3. OS 21. An Unwilling Passion (Part 3)

Sorry for the delay, ladies. Having a few health issues. I will be posting part 3 tomorrow.

An Unwilling Passion will be my last story on the blog for some time. I will be completing it for sure before Feb ends. I hope to be able to get back to story writing sometime around mid 2019.

If anyone wants to buy my novels, kindly get in touch with me before mid Feb and complete your purchases. The novels are A Home for Meenakshi, Taking Care of You, A Royal Bride, Waiting for You, Sujatha and The Indulgent Guardian. 

Anyway, just wanted to let you know. Watch this space. Will post tomorrow.

Love,
Smita

Part 3

Arnav drove through the empty roads lit only by street lamps. A dog lying on the step of a shut shop lifted its head as the vehicle passed by and then went right back to sleep.

His jaw clenched. Lucknow. He was in the cursed city once more...and he was here because the woman who had wrecked his mother’s marriage and life was still in Lucknow, leading a happy life with her new family while his parents.... The vision of flames rising to the sky from their pyres rose in his mind. The image shifted to that of his di clinging to his frail shoulder with tears pouring down her cheeks as their chacha threw their books on the lawn and set them on fire.

“What will we do, Chotey?’ she had wept.

With quivering lips, in a trembling voice, he had promised rashly, “Main sab kuch theek kar doonga, di.”

He stood on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt.

Arnav sat back in his seat, his eyes closed, breathing deeply. He needed to gather himself together before starting the assault on his enemy.

A few moments later, he sat up and looked ahead. He had reached the mouth of the road leading to Gomti Sadan.

Drawing a deep breath, he drove slowly ahead.

Soon the ancient edifice came in his sight. The white-washed building shone in the dim light of early dawn. As he reached the building, he stopped the car.

The main entrance was unlocked.

He slowly emerged from the car, uncaring of the chill in the air, his eyes fixed on the open door. Through it he could see the courtyard.

Gritting his teeth at having to breathe the same tainted air as his nemesis, he stepped forward and crossed the threshold to see a dim light coming from a small shed on the property. The smell of cooking assaulted his nostrils.

He sniffed. The fragrance was familiar...and somehow forbidden.

He moved towards the shed on stealthy feet only to come to a sudden stop as his eyes fell on Khushi Kumari Gupta.

She was lovelier than her photos suggested. Fine features, a clear, silky complexion, pink, plump lips, a slim but curvaceous body that could tempt a saint to dance on the tattered remains of his self-control...

He swallowed hard, feeling swept away by a tsunami of strange feelings.

"Dekha he pehli baar, Sajan ki aankhon mein pyaar .......ta.ta.ta.ta.ta.ta.ta.ta.ta.ta.ta.ta.ta!" Khushi sang along with the radio.

In a hypnotic trance, his eyes traced the movements of her hand as she poured jalebi batter into hot oil. Round and round her hand swirled in tandem to the music wafting from the radio, letting the batter sink into the hot oil in the shape she wanted it to take.

He saw a frown form on her face.

Her head lifted and she looked right at him.

He felt his head spin at the breathtaking beauty of her eyes. Hazel, they looked at him with a world of innocence and a hint of inquiry. He forgot what he had planned to say to beguile her. He forgot where he was, why he had come there. He even forgot who he was. His past, his present, his future—they merged in his head in a chaotic whirlpool, sucking him in.

                                                              ***

Khushi stared at the astonishing sight of a man in dark clothes standing on the steps of the shed she cooked in. She couldn’t make out his features as the light didn’t reach his face, but she could see his formal clothes and more importantly, she could see him weaving.

“Hey Devi Maiyya,” she gasped before running forward to take hold of his arm and drag him into the shed.

She pushed him down to sit on a stool.

“Aap theek ho?” she asked, worried out of her mind.

Arnav lifted his head with a sigh and leaned back against the wall. Light fell on his face.

Khushi stood motionless, her breath caught in her chest. He was handsome. Breathtakingly, heartbreakingly handsome. His manly features, the light stubble, the faint grooves of exhaustion and worry on his forehead, his stubborn jaw...they left her speechless as her hosh went on a trip accompanied by the background music of Hum Tum Ek Kamre Mein band Ho...Or Chabi Kho Jaaye.

As she watched in silence, his eyelids fluttered and opened.

She stared into his molten chocolate eyes, mesmerised, lost, without sud bud and with no sense of time.

“Err,” he made a noise.

Khushi jumped. The dream she had been lost in faded away. She looked around. She was in her shed and her jalebis were burning.

“Hey Devi Maiyya,” she exclaimed, rushing to the stove to save her gol gol jalebis. “Khushi Kumari Gupta,” she chided herself. “How could you forget the jalebis?” She quickly lowered the fire and removed her sweets to a pot containing sweet chashni. Were they charred? Her anxious eyes scanned every bit of the sweets.

Then she turned to look at the stranger in her shed.

“Who are you?” she asked, not a little miffed that her drooling over him had resulted in her orange jalebis looking a trifle red due to over-frying.

“Arnav Singh Rai...,” he stopped.

“What?” she asked, a suspicious look in her eyes. She turned off the radio to hear better.

“Err..I am Arnav Singh from Raipur,” he quickly said.

“Oh,” she said slowly. “Why are you here? Woh bhi at this hour?”

“I..I have some business in Lucknow. I rented a house in this locality. I was trying to locate it,” he replied.

“Which house?” Khushi asked.

“Dilkhush Haveli,” he replied, his eyes on her face.

She beamed. “Arre, it is next door. So you are going to be our neighbour! How happy babuji and amma will be! That house was sold a few weeks back.” Her smile faded slightly as incomprehension filled her eyes. “You rented the whole haveli for yourself? It is so big. Aap wahan akele kya karenge?”

“Err,” ASR scrambled for an answer. “My company...my company rented it.”

Her face cleared. “Acha,” she replied, beaming away. “I will get you tea,” she said. “What will amma babuji say if I don’t offer tea to our new neighbour?” she asked, moving away to make tea.

ASR’s face hardened. Her amma and babuji, especially her amma would soon feel the heat of Arnav Singh Raizada’s presence in their midst. His fists clenched. Revenge was a dish best served cold and he had waited fifteen years to destroy the woman who had wrecked his mother’s life and made di and himself orphans. Every tear that his nani had wept, every moment of distress di had felt, every second of anguish his mother had suffered would be answered for.

“Kya hua?” asked a sweet voice.

He looked up at her face with eyes filled with pain and rage.

Her eyes widened.

He blinked and looked away.

“Chai peejiye na,” she entreated. "Why doesn't your company take better care of you?" she asked. "You look tired," she complained.

He took the cup from her. The tea was sweet and hot. He said nothing, just clung to the cup and sipped slowly.

When it was done, he stood up.

“The haveli is next door,” she said, pointing in the direction.

ASR nodded his thanks and turned to walk away.

“Arnavji!” she called.

He paused. The sweet voice, the pretty face. It was a trap set for him. Just as her aunt had trapped his father, she was trying to trap him.

His lips twisted in derision.

“Hum Khushi he. Khushi Kumari Gupta,” she called after him.

He managed to nod, before walking away into the dark.

Khushi turned to look at Devi Maiyya’s idol placed on the table with shining eyes. “He is so good-looking, bilkul Salmanji ki tarah!” she gushed. “But there is something disturbing him. Poor man, bilkul dukhi atma he. Devi Maiyya, you have sent him to the right person. I will share my khushi with him!” she declared cheerfully.

The lamp lit at Devi Maiyya’s feet burned more brightly.