part0038

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ... Khushi absentmindedly counted the red and white bangles on her wrists. Flicking each one as the count went ahead. Anything to take her mind off this dementing headache. Her first ever hangover, which started when she woke up today morning, and is still going strong at three in the late Dubai afternoon. No amount of aspirins and those poisonous black coffees that Avishji had made her drink had been of any help to her yet.

“I like your...” Avishji, who was sitting on the adjacent chair, started speaking.

“Don’t Avishji. Don’t,” she warned.

“What? I like your bangles and I want you to know,” he persisted seemingly all innocent.

Khushi rolled her eyes and looked heavenwards for some divine help.

“I have been wearing these since two months Avishji and you like them today?” she narrowed her eyes.

“Y..yes. I mean today they are looking nice. This orange saree looks at least of the same color family with them. Sometimes they just look so odd in your hands. And the way they make noise is so irritating at times. And most of the time they don’t even match your attire. And they are so huge and so many...”

“Are you sure the word you are looking for here is LIKE?” Khushi snapped.

Avish gulped. God this liking business is so tricky. Even when he likes things about her, she has issues. Last night when she accused him of not liking her, he had decided to verbally convey his like for her in every which way possible to her. And he is trying damn hard too. Her saree, her choice of breakfast which she later threw up, her cellphone, her sense of humor regarding that puppy story which she refuses to accept that she has belted out, her smile, her bangles and everything else under the sun that is related to her, he had stamped his like on it. How much more can a man like his wife? The only thing left was revering her now, if you ask him. But looks like she is getting riled up instead of appreciating his efforts. He made an excuse of getting her another cup of coffee and made an escape. He will strategize better next time. Instead of being truthful, he will sugar coat some good emotional stuff with the next object he will like of hers.

Khushi pinched the bridge of her nose for the nth time today. They were sitting in the secluded waiting area of Dubai International Airport’s waiting lounge, waiting for their India bound flight. What a day! Not only she had drunk insane amounts of alcohol yesterday giving her this helluva hangover today, some emergency in Avishji’s Agra project had them packing in haste today itself so that he can take care of it personally. And if that was not enough, since the morning she had woken up today, Avishji is behaving all strange. Overnight he has started liking everything about her. And when she says everything, she means everything. When he first said that he liked her, she had gaped at him, with a strange flutter inside her heart. But then things went downhill. Arghhh.

Not that they were great to begin with. She is still mad at him for calling him a kiddo last night. Then she hated the taste of her drinks and to top it, this bloody headache. She couldn’t even keep her breakfast down today morning. And to add to all this mess, it looks like she is allergic to alcohol. Her lips are slightly swollen and there are faint rashes on her throat. And Avishji is not even bothered about taking her to the doctor. Instead he is dragging her to a three hour long flight with him. Had bade papa been here, he would have made sure she received immediate medical attention. Him claiming that she weaved some puppy story last night is earning him no brownie points either. Oh, she is so mad. So, so mad, at him…at herself… At…

Reflexively Khushi turned her neck to the side to look in the direction of the owner of the voice. It took her less than a second to freeze on the spot. Her headache forgotten. Being mad forgotten. Breathing… forgotten.

“It is you,” the man bitterly smiled.

Her traitor eyes glazed without her permission. The heartache, the insult, the ridicule, the betrayal came rushing back like it had never left. “S... s…Suraj,” she stuttered.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

Actually, yes. Her courage failed her in that moment. She always thought that when she would someday cross paths with this coward, she would give her a piece of her mind, but defying all her plans, her tongue was stuck to her throat. Refusing to even move. She looked around helplessly. For support. For her Avishji.

Giving her a shameless once over, he smirked, “So the old man finally found someone to dump you onto?”

One stupid tear leaked. “G...get..lost” she croaked.

“With pleasure. I think I made my intentions to get lost quite clear a year back only,” he spat.

Khushi’s insides churned at the miserable memory. But he had dumped her. The right to gloat automatically resides with him. She looked away.

“But... ” he took a step towards her, ”… not before saying what I want to say.”

“I don’t want to hear whatever it is that you have to say. Just get lost,” she found her voice.

“As I said, not before I say, what I want to say. And you little bitch, will stand here and listen until I finish,” he held her bangle clad wrist strongly.

Panic rose in her eyes. Suddenly sitting in the secluded corner of the lounge started looking like a bad idea. And snapping at Avishji making him run away, the worst idea ever. She tried to wriggle her hand out of the maniac’s hold. He was such a sweet gentleman at the time she knew him, at least when he spoke. What happened now?

“Tell Sumer Singh Raizada that if he thinks he can ruin my dad’s hard work by manipulating the board of directors then he will have to go through me” he hissed.

“I… I don’t...know… what you are talking…about,” she tried to pry open his hold on her wrist with other hand.

“Of course. As blind and as deaf as ever. Sumer Singh Raizada’s borrowed limping doll,” he mocked, enjoying her distress.

“Le...ave me,” a sob escaped her as she tried to free herself.

“Then tell the cunning old man to leave my father and our company alone. Else I will ruin ... how do I put it... the parrot in which his life is caged,” he smiled maliciously and hauled her to himself, making her land on his chest unceremoniously.

“Leave me,” she panicked, pushing away from him without any result.

“Awww... babyji can raise her voice too,” he mocked.

“Leave me Suraj. Avishji will not leave you if he sees you manhandling me like this,” she threatened.

“Avishji?” he tilted his head.

“My husband,” the word never felt so right before. That particular moment opened her eyes, and her heart.

“Oh, you mean the poor man Sumer Singh Raizada finally noosed with you,” he laughed at his own joke.

“Leave my hand Suraj,” she hissed, in pain this time. The rascal was holding it so tight that the bangles were literally digging into her flesh now.

“Tell Sumer Singh Rai...” Suraj started to say.

“I believe the girl said to leave her hand,” a voice came from his behind.

Suraj was no fool. Making a scene with a married woman at the International terminal of a Muslim nation was risky. He instantly complied.

“We were just talking,” he turned towards the stranger.

“It did not look like just talking,” the stranger glared.

“It’s none of your business,” Suraj snapped.

“I believe when you manhandled my wife and threatened my father, it became my business,” came the cold reply.

Suraj’s eyes widened. “Father? You are…”

“Your doom,” the man snarled as he urgently walked around him to his crying wife.

“Avishji,” the stupid girl whimpered as if he had beaten her up.

Suraj joined the dots almost immediately. He is Avish Singh Raizada? The one who now controls Sumer Singh Raizada’s holdings in Jha Chemicals? The one who was working on some huge USA government project? HE married HER? Willingly? Suraj sized up the man in front of him. A few years older and a few inches taller than himself, he could have definitely done much better than the pitiful girl here. But then he did not look the kind who would settle with an orphaned limping girl without his will . What is it with this Khushi and the Raizada men? Wrapped around her little finger. Is she a witch?

“Who is he?” Avish Singh Raizada was asking a sobbing Khushi, pushing her hair away from her face like she was some freaking porcelain doll.

“Suraj Manohar Jha,” she hiccupped.

“He did this?” he queried holding her bruised wrist tenderly.

Khushi nodded and flung herself in his arms. Avish Singh Raizada held her tight.

Suraj knew he should just slip away. In his frustration on seeing Sumer Singh Raizada’s daughter here, he did not think of the consequences. The rascal of an old man is turning all the board of directors against them. Since the day he had a heart attack, him and his father were using this time in desperately trying to find new financers, precise reason he was here in Dubai. In his blessed absence, his son who now held his shares was busy with his own huge empire to bother with them. And he did not want to piss the younger Raizada now for a new animosity. Hell, if only he knew that Sumer Singh Raizada married this girl off to his own son. When did that happen? He just saw Khushi and on a spur of the moment decided to convey the old man that he too is vulnerable. What mess did he just get into?

“Wait,” he heard as he turned away.

He turned back, only to find a fist rocketing towards his nose.

Suraj cupped his stunned nose as he fell down on the floor. His eyes watered at the impact. He was sure the bone was broken. Confirming his doubts, a little red trickled down from in between his fingers wrapped around his nose. “HELP. SECURITY.” he yelled on the top of his lungs, panicking.

In no time, two airport security officers came running. Helping the injured man up, they inquired the reason of the commotion.

“This man attacked and punched me,” Suraj Manohar Jha accused Avish Singh Raizada.

Avish rolled his eyes. What kind of a fool had dad chosen to marry Khushi? He bruised Khushi’s wrist and he broke his nose. The account was even. Rest they could have taken care of in India. Instead of involving authorities on a land where neither was a citizen, it would have just been prudent of him to slip away. But no, he wants to dig his own grave. Fine by him. He is the married man here with a wife who this slime-ball manhandled. His case is rock strong from the word go. But a little extra help never hurt anyone and Khushi was aptly looking like she has just been in a train wreck. She could have not gotten a hangover at a better time.

“He molested my wife. I was acting in her protection,” Avish folded his hands on his chest, oozing confidence. A crying, red faced wife stuck to his back, holding onto his upper arm with her life lent authenticity to his statement.

“Sir, what do you have to say to that?” the officer questioned Suraj.

“Molested?? I did not even touch her,” he argued.

“Not only he molested her, he threatened her too. And if I would have not come on time who knew what else would have he done with my wife” Avish argued back.

“He is lying. I did not even touch her. Do you have a witness?” Suraj heatedly replied.

“They have security cameras all over on airports Jha. You do remember that, don’t you?” Avish sighed. Fool.

“I...I ...” Suraj looked around foolishly. He forgot THAT. The fact that he had hauled her to himself was eating him up right about now.

“Well officers, me and my wife would like to press charges against him. What do we need to do?” Avish unfolded his hands and slipped one of them around Khushi’s waist, bringing her the front, to his side.

“We would?” Khushi gasped.

“Yes,” Avish replied.

“But they will put him in jail. Here! In Dubai,” she whispered in his ears, concerned for the vile man.

Khushi fidgeted with her hold on his shirt that was still strong. “Avishji, he said bade papa is ruining their business. You think he will be able to pay?”

“Mother Teresa, that is not your problem. Now tell the good officers everything, and properly. And don’t wipe your eyes just now. Do it later” he started moving with her behind the airport officials who were holding Suraj with them.

He mused just what his kind hearted wife would say to the plans that were shaping in mind right now regarding Jhas and their Jha Chemicals once they land back in India. She might actually start crying for them. That low-life had dared to touch her, threaten her and had it not been foreign land, he would have killed him. Although kill him he still will, but differently.

“Did you not have a hangover? Just go to sleep,” Avish replied irritated now, after the tenth statement of same nature as he pounded away on his laptop, still in the waiting lounge.

Their flight was delayed by an hour. After filing a case against Suraj they had come back here. To Avish’s grave disappointment Suraj would get only a few hours in jail until a meager amount 50,000 Dirhams is arranged as a fine.

“No I’ll not sleep. We did wrong Avishji. Bade papa is ruining their business because he did not want to marry me and you are putting him into jail for holding my wrist,” she spoke stubbornly.

“He touched you. Threatened you. Made you cry. And. That. Is. Enough,” Avish pulled down the screen of his laptop shut with force and stood up facing her.

“No, it is not enough. He is desperate and made a wrong move,” she argued passionately.

In reality, pushing her hurt aside, it was her complex and her insecurities speaking. She did not want Suraj to be punished because he refused to marry a limping girl. Defect was in her, why should he suffer? She was going to have a word with bade papa too once she reaches home.

“So what do you want me to do? Go and apologize to him for my father’s business sense? And while I am at it should I take you along to hand you over for some more molestation? You would surely want me to sit back and enjoy it too, won’t you,” he hissed.

“We can drop the charges,” she said determinedly, ignoring the jibe.

“Are you even listening to yourself? This NGO and social work crap has gone to your head,” he got furious.

“Avishji I know what I am talking about,” she retaliated equally furious.

“You do? Because it does not sound like you do. He did not paint graffiti on Raizada Mansion’s wall and ran away. He bloody left you at the altar in front of thousands of guests and disappeared. He left dad, buaji and Karan to deal with public humiliation. He almost jeopardized my relationship with my father. Just because nobody says anything does not mean they were not affected,” he raged.

Khushi did not have an answer. But she was still convinced that what all happened, happened because she limped. “Still... it is me whom he left. You all don’t have to go after him and his family business like this.”

“Seriously? That’s what you think?” Avish looked at her incredulously.

“I forgive him,” she said in a barely there whisper.

“He is not your culprit alone to forgive Khushi,” he fumed with barely controlled fury.

“He did us no bodily harm. It’s a free country and he is entitled to refuse to marry someone he does not want to marry,” she stood her ground.

“A free country does not give anybody a right to use unsuspecting people for selfish monetary gains. A free country does not entitle anyone to lie to innocent people. To make promises they have no intention to keep from the word go. To humiliate them. A free country does not lessen the hurt of being taken for a fool when all you wanted was a sincere relationship. A free country does not unbreak a trusting heart which was used like a chess pawn. You might like being trashed by such a low-life but like hell I’ll be taken for a ride again in this lifetime.” Avish was trembling in anger. Old wounds were cut open unknowingly.

“You ... don’t even know him,” Khushi stuttered taken aback by his outburst.

“I know his kind”. Too well.

“But it was me whom he left at the altar. Should I get no say in the matter?” she questioned.

“If you talk like this, then no.”

“I can take care of my issues, Avishji,” she tried to reason.

“I saw that when he was holding your wrist and threatening you. Mighty impressive way you have there of taking care of your issues,” he taunted.

Khushi again had no words to retaliate. She’d done a lousy job of standing up to that man today. If Avishji wouldn’t have arrived, all she would have done was to cry some more and plead some more to leave her hand.

“Khushi you listen to me and listen straight because I am not going to repeat myself,” he said after a few moments, “I will not let anyone harm me or my people. I am not a very kind man that ways and you better make your peace with that. If you are feeling generous and charitable towards Jha, go ahead and amuse yourself because I can be vigilant for both of us. But I will never, and I repeat never, share your foolhardy righteous sentiments in this regard. So don’t even try. This topic is closed here. Do not breathe a word of it to dad.”

“I was not...” Khushi tried to say.

“Save it. I know you are planning to go running to him and tell him about all this. How about I make you a deal? You keep your trap shut about this fiasco at home and I might not bleed Jha and his father too much. What say?” he proposed without a trace of remorse. Khushi was now his responsibility and he would deal with matters related to her as he deemed fit and without any interference, even that of his father.

“Bleed?” a look of horror crossed her face.

“Not bleed bleed, stupid. What am I? A vampire? I mean their business. Deal?” Only with Khushi can you negotiate the wellbeing of her own assaulter. So easy to manipulate. No wonder everyone wants a piece of her. But now he has got her back.

“Avishji, can we just not leave them alone,” she counter proposed.

“Till today I hadn’t even bothered with him, but not any more. No one tramples over what is mine and gets away with it. And you my dear Khushi Singh Raizada, from head to toe, are only mine,” he growled.

Khushi’s eyes snapped up at the passionate declaration.

Avish too realized in a snap what he had just let slip. “My wife, I mean,” he instantly covered up.

Though she nodded, still a doubt crept up Khushi’s eyes. “You promise you won’t harm them too much and I will not say a single word about it to anyone,” she bargained.

“Why are you hell bent on his side?” he scowled at her favoritism.

“I am not. I just don’t see a point in dragging all this animosity. In a way he did me a favor by not marrying me. He is not what he looked like at that time” she said softly, trying to stop rewinding his earlier words in her head.

Avish looked at her beautiful face for a while “I won’t call it a favor but…”

Khushi hushed the sudden awareness that has erupted in her heart at his intense stare.

”... then I wouldn’t have got to marry you either if he wouldn’t have run away,” he mused after a few moments of deliberation.

What? What did he say?

“Put that way, I might find him a waste of my time,” he declared. “After a while,” he added.

Khushi eyes widened once again. He is going to cut slack to Suraj, if any, because he got to marry her as a result? Really? Why does it sound like he actually wanted to get married to her? What happened to this marriage is for bade papa’s sake line of thought? And he also just said that Khushi Singh Raizada you are only mine, didn’t he? Those were his exact words. She is not deaf like that Suraj had said. What does she make out of all this?

They say that there is always that one defining moment in a relationship. The moment where you become certain of your feelings. Khushi had stumbled upon hers today. And her certainty stemmed from the uncertainty she had about her husbands’ intentions to bind her in matrimony. Too many a slips of tongue, his firm stand towards her pain and insult, his overflowing concern, his anger at Suraj whom he had never even seen. It was not that of a mere friend. She has had a lot of friendships in life, some really good and strong ones, and his gestures did not point towards one. She was sure now. The intensity with which Avishji guards her, it was something else. And if that is not love, then she had no clue what is. So today, she, Khushi Avish Singh Raizada, accepted to herself that she has fallen hard in love with this stubborn man. She had fallen head over heels in love with her husband. Her insides were bubbling with happiness at the realization. She had an inkling that she was gradually moving towards this love territory in her marriage, but today Avishji had completely propelled her in there once and for all.

Today when she was desperately wishing for Avishji to materialize on the scene when Suraj was manhandling her, it struck her that he has always been there for her in the background. Like her spine. With his quiet support. Just his presence gives her enough courage to face anything. Slowly and gradually while silently standing by her side, he had built his home in her heart. But that’s where all of it stops. She could sense Avishji’s reluctance to accept his feelings even to himself in his lame cover-ups. Her womanly sense cautioned her that labeling his feelings as love would make Avishji uncomfortable for some weird reason. What he had in heart for her could be nothing else then love, but he wanted to hide behind ignorance. The anonymity of the feeling was somehow important for him. Why, she had no idea. Was it because of his parents failed marriage. Maybe some old love affair, the thought pinched her heart. Or maybe plain old cynicism that he is known for. But whatever it is, so be it. Love with any other name would not feel any less. And this very thought strengthened the resolve of her heart to shower her affections on him. Unconditionally. To let him know, in every which way possible, where she stands in this marriage.

And what can happen if it comes to the worst? At the most it will turn out that she was wrong all along about Avishji loving her somewhere deep down. Their marriage would still be there, wouldn’t it? It is a lifelong commitment and she would get plenty of chances to explore his heart, and change it. Or make her peace with it if nothing else. Because whether or not he falls in love with her, she had enough love in her heart for the both of them till the end of time. Just like he was vigilant enough for the two of them. Love does not come with a start or stop button, she truly knew that by now. It is an all-consuming feeling that you cannot make your heart start or stop feeling. Love controls you, not the other way round. And she was counting on it. Hoping that he will loosen up and succumb to it. Gradually, come around someday. Hope that he shall get on the same page as her. All she can do meanwhile is hold on the fort and wait for him to meet her there.