20. OS 19. His Elusive Lover (Part 20)

Part 20

Khushi sat in her room, not wanting to get involved in the feverish discussion about what to do with all the money the family had in the bank after the sale of Gomti Sadan. Even then she could hear snatches of the conversation.

“The buyer paid every rupee we asked. He didn’t even bargain. His only condition was that it happen immediately, jiji,” Garima said in wonder for the hundredth time.

“Nandkisore has been kind to us,” buaji remarked. “We can see to Sasi babua’s treatment.”

“I can see to Satwik Mishtan Bhandar and pay our debts,” Sasi said slowly.

“Yes,” Garima concurred. “And we can marry off the girls in style. Suniye, shall we invite all our relations and friends in Lucknow to come to Delhi for the weddings? We will have to arrange accommodation for them.”

Buaji agreed. “We don’t have any other daughter in the family to marry off once we conduct Payaliya and Khussi’s ssadi, woh bhi to brothers in one mandap on one day. Invite all of them, Nandkisore. Naahi to we will have to listen to complaints all our lives.”

“We can now buy new jewellery for Payaliya, jiji,” Garima discovered.

“Yes, let Khussi keep her amma’s ornaments, Nandkisore,” buaji declared.

Garima lowered her voice, “I hope Khussi doesn’t create any problems today evening when the boys and their family come, jiji.”

Buaji nodded. “Sasi babua, talk to her. Ask her to consider her jiji’s future,” she urged.

Sasi demurred. “Khussi has to like the boy. How can she marry a boy she doesn’t like?” he asked slowly.

Khushi placed the pillow over her ears and buried herself under the covers.

Her peace was to be disturbed a few minutes later.

“Khussi,” buaji called, banging on the door. “A boy has come to see you.”

Khushi jumped up in bed. The boy was supposed to come in the evening, wasn’t he? What was he doing here now?

Cursing all boys, she crawled out of bed and throwing her dupatta around her neck, she marched to the door, pulled it open and marched out to do battle.

She stopped short when she saw a very young boy standing at the entrance to her house. He looked like a teenager.

This was the boy who wanted to marry her?

Before she could open her mouth to ask him a few pertinent questions related to his age and whether his parents knew he wasn’t at home, the boy stumped her with, “A delivery for Ms. Khushi Kumari Gupta.”

Soon she was in her room with a parcel in her hands.

“Hey Devi Maiyya, yeh ho kya raha he?” she asked out aloud. “Even Khushi Kumari Gupta is getting gifts?” She tore open the brown cover to see a brightly coloured box. “One more box?” she asked. She opened the box to be stunned into silence.

Inside was a pair of jooti, pastel pink in colour, studded with pearls and stones and embellished with zari work. She could only stare at the most beautiful shoes she had ever seen.

The long moment of silent gushing over, she looked at the address on the parcel to make sure it was for her and not for some other lucky girl.

It was for her. It was really for her.

Khushi blinked, unable to take in the reality of receiving such a gorgeous gift. At this late date, she wondered who had sent it.

She began to burrow in the box for a note and finally found it.

Khushi,

For hitting Shyam with your shoe,

A

That was all it said.

Khushi hugged the shoes to her chest and burst out crying. Hot tears wet the slip of paper as she kissed it repeatedly. His hand had touched it; his fingers had written her name. He had thought of her. That was enough to make them precious for her.