22. OS 19. His Elusive Lover (Part 22)

20 Jan 2018, noon

Darlings, with your generosity, we raised Rs.10,000. Other well-wishers raised another 10,000. The amount required has been collected. Now Girija and her husband will not lose their home.

Please don't send me more than the cost of the book now.

Thanks a million to Soumya, Alpana, Rajasri, Supriya, Rash, Nancy and Nirmala for your generous contribution.

Thanks to Deviyanee, Ramya, Fermeen, Sadia, Suja, Saman and Stories 1408 for buying the book.

Love,
Smita

Heartfelt gratitude to Hetal, Girija and Meemou for contributing to the Girija fund. Your generous contributions have been paid into her account.

Thanks to Jaya, Sravya and Parvathi for buying the book.

Thanks to Anju, Sudha, Maya, Sahasranju, Mansi and Avan for purchasing Sujatha.


Paid in Rs 7,000 solely due to Meemou and Sudha's generosity. May God bless all of you.

Darlings, Rashmi (IF: rulama) has started a new travel blog with photos and details of her wide and varied travels. Check out the fabulous blog and enjoy the beauties of Sikkim and other places with her. Don't forget to leave comments showing your love.

urdawnrays.blogspot.in


http://urdawnrays.blogspot.in/




We have reached the last part of  His Elusive Lover, which will be posted before evening today.

I will be taking a short break of a couple of weeks to write another story that has been nagging me, asking to be written.

In the meantime, I would like you to purchase SUJATHA, a story I wrote many months ago. The cost is the same as A Royal Bride. The netbanking and PayPal details are as given in Part 1 of The Handpicked Bride on the old blog.

Those using PayPal are requested to pay in $5.

email id: smita.ramachandran@gmail.com

Those transferring money to my bank account are requested to pay Rs.300.

Name: Smita Ramachandran

Bank: HDFC Bank Ltd

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Vazhuthacaud, Trivandrum 695014, Kerala, India

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Then contact me via email. Those preferring net transfers, please include your transaction number in the mail. I will send you a copy of the story.

SUJATHA tells the tale of an independent but wounded girl who has a love-hate relationship with Madhavan, my adorable hero with a man bun.

Kindly complete your purchase by the end of February, 2018.

Part 22

Arnav led Khushi out of her room to the living room where the two families were sitting, stunned and bemused.

“I am taking Khushi with me to my house now. We will be getting married tomorrow at 7am. You are welcome to attend it,” Arnav announced, handing over a card with his home address to Sasi Gupta. He turned to look at buaji and Garima. “Khushi has taken only her mother’s jewels, a document and her parents’ photo from your house.”

“Hum chalte hein, babuji, amma, buaji, jiji,” Khushi bid them farewell, hands folded. “I will never forget that you took me in when I had no one. I am sorry I couldn’t oblige you in marrying a boy you wanted me to. How could I do that when I want to spend my life with Arnavji?”

Buaji sniffed. Garima flushed with anger.

Payal and babuji smiled at her.

“Khussi, hamesha khuss rehna, bitiya,” babuji said.

“Apna khayal rakhna, Khussi,” Payal said tearfully. “Phoone karna hamein.”

Khushi hugged Payal and took her father’s blessings. When she went to touch Garima and buaji’s feet, they turned away in anger.

“Khushi, chalein?” Arnav asked.

“Ji,” she replied, drying her wet cheeks.

Arnav looked directly into Sasi’s eyes and said, “I will take care of Khushi. She will never want for anything.”

Sasi nodded.    

               

He led Khushi to the door.

At the doorway, he paused, turned around and said to the Guptas, “It is better you know this. I purchased Gomti Sadan.”

The Guptas stared at him, their eyes like saucers and their jaws on the ground. But more shock was yet to come.

“I bought it for Khushi. Now the house is in her name. Khushi Kumari Gupta owns Gomti Sadan,” he stated.

Leaving a shell-shocked audience behind, he took Khushi’s hand and led her to his car.

                                                              ***

He opened the car door for her.

As she took her seat, he saw her feet in the jooti he had sent her.

“They look beautiful when you wear them,” he whispered, touching a pearl on the jooti.

“Shukriya,” Khushi murmured, feeling overwhelmed and shy.

He lifted her chin with one finger and looking into her hazel eyes, he said, “No one has fought my battles for me. Ever. No one has defended me, except you.”

He took hold of her hand and kissed her palm.

Her breath hitched at his touch.

He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out the earring she had been holding in her hand when he had called her. Slowly he pushed the stem of the ornament into the piercing in her ear and fastened it.

Her eyes were shut and she was breathing heavily.

He stayed still, his eyes taking in her beauty.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. 

                                

“Shall we go to your house?” Arnav asked softly.

She looked at him for a long moment and then nodded, tears sprouting in her eyes.

                                                                ***

They arrived to a rapturous welcome by the Raizadas. Only Anjali was absent from the party, but no one minded that.

Nani was at the door, ready to welcome the new bahu.

“Khussi bitiya,” she exclaimed as she saw Khushi being escorted out of the car by Arnav.

Mami came running with a thali holding a lit lamp, sindoor, flowers and rice.

“Bhere ijj hamri bahuriya?” she asked, thrusting the thali into nani’s hands. 

She peeked over nani’s shoulders and a beatific smile spread over her face as she saw Arnav and Khushi walking towards them.

“Hello hi bye bye! Hamre Arnav bitwaa and hamri Khussi! Eben Aishwarya Roy and her husband bill be jealous of ujj bhen they see our couples,” mami declared.

“Nani,” Arnav said, his cheeks flushed, “Here is your bahu.”

“Haiyye!  Hamre Arnav bitwaa ijj blushing like he used his mami’s blush on his facewaa,” mami chortled.

All laughed.

Nani did aarti of Arnav and Khushi and both of them touched her feet and took her blessings. She hugged and kissed them on their foreheads.

Mama hugged them both.

So did mami, crushing Arnav in her arms as she wept all over his shoulder, leaving streaks of makeup on his coat.

“Ab bas bhi karo, Mano,” mama teased her. “Keep some tears for the wedding too.”

Akash hugged his bhai and touched his bhabi’s feet.

“Beta,” mama told Khushi, “we are your own family. Don’t hesitate to ask us if you want anything. It is your right. Haq se mango.”

Khushi couldn’t control her tears.

“Rote nahi, beta,” mama consoled her. “Arnav bitwaa, don't let our bitiya cry.”

                                                                   ***              

Dinner was fun.

After many days, the Raizadas were free to be happy.

They embarrassed Arnav by telling exaggerated tales of his childhood pranks to Khushi.

He sat there, his eyes filled with laughter, his soul drenched in happiness, his heart light with hope.

Khushi’s face was one big smile as the whole family roasted Arnav, using the rare chance they had gotten to get back at him.

Anjali sat silently at the dinner table and answered in monosyllables when her family tried to interest and involve her in the conversation.

Khushi had felt bad when she had seen Anjali’s morose face when the family had converged in the dining room for dinner. Her attempt to step back and hide behind Arnav had been foiled by him who had taken her hand and tugged her to stand by him.

He had told Anjali, “Di, I have brought Khushi home. We will be getting married tomorrow morning at seven.”

Khushi’s heart had almost stopped in fear.

But all Anjali had done was nod.

“I have made arrangements for your cruise. The nurse will be accompanying you,” he had added.

Anjali had only nodded.

Khushi stole a glance at the stone-faced Anjali who was spooning food into her mouth.

“She will be fine,” Arnav said under his breath. “Don’t worry about her.”

Mami said loudly, “Khussi, we selected ten shadi ka joda for you. You pick one. Iph you don’t like hamre choicewaa, we bill call Ram Lal. He bill bring more joda phor you.”

“I will take one from the ten you have selected, mamiji,” Khushi said with a smile.

“My daughter, Ratna’s jewellery is with Chotey in his locker. Khussi bitiya, they belong to you now,” nani said.

Anjali glared at nani, her eyes steely.

Nani continued, “Anjali bitiya was given her share when she got married. Now all that remains belongs to you, Ratna’s bahuriya.”

Anjali looked down at her plate as the others enthused about the wedding arrangements.

                                                                    ***

Khushi went to her old room through the door opening from the corridor. The connecting door was shut and she was too shy to try and open it.

Smiling faintly at the memory of the jokes mami had cracked while they sat deciding on the joda and the jewellery, she showered and changed into a pair of pink nightclothes she found in the wardrobe.

She then got into bed, making sure that she could see the sliver of light at the bottom of the connecting door.

A knock sounded on the connecting door.

“Come in,” she called, her voice shaking.

Arnav opened the door and stood in the doorway looking at the enchanting picture she made, curled up in bed.

“Tomorrow night, you will be with me in my room, Khushi,” he reminded her, his eyes naughty.

Khushi blushed.

He walked towards her bed.

She sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest.

He sat down by her.

“Arnavji,” she began.

“Hhmm?” he asked, his eyes on her lovely eyes and tempting lips.

“I am scared of darkness,” she confessed. “I used to sleep looking at the light from your room.” She pointed at the gap between the door and the floor. “My parents died at night in a car accident.”

He swallowed past the lump of pain in his throat.

“I am scared of speed,” she admitted. “And I am scared of sleeping alone. I managed to do it last time because I knew you were in the next room. I am telling you all these things so that you can change your mind if you want to. Matlab, you don’t have to marry me.”

Arnav struggled to smile. He said, “On the contrary, I have to marry you now.”

“Ji?” she asked, confused.

“I can’t let you sleep alone, can I?” he asked, running a gentle finger down her cheek.

She blushed.

“I will make sure that the night lamp is on in our room all night,” he said. “I promise not to drive fast. I also promise never to leave you alone at night and to keep you so busy all night that you have no time to be scared.”

Khushi gasped, her face as red as a tomato. Finally she said, “You...Arnavji...you are saying such things...matlab, I never thought...” She lowered her flushed face.

Arnav smirked. “Well, I never had a bride before,” he said.

“Amanji would be so shocked,” Khushi said in wonder.

“He would be,” Arnav conceded, trying hard to keep a straight face. “I have never spoken to him like this.”

Khushi had to laugh. “You are so naughty!” she exclaimed.

He quickly bent his head and stole a kiss from her, his warm, hard lips on her cheek.

Her hand went to cover her rosy cheek and her lashes fell to cover her bashful eyes.

“I love you, Khushi,” he whispered, holding her hand. “More than my life. I never thought a girl like you would come into my life.”

Khushi blushed again, but raised her eyes to meet his. “Hum bhi...hum bhi aap se bahut prem karte hein,” she confessed, her voice low and shaky.

His hold on her hand tightened.

“Khushi, I am sorry for bringing you her to trap Shyam,” he said, his eyes serious and remorseful. “I regret that more than I regret anything else in my life.”

Khushi smiled at him. “If you hadn’t hatched that plan, I wouldn’t have gotten to spend time with you,” she reminded him.

The guilt remained in his heart. He would make up for his mistake every day of their lives together, he promised her silently.

Khushi looked at the strain on his face. She knew that he was beating himself up about his mistake.

She leaned forward and kissed him on his lean cheek.

Shock and pleasure drove the guilt from his mind.

“Khushi!” he teased. “You are so shameless! Kissing your groom, are you? And that too before shaadi?”

Khushi blushed furiously, but managed to say, “He is my groom. I can do whatever I want to.”

“Really?” he teased. “What else do you want to do to me?”

“Aap jaake so jayiye,” Khushi begged, hiding her red face in her blanket.

“On one condition,” he stated.

“Kya?” she asked.

“Leave the door open so that I can see you,” he demanded.

“Ji,” she agreed.

They spent the night looking at each other, lying in their respective beds.

Soon it dawned, the sun bringing with it their wedding day.

The Raizadas gathered around her and Arnav, helping them to dress. Jokes at their expense were cracked at regular intervals. They were hugged to an inch of their lives and literally led into the mandap by their family.

The Guptas sat with the guests, staring at the grandeur of the house with wide eyes and open mouths.

Sasi Gupta did kanyadaan and soon the wedding was over.

The new bride had a designer diamond mangalsutra and red sindoor in her maang and was hugged by the Raizadas till she felt her ribs would collapse.

Arnav had a smile on his face that Aman had never seen before.


As Aman stood on the sidelines enjoying ASR’s happiness, Khushi came to him and quickly touched his feet, taking his blessings.

Aman whispered, scandalised, “Khushiji, you are my boss’ wife. You shouldn’t touch my feet.”

“You are my bhaiyya first and Arnavji’s employee next,” Khushi asserted.

Before Aman could remonstrate, Arnav came to him and hugged him tight, murmuring, “Thanks, Aman,” in his ear.

Khushi beamed.

Buaji and Garima managed to get hold of Khushi.

“Khussi, you have selected a very rich boy,” Garima said in awe.

Khushi said nothing.

“You have everything now, including our house, Nandkisore,” buaji said. “Now show some kindness to Payaliya, your jiji. Let her marry from Gomti Sadan.”

Before Khushi could respond, buaji saw Arnav walking towards them.

“Hum chalte hein, Nandkisore,” she said, leaving, dragging Garima with her.

“What did they want?” Arnav asked directly.

“To have jiji’s wedding at Gomti Sadan,” she replied honestly.

He smiled at her, his eyes full of love. “The one benefit of having an akdoo, short-tempered, bulldozer of a husband who shouts at people is that you needn’t take the responsibility or the blame. If you wish to refuse, tell them that I wouldn’t approve. They will never dare to approach me.”

Khushi looked cutely cross as she said, “You are not akdoo. Nor are you a bulldozer. You used to be short-tempered, but aren’t now. Don’t put yourself down. I won’t tolerate it, hum kahe dete hein.”

In the presence of his delighted family and all the slack-jawed guests, Akhdoo Singh Raizada kissed Khushi Kumari Gupta a.k.a the lion tamer on her cheek.

The End