35. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 35)

Part 35

“Now hamre Arnav bitwaa and hamre new bahuriya Khussi will do the aphter-bedding rasams,” mami announced. “All aaa jao, sit downs, sit downs,” she invited the guests.

“Chotey, Khussi bitiya, baith jayiye. You have to find the ring in this vessel of milk,” nani said, a happy smile on her face.

“Nani, do we really need to do this?” Arnav asked. “It is late.”

The ladies laughed at what they saw as his impatience to be alone with his bride on his wedding night. But Arnav’s eyes were on a visibly wilting Khushi.

“We hab to do these, Arnav bitwaa,” mami informed him.

“Akash and Payal did it long enough. Count that as ours too, mami. Let us go,” Arnav requested.

Before the Raizadas could remonstrate with him, Khushi whispered, “Let’s finish them, Arnavji.”

He looked at her, lost in her eyes.

“The rasams have to be done. Chaliye,” nani invited.

All sat down around the golden vessel with milk, rose petals and a ring to play games that were designed to make the bride comfortable with her groom and his family.

                                          ***

“Chotey, what are you doing here in your study? Go up to your room. Khushiji is waiting for you,” Anjali chided him.

“Last minute details,” he muttered as he signed cheques for the wedding arrangements.

“Bhai, you can do it tomorrow,” Akash suggested. “You must be tired tonight. Please, aap jaake rest keejiye.”

Capping his pen, Arnav nodded. He picked up his phone and called Aman.

Anjali fumed in anger and Akash sighed.

“Aman, slot the meeting for ten tomorrow,” he instructed. “I will be there.”

Two pairs of eyes glared at him when he cut the call.

“What?” he asked, unperturbed.

“It is your wedding night,” Anjali reminded him.

“I know, di,” he replied. “Good night.” He walked away.

“One day,” Anjali began. “One day, I swear, Akash, I will do him some harm.”

Akash smiled before wishing her a good night and leaving to join his sweet wife.

                                                    ***

Arnav walked up to his room on quiet feet. No one knew better than him that it was his suhaagraat. He had tarried to give Khushi time to rest, to feel comfortable in his room, to get used to the fact that they were married.

The door to his room was shut but not locked.

He pushed it open, slowly, softly, careful not to make a sound.

His breath caught in his chest.

The room was lit by the mellow glow of a hundred plump candles. The fragrance of jasmine and rose filled the room.

His eyes fell on the bed decorated to resemble a bower. And in the middle of a bed covered in red rose petals was Khushi with the pallu drawn over her head. Her knees were raised and her arms lay on them. Her head was lowered to rest on her arms.

He swallowed hard.

After a moment of standing still and gazing at his bride, he walked up to her.

“Khushi,” he called softly.

She did not answer him. She was fast asleep.

Arnav smiled. He turned away to get his nightclothes and went to the washroom to change.

Then he gently gathered her in his arms and laid her on the bed, her head on the pillow. Then he proceeded to remove her maang tikka, her necklace, her earrings and her bangles as carefully as he could to avoid hurting her.

Khushi slept the sleep of the exhausted, sleepless nights catching up with her.

Arnav sat on his recliner and worked on his laptop, stealing glances at his wife, relieved, happy and satisfied that she was finally with him, under one roof and in one room.

                                              ***

Khushi woke up with a start at dawn. Where was she? She stared at the floral chains surrounding the bed and hyperventilated.

“It is fine, Khushi,” came a husky mumble.

She turned her head to see a rumpled Arnav Singh Raizada lying on the bed by her.

She sat up hastily, staring at him with wide eyes. Then her eyes fell. “I fell asleep,” she said apologetic, her voice low.

“You were tired. So was I,” he said. “Go back to sleep, Khushi. We can talk in the morning.”

Khushi slowly eased back into bed and turned her back to him. She lay for a while staring at the candles and flowers in the room and slowly her lashes fell and she slipped back into sleep.

34. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 34)

Part 34

Today was her shaadi.

Khushi sagged in her chair.

The past week had flashed past her. All she could remember was being pushed into designer clothes and pulled out of them by her jiji as she attended rasam after rasam at the speed of light.

And Arnavji had kept his distance from her.

She breathed in deep. It had been a great comfort as she hadn’t needed to fight her dhak dhak and acidity caused by his nearness, but...but it had been disquieting as well.

Khushi placed her hand on her chest. Her lashes lifted to see herself in the mirror.

Why was he staying away from her? How would they manage for the rest of their lives? Would she make a good wife? And what kind of husband would Laad Governor be?

She swallowed hard.

She missed her mother like an ache today.

A tear trailed down her cheek.

She wished she could hug her amma and weep, ask for reassurance that she would be by her side if anything went wrong. She felt alone, all alone and lost in this ajeeb world that rarely made sense to her. She was still eight and an orphan who had had the rug pulled from under her feet by the death of her parents.

She crossed her arms to hold herself and wept.

                                                 ***

“Please bring the bride downstairs, Devyaniji,” the priest said. “It is time for the rituals to begin.”

“Yes, panditji,” nani said before turning to Anjali and Payal with a smile. “Bring Khussi bitiya downstairs.”

Anjali made to take a step forward, but Arnav beat her.

“I will get Khushi,” he said, making his way up the steps on quick feet.

He knocked on her door.

“Come in,” she whispered.

It was enough for him. He pushed the door open, stepped in and softly shut the door behind him.

Khushi was sitting on an engraved stool before the dressing table, her divine form in a designer lehenga reflected in the mirror.

She watched him walk to her softly, a large man in a black sherwani and red turban. The sherwani highlighted his broad shoulders and his washboard stomach and the turban gave him a regal look.

He came to stand behind her seated form.

“It is time, Khushi,” he said softly.

Khushi nodded. A tear slipped past the dam she had erected to keep her emotions under control.

“Khushi, please ro mat,” he murmured, wanting badly to touch her to comfort her, but stopping himself from doing so.

Khushi turned on the stool and threw herself at him. Her arms went around his waist and she pressed her face against his tummy.

He folded her close and placed one hand on her head, murmuring, “Khushi, it will be okay.”

“What if... I am... a bad... wife?” she mumbled, sobbing hard.

Arnav almost smiled. “I am more likely to be a hopeless husband than you are to be a bad wife,” he replied honestly.

She lifted her head to look at him.

He nodded. “I have no previous experience as a husband. I am a novice at this job, just as you have never been married before.” He waited for his answer to register in her head. Then he continued, “We will muddle through together.”

She stared at him.

“We will learn together, make mistakes together, correct them together,” he said.

“If I am not a good wife,” she sniffed, “your family and mine...they will be disappointed...”

“Don’t worry, Khushi,” Arnav said softly. He placed his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. “What happens between us remains between us.”

She looked at him with moist eyes, unable to believe her ears.

“We...we need to learn about each other, learn to adjust,” explained Arnav. “It will take time, but I promise, Khushi, tum aur mein, hamesha.”

She looked into his honest eyes. Tears ran down her wet cheeks.

Arnav dried her face gently. Then he asked, “Ready, Khushi?”

She nodded and reluctantly let go of his waist, feeling bereft at the loss of his warmth. He felt so good, she thought.

“Chalo,” he invited.

Khushi stood up.

Arnav ran deeply appreciative eyes over her slim form in a cream and red lehenga with pearls strewn all over it.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice husky and sincere.

Khushi blushed, feeling warmth spread through her insides.

He wanted to touch her flushed cheek, but told himself, ‘Just a few more minutes. Hang on there. Let the wedding rituals be over and done with.’

He held out his arm.

She curled hers around his.

They left the room.

Mami had to blink away her tears as she saw her Arnav bitwaa lead his bride down the steps to the living room where the mandap had been arranged.

Anjali hugged nani.

Nani silently promised her daughter, Ratna, that Arnav’s life would now be filled with joy.

Garima sighed in relief.

Buaji whispered, “A big responsibility is leaving our shoulders, Nandkisore. It is His kripa that we got such a good family and boy for Khussi.”

“Yes, jiji,” Garima replied softly. “I can't tell you how many nights I have spent worrying about Khussi’s future, about how I will face her mother after my death if we are unable to give Khussi a good life. Devi Maiyya heard my prayers and gave her such a good babua who will put up with her childishness.”

Sasi had to blink his tears away. His younger daughter was getting married and losing her would leave a big void in his heart. The only consolation was that he was handing her over to hands that would keep her safe, to a man who was used to shouldering the burden of an extended family without complaint.

“Sasiji, Garimaji, Madhumatiji, aayiye,” nani invited with a smile. “Let the rituals begin.”

33. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 33)

Part 33

Hate him? Khushi looked into molten eyes trained on her and felt a shiver of awareness go down her spine. That tingle wasn’t hate, was it?

Her eyes fell to his large hands loosely clasped on his lap and felt them trailing against her skin. She crossed her arms. Goosebumps didn’t signify hate, did they?

“No...” she whispered uncertainly.

The breath left him in a gust. The relief left him lightheaded.

“But you are very troublesome,” she murmured, looking away.

His brows shot up. “What the!” he exclaimed.

“You are too,” she insisted, turning to look at him. “Devi Maiyya knows how you trouble me.”

“What did I do?” he asked, trying his best to look as innocent as possible.

Khushi looked away. He could be brazen about his actions, but how could be shameless enough to voice them?

“What did I do, Khushi?” he asked urgently, racking his brains to find the source of her problem.

Khushi remained silent, her face firmly turned away.

“Khushi!” Arnav grabbed her hand to get her attention.

She pulled her hand away, saying agitated, “This is what I meant. Why do you touch me?”

His eyes widened.

“Do you have any idea what it feels like when you touch me?” Khushi asked, too angry to realise the significance of the words. “Jab dekho haath pakdthe rehte hein,” she muttered her complaint. “If I try to stay away from him, he follows me and takes hold of my hand.”

Arnav stared at her with fascinated eyes.

“Do I need to breath or not?” she asked reasonably. “Then why are you touching me idhar udhar?”

He swallowed hard. Then he asked, “Khushi, what if I promise not to touch you?”

She looked at him in astonishment.

“What if I promise not to touch you till you ask me to touch you?” he qualified.

“Why should I ask you to touch me?” she asked, frowning.

“You never know. You may like me touching you,” he said easily. “Will you marry me if I promise not to touch you till you ask me to?” he insisted.

Khushi tried thinking with a brain with scrambled cells and couldn’t come up with any reason to refuse. And their wedding was fixed anyway. So refusing to marry him after agreeing to marry him didn’t make any sense. So she said weakly, “Yes.”

He leaned back in relief. “I will ask my family to hurry the rasams,” he said.

She frowned. “Why?”

“We need to learn a lot about each other, Khushi. And it is better if it happens after shaadi,” he said mildly.

She asked, confused, “You don’t have time to visit me daily so that we can know each other?”

“You can say that,” he replied after a moment.

She nodded. “Theek he,” she said slowly.

“I promise, Khushi, you will never regret marrying me,” he said quietly.

She looked at him.

He stood up and held his hand out to help her stand up.

Khushi looked at his open palm.

“You will always have the choice, Khushi. You can decide whether to take my hand or not,” he said softly.

Khushi drew in a shuddering breath. Her eyes on his hand, she made to slowly lift her hand.

He quickly withdrew his hand as though he hadn’t seen her compliance.

“It is fine, Khushi,” he said easily. “You can touch me when you feel comfortable. Don’t fret about it.”

Khushi nodded slowly and stood up.

Arnav looked at the dome of the temple and said a silent thanks to Devi Maiyya.

                                                      ***

Arnav walked into his house and handed over his coat to HP. “Ask the whole family to assemble in the living room,” he instructed. “I need to talk to them.”

“Yes, Arnav bhaiyya,” HP murmured as he ran to do his bidding.

Soon his family members took their seats, varying degrees of anxiety on their faces except for mami. There was a heavy layer of caked face pack on her face.

“Kaa hua, Arnav bitwaa?” mami asked. “Bhy did you call ujj?”

Arnav took one horrified look at her white face and looked away to compose himself.

“Chotey?” Anjali asked, all ready to weep at the drop of a hat.

“Err..I want you to finish all the rasams within a week,” he instructed.

The whole family stared at him. Payal looked downright worried. How would her family manage?

“What is the need to waste time?” he asked, trying to keep his face impassive.

“The rasams...?” nani looked at mamaji.

“You know I don’t believe in all that nonsense,” Arnav said brusquely. 

“And if you are insistent, we can have them after the wedding.”

The whole family gasped.

“Have pre-wedding rituals after the wedding?” nani asked, shocked.

“What has gotten into you, Chotey?” Anjali asked in wonder.

“A bhoot,” mami said. “A shaadi ka bhoot got into hamre Arnav bitwaa.”

“Work,” he blurted out. 

Akash and mamaji stared at him.

“I may have to go on an extended official tour soon,” Arnav tried to say convincingly. “I don’t want the wedding to be postponed till I can return. So let’s have the shaadi this week.”

All looked at Payal. She looked helplessly at Akash. “One week? The arrangements...” she murmured. “How will babuji be able to arrange everything in such a short time?”

“Nani, let Khushi’s family know, please. Aman will get event managers and we can have all the rasams you deem unavoidable, here at our house,” Arnav decided.

The Raizadas looked at each other, both perplexed and amused at Arnav’s urgency.

Only Arnav knew how difficult it had been to trap his fidgety kabootari in the web spun with his words. He drew in a deep breath. The shaadi had to happen at the earliest moment possible.

32. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 32)

Part 32

Arnav looked into panicked eyes with something like a storm in his heart.

“I need to talk to you,” he blurted out.

Khushi hesitated a moment and then nodded. She was going to marry this Laad Governor. What was the point in refusing to talk to him?

They walked down the steps of the temple, silently matching their pace.

They paused near a low bench by a banyan tree.

Maybe they could sit here and talk, he thought, his eyes scanning the area to see if they would be left undisturbed. No, there were too many people about.

“Khushi, let’s have tea together,” he suggested, badly needing the privacy to ask her what he needed to know.

“No.” Khushi shot down the idea.

He sighed inwardly. She was not going to make this easy.

“Sit down,” he said motioning towards the bench.

Khushi sat.

He sat by her.

She inched away from him.

He drew in a deep breath for courage and patience.

Khushi looked away.

“Why did you agree to marry me?” he asked at this late date.

Fury rushed through her like tsunami waves, overpowering her. If she had gotten her hands around his neck, he would have been a dead man for sure.

“Khushi?” he asked, disturbed by her silence.

“Why do you want to know?” she asked, gimlet-eyed.

“Did your family force you to agree to our marriage?” he asked bluntly.

She stared at him with wide eyes for a long moment.

And then the fight left her. He could see the spirit leach out of her and he knew he had his answer.

His shoulders sagged.

They sat in silence for a long time, both lost in their unhappy thoughts.

Then she said softly, “They didn’t force me. I..I decided to do it for them. It is the least I can do.”

He looked at her, a question in his eyes.

“I owe them,” she said softly.

“Because they adopted you?” he asked bluntly.

Her surprised eyes looked into his for a moment. Then she nodded.

“Do you think they expect such...such sacrifice from you?” he asked softly.

She swallowed.

His eyes tracked the movement of her throat muscles.

“Maybe not...” she said slowly. She turned her head to look at him accusingly. “But you had to make it impossible for me to refuse.”

One brow went up in question.

“Dragging jiji into it. What was the need to do that? Aap ko pata hona chahiye tha na that everything we do affects jiji,” Khushi thundered.

Arnav frowned. “How?” he asked simply.

Khushi’s mouth fell open. “How? Aap pooch rahe hein how?”

He waited.

“Your brother is married to my sister. If I refuse your proposal, what will be my jiji’s izzath in her sasural?” she asked.

Arnav frowned. “What has my proposal got to do with Payal’s izzath?” he asked bluntly.

“You know nothing!” Khushi chastised. “Aap insaan ho ke machine? Your family would have taken their disappointment on jiji if I had refused. Matlab, my family feared they would.”

“Unbelievable,” he murmured, shaking his head.

“You should have thought twice before proposing,” Khushi informed him. “You put my jiji’s happiness at risk just to satisfy your whim.”

He looked at her angry visage. How to get her to understand that it wasn’t a whim, that he...that he...? He looked away.

A moment later, he said, “Khushi, why don’t you want to marry me?”

She pursed her lips. “Why should I want to marry you?” she asked bluntly. “You are much older than me.”

“Your parents don’t have a problem with that,” he countered.

Khushi had to admit he was right.

“You are akhdoo, khadoos. You lose your temper at the slightest excuse.” She gestured with her hand. “Your temper goes to satve aasman in seconds.”

He nodded. What couldn’t be countered had to be agreed to. “Yes,” he admitted. He paused for a moment and then said, “My diabetes makes me irritable.”

Khushi swallowed hard. Illness was not really something he had chosen to have. She had to concede this. It was only fair.

She nodded.

“And...”

“And?” Khushi asked, always curious.

“And my childhood...My parents died when I was young. Nani, mami and di brought me up,” he muttered.

Pity welled up in Khushi’s heart.

He turned his head and saw sympathy in her moist eyes. He, who normally had the greatest aversion to being pitied, felt comforted at the sight of her sympathetic tears. Suddenly he wanted to tell her the whole gory truth even if it turned her against him.

“My mama suspected that papa was having an affair and shot herself...with his gun,” he began.

Khushi gasped.

“He shot himself a couple of hours later,” he continued.

Khushi clutched her chest in shock.

“It was di’s wedding day. The shaadi didn’t happen, of course. We burned them together the next day,” he said, his voice emotionless, his face expressionless.

“He Devi Maiyya!” Khushi whispered.

The temple bells rang.

He expected questions from her, especially about his father’s infidelity. But she surprised him by remaining silent.

He turned to look at her white face.

“I am not like my father,” he comforted her.

She nodded slowly.

She didn’t demand any promises or make stipulations binding him to good behaviour.

“I will never hurt you, never subject you to the humiliation my mama felt. Never, Khushi,” he whispered.

She nodded.

The comfortable silence settled his heart and loosened his tongue. “I..I am not very...very comfortable dealing with people,” came the understatement.

Khushi nodded.

“I have always been alone,” he murmured, saying under his breath, “if anyone can be alone in the madhouse that’s my home.”

Khushi looked at him quietly.

“I thought...it is time to change that, maybe time to have a life,” he confessed. “That’s why I...”

Khushi nodded. “Yes,” she agreed.

“Do you hate me, Khushi?” he asked, his eyes directly on hers. 

31. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 31)

Part 31

Arnav went to his room, his head whirling. Khushi would do anything for Payal. Anything for Payal. Why? Because she loved her sister who was not her real sister?

 Yes.

Khushi loved Payal. There was no doubt about that. Her love for Payal shone through everything she said and did. She even looked at Payal with intense affection.

Had she agreed to marry him to stay with Payal?

He frowned. Then why didn’t she look happy with her decision? She looked defeated, dull, lifeless, as though the fight had been brutally beaten out of her.

He drew in a deep breath after shutting the bedroom door behind him.

Her parents were happy with his proposal. They were happy that Khushi had agreed to marry him.

The frown grew fiercer. What had struck him about their reaction. Something had gnawed at him. What had been that?

He shut his eyes and visualised the scene when Khushi had agreed to marry him.

What had he seen on the faces of her family members?

Payal had been incandescent with pure joy.

Khushi’s father had been smiling, but his eyes had been... anxious. 

Buaji had heaved a sigh of relief and praised Nandkisore.

 And Khushi’s amma had looked so worried when Khushi had approached them. Her face had cleared only when Khushi had announced her decision.

Arnav had to face the bitter question. Had her family pressurised her into accepting his proposal?

He banged his hand on the wall, not feeling pain. It was going to be  a long night.

                                              ***

He called Khushi first thing in the morning.

Buaji picked up the receiver. “Kaun he, Nandkisore?” she asked.

“Buaji, is Khushi there?” he asked.

Buaji smiled. “Nahi, bitwaa. She has gone to the temple near our house. Kaa hua, Nandkisore? You want to talk to her so early in the morning?”

He muttered something and cut the call, hoping he had made some sense.

                                        ***

“Bitiya, take prasad,” the priest offered.

Khushi held out her hand for the laddoo and sensed another hand joining hers.

She looked at the hand. It looked very familiar.

She looked at the body attached to the hand and felt her mouth go dry.

Her eyes reached his face.

Molten chocolate eyes were focused on her wide hazel ones.

“He Devi Maiyya,” she whispered. “Raksha karna.”