on his head.

"What the," he muttered, getting the gold and green mobiles off his luscious hair and sitting up.

"You mad man!" Khushi thundered. "What have you done to my bed? What will I tell buaji when she gets back home? How can I explain why my bed is broken and the door is battered?"

ASR sat in Khushi's bed, surveying the damage he had caused. The room looked as though a full herd of bulls had run over it at will. Had he really done this? He, Arnav Singh Raizada?

Khushi clutched her head.

"He Devi Maiyya, what will I tell buaji?" Khushi lamented. "She will think jiji is going to marry into a mad family, that jiji's jetji belongs to Agra pagalkhana."

ASR clenched his jaw in anger. Who did this girl think she was to insult ASR?

"Poor jiji!" Khushi continued on her merry way. "The flower of her happiness will wilt even before it has bloomed."

ASR frowned. Flower? He hadn't destroyed any flowers. He looked around to make sure he hadn't knocked down a vase.

"Her pyaar ki kali was on the verge of blooming and then this rakshas came and plucked it and left it to die," Khushi went on with her drama.

ASR almost shuddered at the melodrama.

"Poor Akash jiju. Jiji and Jiju must have been so happy today at their mehendi! But it is to be short-lived. When buaji sees the condition of this house, she will cancel the wedding. Poor jiju will long for his Payalji and poor jiji will long for her Akashji. And never the twain shall marry!" Khushi cried. "It is all your fault," she told him to his face.

"It is your fault," he retorted. His heart quailed at the thought of Akash and Payal. Would buaji really cancel the wedding?

"This is my house. You came here. You almost destroyed my bedroom door. You broke my bed. And you are saying it is my fault?" Khushi shot right back. "Agar hum aapke ghar aate and if I broke down your bedroom door and your bed, then it would have been my fault. Devi Maiyya knows I never refuse to accept my guilt. But here I am innocent. Here the bed is mine. The house is mine. The door is mine. So it is your fault."

ASR looked at the door and the bed.


Khushi's hazel eyes slowly filled with tears.

As he watched, one drop trailed down her alabaster cheek.

The fight died within him. He stood there, hurt, lost, defeated, scared, speechless.

Khushi sniffed. "Poor jiji and jiju...hamare kaaran..."

ASR blinked. He was ASR and ASR could make impossible things happen. He had forgotten that fact for a moment.

He pulled out his phone and told her gruffly, "Get dressed."

"Ji?" she asked, perplexed.

"I will make sure everything is fine when buaji returns," he promised. "But the workers will need time. We need to extend the mehendi and keep your family at my house a couple of hours longer. Get dressed."

Khushi nodded and ran to her wardrobe to pull out an anarkali.

ASR quickly phoned a home maintenance company and offered them an indecent amount of money to get the repairs done in two hours.

Ten minutes later, Aman was overseeing the repairs at her home and ASR was driving Khushi to his house for the mehendi.

He turned his head to look at her pensive face.

She was with him, sitting by his side, in his car. He blinked. Had he really tried to get to her by breaking her door? He shook his head. What had gotten into him? ASR never did things like that.

He looked at the slim fingers of her hands resting on her lap.

There was no mehendi on them.

He looked straight at the road ahead. It was Payal's mehendi. Khushi was her sister. She had to have mehendi on her hands.

He nodded.

That's why, he decided. That's why he was taking her home.

19. OS 18. Too tempting to Resist (Part 19)

Part 19

Khushi heard the repeated bangs on the door and frowned in annoyance.

Kamla chachi had to come now to borrow sugar or milk or the hundred things she needed to borrow on a daily basis?

She looked longingly at the screen. She and Tom and Jerry had been having so much fun. And now Kamla chachi had to come and spoil it?

Her eyes flew open.

What if Kamla chachi decided to stay and talk?

No way. No way was she missing the cartoon for anyone!

Khushi leaped off the chair and ran to the kitchen. She filled a katori with sugar and another with milk and ran to the door.

As she neared the door, there was a series of loud bangs from the other side.

“Hum aawat he, chachiji,” she called, trying to balance the two katoris in her hand and open the door at the same time.

The latch fell open, luckily for her, or she thought.

“Leejiye, chachiji,” she said, holding out the two katoris and blocking the doorway so that chachiji didn’t enter her house to murder her with gossip for the next two hours.

The tall man standing there had nothing in similar with the short, plump, elderly lady from her neighbourhood.

Khushi’s eyes looked into furious, molten chocolate orbs. Her hold on the katoris slipped as her hands trembled like a tuning fork struck against  a surface.

Sugar and milk fell on polished, black, hand-crafted designer shoes.

“What the!” came the familiar expletive.

“S—sugar and m—milk,” she whispered.

ASR didn’t bother to reply to that. He pushed his way into the house like a bulldozer, making Khushi scamper back to avoid being flattened by him.

Wind shut the door behind him, trapping them in the cosy living room.

“You lied to your family,” he fumed.

Khushi swallowed. It was her family. She had every right to lie to them. It was none of his business.

“You missed Payal’s mehendi ,” he accused.

Payal was her jiji. If she wanted to miss her mehendi, she would. How was it his problem? No sooner did the thought enter her head, she blurted it out.

Right before her eyes, his anger reached saatve aasman.

He caught hold of her arm and twisting it behind her back, pulled her close.

“You are a coward, Khushi Kumari Gupta,” he slammed her. “You lied to your family and stayed back home to avoid me.”

Khushi swallowed. How did he know that?

He pulled her closer still, anger radiating from him in heat waves and singeing her skin.

“Nahi,” she cried at the late date. “I am not a coward and I don’t do things to avoid you!”

His lips twisted in a smirk even as his eyes heaped burning coals on her head. Without wasting time, he began to tug her towards the door.

“Kya kar rahe ho aap?” she asked.

“Taking you home,” he grunted.

“I don’t want to go with you,” she protested.

He didn’t bother replying. He pulled open the door.

Khushi twisted her arm out of his hold and ran back into the house.

He followed, his eyes lit with a fire from within.

Tom and Jerry chased each other on the TV screen.