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 :)

New Arhi SS: Highway to Hell. Part 1.

           Highway to Hell…

Current Day:
It all happened in the expanse of one day, one bloody freaking awesome day. One fucking day fucked up her entire world

She wasn’t a bad person… or a bad sister… or a bad daughter… Or so she would have said… Nope not just said but actually believed with all her heart and mind up until this morning and everyone would have vouched for her, she was more than sure. Heck, they would vouch for her even now for they still lay wrapped in the warm cocoon of ignorance. Looking at the happy content faces of her mom and dad, she felt a sharp pang of envy and in that moment she had an epiphany, ignorance indeed was bliss, that Gray dude got this crap right after all. And all those people who advocated knowledge were bloody sadists. Well whatever, she had seen the light and there was no going back now. Khushi Gupta had made a deal with the Devil himself…

One Month Ago:

“Jiji, are you absolutely sure about this?” she stood there listening to whatever hr Jiji had to say and then continued.

“Jiji, promise me you are not doing this under any kind of pressure.”

“Okay Jiji, if you say so, I’ll just take your word for it... for now. Anyways I’ll be there in a weeks time, we’ll talk then and I want to know everything, such evasive lines wouldn’t do then, okay?” she kept her phone down and for the millionth time in the past month pondered over the name, Raizada. But there was nothing that she could do about it, not for a while at least, not from New-York.
-----------------------------------------------------------

One Week Ago:

It wasn’t until the next month that Khushi finally arrived at the Indira Gandhi International Airport. Her family was there to receive her however, she had also expected a certain Mr. Raizada to be there, after all wasn’t he her would be Jeejaji? And wasn’t he supposed to pamper her and win her favors and all that crap they showed in cheesy Bollywood movies. Was he really the Dickhead, her initial instinct had said he was? Well, she’ll find out now and pretty soon too, for now that she was in Delhi, where would he go? Or as they say, he could run but he could not hide. And if he was going to get married to her darling Jiji, then he’d have to impress a certain Khushi Kumari Gupta first. And with just one week left for their wedding she would have to be quick with both the planning and the execution.

It was time for their face-off finally, Khushi Kumari Gupta would soon meet Arnav Singh Raizada… a bloody sister stealer.

“What the hell is wrong with these people?” Khushi wondered for the millionth time in the space of just two hours. She could hardly believe that all the over-dramatic crap that she had only seen in Karan Johar’s and Yash Raj’s cinema {which btw, she was forced to watch, first by her Khan crazy sister and later by her best friend, NK, who was also well, a Khan maniac} was actually happening right in front of her eyes, in her own bloody house. “Why the hell was everything so pink and blue?” And the color theme that had been finalized for the wedding didn’t give her much respite either… “Red and gold… like really? Could it get anymore Ekta Kapoorish?” And then there were all these aunties and uncles, who had nothing better to do but try and fix her up with theirs sons or their son’s cousins or their son’s cousin’s cousin, well practically any single man in his mid twenties, who shared community ties with her. Khushi was tolerating all this madness for the only person whose big deer eyes and puppy-dog pout could get her to do practically anything… her elder sister Payal Gupta. And well, also there was this added motivation of meeting her Jeejaji, well actually the eagerness was melting a bit too fast since  this evening, a man who would agree for an arranged marriage and especially these bloody pink and blue drapes shouldn’t be all that hard to figure out.

She got a mock-tail from the bar. She wasn’t stupid enough to drink in front of her very puritanical parents, who had of course set up a bar on the occasion for what would the society people say otherwise, but would never in this life approve of their daughters even smelling it… typical! Hiding it was an option but then Khushi was not an addict, no, she knew how to keep things under control and so the risk out-weighing pleasure, made it a non-profitable option. Rebellion, on the other hand, though fine sometimes was mostly just stupid and Khushi for one always preferred the smart way. So, there she was, at the bar, swirling her drink and giving some final touches to that faceless image she had been building up the whole day. Her sister had outright denied her any pictures for she said it would build up the suspense. “Suspense my ass!” She mumbled irritably. Payal could really get on your nerves sometimes; she just hoped that the loser she was marrying could handle it. Well, Payal could deny her the picture, but Khushi had a very functional sense of logic and a very creative imagination which she put to work right that moment. 

‘Suits, well what was a business man without his suit; spectacles, probably square and gold-rimmed as of-course nothing portrayed intelligence and maturity better than a defective eye-sight; a little bit of a pouch, now didn’t it signify prosperity; and then the cherry on top, the widely prevalent and highly idealized ‘yes mom’ attitude, for who else would agree to such ridiculous color schemes.’ She didn’t realize when her silent contemplation turned into audible mumbling and neither did she notice the shadowy frame behind her.

“Jiji said he is 31, must be some uncleji type and of course, who else agrees to a marriage without even dating for a bit? Poor Jiji, Devi Maiya knows what she is settling for and she is so young, barely 24 and getting married to some bloody uncleji. So unfair!”  Khushi was busy grumbling and failed to notice the stern gaze narrowed on her. Lost in her thoughts, she also failed to see the slightly raised platform and tripped, expecting cold floor, she clenched her eyes but instead felt a warm presence around her.

She slowly opened her eyes. Sure she wasn’t falling anymore, but now she was drowning… both helpless and happy she didn’t even attempt to fake a struggle as those chocolate brown orbs threatened to consume her. His eyes narrowed over hers and hers flickered in response. A little too far-gone already she took a moment to collect herself and then finally straightened her body moving out of his arm’s circle. ‘Was there a little reluctance she felt in his body?’ Khushi mused.

A little physical distance was much needed to make her brain functional again and once it was at her disposal she finally gave the Adonis in front of her a once-over. ‘My my! Things aren’t looking too bad now, are they? Seems like I just stumbled over my spice choice of the week.’ And with that thought she smirked sexily at the devilishly sexy and she could bet, deliciously yummy young man in front of her.

AN: Hey Guys! Now, this is going to be a short one. six to eight parts long and very concrete. I have decided to make it more action oriented this time. Well, actions are rendered implausible and in fact impossible without emotions, so there will definitely be an exploration of that as well. However, compared to my other stories, this one will be fast and focused. Hope you guys will like it. Do let me know what you thought of it.

Love,

 Srija :)