6. Os 21. An Unwilling Passion (Part 10)

Part 10

It was a restless night for Arnav Singh Raizada, the major part of which he sat by his window looking out at the shed in which Khushi was cooking. It was dawn when she left the shed for a couple of hours of much-needed sleep and ASR could finally lay his weary head on his pristine pillow.

He was woken up by the persistent ring of his phone.

Aman.

“Yes,” he growled.

“Agarwal is neck-deep in debt. Why is he letting his son marry a penniless girl? Beats me,” Aman ran his fingers through tousled hair.

ASR sat up in bed, all sleep vanishing. “In debt?” he mused. “But he told the Guptas that he didn’t want dowry.”

“The whole thing doesn’t add up,” Aman remarked.

A moment later ASR said, “It does. He intends to wait until the eleventh hour and then demand a huge amount as dowry. Desperate for the wedding to happen, the Gutas will arrange the cash. That’s the plan.”

“The crook!”, Aman was moved to exclaiming.

“Yes,” ASR murmured. “I will stop this from happening.”

“Sir,” Aman ventured hesitantly. “The Guptas are our enemy.”

“I know,” ASR muttered. He tried hard to dredge up the hatred he felt toward the Guptas, especially Garima. “But I will take my own revenge, not enjoy it vicariously through the damage caused by the greedy Agarwal. They are my prey, not Agarwal’s.”

“Yes, sir,” Aman agreed, not fully certain what was going through his boss’ head. He wondered if ASR knew what was going on in his own superior, Haridwar-trained brain.

                                                               ***

He had to dissuade Khushi from letting Payal marry that money-grubbing fellow, ASR decided. But how to do it without letting her know that he knew the Agarwals were in debt and planning to ditch the bride at the last moment if the dowry wasn’t paid?

A doubt crept into his mind. Why was he fretting over Payal’s future? The image of Khushi’s tear-filled eyes flashed in his mind, sending him all flustered, confused and anxious.

He shook his head to clear it, but his bewilderment continued unabated.

                                                            ***

“Khushi,” he called.

She looked up, her eyes lighting up and a big smile blooming on her tired face. “Aap?”

He quickly grabbed the bag she was lugging. It was heavy. He looked suspiciously at it. What was in it? Rocks?

“I am returning from the market, Arnavji,” she explained. “We have a big order for tomorrow.”

“Where is Payal?” he asked, angry that Khushi was left with the hard labour as always.

“Jiji is making laddoo for an order. I need to get back soon,” she said with a sigh, fanning herself.

“Khushi, this shaadi,” he began.

“Aap aayenge na? Don’t tell me you have to go to work that day!” she protested.

“No, no, Khushi, listen to me,” he urged.

Khushi looked at him with mild surprise in her eyes. “Kya hua, Arnavji?”

“Are you sure this is right...for Payal?” he asked.

Khushi frowned. “The boy and girl liked each other,” she said slowly.

“The family. What do you know about the Agarwals?” he asked.

She looked bewildered. “Jaanna kya he, Arnavji? They have a shop in Lucknow market. Ache khaate peete log he. They will keep jiji happy. The boy’s mother was very sweet to her when they visited us.”

“You..you should find out more about them,” ASR urged.

Khushi smiled uneasily. “I will ask babuji to do so. Hum chale? There is a lot of work left.” She took the bag from him.

“Khushi,” he called to stop her.

She paused.

He took the bag from her. “I will drop you home,” he offered and without waiting for her to reply, opened the door of his car and placed the bag inside.

He held the door open for Khushi.

She entered the vehicle with an appreciative sigh and sat back in relief. The bag was heavy and the day hot.

She relished the cool air blowing against her face for a moment.

“Is this your car, Arnavji?” she asked then, a mild frown on her face.

ASR’s eyes widened. He had to be very careful or his cover would be blown. “No, the company’s,” he muttered, his eyes on the road.

She remained silent and relaxed until he reached Gomti Sadan. Then with a smile, she thanked him profusely for the lift, lifted her bag and entered the courtyard.

ASR drove to the house next door, frustrated that his words hadn’t made an impact on her.

                                                                     ***

In the following days, ASR made several concerted attempts to meet Khushi and persuade her to stop the wedding. But all of them failed. How could he get her to understand the seriousness of the situation when he couldn’t get five minutes alone with her? he fumed. She was way too busy for them to exchange more than a few words each time he managed to meet her.

One time she told him, “Babuji enquired about the Agarwals. They are good people,” as she breezed past him.

He opened his mouth to ask further, but she was long gone, her arms laden with sarees, her plaited hair flying behind her in the strong wind.

ASR gritted his teeth in frustration.

                                                                    ***

“Khushi!” he called.

“I was coming to see you, Arnavji,” she said, laughing. Her eyes shone with joy. “Today is sangeet. Please make sure you are free this evening.”

“What the!” Arnav blustered.

Her brows crinkled slightly, but her smile remained undimmed. “What the nahi, sangeet. It is the night of dance and music. Aap aayenge, na?” she asked.

Before he could reply that dancing was anathema to him, buaji called, “Khussi, o Khussi? Where has that girl gone off to? Who will plate the halwa? Parmeswari? Sanka Devi?”

“Aaayi, buaji,” Khushi called, running away before Arnav could stop her.

He spent the whole evening pacing, his fists clenched, his jaw tight, the music from the house next door fueling his unease and the gut feeling that something was going to happen.

He looked out through the window of his bedroom on the top floor to see Khushi dancing. Wearing a coral anarkali, she was rocking the stage with a group of young boys and girls. The song was unfamiliar to him, but the beat was entrancing. So was the sight of her moving gracefully on the stage, her mehendi-covered hands and arms adding to her beauty. He stood watching her till the dance ended and then resumed prowling.

                                                             ***

The next day he watched ladies heading towards Gomti Sadan that was decorated with yellow flowers. Most of the guests were in yellow clothes and he watched Khushi carry a dish filled with haldi into the house.

He turned away, feeling acute disquiet. The wedding was to be held that evening.

He heard Khushi laugh and turned his head to see her laughing at something an elderly lady had said to her.

Her joy was infectious. A small smile appeared on his lips, but it soon died away. Everything in him told him that he was going to witness a repeat of what had happened to his di.

He drew in deep breaths to calm himself. This went against everything he believed in and had practiced to date, but maybe he...maybe he was wrong. Maybe Khushi was right. Maybe the Agarwals were genuinely good people. Maybe he was being too cynical. Maybe he was just...just crazy...and too guarded and too weighed down by too many bitter memories. Maybe he should let things happen and deal with them....

He frowned. Why was he worried about the safety and happiness of his enemy? He shook his head to clear it. ASR and idealism didn’t breathe the same air. And his intuition was always spot on.

                                                                ***