12. OS 20. The Temperamental Tyrant (Part 12)

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Part 12

Khushi knocked on the door of her buaji’s home at night.

“Aaawat he, Nandkisore!” buaji called out. “Who is this banging on the door at midnight?

She unlatched the door and stared open-mouthed at Khushi.

“Khussi? Tum? What are you doing here at midnight?” She looked out at the almost deserted road. “You travelled alone, Nandkisore?” She clutched her heart.

Khushi abandoned her bag and hugged her buaji as tight as she could.

Tears that she had been holding back till then, flowed copiously down her face.

Madhumati held her weeping niece close, terrible thoughts filling her mind.

“Suno, Khussi, kono oonch neech to naahi hui na?” she asked, her heart thumping.

Khushi shook her head in the negative in between sobbing.

Madhumati took a deep breath of relief.

“Ab chodo mujhe, Nandkisore,” she said, setting the girl aside. “Bring your bag in, sit down and tell me what is wrong.”

Khushi obeyed. Sitting by her buaji on the sofa in the living room, under the benevolent gaze of Devi Maiyya, she recounted the events of that night.

Madhumati swelled up in righteous indignation. “How dare that nani accuse you, Madhumati Gupta’s niece, hamri Sasi babua’s daughter of trying to entice a boy? Is this our sanskaar, Nandkisore? Is this the way we marry off our daughters? We would have never sent you to work in a house if you hadn’t insisted and Sasi babua weren’t so sick.” She turned to look at Khushi. “You are my Sanka Devi, my Parmeswari, my Bhooleswari Devi. But no one, no one can accuse you of trying to attract men. You may drive them away with your antics, but never lure them to their doom.”

Khushi dried her tears.

“Khussi, call Happy Singh now. Ask him to bring his auto. I will go now to that nani and give her a piece of my mind. How dare she insult my niece, Nandkisore?” buaji fumed.

“No, buaji, don’t,” Khushi begged. “Let it be. Chodiye.”

“Kaisen chode hum, Nandkisore?” buaji asked. “She insulted you, she insulted our whole family.”

“What is the use, buaji?” Khushi asked. “How can I prove my innocence? There is no proof,” Khushi wept. “How can I make her understand that I never....”

Buaji looked at the sobbing girl. After a moment, she said, “Khussi, go to bed. It is very late. Kal savere dekhenge. Your buaji will find a solution to this problem, Nandkisore.”

Khushi nodded.

One hour later, Madhumati entered Khushi’s bedroom.

She was asleep, her cheeks still stained by tears.

Madhumati pulled the blankets up to her neck and smoothed her hair back from her forehead. It was a cold night.

How could a poor, helpless girl prove her innocence against an accusation made by a rich, elderly woman? Especially in such a case when proof couldn’t be produced?

Buaji sighed. Dishonour was a stain that could never be rubbed out.

                                                           ***

Arnav stood in the living room and shouted, “Khushi!”

Akash stood up from the chair he had been sitting on in his parents’ room. “That sound like bhai,” he murmured. “Why is he shouting?”

Mami looked at mamaji, apprehensive.

“Let ujj go downs,” she said. “Saasumma must have said something for hamre Arnav bitwaa to pheel angry, angrier, angriest.”

All three of them rushed down to hear Arnav shouting for Khushi.

“Bhy ijj he asking for Khussi, hello hi bye bye?” mami asked, perplexed. “Bhat did she do?”

“Maybe she disobeyed him,” mama said softly. “You know Arnav bitwaa’s anger.”

Akash looked at Arnav’s pale face, wondering what that slip of a girl had done to merit so much aggression.

“Khushi, where are you?” Arnav shouted.

HP peeked into the room.

“HP,” Akash asked softly, “where is Khushi?”

“Missing, Akash bitwaa,” HP said quietly.

“Missingwaa?” mami asked. “Ijj she a mojri to go missingwaa?”

Anjali and nani joined them, Anjali, unaware and nani, resolute.

Mama asked, “Arnav bitwaa, why are you calling Khussi? Why did HP say that she is missing?”

“Because she is missing, mama,” Arnav said, his ironic gaze resting on nani. “Her bed hasn’t been slept in.” Anger and fear and an acute sense of loss ate into him.

Anjali gasped. She turned to look at nani with fear in her eyes. Had nani killed Khushi and buried her in the flowerbed?

“She didn’t sleep here last night?” mama asked thoughtfully. “She served dinner, didn’t she? She must have left soon after that. Lekin raat mein..ek ladki akeli... Bitwaa, I think we should call the police. This city is not safe for girls at night.”

“Good idea,” Arnav said, his accusing eyes on nani. ‘Control, control,’ he told himself. Losing his temper would do only harm. And the stakes were too high here. “Call the police, mama,” he said.

Nani drew in a deep breath.

Mama moved towards the phone.

“Manohar, stop,” nani ordered.

Manohar halted, looking curiously at his mother. His hand hovered above the phone receiver.

Anjali clutched her heart, sure that nani had killed Khushi.

“There is no need to call the police,” nani declared. “Khussi went to her house of her own free will.”

Arnav smiled sardonically, fury rising like a wave in him.

Mama asked, “She went home at night? Kaa hua, amma? Was there a family emergency?”

“How should I know?” nani asked furiously. “I am not the caretaker of every little maid in Delhi and Lucknow.”

Mami looked away. Mama fell silent.

Akash clenched his fist. He swallowed his anger and asked Arnav, “Bhai, shouldn’t we call her and make sure she is fine?”

Arnav nodded tightly and motioned towards the phone.

Akash looked at HP.

HP hobbled to his room and brought back a piece of paper with Khushi’s phone number.

Arnav stood there, fists clenched as Akash called Khushi. His heartbeat picked up speed.

She answered.

“Khushi, this is Akash Singh Raizada. We just wanted to make sure that you reached home safe.”

“I am fine,” she replied.

Arnav held out his hand for the receiver.

Akash relinquished it.

Nani pursed her lips.

“Khushi?” Arnav asked, his voice shaking slightly.

There was a moment’s silence. Then she said, “Arnavji?”

The name was sweet music to his ears. “Yes,” he replied. “Why did you leave RM?”

Nani’s eyes widened.

A moment of silence later, Khushi said, “I am fine, Arnavji. Aap apna khayal rakhiyega.”

He was not in the mood to be fobbed off with such an answer. “I asked, why did you leave RM? That too at the dead of night. Tumhe kuch ho jata to?” he thundered.

She smiled at his concern.

He could hear her smile in her voice as she said, “I am safe. Aap pareshan mat hoyiye.”

“Why did you leave RM?” he asked again, striving for patience. “Answer me, Khushi, dammit!”

She tried to keep her tears at bay as she replied, “It was time to leave. My buaji...I wanted to be with her.”

Arnav swallowed hard. He asked, “Really, Khushi?”

She couldn’t lie any longer. “Hum...hum chalte hein, Arnavji. Aap sahi wakt par dawayi leejiyega. Please eat on time and take care of yourself.”

She cut the call.

Arnav lowered his hand holding the receiver, but stayed lost in thought.

Akash took it from his hand and replaced it.

“What did Khushi say, Chotey?” Anjali asked.

“That she wanted to be with her buaji,” Arnav replied, a frown on his face.

“Hein?” mami asked. “If she wanted to see her buaji, she could have gone savere savere. Bhy run away like a thiefwaa at night?”

“HP!” Arnav called.

“Yes, Arnav bhaiyya?” he asked.

“What did Khushi do after serving us dinner?” he asked.

“We cleared up. Then...then...” he hesitated.

“Then?” Arnav was merciless, his eyes sharp and focused.

“Naniji asked me to summon Khushi,” HP admitted.

Anjali gasped.

Mami turned to look at nani, surprise in her painted eyes.

Arnav smiled without humour.

“Then?” he asked.

“Khushi went to naniji’s room. That’s all I know,” HP revealed.

All eyes turned to nani and then towards Arnav.

“So, nani, why did you want to see Khushi?” Arnav asked, his voice quite and menacing.