The Diwali of Decisions... Part 2: Arnav's Quandary

 

             The Diwali of Decisions

                     Part 2

AN: Hi everyone, I am back with the second part of my latest story. Again, I've stuck to the canon up until the first Diwali episode, and my story takes off from there. I hope you enjoy reading this. Your comments and criticisms are always welcome. The final part will be up some time next week. Happy reading :) 

               

               Arnav’s Quandary

There was a slight knock at the door, and Arnav looked up expectedly.

“Arnav bhaiya, your coffee.” Hari Prakash entered the room and kept the cup on the table beside his recliner.

He felt a slight twinge of disappointment.

“Where is everyone?” he asked in a clipped tone, eyes still on his laptop.  “Bhaiya ji, Nani, Anjali di and Lavanya ji are in Nani’s room, Mamiji has gone to the ‘temple’ and Akash bhaiya hasn’t come back from the office yet.” The answer didn’t do anything to improve Arnav’s mood. ‘Okay, you may go now.’ The boss barked. HP left, still unphased, he was used to his Arnav Bhaiya’s well-meaning insolence.

 

Well, of course Akash was still at the office, that’s where he himself should have been. It was f***ing three in the afternoon, and Arnav Singh Raizada, the Founder and CEO of AR, was home already, frustratingly failing at drafting an important mail. Oh, how the mighty have fallen! He wanted to ask about her, but didn’t know how? He had left early for his office this morning, wanting to avoid any chance encounter with one Miss Gupta. While leaving though, he had overheard his di tell someone over the phone that Khushi hadn’t reached yet. He had assumed that to mean that she must have been on her way and had rushed out, hoping to find some semblance of calm amidst the chaos of work.

 

The coffee was still untouched an hour later. He was leaning back against the recliner, his eyes closed, his form still, a slight frown on his forehead, the only indication of the restlessness within.  Her torso wrapped in the chiffon, the red of the saree paling in comparison to the alluring hue of her visage… he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her all night, he had been hypnotized. He was pretty sure he would have followed her off a cliff in that moment. The realization of his vulnerability in matters of Khushi jerked him back to his reality. He got up and moved to the poolside, hoping to rein-in his mind through gardening.  Arnav Singh Raizada was famed for his self-control, he prided himself on his savvy intellect, his famed ‘dimaag’, while the heart lay forgotten, somewhere deep inside, making very brief appearances in matters of Di. Khushi, somehow, had brought the flutter of his heart back. From the instant she fell in his arms; her eyes glassy, her lips quivering and her hands looped around him; his heart had made its presence known. The constant ache to possess her had followed close behind.

 

He had always been rather free with her; pushing her, pulling her, grabbing her, holding her… even marking her. He had been able to justify it all, to himself at least, in the name of anger. And so, he embraced the anger, with all its volatility, any excuse to touch her… Last night had shattered the pretence though, and his desire for her lay bare… unabashed and bare. It had to be his obsession with red, the colour was probably a siren’s call for him, it beckoned his maleness… And red on her, magnified his obsession beyond measure... It was the siren singing his favorite Sinatra song, exclusively for him. The pull was undeniable. He found himself facing the wall where he had held her captive a few hours back, imprisoned himself by her allure. His fingers traced the empty wall, willing the moment back, wishing a do-over. ‘What would you do different Arnav? Stop yourself from taking that first step in her direction or… or complete what had remained unfinished?’ The answer stunned him.

 

He would have kissed her, and she would have let him. The slight shiver of her frame, her downcast eyes, the quivering lips, had all been signs of her coyness, some slight hesitation even. At the slightest hint of reluctance; he would have stopped. But when she had met his gaze, in her eyes he had seen her permission, a plea… an invitation. The memory of her softness lay embedded in his flesh, his fingers could still feel her touch, the image of her delicate form caged within his arms was still fresh in his mind. Frustrated, he threw away the watering-pot, hoping to get rid of the unrest within. It didn’t. Why couldn’t he stop himself? Why didn’t she stop him?

 

“Chote, what happened? I heard a loud noise? Is everything okay?” His Di had barged in with a barrage of questions, forcing him out of his reverie. She saw the discarded vessel and temporarily calmed down. Arnav moved back to his room, hoping to avoid any conversation with his Di.

 

“Chote, why are you so distressed? Did something happen at work?” concern for her brother evident in her tone.

“I am fine di.” He answered, looking at his laptop, hoping she didn’t hear the remnants of the tornado brewing inside him in his voice.

“If you say so.” She relinquished rather easily; the touch of worry still intact though. She started to leave, then halted, turning back at the door she asked, “Did Khushi ji or Payal ji call you today?” The note of apprehension was palpable now.

“No. Why are you asking? Didn’t she come for work today?” he asked getting up from the recliner. His posture, alert.

“No. Payalji had called this morning, asking about her. She was really worried. I assumed Khushiji was meeting Lavanya at the office or something, since she had said she’d need to go there for a few hours this morning, so I gave her Lavanya and your numbers, I had thought she would have called.” She seemed really worried now.

“Di, please relax. I will call and check.” Arnav tried to calm his sister, while still feeling increasingly distraught himself. He called the next second but got no response.

“Anjali bitiya, please come to my room.” They heard Nani calling, probably from her room.

“Di, you go and check on Nani, I’ll try to call again. And don’t worry, I am sure everything is fine.”  The panic in his voice said otherwise.

“Chotey, I…”

“Anjali bitiya” Nani called again.

“Okay Chotey, keep calling. And let me know the instant you hear something.” He promised and she left.

 

She had tried calling him a couple of times during the day but he had wilfully ignored all attempts at contact.  He didn’t want to talk to her, not when he knew that the volcanic emotions within him would make him say something hurtful and humiliating, once again breaking her heart… And his. After all, just last night he had obliterated her very existence, calling her a gold-digger again, claiming their moment held no meaning, that she meant nothing…and worst of all, he had attacked her at her weakest.  He had been cruel to her, there was no other way to put it. He had seen the hurt in her eyes when he had announced his engagement, he had witnessed her struggle as she attempted to gather the broken bits of her spirit, her dignity, while feeding mithai to his family at this ‘happy’ occasion. She even had the sugar-free ones for him, she always did. He should have left her alone, given her time to build her self back up again, as she always did. Any other day, he probably would have. Last night though, he felt guilty and threatened, all at once, and so he had cornered her, like a mad dog, clawing at the tattered pieces of her dignity. Arnav Singh Raizada hated himself in that moment and in every moment since.

A couple more busy-tones and non-responses later, Arnav was getting agitated. The phone was still ringing when he rushed out of the house and to his car. As he pulled the door open, someone picked-up the call.

“Hello Khushi. Khushi? Hello? SOMEONE SPEAK DAMMIT!” He barked at the lack of response from the other side. The line wasn’t dead as he could hear people speaking at the other end.

“Hello Khushi, I…” he halted midway as the voices on the other end became slightly more audible and he heard her name.

“What has Khushi ever done to you? Why couldn’t you show her just a little kindness.” Was that her sister? He vaguely recalled her screaming at him when he had dropped an unconscious Khushi home. Of course, it had to be her. He tried to focus on the voices while starting the engine.

“Payaliya, I didn’t mean for her… I mean, I thought she wanted this.” Buaji sounded guilty.

“After she had explicitly expressed multiple times that she didn’t want to get engaged to Shyamji?”

‘What! Khushi’s engagement! What the hell was going on? Why didn’t he know of this? And who is this Shyam? She had never mentioned a Shyam.’ The information, the realization, the questions had resulted in a physical shudder. He could not and would not imagine Khushi with someone else… “Mine” the primal being had once again reared its ugly head.

“Bitiya, Shyam babua would have been a great match for her…” buaji seemed unconvinced herself and a male voice spoke in her stead,

“Payalji, it’s just early wedding jitters,  I am sure, in time, she would have wholeheartedly accepted the arrangement.” The voice tried to persuade, while not sounding convinced himself. And had he heard this voice somewhere? Did he know of any other Shyams? He didn’t have time to organize his thoughts as Payal all but screamed.

“She doesn’t love you Shyamji, why is it so difficult for you to understand?” there was silence. When Payal spoke again she sounded wrecked, “My sister never wanted much in life, but she did want love… Khushi wanted to marry for love, and buaji you wouldn’t even allow that. The threats, the emotional blackmail… did you not see her face last night? This family broke her. And now… now she is gone.”

Arnav panicked. ‘Gone? Where?’

“Hello? Hello? Anyone there?” he screamed into the phone and someone finally answered.

“Hello Arnav ji, sorry I didn’t realize you were on the phone.” It was Khushi’s mother on the line.

“Can I speak with Khushi?” He was blunt, pleasantries take time and he didn’t have any.

“Ji, we had tried calling you, but then we found her letter. Khushi… Khushi is gone.” And she broke, sobbing out loud.

Arnav disconnected the call as he entered Khushi’s lane in Lakshmi Nagar. He couldn’t console anyone now, not even outwardly. He had to get there and talk to someone, get the relevant details as soon as possible. He had to find her. Khushi couldn’t just leave… she couldn’t leave him. Didn’t she know , he couldn’t breathe…

He was lurched back to reality as he neared her house and saw someone leaving.

“What was jeejaji doing here?” Arnav wondered out loud.

                         ***********************************

AN: Thanks for reading. See you soon with the final part. 

Love

Srija :)    

The Diwali of Decisions... An ArHi Fiction

 AN: Hi everyone. I recently re-watched the etire first season of IPKKND (probably for the fourteenth time) and felt inspired to write again after almost 5 years. 

So this is set after the 'almost kiss' diwali episode. Khushi is back home, dazed and confused; Arnav has announced his engagement with Lavanya ; and Khushi is pressured into agreeing to get engaged with Shyam. This is where this Three shot takes off. Hope you like it.

AN2: This work of fiction is a work of my creative process, so please respect my copyright over this original content.

                                                The Diwali of Decisions

                                 

                                 Khushi's Conundrum

‘Who was this broken woman staring back at her?’ As if on instinct she turned back, hoping to find someone behind her. She was alone. She looked into the mirror again, and a pale face with hazel-brown eyes looked back at her. She had scrubbed her face clean of the little make-up she had applied for the Diwali party, but a thin line of slightly faded kohl still framed her eyes. People often said she had beautiful eyes, and even the extreme tiredness within and the slight shadows underneath couldn’t mar their sublime beauty. Only, the mirth was gone.

 

Payal shifted in her sleep and the rustle of her blanket pulled Khushi back to her reality. She moved to her side of the bed and checked to see if her sister was comfortably wrapped and warm. She was. The bed looked cozy and she was tired, but she decided against getting in. She knew sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight, a lot had happened and she needed to take stock of the day. She needed jalebis.

 

She dimmed the light of her room and moved to the kitchen. Some twenty minutes later she was sitting on the stairs in their backyard, a cup of scalding hot tea and a small platter of jalebis by her. The red saree she had worn to the party at Shantivan was loosely hanging from one of the ropes tied across the yard. She had looked pretty in it… no, she looked beautiful… his eyes had conveyed that to her.

 

He had been kind to her these past few days, charming even. He didn’t scream at her when she broke his favorite vase, instead, he took the blame and even assuaged her guilt by claiming it was just fine… nothing special. He had even paid the hospital bills for her Babuji's treatment, without her ever asking for any help. She also knew how difficult it was for him to be emotionally available, and yet he had been there, for her. The Lad governor was slowly turning into her Rajkumar, and that metamorphosis had terrified her… and maybe even excited her? The acceptance of this excitement had been nudging at her and she had closed her heart to it… well, she had honestly tried to, but some of it had seeped in.

 

She realized she had been fingering the payal on her right ankle all this while, and she was reminded of his hands there, his touch… so innocent and yet the most intimate one of her life. She had felt his fingers linger, a fraction of a second longer than absolutely necessary, and she shivered, again. She wanted to know why he had it? Why he had held on to it? But Arnav Singh Raizada didn’t answer questions, especially not those asked by a woman of her ‘aukaat’. She wondered if he had thought of her aukaat when he had looked into her eyes… when he had taken those first steps towards her? She shivered at the mere memory of the moment.

As the cool November air hit her, the shivers intensified. She pulled her dupatta tight around her form. Why didn’t she say anything? Why didn’t she ask him to stop? He would have, she knew that.  She had wanted to, she told herself... Only, when their eyes had met, she glimpsed something in his… No, it wasn’t love. She had seen desire…  Unmasked, unhinged and raw desire. It should have scared her, it should have snapped her out of that timeless bubble and back to three-dimensional reality, only… Only she knew his eyes were simply mirroring hers’. She was hesitant and terrified. She had gripped her saree in hopes of getting a grip on herself. But all she could hear was heartbeats… Hers? His? She couldn’t say. And the flutter at the very core of her being had consumed her. So, when his fingers caressed her face, she had leaned into his touch. And when she felt his breath on her lips, she had waited…

‘Waited for what Khushi? What were you waiting for?’ She hesitated. Accepting the truth, even to herself, would make her wantonness too real, and the Lucknow in Khushi wouldn’t allow that.  But she couldn’t hide anymore, not when in her heart she knew, that had she not clutched her saree and restrained herself, she would have reached for him… She had wanted his kiss.

The realization shook her. She stood up and started pacing along the corridor, the concern for the discomfort of her family members fast asleep in the adjoining rooms, suddenly forgotten. What was she doing? What did it all mean? He had said it didn’t mean anything… that she shouldn’t dream beyond her means. What had she expected him to say? Was it even possible to name their relationship? Could their momentary loss of judgement qualify as a relationship at all, even a nameless one? No, a relationship was what he now had with Lavanya ji, they were engaged to be married, as was she with Shyam ji. Both Lavanya ji and Shyam ji had only ever shown her kindness and this is how she was showing her gratitude? By betraying their trust! When did she become this despicable a human?  How could she let that fleeting moment of passion blind her to every other relationship in her life? This had to stop, right away.

Well, he was engaged to Lavanya ji and everyone in the family had happily accepted their relationship, so her work there was done. It was simple then, she would just never step a foot inside Shantivan, ever again. Problem solved, right? Only, their recent history would say otherwise… It didn’t matter how far or fast she runs in the opposite direction, she would eventually find herself in his arms.  She couldn’t risk it, not anymore, there was too much at stake. And then there was the question of Shyam ji. He was a decent man and deserved someone truthful and honest and loving, and regardless of how hard she tried, she couldn’t see herself ever feeling anything for him… ever loving him, like a wife should her husband.

The last few months had passed-by in a flash, from her Jiji’s broken heart to her father’s paralysis, so much had happened. When did she find the time to weave this web? How could she let everything get so messy? Will she ever be able to sort everything out?

Midnight blue had given way to a much lighter shade and even that was now rimmed by a slight orange, as the first rays of morning light were attempting to pierce through the veil of darkness. Her decision made, she headed back inside. Khushi knew what she had to do…

AN: Thanks for reading this. Please do let me know if you liked it. Part 2 of this three shot (TS) will be published in the next couple of days. 

Arhi FF, Chamkili. Part- 15A. 'Chamkili on Honeymoon'

AN: Okay guys, first of all a little confession, well, I kind of suck at writing intimate scenes, so please be a little kind. However, whatever I have written, I did enjoy writing though I do hope to het as good as some other writers on the forum, some day... Anyway do give it a read and let me know what you thought of it. This one is all Arhi :)

Chamkili on Honeymoon…

Part 15A.

Some Light was seeping inside the room through very narrow slits in the carefully drawn curtains. It was as if she had decided that it won’t adhere to the arrogant wishes of self-assuming humans who thought that could deny her entry at mere whim. Well, she did have to thank Curtains though, her partner in crime. She wondered why humans were so foolish; flaunting what was worthless and even ugly and hiding the eternally beautiful. They fought wars, massacred lives and spilled blood, gloriously unabashed and yet concealed the glory of love in the pits of darkness. No, she was having none of it. If they were arrogant fools then she was an adamant bitch. How dare they deny her the pleasure of watching love at its rawest, crudest… best? How could she ever miss this sight of her small feminine frame encased within his larger masculine one? This was what helped her endure the forever, she was cursed with. She saw his possessive hold around her pliant waist and the look of contentment on her face as she laid there with her face buried in his chest. Her pale skin, tinged with saffron wrapped around his slightly tanned and work roughened form. Light beamed happily and brightly… well a little too brightly perhaps…

Khushi opened her eyes as the bright rays pierced through her shut lashes and she felt the warmth. This warmth, had nothing to do with the sun; no it’s the warmth one feels when they are surrounded by love, and the man whose love was surrounding her, seemed hell bent on suffocating her as well, if his tight hold around her was anything to go by. She smiled indulgently at the blatant possessiveness of her husband and took in the musky scent that was him. His scent mixed with hers, a reminder too potent of their amour, their love and its expression. The saffron tinge increased just a little around her face and neck as she thought back to their expression of love, not too long ago. She smiled and shifted a little so that she could take a closer look at his face. His hold was unyielding, reluctant to let go even a little bit. The child-like innocence on his face seemed so deceptive, almost incongruent to the man who had not too long ago made her whimper and groan and moan and even scream. Her shaitaan Raj-kumar. She smiled at the thought and with as little movement as possible; she maneuvered her body such that with her chin lying on his chest, very near the cleft between his shoulder-blades, she got a very clear and uninterrupted view of his face; every feature, every mole, every pore and every freckle was there in clear sight of her vision.

She wondered how long it had been since she had been engrossed in studying his face. He frowned a little and she found herself wondering at what must be bothering him, for that bothered her as well. The reason turned out to be the same playful beam of light that had not too long ago beamed brightly at her. She wondered what she could do about it. No one and nothing had the right to bother her Laad Governor, well besides her of course. Wriggling out of his hold was impossible without waking him up, she tried shading his face by her hand but that shameless intruder found her way around the wife’s dainty hands, also the position was a little uncomfortable and tiring, and then it struck her…  

Arnav Singh Raizada was in for a pleasant surprise once he opened his eyes. His beautiful and absolutely naked wife was lying half atop him, her hair falling as a curtain, separating them from the rest of the world and into a cocoon that they… nah, that she had managed to create for them. And her eyes, those hazel flavored pools of chocolate were staring right into his own with such love that he couldn’t help but thank that deity he didn’t believe in for bringing this angle in his life. If left to his own devices, he would have done a brilliant job at pushing her away, not that he had let any stone un-turned anyway. If not for her Devi... nah, if not for Khushi’s own love, goodness and faith, he would have pushed away his only chance at happiness, without even realizing what he was losing. These thoughts of woulds and coulds made his chest constrict in pain. She must have seen the pain flit across his eyes, for the next moment he found her lips taking his in a deep, soulful kiss, coveying in her own unique way that they were meant to be… anyways and always. He smiled at the thought and that made Khushi break the kiss and look up at him, searchingly. He just shook his head and then once again took her lips in for another delicious kiss, taking charge this time.

Holding her by the nape of her neck and encircling her waist with his free hand, he pushed her on her back without breaking the kiss for even a second. Her fingers were lost in the lushness of his hair, pulling him closer still, as if the space to even breathe was needed less than his nearness. He broke the kiss and she moaned her displeasure. Trying to pull him back to her, she opened her eyes when she felt slight resistance on his part. What she saw, made her breath hitch, his eyes were fixed on her form and looking down at herself, she discovered that the thin barrier shielding her form from her husband’s hungry gaze had come undone long back. Suddenly feeling conscious of her scandalous posture, she slowly brought her hands to her chest, protecting her modesty the best she could by crossing her hands across her chest, she turned away from her husband… unwittingly offering him her gloriously naked back.    

This nymph of a woman never ceased to surprise him and he loved every moment it. Just a moment ago she was kissing him with such enthusiasm that only lovers can boast of and pulling him to her with such desperation that only lovers suffer from. And in mere seconds she had transformed herself into an elusive, coy virgin.  His Khushi was a magician. His hand moved her hair further to the side and then the tips of his fingers touched her at the base of her spine. His touch was welcomed by a hiss of unbearable pleasure. His fingers traced the expanse of her back, gently… very gently moving towards her shoulders, playing her body like a flute and her body responded to his touch, dancing to his tune… like always. 

His gentle touches were the toughest to endure. She squirmed in want and restlessness, the feeling of being there and yet not quite... Upon finally reaching her shoulder, Arnav paused to pepper random kisses around her nape and back. He lightly bit the juncture between her neck and shoulders and she hissed in pleasurable pain. Gently licking the spot, he soothed the pain while keeping the pleasure alive. What he was unaware of, however, was that at that moment it was pleasure that was unbearably torturous for his currently high-strung wife. And yet when he tried pulling her back to him, he felt slight resistance from her. Of course he knew that it was more out of a sense of societal propriety than any genuine unwillingness on her part. He bit her right ear-lobe and she hissed again clutching the bed-sheet more firmly, trying and failing miserably at reigning in her natural wantonness. Middle-class inhibitions invading the privacy of bed-rooms was not really an unheard of scenario. And yet, Arnav Singh Raizada had just as much respect for the norms of societal propriety as sun had for man made digital watches.

“Oh come-on Khushi, it’s not like I haven’t seen all this before. In fact sex is a part of our everyday routine now.” She heard his frustrated complaint but couldn’t see the teasing glint in his eyes and of course as Arnav had mentally  predicted, she turned to him in a flash. Her naked glory facing him, all thoughts of proper and improper lost.

“Kya! To yeh sab aapke liye sirf routine hai?” she asked hurt. “Waise it is all my fault. Despite knowing you so well I still fell in love with the Laad Governor, so how can I complain now. Of course having se… I mean loving me is just like watching that blasted business channel for you. Laad Governor kahin ke! Why Devi Maiya, why me. Did you not like all the jalebis I served you as prasad for the last nineteen years of my life, that now my husband thinks that se… I.. I mean love is just a part of his routine...” Khushi continued with her rambling and Arnav sat there both amused and painfully aroused. Khushi, angry and naked, all at the same time was too good an opportunity to let go of. And so without alerting her, he moved his face closer to her breast. She felt his hot breath around her nipples and they pebbled almost instantaneously, her inhibitions back. But Arnav wasn’t going to give her another chance to back off and so firmly grasping her hands with his, he pushed those back into the sheet and then looking into her eyes said,

“loving you is as much a part of my routine as breathing is.” And without waiting for another moment, he had taken a round, alluring, juicy, nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth…He would never get enough of it and he was pretty sure that she had no complaints. 

AN: Hey Guys! I hope you liked the update and if you did, please do make it a point to go back on the IF thread and press the like tab under the update, it would really mean a lot to me. Secondly, there are two more pure Arhi honeymoon updates left, so keep watching this space for that. And finally, there is a poll on the top right hand corner of this, please participate there for which ever story wins the poll  shall be updated next and too within 5 days. :) Do drop in your comments on the update, I always wait for it. Oh, and in the fist section of the update, I have used the literary technique of personification and it is the voice of Light that you hear in the first section. :)

Lots of love,

Srija :)

Arhi SS: Untouched. Part 3.

                                      

AN: Hi guys! So I am finally back with another update of Untouched. The reason I am writing this note is that I have decided to convert Untouched into an SS, though earlier I had intended it to be a TS. Well, the thing is when I start writing as in actually start typing at my system, the story gets out of my hand and starts weaving itself and so it very often happens that my stories start as something but end up being something very different. So, my apologies,  but try and bear with this one for a bit longer. I promise, it won't be very long.

                           Untouched

                               Part 3

He didn’t know how he ended up there, right by her side… her angelic face just a touch away, the temptation growing stronger with every heartbeat. And as the rhythm of his heart pulsed beyond control, so did his fingers, now feathering the contours of her face, both past any rhyme or reason. As he felt the silk of her skin under the tip of his fingers he was reminded of Coleridge’s immortal verse, “Water, water, everywhere,/ Nor any drop to drink.” He could finally relate to the Mariner and all those sailors… dying of lack of something that was in abundance and at an arm’s length… thirsting for water… while being surrounded by it. Ah! The mockery life makes of us mere mortals. Here he was less than a breath separating him from all he desired, all he thirsted for, all he was dying for… and yet he knew he was destined to die with parched lips and scorched soul. Lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice the slight frown lines marring the smoothness of her forehead and the next moment he was looking deep into those shining pools of hazel. And once again he was thrown back in time…

--------------------------------------------

Arnav Singh Raizada was known for his very and at times dangerously practical approach towards everyone and everything in life. Every single idea that he conceived took months of mulling over before any real action happened. Every complexity and contraction; adversary and adversity had to be taken in account. In fact, at times it seemed like he was challenging fate by taking his life in his own hands, disregarding the presence of anything external and unrelated. And that was his mistake, for don’t they say, ‘don’t tempt fate’. Well, fate retaliated and in the last few hours he found himself desiring the woman he couldn’t have; breaking his relationship with the woman he could have but didn’t want, not anymore and probably never had; willingly occupying the spot that had been vacated… nah, rejected not too long ago; and willingly taking the woman who had very recently fallen from the state of societal grace for no fault of her own. And right now he stood waiting for her… waiting to hold her in his arms… to finally touch her and claim her… mark her as his territory. And that was how Khushi found him when she entered the room, leaning against the window, his posture calm as ocean but a tsunami stirring in his eyes…Waiting… Waiting for their wedding night to finally begin.

She had all but stumbled inside, as if someone had forced her in… as if she would be anywhere but here at that moment. She had looked at him once and then turned around moving towards the door; the door had been shut the very next moment and locked from outside it seemed. And so she stood frozen. Her back was turned towards him and so he could not see her face. But the stiffness of her posture screamed her displeasure, her discomfort at being forced to share her intimate space with him. Discomfort and displeasure were very very mild terms to express what Khushi was feeling at the moment and Arnav was to discover that soon. He took a step towards her and then stopped as she had turned towards him, alarm evident in her big innocent eyes. The way she had clutched the sides of her very ornate lehenga and stumbled taking a few hurried steps back towards the closed door had nothing to do with the nervousness of a bashful new bride. No, it was the naked fear of being chased by a predator or worse, being trapped with one… for the next seven lives.

The fear that came with the realization that tonight she was a dish that would soon be devoured by her husband… a dish… that is what she was, to be traded for fortune and served for honor and devoured for pleasure. And all this for others, after all who ever gave a single thought to the dish, or showed any concern about how it might feel… for dishes were not supposed to feel. Not the deer satiating the hunger of a lion, not the chicken kabab gracing a nawabs banquet and not the meager serving of mashed potatoes in front of a tired rag-picker. She saw a similar hunger stirring in the eyes of her husband of a few hours, a man she hadn’t even known existed before tonight.

_______________________

Khushi looked at her husband of one year. The hunger was there again, the hunger that made her feel like she was some exotic foreign dish that her husband ate with so much relish at those numerous parties. What was it called? Ah, Lazania, yes that was what he loved. She had tried learning the recipe from Miss Julie, her English tutor but the final product had been a little to dry at first and a little too gooey finally and so she had just dumped it in the dustbin, never letting her husband get even a whiff of her adventure with the foreign delicacy. She remembered seeing that hunger in his eyes when their eyes had first met, while she was sitting beside Shyam on their wedding alter… She remembered seeing it when she had first entered her room that night as an unrecognizable outsider, as Mrs. Khushi Singh Raizada… The hunger was still there and she would get a glimpse of it every now and then, sometimes when he was lost in his thoughts and sometimes when he thought she wasn’t looking. But it was too strong, too tangible to go unnotice. And it was in those moments, those scarce stolen moments when she thought, nah, she knew that she still existed in his world, that she was an actual tangible part of it. Mostly it just felt like no one really noticed her.

She saw a flicker of sudden realization in his eyes and then he had straightened, distanced himself from her. Taking her cue from it she too stood up and then turned towards the kitchen to heat up the food. The heat between them hung there, unmentioned, untampered, and untouched… but there. He saw her toe as she turned towards the kitchen and noticed that she had painted it red today. It was the first thing he had noticed about her, well the only thing that he could have seen of a woman who was another man’s intended, a red painted toe peeking at him invitingly from under her bridal ensemble and he knew it then that he was a goner. But then, fate had played its twisted game and the next he saw her toes playing peek-a-boo with him was when he had already marked her his, well at least according to the societal conventions he had. Arnav, however, believed in the more primal system of markings…

_________________

The slight shivering of her fragile form and the naked horror of hopelessness in her eyes pierced through the shroud of madness that had engulfed him for the night and for the very first time that night Arnav saw Khushi for what she really was, a lost terrified child. A sixteen year old, who was not even considered eligible for giving her consent to the silliest of decisions like whether or not Congress should form the central government, no, she’d have to wait another two years to cast her vote and yet, she was married. Everyone but her, had been involved in taking the biggest decision of her life, a life that was still getting accustomed to the rhythm of breathing… and was now reduced to the bare mechanics of it.

________________

Her whispery movements brought him back to the huge antique oak-wood dining-table, that looked like it could belong no where else but in that huge antique Raizada           drawing-room. She was busy arranging the various smaller bowls in his plate and then serving liberal portions of curry, dal and sugar-free kheer in them, alongside plain rice and ghee-less rotis. He knew that she knew he would be removing a lot of it from his plate to the extra plate she had kept near his (which he was sure she had kept there for the same reason). And somehow the fact that she always served him the formal liberal quota of food despite being aware of his appetite clearly pronounced the distance in their socially approved and assumed intimacy. She sat beside him and started serving food on her plate. The Raizadas didn’t approve of this sort of companionship and camaraderie between husbands and wives, but Arnav had remained adamant and Khushi had bowed… she anyway had to bow, this way or that. Just like she had had to that night… their wedding night…  

To be continued...

Hope to see your reactions on this one, any and all forms of it are more than welcome.

Love,

Srija Singh :)

Very Important Notice!

Hey Guys!
Okay, so I personally hate it when some very awesome story writers wake up one morning and decide to make their blogs private or semi-private, as in open to some select people only and half the time I have no idea about how to approach these very talened and equally elusive authors and I have to give-up very unwillingly on some of these fantastic stories. Now, I know that I already put my readers through a lot of trouble with my very late updates and then recently by moving from India Forums to this blog exclusively. And so, I wanted to give all my lovely readers a prior notice that there is a very high cahnce that I might be turning my blog into a semi-private thing as well. So, if you want to continue reading my stories please send me your email ids and I'll invite you to the blog once I make it private. You can mail me your ids or PM it to me on IF or just post it under this notice.

Okay, now I do owe you guys an explaination about these changes. The thing is that recently I got to know that one of my stories, 'Shahib, Biwi aur Dusri Aurat' has been published in a bengali newsletter called 'Ebela'. Now, though it has been published under my name, yet, the happening has opened my eyes to the risks of plagerism and these things are just some precautionary and protective measures that I should have taken a long time ago.

Now, a little request (especially to my Bengali readers, I am assuming there are a few.), if you do happen to find the copy of Ebela with my story under my name on it, please let me know. Also, apparently the names of the characters have been changed, so just keep this little thing in mind. Guys, this is a big deal for me and I am desperately trying to find the newsletter but have not been successful yet. So, need some help here. Please help me out.

Loads of love,
Srija Singh.

PS: Just keep a look-out for my other stories as well, if you happen to come across these anywhere but on IF or my blog, just inform me, that would be a great help.

Arhi SS: Highway to Hell. Part 2.

                                  Highway to Hell

                                    

                                   Part 2

                                                         

It took her another few seconds to realize that his hand still rested on the curve of her waist and staring in her eyes he seemed completely oblivious to it. She gave another smile and then moved her hitherto fixed on him gaze to the conjunction where his slightly dark hand was molded around her olive colored waist. Following hers, his gaze also came to stop at the erotic sight and enamored by it, his brain took a few seconds longer to register the inappropriateness of it, at which point he finally took his hand off her, a little too reluctantly though.

“I am sorry.” He said in a straight voice.

“Why?” she asked in a husky tone, a loop-sided smile and the quirk of an eyebrow followed. Her eyes twinkling like a novice’s who had just had his first taste to heroin.

He frowned at her and she wondered if she glimpsed anger mixed with slight discomfort in his eyes. ‘Was he judging her? Did he belong to the group of men who believe that sensuality was a whorish trait and than only sluts smiled at strangers? Well, she had to admit that it was a possibility for such men were in majority in… well everywhere. Did he know her father?’ Her thoughts were running at the speed of infinity per second but it was at the last thought that she finally panicked. ‘For god’s sake what the hell was wrong with her? She was at her house, at her sister’s engagement and was blatantly flirting with a stranger. She needed to do some damage control right that moment.’

“I… I mean you saved me, I should be thanking you for that and here you are apologizing for no reason.” she offered him a shy smile. When he still seemed off, she wondered if the damage done was irreversible. ‘What if he discloses their little adventure to her dad? Will she be forced to get married to some mamma’s boy in the same mandap as her Jiji? Will she do it?’ It was a fact universally acknowledged that Khushi’s imagination competed with light for a speed championship and that no clear winner had been announced in the last twenty-two years. Was that about to change now, for in the next moment she pictured her self wrapped in a red saree, sitting demurely next to a faceless man, while Payal sat adjacent to her in a similar red saree and with a similar faceless man.

“I… I was wondering if you are from the bride’s side or the groom’s side?” she tried to initiate small talk once again but her slight stammering gave away her obvious nervousness… well, obvious to him at least. He was a smug smart man, the two titles often competing for precedence. And finally he bestowed a loop-sided smirk on her.

“Well, neither actually, miss?”

“Khushi. Khushi Gupta.” She replied, trying to reign in her frayed nerves. He smiled in acknowledgement and gaining a little courage from that she continued,

“Yes, actually I am the bride’s sister. But you never introduced your self.”

“I am the manager of the firm that is catering for the event.” He smiled in a polite manner and Khushi let out a sigh of relief. And of course, nothing went unnoticed by him.

“Pardon me, I don’t mean to pry, but I couldn’t help but overhear what you were saying just now. He must be a terrible person whoever he is, I am sure. And I am not sure, but I thought you were referring to your sister’s fiancé. I was just wondering that if he is so wrong for her then how and why exactly is this wedding happening?” His voice laced with sincerity… over flowing with it in fact.

Khushi belonged to that sub species of humans who weaved stories… Nah, she loved to weave stories around anyone and anything that had the misfortune of crossing paths with her. Nothing out of ordinary there! The crazy bit was, she also belonged to that little sub-sub-section who voiced… nah, loved to voice their crazy stories. And so when the opportunity presented itself, she decided to go for one of her crazy rides and take the deliciously handsome stranger with her. This was going to be fun. But, of course she had no idea how much.

“You see Mr.?”

“Singh.”

“Yeah, so you see Mr. Singh, I should not be telling you this but then there is absolutely no one with whom I can talk about this and keeping it inside is getting just so difficult, in fact impossible with every passing day.” Khushi turned away from him and then sighed dramatically before continuing further.

“But for some reason I just cannot hold it back anymore and don’t they say that at times it is so much better to talk to strangers, to open yourself up to someone distant for those who know you just don’t care or even want to understand.” She added a slight sniff as a prelude to her story.

“Mr. Raizada.” He arched his brow at her in question. Khushi wondered if she had seen some shock there initially. But not giving it a second thought, she just continued without missing a beat.

“Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada, my Jiji’s fiancé.” She said in a way of expaination.

“Oh, right!”

“He saw my Jiji at a golgappa stall last week and lost his mind.” Khushi gave a dramatic pause, expecting the handsome stranger to say something. But the fact that he didn’t did nothing to dishearten her and she continued,

“I don’t blame him, my Jiji is exceptionally beautiful and anyone can fall for her. But there is a limit to any kind of madness and this man… he has crossed every limit imaginable. First, he pursued my Jiji and asked her out, but she politely denied him. Then, he went to my parents and asked for her hand in marriage and my Jiji begged him to leave her alone and that she was in a relationship with Jai and yet, this stone of a man pursued her relentlessly. He even went to the extent of purchasing majority shares in my Dad’s firm and then blackmailed my family with it.” She once again halted, stifling a little sniff in her duppatta and then turned her back to him.

“What choice did she have? She, in fact all of us had to bend to the manipulations of that vile man. Bloody uncleji!” At that she once again turned towards her singular and singularly handsome audience. Her voice laced with anger and yet, the mischievous twinkle didn’t escape Mr. Singh’s sharp eyes.

“I offer my condolences, Miss Gupta. I am sure he must be a very despicable man, your Jiji’s fiancé, your Brother-in-law. What did you say his name was?”

“ASR” Arnav… Khushi was unable to finish as another voice overlapped with hers.

“Arnavji!”

Payal came to stand right beside her and Khushi took a moment to comprehend that Payal had taken the name of ‘he who shouldn’t be named’… well at least not with such respect and tenderness. And where was he anyway? Payal was not the shouting types, she was very soft spoken, so Khushi craned her neck and looked around nearby, analyzing every face in the vicinity and yet, no one seemed to fit the image that she had created and so she looked at her sister for some hint when she saw her looking at someone. And following her gaze… her eyes finally met his… for the second time that evening… a hazy barrier between hazel greens and chocolate browns… the haze cleared and realization dawned… 

Loads of love,

Srija :)

Arhi FF: Chamkili. Part 13- 'A Plan and Another Plan'

                                Chamkili

                                                Part-13       

  A Plan and Another Plan...

Sheetal looked around her new apartment. It was an apartment with two bedrooms, a drawing room and a spacious kitchen. The apartment was more than just decent, lying some where between decently spacious and well furnished to luxurious but subtly so, not the blatant grandness of Shantivann. She liked it in fact. The only problem was it lacked something or rather someone crucial. There would be time to dwell over her miseries soon, but at the moment she needed to be focused on the little boy who was slumped on the couch, uninterested in his surroundings… lost in fact. That’s not how an eight year old responds to a new house.

Sheetal had struggled her way through motherhood. There was no lover to hold her hand in the delivery room as she screamed and cried. There were no mothers or mother-in-laws to guide her through it… to tell her that she needs to support her baby’s head while holding him. There were no sisters and sister-in-laws to tell her that when an infant cried it didn’t always mean he was hungry… no one to whisper soothing words in her ears when her baby got his first anti-viral shot… or to accompany her to his school for his first PTA meeting. No, she had to learn everything on her own. She was just thankful that Aarav was not a very difficult child. Even as an infant, he would only cry and seek her attention when in utter discomfort. And as he grew, he learnt to live by himself as well. He wouldn’t fight with the other kids in the park and then run over to her for protection. He wouldn’t cry in front of her when other kids would hit him or whine to make her read him a bed-time-story. He wouldn’t ask his mother to take an off on his birthday and bake him a chocolate cake or to take him to Disney-land. No, he understood her situation, their situation and adapted to it. He had grown to be as independent a kid as he could be. And sometimes, like right now, Sheetal would look at her son, lost in his own world and wonder that if she disappeared right this moment would he even notice that she was gone? She still couldn’t find an answer and that unsettled her. Finally unable to take it anymore she headed to her room, a little physical distance was easier to handle than immeasurable emotional distance.
_____________________________________

“Whatever you say Khushi, I am fine with any destination you choose.” Arnav said as he opened a cabinet drawer in his office, searching for a file while speaking to his wife over the phone.

“Arnavji, please help me here, I don’t know anything about these things and on their online tourism pages every single destination promised to be heaven on earth.” Khushi said, A little irritation evident in her voice as her husband’s nonchalance had irked her a bit.

“Khushi, seriously just pick any place you like and I’ll arrange everything. Believe me it’s all the same, crowded beaches or swarming mountains; packed churches or crammed museums. Just pick any place and make it fast, I’ll have to give Aman instructions for arrangements.” He said, finally finding the file and then coming back to his desk.

“Arnavji, why are you being like this? I am taking so much pains for our holiday, scrolling through the internet pages and looking for authentic sources and asking people’s opinion and… Well, you know what, let’s just forget about. And anyway I have just started with my job and you are clearly too busy…” She couldn’t continue further as she felt a lump growing in her throat and she was pretty sure that those treacherous tears would soon betray her. She was about to disconnect the call when she heard his pleading voice.

“Khushi, Khushi listen to me, I didn’t mean it that way. The thing is just that these holiday destinations have always seemed quite tedious to me and believe me I really don’t have any specific preferences as such…” But he was cut short as his wife regaining her composure a little bit had cut in.

“It’s really okay Arnavji. I know you are a very busy man and I wouldn’t want to be a distraction of any sort. And I understand that what you said last night was probably just pillow talk and I took it too seriously (and made a fool of myself, she though to herself.). Don’t worry I won’t hold your words against you. It’s really fine.” Though hurt, she wanted to make the situation light.

“Khushi, you are getting me all wrong. Of course I want us to spend some time together alone and afar from the official or domestic environment. It’s just that all I really need is…” he paused for a bit and then his eyes held a teasing glint and the next he spoke his voice was husky and his tone teasing.

“… a comfortable room, a sturdy bed and YOU, sweetheart. These are the prerequisites, all else is manageable. Oh, and ground rules we won’t be spending much of our time outside the room so it really doesn’t matter where we go.” Arnav knew his magic was working as he could hear her heartbeats constantly accelerating, in complete sync with his… Hamesha.

“Arnavji… aap… hum… wo hum… wo.” Her cheeks were stained as was her nose, and if they didn’t give her away, the glazed look in her eyes would surely do the trick.

“Any questions Khushi?” He asked, his voice still husky and his tone dripping with mirth. “Well, let me elaborate, an AC because well, I am used to it. The bed has to be sturdy, because when we were barely warming up and testing the fields, we broke a bed, so now that things are really in action and the cricket match is on, we should be more careful. And finally, my dear wife, I need you… to ravish again and again and again, testing the sturdiness of the bed and challenging it. What do you say to that?” he smirked imagining the three Os on the face of his blushing bride.

“Arnavji please stop. We can’t talk about all this over the phone.” He heard her breathless plea.

“Baby, I haven’t even started yet. And believe me we can do a lot more over the phone.” He paused but as he had expected, he didn’t hear anything but her errant breathing. And the next moment she had disconnected the call. Arnav had a cocky smile on his face, proud of the fact that he could fluster her, arouse her so much even on the phone. Arnav made a mental note to call her more often; he enjoyed a flustered Khushi way too much to resist. He wondered what her response would be to dirty talking. He couldn’t wait to give her lessons on that.
_________________________________________

It had been more than a minute that Lavanya had entered Khushi’s cabin and she was still to notice that 5”6 figure standing right in front of her desk. The blush stained cheeks and glazed eyes told Lavanya more than she wanted to know and couldn’t help but smile a little at her Chamkili’s condition.

Well, Khushi had been working at Kala for over a week now, and though the initial response of everyone was very friendly, but since her husband had pulled that stunt in her office, things had gone pretty much down-hill from there. Lavanya was more than glad that she was there for Chamkili for except her everyone in the office was barely formal with her. Every single person openly distrusted her and was secretly jealous of her. Her team-mates were in fact worse than others, most of them barely speaking to her, and some even hostile to her. Khushi hadn’t said anything to anyone but Lavanya had taken things in her hand and given everyone except Celina James and Samay an earful. The external hostility had ceased then, but of course the impact was limited to external hostility only and that was an open secret. Celina and James though conscious of her were at least cordial and Samay, being the absolute delight that he was, was the only one who was genuinely friendly with her, helping her through all the obstacles of this professional world, when she wasn’t there. Despite all, she was happy for her friend because naivety, charming as it may seem, wasn’t really a thing to cherish for life. And the inhospitable circumstances at the office were in fact just what Khushi needed, to get a taste of the real world. She needed to know it for she would have to face it, if not today then tomorrow, so why delay the inevitable. And here at least Lavanya was there to guide her through all this. Their friendship had shone brighter than ever in these last few days. A girl-friend was definitely a must for every girl.

Deciding that she had waaited long enough and that it was time to snap Khushi out of it, she cleared her throat a little loudly and her Chamkili was back with her.

“Umm, Lavanyaji when did you come? I…I was just thinking about something… I mean some new designs. How about we design something in a combination of red and pink?” Khushi blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

“That’s a great idea Khushi…” Lavanya paused for a bit and saw Khushi in the process of exhaling a breath of relief and so quipped suddenly,

“Only, we already have two designs in the red and pink combination and to top it all it was already your idea.” Lavaya had a knowing smile on her face.

“Wo, Lavanya ji I… I was just thinking about… I wo…” Khushi was struggling to frame a coherent sentence and so Lavanya finally came to her rescue.

“Khushi, believe me I really don’t want to know what you a thinking about. Of course I do have a fair enough idea of what it might be, but I’d rather not scandalize my innocent mind with details, especially during the office hours.” Lavanya finished with a sly smile on her face and Khushi all but burned with embarrassment. Now, Lavaya would have loved to take thid=s forward but right now she was way too busy to continue. She hadn’t even had a mani-pedi this entire week so…

“Okay okay, now stop blushing, I have to tell you something important. Actually, the client meeting with that Spanish firm that was to happen today, it has been postponed to Monday and Mr. Kapoor said that the client has demanded that the entire designing team be present in the meeting. So, yeah that’s it. Okay then I’ll see your in the team meeting later. Bye” And saying that she turned and left.

Had she stayed even a second longer, she would have seen the blush disappear from Khushi’s face as it paled in shock. For, just about a minute ago Arnavji had called her to inform that their tickets to Paris were done and they would be leaving the next day for their week long holiday. Now, with the meeting on Monday, Khushi didn’t know what to do and worst of all she felt terrified imagining the ways Arnav might react to this new piece of information.
___________________________________________

Arnav felt like he was at the top of the world. Just the thought of spending an entire week with his wife in a far away country had him giddy with excitement. Not too long ago he had informed Khushi about their final bookings and had also like a thorough gentleman made her aware of all the plans that he had for their honeymoon and of course every single one involved her and a sturdy bed. Well, sturdy tables, chairs, shower stalls, walls and doors would also do, after all these were variables, she was the only constant in his life as well as his fantasies.

Someone knocked at the cabin door and he all but grumbled a very reluctant come-in. Sheetal walked in with a small smile on her face and after they had exchanged pleasantries, Sheetal then gave him some papers for his signatures. He was flipping through these papers, conscious to go through every single one of them, while having a light conversation with Sheetal about her new flat and Aarav. The last sheet remained now and Arnav frowned slightly as he wasn’t aware of what the paper said.

“Sheetal, what is this.”

“Oh sorry, I had thought that I would talk to you about it befor giving out the papers but I guess it just slipped my ming. Actually Arnav, I remember you saying that you wanted AR to focus extensively on its developing over-seas market and so when a friend of mine told me about this, I thought I might as well just ask you.”

Arnav was busy going through the paper. It was fairly simple Arnav decided as he picked up the pen. Well, of course he’d have to run a background check on this company before taking any final decisions and since the papers only required him to give his official permission for a formal presentation. He would go through the designs later, he decided. Well, he was absolutely sure of Sheetals capability as far as designing was concerned.

Sheetal collected the papers and then walked out of the room, now an evil smile on her face.

To be continued...
Love,
Srija :)