13. OS 20. The Temperamental Tyrant (Part 13)

KINDLY PURCHASE 'THE INDULGENT GUARDIAN' BEFORE AUGUST 15th. DETAILS ARE GIVEN IN PART 12.

Part 13

“Are you interrogating me, Chotey?” nani hissed. “Remember that I am your nani.”

“I know who you are,” Arnav bit out. “I also know what you are capable of.”

“Chotey!” Anjali protested. “is this the way to talk to our nani?”

Arnav smiled wryly. He turned to nani. “You looked after us when our chacha threw us out after our parents committed suicide,” he said bluntly. “Thank you. But that doesn’t give you the right to dictate my life.”

“Arnav bitwaa, yeh ho kaa raha he?” mama asked.

“Nani feared that history was repeating itself,” Arnav said laconically.

“Kaa?” mama asked, perplexed.

“What, bhai?” Akash asked.

“Bhat hajj Sasumma to do with Khussi going to meet her buaji at night like a thiefwaa?” mami asked, confused.

“That is what I want to know,” Arnav said, throwing a look of challenge at his nani.

“Chotey, this is enough. Why should nani be involved in the personal life of a maid we employed here?” Anjali asked, distaste loudly written on her face.

“Nani, di too wants to know,” he said, throwing a provocative glance at the elderly lady.

Nani said nothing.

“You know everything,” Arnav taunted nani. “You are responsible for Khushi leaving this house at night.”

“Amma, ee sab kaa he?” mama asked his mother, disturbed.

Nani lost it.

“You are asking me, Manohar? You, who brought disgrace to this house by dangling after the maid, who fell for the lures thrown at you by the house help?” Nani was magnificent in his anger.

Manohar flushed and mami’s face turned ashen, throwing into relief her ‘skilfully’ applied makeup.

“Dadi!” Akash interjected. “You are talking of my mother.”

“Ussi ka rona he,” nani stated. “And now your bhai is following in your father’s footsteps.”

All except nani and Arnav gasped. Anjali shut her eyes, fearing a blow-up.

Mami looked at mama with horror in her eyes.

“Out of the lakhs of sanskaari, educated girls available from good families, your bhai couldn’t find any girl to please him. No, not at all. He had to be infatuated with an anpad, gavar from Lucknow, wearing cheap, flashy clothes and inexpensive trinkets,” nani said with a sneer.

HP slowly withdrew into the kitchen. Naniji was wrong about Khushi, but she wouldn’t listen to him.

“What?” Akash asked with an incredulous gasp.

“Ee kaa keh rahi ho, amma?” mama asked, unable to believe his ears.

“I told him to marry. But your Arnav bitwaa declared that he didn’t believe in marriage. I invited a potential bride and her family here. He insulted them. Kyon? Because he was fascinated by a gold digger who was trying her best to dig her claws into him,” nani said. “I expected better of him, but I should have known...”

“...that the son of Arvind Mallik can change his name, but not his blood,” Arnav said quietly.

“Chotey!” Anjali whispered.

“Arnav bitwaa, naahi...” mami wept.

The rest of the family stared at him, including nani who hadn’t expected him to embrace his past with ease and no emotion. His lack of visible anger was scarier than his outbursts and tantrums.

 “What did you tell Khushi?” was all Arnav asked.

Nani had to look away for a moment. Then, because weakness wasn’t an option, she looked at him and said, “That girls from impoverished families shouldn’t hope to marry eligible sons of houses they work in.”

Arnav clenched his jaw, but he remained silent, waiting.

“That she should give up her dreams of being Mrs. Arnav Singh Raizada. That her father, a halwai had sent her here to trap one of my grandsons,” nani said.

“Did Khushi try to lure you into marriage, Akash?” Arnav asked quietly.

Akash’s mouth fell open. “No, bhai,” he replied, flustered. “We barely exchanged a couple of words.”

“We had many conversations. I never felt she was trying to trap me,” Arnav said laconically. “And I should know, with my experience of girls of marriageable ages and their mothers chasing me, hopeful that the chase will end at the mandap.”

“Amma, I think you overreacted,” Manohar said quietly.

Nani grimaced. Her son was a fool. “Do you want Arnav Singh Raizada to marry a poor halwai’s daughter?” she asked acerbically.

Manohar looked away.

“She is not a halwai’s daughter,” Arnav clarified, totally free of anger because the way ahead was very clear to him.

Nani snorted.

“Kaa, Arnav bitwaa?” mama asked.

“She is an orphan, like me,” he said quietly. “Her parents died in an accident when she was young. The man she calls babuji is her mother’s sister’s husband.” He looked at nani. “She loves him, respects him, would do anything for him.”

Nani looked away.

“That makes him more than a poor halwai,” Arnav said.

Mama nodded. “He seems to be a good man,” he remarked. “Amma, you are mistaken about Khushi.”

“You may be happy to see Arnav Singh Raizada marry a beggar, but I am not.” She stood up. “As long as I am alive, I will not let it happen,” nani said, walking away.

                                                            ***