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.
***
