8. OS 20. The Temperamental Tyrant (Part 8)

Part 8

“Take one more poori, Sanka Devi,” buaji insisted, placing one poori on her plate.

Khushi looked at it with little interest.

“Kaa hua, Nandkisore?” buaji asked, her eyes wide in shock. “The biggest Chatori in the world doesn’t want an extra poori?”

Khushi looked at the clock. It was time for Arnavji’s lunch. ‘I hope he eats well,’ she thought. ‘Nahi to he will faint again.’

“Khussi!” buaji hollered.

“Ji, buaji?” she asked, startled. “Kya hua?”

“Wahi poochath he hum, Nandkisore,” buaji said in exasperation. “What is wrong?”

Khushi shook her head. “Nothing, buaji,” she insisted. “I was just thinking about...about work.”

Buaji rolled her eyes. “Thinking about work? What is there to think about work? After all, what kind of work are you doing? Are you working in an office? Are you a collector? Nahi na? All you are doing is making roti and sweeping floors. What is there to think about these, Nandkisore?”

Khushi looked down at her plate and forbore to comment.

“This girl! She will drive my Sasi babua gray before time, Nandkisore. Look at your jiji, Parmeswari. How sanskaari she is! How polite! How sensible! She will never bring dishonour to our family,” Buaji claimed. “Boys will stand in line to marry her.”

Khushi smiled. “And boys will run away if they have to marry me,” she stated. “Madhumati Gupta will have to go about the streets of Lucknow begging boys to marry her sanki niece.” Her eyes twinkled.

“Hhmmpppffff,” buaji snorted.

Khushi’s face fell. “I wish jiji were here,” she said.

Buaji sighed. “One of you has to stay with Sasi babua and help him run the shop, Nandkisore. You know the financial trouble we have been having this last year. Only Nandkisore knows what will happen to the shop and to your babuji.”

Khushi looked down at her plate, feeling miserable. Devi Maiyya had much to answer for.

                                                                 ***

Arnav paced the length and breadth of his room. Where was she?

He looked at the clock. 

He had been waiting for over three hours. How dare she leave him alone? 

“Unbelievable!” he exclaimed.

Khushi walked into the Raizada Mansion to see a flustered HP.

“Bitiya, go and see Arnav bhaiya before coming to the kitchen. He asked for you and when I told him you had gone to see your buaji, he insisted that you meet him before resuming your duties,” HP said, agitated. “I hope he doesn’t lose his temper with you.”

Khushi looked at HP, all perplexed. She was entitled to take half a day off every week. The last few weeks, she had gone to meet buaji when Arnavji was at office. Today too, she had timed it accordingly, but apparently he had returned early.

She walked up the steps to his room, bewildered. Was he angry with her? If so, why?

Soon she found herself at his door.

Swallowing nervously, she knocked.

“Come in,” he called tersely.

Khushi opened the door carefully and stepped into his room.

Arnav Singh Raizada was seated on his recliner, glaring at his laptop.

“I told you I will come down for tea. Why did you come up the stairs, HP?” Arnav thundered before looking up. His voice died away.

Khushi stood before him. Like a dream. Like a vision. Like the manifestation of his dearest wish. Like a secret need revealed.

They stared at each other, both speechless. He from sheer joy and she from uncertainty.

Then she asked, “Aap theek ho? Shall I bring tea?”

He stood up abruptly. The table moved and the laptop slid on its surface, but Arnav Singh Raizada had bigger things to worry about.

“Where were you?” he asked, breathing heavily.

Khushi frowned as she murmured, “At my buaji’s house.”

“Why did you leave without telling me?” he asked, his hot eyes intent on her.

Her mouth fell open.

Seeing her shock at his hyper reaction to her absence, sense slowly seeped into his hot head.

She was looking at him as though he were a maniac.

Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...he told himself. He had to save face...and fast.

“Is this your sanskaar? Your sense of civility? Where is your sense of professionalism?” he blustered.

“Arnavji,” she said slowly. “I am entitled to go home for half a day every week. Why should I ask you before leaving?” She placed her hands on her hips. “Laad Governor kahin ka!”

His mouth fell open.

“What the!”

“Aur nahi to kya. What is your problem?” she asked bluntly. “I have been going home for the past few weeks lekin aap ko pata nahi chala because I always go when you are at office and return here before you come home. How could I know you would return home early today?”

He opened his mouth to retort, but couldn’t come up with an answer in the face of such reasonableness.

“Agar tumhein kuch ho jata to?” he finally asked.

She stared at him for one moment, her mouth open before bursting into laughter.

“Hamein?” she asked, clutching her tummy. “You are worried something might happen to me? Aap bhi na! The villain hasn’t been born who can harm a hair on my body.” She claimed. “I am Sasi Gupta’s daughter.” She flexed her non-existent muscles. “Years of stirring halwa in huge vats and eating dher saare jalebis have left me as strong as Salman Khanji.”

He looked at the slender girl in a bright yellow salwar suit, pretending to be a pehelwan. A strong wind could carry her away.

His lips quirked. "Really?" he asked.

He fought a hard battle to keep the chuckles down, but failed.

Soon his shoulders were shaking with laughter.

Khushi could only stare at him in shock. Arnav Singh Raizada knew how to laugh! Hey Devi Maiyya! Miracles would never cease.

“I—I will bring tea,” she whispered before leaving the room, dazed at the sight of Arnavji’s amusement.

                                                           ***

Khushi walked down in a daze, still shocked by Laad Governor’s laughter. No, not Laad Governor. He didn’t look like Laad Governor when he laughed. He looked like a naughty child taking pleasure in little things in life, ready to be amused, willing to be engaged by the absurd.

Khushi shook her head to clear it. What a man he was! One moment an ogre; another moment a gentleman. A faint smile teased her lips.

“Kaa hua, Khussi?” nani’s stern question jolted her out of the trance.

“Ji..i...?” Khushi was startled into stammering.

“Muskura kyon rahi ho? What is amusing you?” nani asked suspiciously. Why was Khushi smiling on her way out of Chotey’s room?

“Kuch nahi, naniji,” Khushi said, all flustered.

Nani’s lips twisted in contempt. “A young girl doesn’t smile for nothing. What’s it?” she asked, her eyes cold.

Unsuspectingly, Khushi replied, “Nothing, naniji. Woh...Arnavji laughed. That’s all.”

Nani was shocked into silence. 

A moment later, she asked, "Chotey? Chotey...laughed? Why?”

Khushi shrugged. “Woh..I said something silly...and Arnavji laughed. Hum chalte hein, naniji. I have to take tea and biscuits to Arnavji,” she said and waited for nani’s permission to leave.

Nani nodded slowly.

Khushi left.

Nani stood staring at Khushi walking away, feeling her heart gallop so fast that she was in danger of collapse.

“Kya hua, nani?” Anjali asked, putting her phone away. She had been whiling away her time playing games on her phone.

“History is repeating itself, Anjali bitiya,” nani said, her face ashen.

“What?” Anjali asked, perplexed.

“Chotey laughed,” nani said.

Anjali almost had a fit. “Chotey? He laughed? Really? How? Why? When?”

“At something Khussi said,” nani said, sensing impending doom.

Anjali frowned. “Khushi? That girl in the kitchen? She made Chotey laugh? But when did he meet her?”

Nani waved away the question as irrelevant. “What matters now is that they don’t see each other anymore. Prepare her cheque. It is time to dismiss her,” she said.

Anjali fidgeted in discomfort. “But nani, HP can’t manage the work on his own. We will have to get another maid. And only God knows how long that will take. Till then we will have to help out in the kitchen. No, nani, please don’t send her away till we find another maid,” she begged.

Nani nodded thoughtfully. “You are right,” she said slowly. “Call the agency and ask for another maid. Till the new girl turns up, keep an eye on that Khushi. Or she will make us very dukhi.”

As though they had summoned her by talking about her, Khushi appeared, tray in hand, ready to take tea and biscuits to Arnavji.

“Khussi,” nani called.

“Ji?” she asked.

“Give me the tray,” nani instructed.

Khushi handed it over, wondering what was going on.

Nani pushed the tray towards Anjali who had no choice but to take it. “Anjali will give Chotey’s tea to him from now on,” nani declared.

“Ji,” Khushi replied with a smile. Now brother and sister could spend some time with each other and not be such strangers. Happiness filled her heart. It was sad that Laad Governor sat holed up in his room while the rest of his family lived a life he knew nothing about. Now that would change. His sister would take him tea, talk to him, ask about his day, share details of hers.

Khushi’s smile widened. She wanted to dance and squeal in excitement.

Now Laad Governor would lose his scowl and be more mellow in his interactions with others. He wouldn't spout nonsense about the world being evil. Nor would he remain buried in his laptop all day.

“Devi Maiyya ki jai ho,” she murmured as she turned to leave.