Chapter ~ 30

With his expectations from Khushi’s cooking already at rock bottom, at first Avish had found the halwa rather...ummm... edible of the sorts. At least it seemed more edible than her dal . But after the first few spoonful, it became apparent that the said dal was a bad reference point to begin with because the halwa in front of him was strangely under-cooked and burnt, at the same time, a feat he knew only Khushi was capable of achieving in the whole wide world even after receiving live instructions and guidance from buaji. He had dutifully called it good  the first time and nice  the next time all for the sake of Khushi and her over-brimming excitement, but by the third spoonful his conviction to lie had taken a beating. He could either praise this ... concoction...or try to eat it. Doing both extremely difficult things simultaneously was not something his brain could handle.

So here he was, shoving this brown gooey sticky weird tasting halwa down his protesting innocent throat, while Khushi comfortably sat opposite to him flanked by his dad and buaji on either side. Buaji was wiping the sweat off of her forehead as if she had run a marathon instead of cooking a deadly halwa , and her bade papa was hovering over her with a glass of juice. Avish felt jealous of Khushi in that moment. He wanted that glass of juice. If someone had told him about this custom beforehand, he would have definitely gone for a civil marriage. As much as he wanted to get out of this halwa situation without hurting the novice cook and her adamant mentor, there seemed no decent way out. Why only me , he sighed once more. And as if in answer to his silent pleas the very next second, the chair beside his was pulled out.

“Good Morning everyone,” Karan greeted happily while sitting next to Avish.

Khushi and buaji beamed at him. Avish swallowed another bite down his throat with difficulty and could only manage a curt nod along with it.

“Good morning beta,” Sumer smiled. “Dropped Shreya and her parents to the airport? Was the flight on time?” he asked.

“Ji uncle. Flight was dot on time,” he replied picking up an apple from the dining table, which was promptly snatched away by buaji.

“Eat this halwa first,” she said standing up with the intention of serving it to him.

Karan smiled.

“Your niece has cooked it for her first rasoi ,” she added.

The smile dimmed considerably. “What? Why?” he blurted, gulping.

Exactly my question , Avish thought while forcing another morsel to his mouth.

“What do you mean why? She has cooked it for the first time. With so much love,” buaji argued as Sumer and Khushi looked on.

“First time? All the more reason I should stick to this apple,” he grabbed the apple again, eying a pouting Khushi narrowly. 

“You have to eat this halwa . Its tradition,” buaji glared.

“Raizada’s have a tradition to kill the girl’s side after the wedding?” he said in mock horror. 

Sumer tried to unsuccessfully suppress the chuckle at this statement, infuriating his sister some more.

“Bitwa is also eating it,” buaji pointed out.

“Your bitwa married her. It’s in his job profile now to suffer her cooking,” Karan retorted without missing a beat.

Buaji walked around the table and gave Karan a smack on his head. Then served him the halwa. “Eat it,” she ordered.

“It”s okay, buaji. Don’t force chachu. Why should he suffer my very first rasoi ? If it is not important for him then please leave it,” came Khushi’s small resigned voice. 

There it goes. Did Karan actually think that he had a chance against buaji and Khushi combined, Avish mused silently in his head.

And sure enough, the sad note in his niece’s voice made Karan emotional enough to make him pick up the spoon voluntarily, without having buaji bodily force him. He knew Laddoo was a terrible cook and a huge drama queen, but still!! Though it took mere two spoonful of Khushi’s delicacy, for the tender feelings to disperse from his mind dramatically. Instead he found immense empathy bubbling in his heart for her helpless firang groom who was suffering in silence beside him. He knew in that moment, that Avish will keep her happy, no matter what, but more on that later. Right now his point of concern was this weird halwa , which was a different issue altogether.

“Why are you all not eating?” he questioned the trio pointedly.

“Bhaiya cannot have it. Doctor’s instructions. And me and Titaliya will have it after you guys,” buaji answered.

“Will there be enough left for you two? Let me put some back,” Karan tried his luck once more, without much success. Something in buaji’s eyes told him he will get another helping if he won’t shut up.

“Is it really that bad?” this time Khushi frowned genuinely confused. Avishji is eating it happily, right? Then why is chachu creating such a fuss?

But fortunately Khushi’s phone rang at that precise moment, saving Karan from the dilemma of telling her the bitter truth or not. “It’s my friend from Mumbai. Must have called to congratulate for the wedding,” she happily announced before getting up to go in the corner of the dining hall to take the call. Unnoticed by everyone on the table, Avish had looked at her cheerful face rather fondly at that point.

When she was comfortably out of their ear shot, buaji leaned forward on the dining table and whispered in a conspiratory tone, “Avish bitwa, what gift are you giving her for her first rasoi ? It’s custom that everyone gifts her something. Like bhaiya will give her an heirloom diamond set. And you Karan,” she glared at the outspoken boy, “you have to give her a gift too.”

While Avish nodded, his mind working in the direction of the gift, Karan returned buaji her look. “Give her a gift? GIVE her? Seriously? We should freaking charge her for eating this crap,” he whispered fiercely. Walking in the same shoes, or eating the same halwa in this case, had finally made him feel the plight of the firang groom. He decided to switch parties.

“Now don’t say like this Karan,” Sumer intervened.

“You won’t understand, uncle. You are the lucky one with a bypass surgery saving you from this...” he pointed at his plate making a face, ”… halwa . If you can call it that,” he countered.

Kalyani decided to ignore the insolent boy. 

“And Avish gave her five percent shares of Raizada Constructions yesterday, didn’t he?” Karan reminded. 

“Every Raizada bahu gets it as a wedding gift,” buaji brushed him off.

“But I am sure every Raizada bahu does not cook like this,” he smiled a smile that was too sweet.

“How can you say things like this? She is your one and only niece,” buaji said exasperated.

“So? I am also her one and only chachu,” he retorted. “And he,” he pointed toward Avish, “is her one and only husband. And I am just saying whereas she is bloody experimenting on us. And you are helping her. What if her first rasoi becomes our last?” he accused, determined to save both of them from Laddoo’s torture.

“She made it with lot of love,” buaji softened a bit under the accusations.

“Halwa is fine, buaji” Avish spoke at last. Shooting all Karan’s protests down in a single sentence with the finality in his tone. With an air of authority of the said girl’s husband. Now that he had endured so much already in the name of big fat Indian wedding, he had no intention to create a scene over a halwa which was more than half finished in his plate already. Then Khushi did look kinda happy and excited when she had served it to him. And he kinda liked that. So yeah, it was fine . 

It made Kalyani beam in happiness and Karan roll his eyes in defeat. Here he was trying to get them both out of the mess. Never trust a married man against his wife!

Avish punched security password digits in the lock of his safe in his room. He had finally figured what gift he could give to Khushi. Taking out an antique wood carved jewelry box from it, he smiled. He opened it slowly to reveal in its plush blue velvet interior nestled a diamond, pearl and sapphire pendant, along with a card of Christie’s Auction House. It was a rare auction piece with precious stones studded in gold belonging to Qajar Dynasty of Iran which came into the possession of Mughal Dynasty of India in later centuries. Flower shaped pendant with a brilliant cut sapphire sitting in between surrounded by an intricate settings of diamonds and pearls around it, this piece of jewelry was the inspiration for Avish’s restoration project. 

He had accompanied his partner of US project to one of the auctions at Christie’s in New York. And when this piece was put up for auction, Avish had immediately taken a fancy for it. He had thought of it as a pretty piece of investment at that time. A bid of fifty thousand USD, and this part of history was his. It was later when he was searching for more information on it that the idea of bidding for restoration project of Government of India had struck him. So, in a way this pendant had paved his way to India. He would not be standing here today if not for his interest in this piece and its history. Therefore, it was only fitting that it goes to the person to which it had eventually led him to - Khushi, his wife. Wife , he smiled at the thought. Closing back everything, he walked out of the room.

Khushi gasped in wonder when she opened Avishji’s gift. His was supposed to be most important gift and he had just made it more special.  It was an awesome beautiful striking pendant. And it was antique. She had nothing in her collection that was antique. Infact it was actually the very first time that she had actually touched an antique piece of jewelry in her life. And it was hers now. It was too much for her to handle. Regardless of who was looking she jumped up from the couch she was sitting on, and gave her Avishji, a big tight hug.  

“Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.” she squealed in delight.

“Ermm..Welcome,”  he said, a little uncomfortable at the hug in front of family, although his heart was sub-consciously in a totally opposite zone.

Not caring that the hug was not returned, not noticing that everyone in the room was smiling slyly at them, she kept her grip strong until she finally left him a few seconds later. Showing off her gift to buaji and bade papa, as she smiled brightly. Where Kalyani admired the beauty of the piece, Sumer admired its origin and value. He asked about its history which Avish provided as he sat on the opposite couch, next to still sulking Karan. Karan was going to stay back in Delhi for ten more days owing to Sumer’s surgery which was scheduled in a week. He had decided to monitor him himself pre and post procedure. Since he was going to work at an affiliate hospital here in Delhi of his Mumbai hospital for next ten days, Raizada Mansion was his home too at the moment. He had thought of enjoying with his Laddoo after her wedding along with taking care of Sumer uncle’s operation in these ten days, the  sweet start of which was definitely not very promising.

“How much did it cost?” he heard Sumer uncle ask Avish.

“Fifty Thousand dollars” Avish replied.

Karan choked on air. “What?” he mumbled in Avish’s ears. “You are giving her this for her cooking? Of all things for that God forsaken halwa ?”

“I could not think of anything else at the moment,” Avish replied amused.

“Are you sure you are in the correct profession? Where is your business acumen? Even I can tell here that you are grossly over compensating,” he whispered animatedly, though secretly very happy for his niece.

Avish gave him a smile, but refrained from speaking. Who would say this is Khushi’s chachu. He is more like a pesty brother. He shook his head smiling.

“Oh! This does not match with the color of my saree,” Khushi was saying to buaji. “Let me change into something blue,” she mused aloud.

“That is exactly was what I was going to say,” buaji seconded her and they both got up chattering and left.

Avish looked at her retreating back silently. Gifts for him were synonymous with bribe. When he got them from his parents or when he gave them out to his business contacts, always . A means to get to something, with a covert motive. Simply savoring it as it is like Khushi was doing, was a concept he never knew. He had given this pendant to her with the thought that she would wear it and put it to some practical use. But he did not know that it would make her so happy. The diamond set that his dad had given her was way prettier than his gift owing to modern jewelry making techniques used compared to an antique piece. Karan had given her some very pretty jewelry of her mother too. But she had decided to try onto what he had given to her. Was even ready, infact eager, to change into a matching dress for it. 

He did not know how to react at his gift, in particular, being treated like a priority by Khushi. That too over her bade papa’s and her deceased mother’s. He could not explain the overwhelming feeling in his heart.

 Uneasy at the attention, he got up with an excuse of a conference call and moved to the study. Khushi came to show her new ensemble to him a while later, looking radiant and happy. He wanted to tell her that she looked extremely beautiful in a saree but words just did not come out. He knew she was his wife now. Khushi Avish Singh Raizada. He could blatantly stare at her if he bloody wants, let alone compliment her. But he refrained . Maybe because everything was happening too fast and he needed to wrap his head around things now that the wedding had finally taken place. But he did smile from the bottom of his heart at her enthusiasm. And at the honor  she was giving to their relationship. At the ease  with which she was accepting the changes in her life. He also gave his willing consent when she asked him if she can start shifting her stuff to his room.  Same room, he sighed internally though. There were lot of things that still needed sorting out. 

Where marriage had looked like an ultimate destination two days back, it was looking like the start of a brand new journey now.

A few hours after the nightfall, when Avish opened the door to his room, it looked different. Not only were there flower petals on his bed and scented candles lighted everywhere, there was Khushi standing in the middle of it dressed in a blood red saree, her green tinted orbs glittering in the candle lights. Fidgeting with her pallu nervously, he could sense that she was a wreck from inside. God she is so young, was Avish’s first thought. Adorned with lots of red and white bangles, mangalsutra , engagement ring and thick streak of vermillion in her hair-parting, she looked so beautiful. Like a doll. Like... like a child bride. The age gap between them hit him with a force in the solitude of the room. Not that he planned on consummating the marriage right away, but still the thought made him a little nervous now. Thinking of marrying her and actually seeing her like a married woman in his room were two different things. But all said and done, he was happy that Khushi was finally his. Nobody could come and claim her from him. Nobody. Her smile, her innocence, her laughter, her chatter were all his. And so was her loyalty, right?  He was pragmatic enough to not lose the sight of unresolved issues that lay between them considering how they had gotten married, amid the gamut of new emotions and equations. Though how will they resolve them was something he was absolutely clueless about.

“Hi” she smiled feebly, breaking his chain of thoughts.

“Hi” Avish replied softly.

“The decorations... Buaji insisted... I did not know what to tell her,” she fumbled looking around nervously.

“It’s fine. Room looks ... nice” he smiled folding his hand on his chest and looking at the decorations himself.

“I … I mean we… we transferred my things into your room too. Not all. Some is still in my room. There was a lot of it. My room is just two doors away so I thought I can go there anytime to retrieve anything I like. Why should I try to stuff everything here when there is a space crunch. It’ll damage my things and your room will look shabby too,” Khushi rambled on. Trying to hide her awkwardness in the one thing that she knew how to do flawlessly, talking.

“This is your room too, now,” he quietly said.

“Oh. Yes. Thank you. I mean of course. My old room, I was talking about my old room. I like this ... yo...our room more anyways. It has a big screen TV,” she prattled not knowing how to respond to his statement.

Avish looked at her amused. Since the time he could remember, he had always had a room to himself. Even when he did not want one as a toddler, he was given a room of his own. And he slept in it irrespective of being scared or lonely or sad or unwilling. Now, for the very first time, he has a roommate. And not a normal one, he has Khushi as a roommate. His wife, Khushi. Things were going to change around here, he could just feel it in his bones. But in his heart he knew he could get used to this walking talking big screen TV-fanatic of a wife in his room. Their room actually , he smiled inwardly.

“You ...want to ... sleep”  she stammered when he did not say anything. She needed to keep talking in order to stand straight. Else she would collapse out of nervousness she knew. Marrying Avishji was a different thing, but staying in the same room like a married couple with him, GOD, she never gave it a thought until she was left alone here by buaji. She was not a kid. She knew what all a marriage entails. But that was all in theory. Heck, she had not even been kissed in her life yet. And now she was expected to live with Avishji, who till four days back was just her silent formidable friend, was her husband now. Though she knew he is a gentleman, idea of sharing a room with him, especially at night, was fraying her fragile nerves big time.  And instead of making her feel comfortable, he was looking at her like he wants to psyche her out telepathically right this moment. Can’t he say something? Anything.

“That would be nice,” his eyes twinkled.

Is Avishji having fun at her expense, her brows furrowed. “I am not sleeping on the recliner. It’s uncomfortable,” she blurted annoyed.

“I did not ask you to,” he was positively having fun now with a flustered Khushi.

“Will you?” she looked at him.

“You only said it’s uncomfortable. Why would I then?” he tilted his head, trying to suppress a grin.

“Then?” she looked at him unsure.

“The bed is big enough for two people. It is called a double bed for a reason,” he unfolded his hands from his chest and moved to bed and started picking up petals strewn all over it.

“But I cannot sleep with you on the same bed,” she hobbled behind him.

Avish’s hands stilled. “And why not?” he asked tightly.

“Because I have seen you sleep. You sleep diagonally taking the whole bed. Where is the room for other person on the double bed then? What if you kick me off the bed in the night?” she said in all seriousness.

Oh. The smile returned back in his eyes instantly. “And I have seen you sleep too, in the study. That makes me worry about myself too,” he retorted swallowing a hearty smile at her big issue.

“Hawww... I sleep like a lady,”  she threw her nose in the air. The awkwardness and discomfort forgotten.

“In your dreams maybe,”  he countered as he moved to the other side of the bed to pick up more petals.

“How rude!!!” she gasped. “You know what. I’ll build a wall of pillows in between. Then we will see who sleeps like a lady and who sleeps like an elephant seal,” she declared huffing.

“You are calling me an elephant seal?”

“You are saying that I am not a lady?”

“When you sleep ... no.”

“HUH. Let the wall of pillows decide.”

“There are only four pillows in this room. Two of which are mine and I refuse to part with them. One I think you might need to put your head on. So good luck with a single pillow wall,” Avish pointed out, enjoying the banter now.

“I...I will...Hmmm...You don’t know...I can,” silenced by the damn logic, she did not know what to say.

Done with the petals, he deposited them on the coffee table of the room and came and stood before Khushi who was still struggling with a fitting retort. This time he did not even try to hide his grin, irking the helpless girl some more.

“You know what,” an idea had struck her just in time, “I’ll just go and sleep in my room,” she smiled victoriously and turned away with attitude. “Like a lady,” she added parting for a better effect.

She had moved just two steps away from her husband when his vice like grip on her arm stalled her and she was bodily turned enough so that she could now see his face. The grin that was on it a second back, was nowhere to be seen. Instead his expressions were unfathomable.

“What did you say you would do?” he growled out in a thick voice.

Still hung up in the banter that they were having not very many seconds ago, Khushi smiled brightly on purpose to irk him and replied cheekily, “I’ll sleep in my room if you have an issue with my sleeping posture. Or you don’t have an issue?.”

“I remember saying this is your room now,” his hold got tighter and his voice menacing.

Although confused now, Khushi could not understand this sudden change in his mood. “You also said you worry about yourself because of the way I sleep,” she persisted.

“So that means you’ll sleep in a different bedroom? You are bloody married to me now. No separate bedrooms, do you understand?” he hissed darkly.

This time her eyed widened sensing his rage.  ”Avishji. I was kidding. You thought  I’ll actually go? Buaji will kill me if I do that. I thought we were having fun,” she explained.

“I don’t like such jokes,” he replied stonily after a few seconds of looking at her intently.

“Point noted,” she replied patiently.

He released her arm. “I... Did it hurt?” he asked.

“No.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Are you okay?” she asked sincerely.

“Hmmm. I’ll take the left side of the bed. You take the right?” he offered.

“Cool. I’ll go change first,” she smiled cutely. He nodded.

After Khushi had closed the bathroom door behind her, Avish heaped down on the recliner holding his head in his hands. When the heck will his demons leave him? Why did he get so worked up? She was freaking kidding. Why the hell did he loose his mind like that? Because he does not want anything to go wrong in their marriage, his mind consoled him. But it had come out all wrong. Damn. He had married her alright, but he knew that he was not cut out for the institution. Will they separate too, like his parents? They won’t, right? Their marriage is for life, he tried to assuage the turmoil in his heart. But the happiness of the day had left him, as the clouds of gloominess started accumulating on his head. He sighed and opened his laptop to divert his mind in work. 

He was six years old, when he had come to know from his nanny that if your parents fight all the time and sleep in different rooms then something is wrong with your family. Very wrong.