Hoping to post once a week.
Part 2
“What the!” he muttered. Was he
dreaming? How had HP been replaced by a beautiful damsel in pink who was spouting
nonsense? And that too at this early hour?
“Where is the havan?” Khushi asked,
looking around the room, disappointed.
“Havan?” Arnav repeated, bemused.
“Who the hell are you?”
Khushi sighed, sorry that her picture
of a saintly man had been wide off the mark. “Hum Khushi Kumari Gupta,” she
replied.
“So?” Arnav asked, taking in the
finer details of her colourful appearance, her glowing face, her beautiful
hazel eyes and shiny plait. How dare she look so fresh and bright at this early
hour? No one had the right to do so, especially when he had spent half the
night fighting nightmares.
She frowned. “So?” she asked.
“I don’t care who you are,” he began
to blast her. “I..”
She cut him short. “If you don’t
care, then why did you ask?”
Arnav clenched his jaw. “What are you
doing in my room?” he bit out.
“Bringing you tea. What else will I
be doing in your room at this time?” she asked reasonably.
Arnav could feel fury rise in him
along with some unsettling sensation in his chest region at the disappointed
look on her enchanting face. “Where is HP?” he fumed.
“HP?” she frowned cutely.
“Hariprakash,” he bit out
impatiently.
She pursed her lips. “Where will he
be? At the foot of the stairs. How can Hariprakashji climb the steps? His knees
hurt,” she informed him.
Arnav frowned. HP had knees? He had
never noticed, taking him for granted as he brought tea and meals to his room.
“You didn’t know, did you?” she
asked, hitting the mark.
His frown deepened. Who was she to
question his right to look through his helper? “Who are you?” he asked again.
“Hariprakashji’s assistant,” she
informed him triumphantly.
“Really?” he breathed. Helpers had
assistants?
“Hum chalte hein,” she informed the
workaholic who gave acidity to his employees. “I don’t have time to waste
answering your behuda questions. I have a lot of work to do.”
As he watched with his mouth open,
she turned and walked away, humming an old Bollywood song.
She stopped near the door and said,
“Chai pee leejiyega. It will become cold.”
She left.
“Unbelievable!” he breathed, running
his hand through his ruffled hair. Had he just imagined her in his drab room?
He looked at the low table. It held a
silver tray with his mug of tea.
No, he hadn’t imagined her.
***
Khushi came down the steps, humming,
Main Kya Karoon Ram, Mujhe Buddha Mil Gaya, to find HP waiting for her at the
foot of the stairs.
“Khushiji, Arnav bhaiyya didn’t scold
you?” he asked anxiously.
“Scold me? Am I a bachi for him to
scold me. I am a big girl, Hariprakashji,” she said with a merry laugh.
Arnav bhaiyya must have been silenced
by shock, HP decided. Otherwise why would he let go of an opportunity to show
off his short temper?
“And what reason have I given him to
scold me?” Khushi asked happily. “I just took him his tea.”
HP grimaced. When had Arnav bhaiyya
needed a reason to shout and throw things?
“Khushiji, this is a good house. Naniji
is kind. Anjaliji helps in the kitchen once in a while. Mamiji doesn’t enter
the kitchen and sometimes looks scary with the colour on her face, lekin she
doesn’t shout at us. Mamaji and Akash bhaiya are gentle souls. Don’t leave your
job and go away,” he begged. “Woh kya he, bitiya, I can’t manage the cooking on
my own.”
Khushi frowned. “Why should I go
away, Hariprakashji?” she asked. “I came to work, not to run away.”
That’s what they all said before
Arnav bhaiya drove them away with his furious outbursts. Hariprakash sighed and
said, “Theek he. Let’s start on breakfast. Arnav bhaiya always leaves for
office at 8 in the morning.”
“So early?” Khushi asked as they
walked to the kitchen together.
“Yes,” HP muttered.
***
Arnav sat in solitary splendour at
the breakfast table, his eyes darting to the kitchen, trying to catch a glimpse
of the girl who had materialised in his bedroom at dawn.
He had tried to put her out of his
head as he worked on his laptop, but she had crept in, disrupting the couple of
hours he always managed to devote entirely to his work before setting out to office.
He was pissed off by her presence,
unhappy that he was thinking of her, but curious to see her once more. Just
once more. Did she actually look the way he had imagined her to look?
“HP, water,” he said gruffly,
expecting HP to summon Khushi Kumari Gupta from the kitchen.
But HP badly wanted Khushi to stay.
He hobbled to the kitchen to get the water himself.
Arnav’s fingers clenched around the
spoon. HP needed medical care for his knees. How had he missed the signs that
HP was growing old? He should have seen it, should have known, should have
taken care of it. He hated to give credit to that girl, Khushi Kumari Gupta,
but HP needed a doctor.
HP returned with water and placed it
by Arnav’s plate.
“You have help in the kitchen?” Arnav
asked.
“Y..yes, Arnav bhaiya,” HP stammered.
“From today, give the grocery list to
Mohan. He will do the shopping. You don’t have to go out,” Arnav ruled.
“Yes, Arnav bhaiya,” HP said after a
moment. What was happening here? HP couldn’t believe his ears.
“The doctor will come here today to
check on you,” Arnav muttered as he stood up and made to leave.
HP could only stare at him.
Arnav stopped on his way. “Ask your
assistant to get me my laptop bag from my room,” he instructed, shrugging into
his coat. He needed to see her once more.
HP hobbled to the kitchen as fast as
he could.
In a few seconds, Arnav saw Khushi
Kumari Gupta in all her glory. The bright, expressive hazel eyes, the clear,
creamy skin, the twinkling nose pin, her well-formed features, her long plait,
the elegant lines of her neck... She was more beautiful than he remembered. He
felt something tightening in his chest area.
Khushi gulped at her sight of the
formally clad man with molten chocolate eyes and jutting, stubborn chin.
She didn’t stop to talk to him. As he
watched, she quickly went up the steps and returned with his laptop bag.
She walked to him and held out his
bag.
His eyes on her enchanting features,
he extended his hand to take the bag.
His fingers touched hers.
The bag dropped to the ground.
HP clutched his heart. Now Arnav
bhaiya would dismiss Khushiji and burn down the house.
Arnav said nothing. He stood waiting,
his eyes on her startled eyes and the light flush on her cheeks.
She quickly bent and grabbed the bag
from the floor and held it out to him, taking care not to hold it by the
handle.
Arnav took it from her. There was no
reason to hang around. He turned and left the house.
Khushi heaved a sigh of relief, her
hand on her heart. Why did she feel like she had just survived a hurricane? She
lifted her hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and stopped, horrified.
Her hands were covered in wheat
flour. She had been kneading dough for roti when Hariprakashji had called her.
She gulped. What if the bag was
covered in atta?
“Drop me at office and return home. Take
the grocery list from HP and do the shopping for him,” Arnav instructed Mohan,
the driver. “He is not well.”
“Yes, Arnav bhaiya,” Mohan replied.
Arnav looked at his laptop bag lying
by him on his seat. He usually worked on his way to office, but today he felt
the need to breathe.
Last night had been particularly
brutal, the nightmares making it almost impossible for him to sleep. Each time
he had slipped into oblivion, his mama’s cry had filled his ears and he had
woken up with a jerk. The sound of the shahanai that played as a background to
his mama’s cry and the shot had given him the chills. He had spent a good part
of the night pacing the length and breadth of his room.
His parents’ death anniversary was
next week.
He shut his eyes and leaned back
against the headrest.
‘When will this torture end? When?
When?’ his mind demanded. ‘Never,’ came the answer. ‘Never, as long as you are
alive. You are the cheater and the cheated, the perpetrator
and the victim, carrying their blood in your veins. You are the greatest joke
in existence, Arnav Singh Raizada.’
He clenched his fists.
‘Work. That’s all that’s left in your
life. And that’s all that will stay till the end.’ The message came, distinct
and disturbing.
His eyes still shut, his hand reached
for his laptop bag.
He frowned. It felt odd to his touch.
His eyes flew open.
There was a fine white powder on the
black bag, that too in the shape of Khushi’s hand.
He stared at it in shock for a long
moment.
Then his lips relaxed in a small
smile.
***
