15. OS 20. The Temperamental Tyrant (Part 15)

Part 15

The deal was done.

ASR stood on the ramparts of the huge mansion, Sheesh Mahal and looked around at the mismanaged acres of land surrounding the house.

“Mallik has moved out with his belongings, sir,” Aman informed him, his low voice not intruding into Arnav’s thoughts.

Arnav said nothing, just stood looking out at the old trees and grass growing wild. The silence was broken only by the cooing of pigeons nesting in many nooks and corners of the haveli.

“I need you to do a few things here, Aman. You may have to stay here for a few weeks,” ASR said finally.

“Yes, sir,” Aman agreed.

After another long silence, Arnav said, “Aman, take me to Gomti Sadan.”

“Yes, sir,” Aman said after a minute pause.

                                                                   ***

Khushi combed her hair, standing before the ornate mirror that had been in babuji’s family for decades.

“Khushi, I am going to the shop. You have breakfast and bring the laddoos,” Payal said.

“Ji, jiji,” Khushi replied. “Then I will go to Excellent Textiles. They want a salesgirl.”

“Did you see their advertisement in the paper?” Payal asked.

“Yes, jiji,” Khushi replied.

“How is the salary?” Payal asked.

“Low,” Khushi admitted. But what could a twelfth pass girl with no particular skills other than making jalebi expect?

Payal sighed. “Why did you give up your job in Delhi, Khushi?” she asked. “It paid so well.”

A hand crushed Khushi’s heart, taking the colour from her cheeks. The image of Arnavji rose in her mind, choking her with tears.

She turned away.

Payal left.

Khushi looked at the tray of laddoos. What was he doing now? Was he well? She hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to him, had left in the night like a thief....

There wasn’t a moment when she didn’t think of him. Not a day went by when she didn’t miss him. Their conversation, his rare laughter, the concern in his eyes....If only she could see him once...

She took her phone in her hand. She had the number he had called her from. She could call him if she wished, but... Nani’s words echoed in her ears.

Tears filled her eyes. No, she would never see him again. Never. Their worlds were very different, very far apart. And there was no way rich Arnav Singh Raizada from Delhi would spend time chatting with penniless Khushi Kumari Gupta from Lucknow.

She laid the phone down. A tear made its way down her cheek. She placed a hand on her chest. Why did her heart ache every time she thought of him?

The clock rang the hour and Khushi jumped. It was time to take the laddoos to the shop.

As she carried the covered thali of laddoos and walked along the road to the shop, she didn’t see the black car parked on the road or the two men seated inside.

Arnav’s eyes burned as he saw her dispirited face. She had lost weight and her eyes were rimmed with fatigue due to sleepless nights.

He quickly slipped on his glasses to prevent Aman from seeing his moist eyes.

                                                                 ***

The door bell sounded.

Khushi dried her cheeks and went to open the door.

A young girl stood there, wearing a light blue coat over her salwar suit.

“Yes?” Khushi asked.

“Madam, we are distributing pamphlets in this area,” the girl said cheerfully.

Khushi frowned. Was the temple collecting chanda for a festival?

“We are a recruitment agency. Our pamphlets contain job openings in Lucknow,” the girl revealed.

Khushi’s mouth fell open. “Sachi?” she asked. It was as if someone had read her mind and Devi Maiyya had decided to do her a favour. Her interview at the textile shop had gone so spectacularly well that she was sure no garment shop in Lucknow would hire her.

The girl laughed. “Sachi,” she replied.

She handed over a pamphlet to Khushi and left.

Khushi perused the document.

The first job listed was that of a receptionist at a new hotel that was being started in Sheesh Mahal, an old building in the heart of the city. It was just a stone’s throw away and she could walk to her job if needed.

Her heart jumped.

But what about the qualifications needed to get the job? She was just a twelfth standard pass.

Her eyes fell on the requirements for the post and widened. It was perfect for her. Training in English and the use of office equipment would be given to the candidates.

Khushi sat down, her legs feeling weak.

Her eyes travelled down the page. The new hotel required gardeners, drivers, cooks, cleaners....

She looked at Devi Maiyya’s statue with folded hands. “Finally,” she whispered.

                                                             ***

Aman stood looking out through the window, watching Khushi Kumari Gupta enter Sheesh Mahal to apply for a job.

“She has taken the bait,” he murmured. He quickly messaged ASR who had returned to Delhi.

Dressed in a pastel green salwar suit, she looked like a pretty, lower middle class girl. She was no femme fatale. What was it about her that made ASR spend crores of rupees and devise childish schemes to help her?

What was the story?

He watched as she talked to the guards who directed her to the reception counter.

Soon there was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Aman called.

The office staff they had brought from Delhi opened the door and said, “Sir, Khushi Kumari Gupta has come to meet you. She wants to apply for the post of receptionist.”

“Send her in,” Aman replied.

The staff motioned Khushi in.

Aman finally got a close look at the girl who had the power to turn ASR the temperamental tyrant into a dejected, miserable Devdas Part 2 minus the alcohol. 

Beautiful eyes, clear skin, lovely hair, gorgeous body, cheap clothes and jewellery... Aman categorised. She was very attractive. But ASR worked in an office crawling with beautiful women and was immune to their attractions. No one could fell him with beauty. So it wasn’t her beauty that had attracted him.

Then what was it? he wondered.

“Khushi Kumari Gupta?” he asked.

“Ji,” she replied.

‘Good voice,’ he thought.

“Please sit down. You wish to apply for the post of a receptionist?” he asked.

“Ji,” she replied. “Lekin hamein aapko ek baat bataani he. I am just twelfth pass, woh bhi sarkaari school se. So my English is not good. And I have no experience working in an office.”

Aman smiled. Honesty. Yes, that must have knocked ASR out. He looked into her eyes. Innocence. So rare, so precious.

“That’s fine,” Aman said. “We will train you. Have you worked elsewhere?”

“Ji. My babuji is a halwai. My jiji and I have always worked in his shop. Then I worked as a maid in a house in Delhi for three months,” she replied honestly.

“I see,” Aman said. “Your family?”

“I live with my babuji and amma, my jiji and my buaji,” she said, a look of love on her face.

Aman looked at the closed file on his table containing the latest report from the detective.

“We will be giving you a stipend while you train with us,” he said, mentioning the amount.

Her mouth fell open. “So much?” she asked.

Aman smiled slightly. “Happiness Hospitality Group believes in paying its employees well. You will be one among twenty-five girls being trained for various jobs,” he said. “You can start tomorrow.”

“Ji,” she murmured, unable to believe her luck. It was as though a fairy had waved her magic wand.

Aman laughed. Only then did Khushi realise that she had spoken out aloud.

She flushed.

Aman looked away to control his amusement. Picturing ASR in a fairy costume was detrimental to his self-control.

“Hum chalte hein,” she said, standing up.

“Report at the front desk at ten tomorrow if you would like to join us,” Aman said, seeing her out.

“I will be there,” she promised.

Aman returned to his table and texted ASR that she had taken the job. He then pulled the file closer and opened it.

The investigator had dug deep.

Aman eyes widened as he read about Khushi’s parents’ death, how she had been adopted by her aunt and her husband, how she called them parents... ‘Oh God! Oh God!’ Aman’s heart murmured. This was terrible. His eyes ran over the remaining sentences and widened in shock.

The file fell from his numb fingers.

He scrambled to get it and frantically turned the papers to get to the page he had been reading. His eyes focused on the details given at the end of the paragraph and he sat down, feeling weak.

A couple of deep breaths later, he called ASR.

“Sir, there is  a problem,” he said in a subdued voice, regretful that he was the carrier of a very unhappy news.

“Is Khushi fine?” was ASR’s default response.

“Yes,” Aman rushed to reassure. “She is fine. The thing is...I got the investigator’s latest report.” He paused.

“Yes?” ASR aksed.

“There is something you need to know,” Aman said, miserable for ASR.