Kaisey Yeh Rishtey - 20

Chapter 20 

It was a couple of weeks later. Slowly the house was settling into a comfortable routine, the regular pattern that most homes and families fall into, when things run smoothly, and all the occupants are in harmony. The jagged edges left by the tragedy were slowly starting to knit together and the piercing sharpness of the pain had finally started to ebb into a more bearable dullness. Akash resumed college, and the semblance of a social life. Mr. Raizada submitted, with resigned protests, to the ministrations of a physiotherapist, his acceptance smoothened by the presence of his darling granddaughter in the room, who watched wide-eyed with wonder, as the wiry visitor pushed and pulled her grandfather through a series of strange contortions every day, and surreptitiously tried to mimic his actions. And Khushi became further and further entrenched into a routine that threatened to become more familiar and easy in a few months, than her entire twenty four years of life had hitherto been.

Arnav came back from office a few evenings later much earlier than usual, and carrying a number of parcels. He came quietly into their room, where Khushi was sitting with Radhika, teaching her to read. She looked up at him in surprise, as Radhika rushed to greet him with a hug, as had become her habit. Arnav swung her up in his arms, and tossed the parcels to Khushi. 

"We have to go out tonight," he said briefly. "My clients and business associates have been clamouring to meet you for many days, and have organised a party for you tonight. This is something I picked up for you to wear."

Khushi opened her mouth to protest, but he forestalled her.

"This is a bit of a test for you, Khushi," he said, quietly. "Most will be happy to meet you, but a few may not. And that includes some ladies. I want to see some of that fighter spirit, my girl. And those claws you showed me once."

Khushi swallowed, feeling nervous at his words. Ladies? She remembered what he had said when she had asked him why he didn't want to marry someone from his own world ... 'no one who would take on those responsibilities'. She remembered the rawness in his tone, the pain in his eyes. Someone had let him down when he had needed support, she was sure of that. But what would they think of her, the middle class girl who had taken the place they had left empty? What would Arnav think of her, when he saw her with the women from his own life, his own circle, his background? he had wanted her to come as a teacher or governess at first. Would he feel he had made a mistake bringing her into his house and life as a wife instead? Especially when he saw again how different she was from the other women in his life?    

She looked at him, her feelings showing in her face.

“Will I … will I fit in?” she asked softly, hesitantly. “Arnav, they’ll know I’m not your type … not from the same background. Won’t they wonder ...? What will I say if they ask me  ...?”

“They will wonder,” he agreed, “but they’ll wonder far more if I don’t introduce you to them soon. And you can do it, Khushi. I have faith in you, I know you can. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, my girl. I’ll be with you. Don’t worry.”

He came close to her, and lifted her chin with one hand to face him. She looked into his eyes, to see warmth and understanding in the molten caramel depths. 

"You are my wife," he said firmly. "Remember that, Khushi. For whatever reason, you are now my wife. The reason for our marriage is between us both, and us alone. For the world, you are Mrs. Arnav Singh Raizada. You have all the rights and the position that goes with being my wife, and nobody else is entitled to them now."

"Including your love?" she asked, without thinking, and could have bitten her tongue out. Where had those words come from? She didn't love him, and she knew he didn't love her, that didn't come with the job. Why had she said that?

But he didn't look surprised. He looked at her steadily.

"Including my love," he said, firmly. "As far as everybody is concerned, we have married for love. And I will make that clear, so don't worry."

Khushi nodded shakily. And completely forgot that she had meant to protest about his buying her clothes!

She settled Radhika into bed, but was completely unprepared for the tears that started when she turned to leave the room. In the span of a few short weeks, Radhika had got used to Khushi putting her to bed, and staying with her till the little girl slept. She had also got used to crawling into Khushi's bed in the middle of the night, between her and Arnav, which suited Khushi very well! Radhika wasn’t happy at all at Khushi’s leaving, and she made it very clear with her tearful protests, clinging to Khushi’s dress like a little limpet.

By the time Khushi had settled Radhika's tears, and the little girl had accepted reluctantly Shantibai as a substitute, (though only till Khushi got back!), it was late, and Khushi had to rush to get ready. So she had no time to protest at the heavy sari and jewelry that was lying on her bed waiting for her. She got ready quickly and they left.

As they were late, the party was well under swing when they reached, and Arnav was greeted with loud cheers and shouts. He ushered Khushi in and a general round of introductions followed. Khushi didn't remember half the names but she smiled and greeted everyone, trying to forget that Arnav's arm remained firmly around her all the time. It was just to show everyone, she told herself fiercely, he’s not doing it because he wants to. And she tried not to think about the comfort and warmth the touch gave her.

It was some time later, that she felt, rather than saw, somebody staring at her. Arnav had strayed from her side for a moment, and she was talking to a group of people, making polite conversation, when a young woman with shoulder length dark curls, joined the circle where Khushi was standing. She was dazzlingly made up, and wore a stylish short white dress that screamed 'designer'. Diamond drops sparkled in her ears and on her wrist, but her hands were bare of rings. She stayed silent for some time, as a plump, red man spoke jovially about the surprise Arnav had given everyone by his sudden marriage.

"Quite knocked us off our feet, he did," said the red man, whose name Khushi could not for the life of her remember. "Just came into office one day, and I asked, well, how was your weekend, Arnav, and he said, oh, pretty good, Johnny. I got married on Saturday, so it got a little busy! Now isn't that exactly like Arnav?! I ask you!"

There was general laughter, but Khushi sensed the curiosity in the audience, and tensed unconsciously, waiting for something.

It came.

"Tell me, Khushi," said a husky feminine voice. Khushi wasn't surprised to see it belonged to the woman she had seen staring at her. It suited her.

"Where did you both meet? We haven't seen you around, and we know all Arnav's usual haunts. A lot of people do, you know. Especially a lot of ladies!"

General laughter again, this time with some hesitation, and the red man spoke again.

"Not good, my dear, not good. You shouldn't give away Arnav's secrets so quickly! Later, maybe, when the honeymoon is over!"

Khushi laughed as well, and hoped that the woman's question had been forgotten. But if it had, she was not going to let it go unanswered. She spoke again.

"So, Khushi? Where did you both meet?"

Khushi looked straight at her. This was one of the ladies who was not happy at Arnav's sudden marriage, she was sure. She remembered Arnav's words earlier in their room.

"You are my wife," he had said, and then, "we have married for love."

So she looked back at the other girl, and spoke more confidently than she felt.

"We met in his office, actually. It seems a long time ago, but really, it's been just a few weeks."

"And he decided he wanted to marry you right away? Sounds most unlike the Arnav we know!"

This woman was definitely showing her claws, thought Khushi. She smiled hesitantly, her eyes betraying none of the discomfort she felt.

"It does, doesn't it? It sounded most unlike him to me, too. I took longer to decide!"

"So you kept him waiting? Good for him!" said another man, laughing. "Well, Lavanya? Got your answer? Arnav … hey man, there you are! So Khushi has been telling us how you met. Must say, sounds like you finally met the right girl! Khushi brought your ego down to size, is it? She actually kept you waiting?"

Khushi hadn't noticed Arnav as he had come up to the group. He stood now easily by her side, smiling at the man who had just spoken.

"She sure did, Jay! But you know me … once I decide, I don’t give up easily! Her brother worked for me – that’s how we met. One of the advantages of being his boss was that it added to my persuasive powers with his sister!"

Oh, how clever he was, thought Khushi!  The exact truth and nothing but the truth. But the way it was told, made it sound like a love story! And to reinforce the message, he draped a casual arm around her shoulders, as he continued the conversation, taking over subtly, so that she had no more awkward questions to answer.

There was another awkward moment when he introduced her to the girl in white dress. Lavanya Kashyap, he told Khushi, and she smiled and shook the other girl's hand. Khushi felt the other girl’s eyes go over her searchingly, taking in her rich red saree, and the delicate gold and diamond flowers at her ears and throat, and felt slightly sick at the conclusion the other girl was obviously drawing. But Arnav stayed at her side all through the conversation, guiding it deliberately away from the subject of their sudden marriage to Lavanya’s work – she was here on a trip from the US, Khushi gathered. And was an old friend of the family, especially Arnav’s, Lavanya informed Khushi, with a slightly malicious gleam in her eye.

“A very good friend, isn’t it, Arnav?” Lavanya arched her brows at Arnav teasingly. He looked blandly back.

“Yes, of course, you were a good friend,” he agreed, subtly emphasizing the ‘were’, and Lavanya’s eyes narrowed.

“Come now, Arnav,” she said smiling, teasingly. “Just because I’m no longer living here, does that mean I’m no longer a friend? Surely we were closer than that?”

“How long are you here for, Lavanya?” asked Arnav brusquely. “Is it a business trip?”

“I’m here on work,” Lavanya agreed smoothly, “But I’d love to catch up sometime, Arnav. It’s been a long time. Let’s meet for coffee … or dinner … sometime?”

Her tone made it very clear that Khushi wasn’t included. Arnav looked back at her blandly.

“Sure,” he said. “We’d love to. Get in touch with Khushi, will you? She takes care of all this … she knows our social calendar.  Or you could come over home – dad would be happy to see you too. You haven’t come over since …”

It seemed to be a barb, because Lavanya flushed and set her teeth.

“I had to go,” she said, and her tone was not so smooth any more. “You know that …”

“You said you had to go,” Arnav agreed, and this time there was no doubt in Khushi's mind that it was a barb. A barb which seemed to have found its target, as Lavanya flushed again. “It was very important to you, wasn’t it? Do come over sometime … if you have the time. Khushi, come with me, sweetheart. There's somebody I want to introduce you to.”

Without another glance at Lavanya, Arnav escorted Khushi to meet some other friends, and she didn’t see Lavanya again that evening. 

Kaise Yeh Rishtey - 19

Chapter 19 

Akash 

He hated her, he thought to himself.

Deceiving, conniving gold-digger – she had fooled his brother into bringing her into this house, into a place meant for another girl. She had even won over his father and Shantitai, that too, in just a few short weeks. But he would never be taken in, he thought savagely. He wouldn’t get fooled by her soft voice, her sweet smile, and her ingratiating ways. She had managed to get Radhika to smile again, but by making her forget her own parents! Of course, she would do that! Ajay, Poonam, Mummy – Khushi hadn’t known them at all, didn’t have any of the memories, the ties of affection, of love, … that she had. Khushi didn’t realize that forgetting wasn’t an option – and he would not let her get away with it. He would never let Radhika or his father – or even his besotted older brother – forget the three members of their family that fate had snatched away. He would never let Khushi succeed in letting them do that, he would never allow her to succeed in wiping out their memories. He knew what she was up to – and he would resist all the way. And he would make sure that everybody realized that Khushi was not the one for this house – he would ensure that Khushi left and that she came back to her rightful place. And with her would come … Akash smiled in quiet satisfaction. Yes, if she came back, so would her sister. That was the right solution for his house, for his family. 

But how he was going to ensure that, he didn't know. Life seemed to be passing by in a haze. He no longer knew what he was doing, where he was going. After the accident, it seemed he had lost his way, and he didn't know how to find it again. 

It was a few evenings after the conversation between Khushi and Mr. Raizada. Akash was on his way out, when he heard his father's voice.

"Akash? Come here a minute?"

Akash walked backed to the dining room. His father and Arnav were sitting at the table, both looking serious.

"What is it?"

"Akash," began Arnav. "Dad and I have been talking. We think you need to go back to college. I spoke to your principal a few days ago. There are only a few months before your exams."

Akash looked at both of them. "No," he said, flatly, his face closed. Arnav and his father exchanged glances and sighed.

"Listen, Akash," said his father, earnestly. "I understand your feelings. But you can't stop your life. You have to build your life, your career. Everything lies ahead of you…"

"What lies ahead, nobody knows," Akash broke in furiously. Didn't they understand?! Didn't they know? Hadn't they seen ...?!  "You didn't know that Ma and Ajay and Poonam would be killed so quickly, did you? Life is so uncertain. What's the point of planning anything, when I don't know if I'll be here tomorrow, or not? What's the point? We need to live for today. There's no point planning for the future, when we don't even know if we'll be there to see it. I want to live my life the way I see fit. I'm not going back to college."

"Akash," began his father. Khushi came out of the kitchen with a tea tray. She set it down on the table and looked at the three men.

“What’s the problem?” she asked, her expression indifferent, as though she really didn’t care. The three spoke almost simultaneously.

“Nothing,” said Akash savagely, annoyed at her interference, just as his father started, “Well, Khushi …” and Rahul continued.

“Ah, Khushi, there you are. Dad and I were thinking Akash should go back to college. He’s in final year. What do you …?”

“It’s not her business,” broke in Akash angrily. Khushi looked at him, her eyebrows raised in slight disdain.

“No, it isn’t,” she agreed coolly. “Akash is right. It's none of my business. If he wants to waste his life, go through it feeling sorry for himself, then who am I to say anything? Why should you both either? Why should anyone be bothered? Let him do what he likes. That’s all he thinks about anyway, isn’t it? What he likes.”

“I don’t …” Akash started even more angrily, as his father broke in.

“Now, Khushi,” he said in a remonstrating tone. “That’s not right. Akash’s not selfish. He’s just … it’s difficult for him … you know that …”

“More difficult than for you all? For Radhika?” Khushi challenged, and Mr. Raizada subsided as she went on. “Some people have the strength, the resilience to pick themselves up. Like your Radhika. But  … some people think they’re the only ones with problems in life, and they go through life feeling that the world owes them. I don’t think you should waste your time feeling sorry for him. He’s doing a very good job of that himself.”

"Now, Akash," remonstrated the old man. "Akash is not like that. He just needs some time. It’s been a huge loss for all of us. But we are all coming to terms with it, learning to live with it … and so will …"

Khushi snorted. "He will never rise, Papaji. Look at your Radhika. She has had the biggest loss. Even she has the resilience to pick herself up, and start again. Look at Arnav. He is struggling with the business, doing the work of two people, doing Ajay's share of work as well as his own. How much it costs him to go on day after day, with that loss ... he has lost his best friend, his support system. Akash is lucky - he still has you, he has a brother to help him. But he is not interested. He is happy being sorry for himself. Maybe it's better this way. At least he won’t disappoint you further."

"Khushi," remonstrated her father-in-law, his voice stern. "You are getting above yourself.  And you are mistaken. He will never disappoint me. I have full faith in him"

"I’m glad you think so, Papaji," said Khushi scornfully. "I hope he doesn't let you down, that's all." She looked at Akash, with an expression that said she was sure he would do exactly that, and tossing her head, she walked into the kitchen.

Akash looked at his father and brother, rage at Khushi's words battling with an uncomfortable feeling that he didn't want to put a name to. The doorbell rang, and Khushi emerged from the kitchen, and went to open the front door. 

Akash opened his mouth and spoke with difficulty, his tone less belligerent than it had been a few moments ago.

"You're right, Papa. I will never disappoint you. But, Papa, my lectures, my notes… I've missed so much. How will I make up? And my attendance?  It’s no use, Papa … I can’t go back now …"

"You're wasting your time, Sir," Khushi was saying. Akash looked around and his jaw dropped. She was leading an elderly gentleman to the dining table.

"He doesn't want to go back," she continued. The gentleman greeted the other men. Khushi introduced him. "Papaji, Arnav, this is Prof. Sharma, Akash's principal."

After the greetings, Prof. Sharma spoke. "Mr. Raizada, I got your message yesterday. Actually, I have been wanting to call you. I have spoken to Akash’s lecturers and professors. The exams are very close – and he has missed a lot. Normally, we would not allow him to take the exams, due to his poor attendance, but the circumstances are exceptional. We all know about your loss and we would really like to help in any way we can. Akash has always been one of our best students, and we would be very sorry to lose him. I will personally ensure that he doesn't lose this year, if he comes back now to college. His lecturers say the same. They will be happy to give him all the help he needs, and I'm sure his friends will do the same. Please do send him back."

"Thank you very much, Prof. Sharma," said Arnav. "We were trying to persuade Akash to do exactly that. I'm very grateful that you've taken the trouble to come yourself to add your voice. Akash?"

Akash looked at all of them, turn by turn. His father looked pleadingly at him. Arnav nodded encouragingly. Akash was backed into a corner, and he knew it.

Khushi tossed her head, and went toward the kitchen.

Akash gritted his teeth. She didn't believe he could do anything right, did she?! He would not give her the satisfaction of being proved right. He turned to Prof. Sharma.

"Very well, sir. I'm grateful for your help. I really didn't want to lose a year. I'll join from tomorrow. Thank you very much for your personal attention."

"Oh, well, that was the least …" began his principal, but Arnav swiftly interrupted him. Khushi looked back on her way to the door, and urgently shook her head imperceptibly.

"We really are grateful to you, Prof. Sharma. Not too many people would take such personal attention in their students. Akash is lucky to have you as his principal."

"I'll take your leave, then," said Prof. Sharma, smiling as he stood up. "Akash, I look forward to seeing you in college tomorrow."

"Akash, escort the professor to the door," said Arnav.

Akash nodded. "I'm going out for a while," he said, unsmiling, and followed the older man out.

As soon as they were out of earshot and the door shut behind them, Khushi appeared, a small satisfied smile on her face. Mr. Raizada and Arnav looked at her, and identical smiles appeared on their faces.

"Well done, beti," said Mr. Raizada, smiling. Arnav looked at him in surprise. It was the first time he had called Khushi that. That was the name he had called Poonam, his beloved daughter-in-law. Arnav swallowed a lump in his throat. Khushi had worked two minor miracles tonight, not just one.

“You actually managed to get that Prof. Sharma to come here,” Mr. Raizada continued, and Khushi smiled.

“People want to help,” she said softly. “They all know about the ... the accident. All his teachers, all his friends. They all felt terrible about it. I didn’t have to persuade the professor very much at all. He was only too happy to do what he could. Although he was a bit puzzled when I said I’ll keep out of the way, but he just took my word for it that Akash would be easier to persuade if I didn’t get involved because I was too new in the family.”

“Not knowing that the only reason Akash agreed was because you were involved,” agreed Arnav, smiling slightly. Mr. Raizada laughed out loud, and shook his head. "Poor Akash," he said, still smiling. He turned his eyes to Khushi, and his smile disappeared. He held out his hand to her. 

"Thank you, beti. This feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. We should have done this a long time ago, but he never listened to us. He needed this."

Khushi smiled back at the old man, and squeezed his hand slightly before releasing it. "You mean I manipulated him, and he fell for it? I know I was a little mean to him. Thank you for agreeing to go along with this, papaji." 

Arnav smiled. "When you make up your mind, Khushi, going along with you, as you put it, is not really an option. It's inevitable."

Khushi grimaced guiltily and made a face at him. Both father and son laughed again. 

"He's too innocent," said Khushi, becoming a little serious. "He doesn't know when he's being manipulated. Anyway, he'll start college now, and I have asked his friends to take him to the next college do. When he talks to you about it, I'll make some nasty comment. That will make sure he decides to go!"

Mr. Raizada chuckled. "You are a devious, cunning woman."

Khushi looked at him. "So, papaji? Have I won my bet?"

He laughed. "Yes, you have. Fair and square."

"And you'll give me anything I want?"

"Yes, I will."

"Right, then," said Khushi, briskly. "Tomorrow morning, a physiotherapist I know, is coming to take a look at you and start your exercises. I have also shown your papers to your doctor, and got your medicines. So you will take them regularly now. I will give you your medicines myself. And your exercises as well - you will be regular with them. The physiotherapist will come every day to start with. That should get you going for the time being. The massage has already started giving you some strength, so now the exercises will benefit you more. Radhika wants to supervise you. I think the idea of giving orders to her Dadaji to do his homework appeals to her."

Mr. Raizada looked at her, his laughter dying away.

"Khushi, …"

"You said you would give me anything I wanted if Akash agreed to go back to college," Khushi reminded him.

"Yes, but … I thought you would ask for a present! Some gift for yourself!" exploded the old man.

"This is a gift for me, Papaji," said Khushi, softly.

He looked at her for a long moment, then at his eldest son.

"This is a crooked little thing you've brought into this house, son," he said, sternly.

Arnav was looking at Khushi, and he was smiling very slightly, his eyes dark.

"Yes, Dad. Very crooked."

Khushi looked away, her face growing warm at his husky tone.

 Arnav looked at his father then, and his smile widened. "I did good, didn't I?"

The old man's face changed. He smiled tremulously, his eyes filling with tears. He held out his hand to Khushi. Slowly she approached, took it in hers, and knelt at his feet. His hand caressed her hair.

"You did very good, my son. Very, very good. God bless you both."

Kaise Yeh Rishtey - 18

Chapter 18 

Over the next days and weeks, Khushi started to get into the routine of life in the Raizada house and into that of her new ‘job’. She had three patients to look after, and without much thought, she knew where she had to start. She started with Radhika.

It wasn't a cake walk. It was far from easy. But there was one main advantage to starting with Radhika. Radhika was a child, and children are transparent and easy to decipher, their needs few and easy to understand. Radhika was a frightened child who had lost her mother and her grandmother, the two maternal figures in her life, at one go, and was lost without them. The child needed love ... maternal love, the love of a loving mother and grandmother ... and lots of it. And that, Khushi's love-starved heart could provide in abundance. Children were simple, uncomplicated - you got back as much as you gave. Khushi had always missed her mother, and wondered what a mother's love could be like. Now she found herself on the giving end, and found it to be the most rewarding experience of her life.

The first night in Khushi's new home, she woke to Radhika's screams - a nightly feature for the rest of the household. She rushed to Radhika's room, and ignoring the others who had gathered there in worry, carried the screaming, kicking, frantic child, still fast asleep, back to her own bed, and laid her between herself and Arnav. She gentled her, crooned her, rocked her, till the child's screams slowly sank into whimpers, and Radhika woke almost naturally, to find herself surrounded by warmth. 

Radhika stared drowsily at Khushi. "Mam ...ma?"

"No, sweetheart," said Khushi gently, softly. "Badi mamma. Remember me? I came here yesterday to stay with you and your bade Papa. You had a bad dream, sweetheart. But you're okay now. I'm with you. So is Bade papa."

The little girl stared at her in the dim light, only semi-awake, dazed with sleep and the remnants of her nightmare. 

"I ... saw ... the fire. It took them away. It took ... my mamma away ...'

She hiccuped silently and two big tears rolled down her cheeks. Khushi hugged her close, aching for the little girl.

"There's no fire here, darling. See? There's just me and Bade Papa and you. You're safe here. Your mamma has gone to God's house to look after your baby brother. Remember I told you? Sleep now, sweetheart."

Her voice grew softer and softer as she spoke, and the little girl nodded drowsily, her eyes closing. Khushi held her close, talking softly, tenderly, and felt the child grow limp as sleep claimed her again. Then she looked at Arnav, who had been awake throughout. He nodded slightly, his face grim, pinched, and she ached again for the raw grief in his eyes.

"Sleep, Arnav," she whispered. "She's okay. I'll wake up if she wakes again. Sleep." 

After that, it became a nightly feature for Khushi to bring Radhika to her room at night, and slowly, steadily, she found the nightmares growing less violent, the child going back to sleep more and more easily, cocooned in the warmth and safety of the big bed, with Arnav and Khushi on either side of her. Till one night, Radhika had no nightmares. The child woke, and half-asleep, toddled to Khushi's and Arnav's room, crept in between her and Arnav, and went off to sleep peacefully.

Arnvav watched the child disbelievingly, as she slept, her stuffed doll clutched to her chest. He smoothed her hair gently, and looked across her at Khushi. She didn’t cry, he mouthed silently, amazed, and Khushi smiled softly as she held Radhika close to her warmth. Love, she thought to herself, a little longingly … a mother’s love … what magic it could do.

So she gave Radhika love, and in plenty. She would continue going to the hospital every morning – that had been a condition of hers when she agreed to marry Arnav, and she knew he would honor it. But she took a month off from work – the ever-romantic Mrs. Gill would have wondered if she hadn’t! she thought amusedly, and used the time to spend completely with the little girl. She told Radhika stories, took over bathing her, dressing her, doing her hair. She helped her with her coloring books, her letter and number books, played with her, sang to her, crooned her to sleep. She cooked special dishes for her, enlisting Shantitai's help for notes on what the cild liked, and what her mother and grandmother had cooked for her. And Radhika slowly got used to Khushi, to the love, the constant attention. Khushi talked to Shantitai, and together they told the little girl stories about her father and ‘bade papa’ and ‘chachu’, making the little girl laugh excitedly as they described how much trouble the three boys had got into. Soon Radhika was begging Shantitai for more stories about her father, her mother, and her two ‘naughty uncles’. Shantitai obliged happily, gratefully as she watched the little girl smile and laugh more and more readily. Shantitai was shrewd enough to see through Khushi's light hearted laughter and teasing to the motherly care and concern underneath, as well as understand her way of dealing with Radhika, and as Radhika smiled more and more, so did Khushi’s word become law as far as the older woman was concerned.

So that when Khushi decided it was time to try play school again for Radhika, Shantitai backed up her decision fiercely, and Arnav and his father had to agree. Khushi did her homework and checked out all the possible schools in the area, finally choosing one based on the Principal’s sympathetic reaction to Radhika’s story, and her agreement to allow Radhika to ease slowly into the school routine. Khushi took Radhika to school herself, and stayed there for days on end during school hours, till Radhika settled down and finally allowed Khushi to be out of sight for a few hours every day. Only then, did Khushi go back to hospital, and then, just for those few hours while Radhika was at school.

But both Akash and his father were harder nuts to crack. So Khushi gathered her forces, and attacked on the first front - her father-in-law.

Mr. Raizada had gone into a shell after the accident, Arnav told Khushi. He had given up the will to live. He barely spoke to anyone in the house, he stayed in his room most days and refused to come out, except for the evening meal, he had stopped his physiotherapy for his paralysed legs, and he didn't let anyone enter his room. Even the doctor had given up on the old man. The only person he liked to see was his beloved granddaughter, the only person who brought a smile to his face ... and she was the only person he could not say No to. 

Or so Arnav thought. But, he warned Khushi, even Radhika had not managed to reach the old man enough to make him do anything he didn't want to do. He didn't believe he could walk again ... he didn't want to believe he could walk again. He didn't want to live. 

"He hasn't got a choice in that," Khushi pointed out to Arnav. "He's alive. We have to make him feel alive again."

"How?" asked Arnav bluntly, and Khushi was quiet for a while, thinking deeply over what he had told her. Then she smiled. Put scruples aside, she thought. Arnav just gave you the answer to that. Use Radhika, the apple of her grandfather’s eye, the one person he can’t refuse.

So Mr. Raizada found Radhika knocking at his door every afternoon, wanting to show him her drawings, her numbers, her coloring, and demanding his attention and praise. As he rested on his bed in the afternoons, Radhika sat at his desk with his prized pencil set and drew pictures for him. She demanded his help with her 'homework', made him listen to her poems and stories, and wanted his applause when she finished.

And Khushi came with her – Radhika demanded Khushi’s complete attention when she was at home, so Mr. Raizada had no choice in the matter.

From being granted entry into his room to the next step, was easier. Khushi got into the habit of massaging his legs every afternoon, as he lay in bed for his rest. He grumbled and resisted, but she just smiled sweetly at him and continued. And when he found how relaxing it was to his injured, useless legs, his grumbling was more a face saving gesture than anything else. And as Radhika ‘worked’, Khushi talked. She asked about Radhika’s mother, then her grandmother, and the older man softened as he reminisced about his beloved wife.

“She adored Radhika,” he told Khushi softly, watching his granddaughter with fond eyes. “She always wanted a girl, and she got those three hulks,” he laughed gently and Khushi smiled with him. “When Ajay was born, she told me, no more, let’s adopt a girl. We fought and argued over that one for a long time, and then she discovered we were going to have a third – that was Akash. When he was born, she was a bit disappointed, and I told her – wait a few years, and we’ll have three daughters-in-law, then you’ll be happy. Other mothers are upset when their sons want to get married early, but when Ajay brought Poonam to meet us, my wife almost jumped for joy! And when Poonam was expecting, my wife was determined it would be a girl. That’s why I feel even more terrible that she went so early. All her life she waited for a daughter, and that joy lasted only three years. She loved Poonam also – she was more a mother to her than a mother-in-law and she was waiting for Arnav to …”

He stopped suddenly, as though he had said too much. Then he looked at Khushi.

“Whatever happens, happens for the best,” he quoted softly. “When this happened, I used to wonder if that was true. But now … I think …”

He looked at her again.

“Why did you marry Arnav?” he asked suddenly, directly. “Did you know about … us? About Radhika? That you have to be almost a step-mother … right from the start of your married life? That this child, unrelated to you, will be your primary responsibility for years ahead? Do you love him so much that you can do that?”

Khushi swallowed and looked down.

“I lost my mother when I was two,” she said with difficulty. “Even younger than Radhika. I know what it's like to cry for a mother. Yes, Papaji, I can do that. I knew what Radhika would want, would need … because I have craved that all my life. A mother’s love. I …” she stopped, unable to go on, her eyes damp. 

Mr. Raizada's eyes softened, as he watched her swipe at her cheeks surreptitiously. He reached out to her as she paused in her task of massaging his legs, and gently patted her on the head. 

After that, he welcomed Khushi and Radhika every afternoon, waited for them. There was a new understanding between them, and he never asked her again about why she had married Arnav. Their conversations every afternoon were easier, lighter, as he reminisced more freely about his wife, and for Radhika's benefit, about her parents. 

 That gave Khushi courage to gear up her forces into the bigger battle.

"Why doesn't Akash go to college, Papaji?" she asked him one day, smoothing the oil into his legs. "Arnav said that he's into his final year of MA. Surely he should be attending some classes. His exams will be coming up soon."

"He stopped going after the accident," said her father-in-law, heavily. "Arnav persuaded him to start again when he recovered from his injuries, but his heart wasn't in it, and he used to play truant. He would leave the house for college, but disappear for hours on end. That started worrying Arnav, so he stopped putting pressure, afraid that Akash would really rebel and do something drastic. Then I think somebody said something about his going abroad for his MBA, like Arnav had done, after his final exams. Akash just stopped going to college completely. He stopped listening to his friends, so they also stopped trying. He doesn’t meet them or go out with them anymore either. Now his principal says that his attendance isn't good enough, so … we don't know what to do."

Khushi nodded thoughtfully. "What do you want him to do, Papaji?"

"Isn't it obvious?" asked the old man, bitterly. "I want him to go back. Life has stopped for me, but it shouldn't stop for him. It lies ahead for him, and he has a long road to go. He has to make something of his life yet."

She nodded. "Will you help me? If I try to get him to go back to college?"

Her father-in-law looked at her in surprise. "You?! He will never listen to you, of all people! If anything, he'll do the opposite of what …" he stopped suddenly, and looked hard at her. It was the first time he had acknowledged, even indirectly, that he knew of Akash’s animosity towards her. But to his surprise, Khushi was smiling, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

"Exactly, Papaji. He'll do just the opposite. So, will you help me?"

Mr. Raizada looked hard at her, then a slow smile broke across his face.

Kaisey yeh Rishtey - 16 & 17

Chapter 16 & 17

Might as well get to work right away, thought Khushi, as she entered her own set of rooms after dinner. Her new husband, Arnav Singh Raizada, or Arnavji, as she had started to call him in her mind, waited for his father to retire from the dining room and leave them alone, and then told her that he needed to do some work, and stayed back in his study. She was grateful for his consideration in giving her some privacy. She did feel odd entering the large room alone, but was reassured to find that her clothes had been unpacked and already settled into the large wardrobe, and her simple comb and brush, as well as her few cosmetics were laid out neatly on the dressing chest. This was her room too now ... she had to get used to the thought. 

For a few moments Khushi looked around the room, admiring it again. This was going to be home for her for the next year, give or take a month or so. After meeting the Raizada family, or the broken remaining fragments that remained of it, she felt a little overwhelmed at the enormity of the task that lay ahead of her, and more than a little uncomfortable at the deception she was undertaking to accomplish that task. I'm good at my work, she had told Arnav confidently. But this was more than just work in her hospital, which she could leave behind at the end of the day. She would be living day in and day out with these people, with this family. It would be hard to maintain her usual clinical detachment, and see them only as patients. And how would she maintain the deception she and Arnav were undertaking? 

Biting her lip, Khushi pushed the unwelcome doubts to the back of her mind, and purposefully blanked her mind. She needed to stay in control, treat the family as her patients, and follow her usual treatment plans for them. And she would do it. Living here for the duration meant she was free of her Baba and even more, her brother, and that could only help her, not hinder her. Arnav was a very decent man, a thorough gentleman, she knew that instinctively from the limited interactions she had had with him. Living with him would not be a problem. In fact, her mouth twisted wryly, it would be far easier than living with her brother had been, especially the last few years. She firmly refused to think in any other direction, especially about how it would be to share a room with a very attractive man, for months on end. No ... that was a dangerous line of thought ... she was not going there ... 

Khushi made herself busy changing out of her heavy sari into a new nightdress, also bought by Arnav, and stripped down the covers of the bed. Then she stood staring down at it blankly. Arnav had said this would be a marriage in name, but she didn't see another bed anywhere. 

She shook her head briskly, dismissing those unwelcome doubts, and went to look again at the family picture. On the sideboard under it, were some photograph albums. She picked them up, and sitting down on the bed comfortably, she began to go through the pictures slowly, stopping now and then to slip a photograph out of its place.

By the time Arnav came to bed, she had accumulated a small pile. So immersed was she in her job, that she barely looked up when he came into the room. He looked at her, saw her clothes neatly folded on the chair, the small pile of jewelry on the dressing table, and a slight smile came to his face. He said nothing, but disappeared into the bathroom. When he came out, he was in his pajamas. He came and sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Khushi.

"What on earth are you doing?" he asked softly.

Khushi jumped a little, and drew back, taken aback to find him so close. A strand of hair fell across her face, and he lifted a hand to brush it back. His touch startled her, and she bit her lip, willing herself not to flinch.

"I'm getting to work," she spoke briskly, trying to hide the slight tremor in her voice. "I need to make some changes. With your permission." She added quickly, and Arnav grinned at her obvious last minute thought.

"Why do I get this feeling," he mused, "that you've made up your mind very definitely what to do? My permission is for form's sake only, isn't it?"

"Well," Khushi defended, flushing a tad guiltily "you've hired me for a job, and I have to do it the best way I know how. And the sooner I start, the better. I need to start with Radhika, Arnavji. Once she is better, and happier, the whole house will be happier."

He nodded, his face becoming serious. "You're very right. But, my dear sweet Khushi, it doesn't take a genius to realise that. What are you going to do about it, that is the question."

"First of all," Khushi said briskly, "I'm going to get rid of those huge pictures in her room. The poor kid can't forget the tragedy even if she wants to. When were those things put there, for heaven's sake? They're staring down at her all the time - the poor kid! It's like being haunted by her own parents!"

Arnav looked at her surprised. "But she shouldn't forget her parents! That's not the idea! She must remember them."

"She must and she will remember them, I agree," said Khushi gently. "But let her remember the happy times, not have them staring down at her all the time, like ghosts! I'm making a collage of pictures for her room, with all the family, you, Akash, your father, Shantitai, and her parents and grandmother. What about her maternal grandparents? If they are living, let me add some of their pictures as well. Let her see the living as well as the dead, for heaven's sake!"

Arnav looked thoughtfully at her.

"Are you sure? Poonam or my mother used to put her to bed every night. That was another reason we put the pictures there - she used to cry for her mother every night, and she did seem to settle down when we put the picture there."

Khushi looked at him seriously, thinking for a moment. Then she shook her head slowly. 

"Let me try this," she said. "It will take a few days for this to be made and framed the way I want it. Till then, I'll observe her behaviour inside and outside her room. I'll make the change in a way that seems natural."

Arnav still looked doubtful. Khushi looked at him.

"Well? Can I go ahead or not? I promise you, it won't be a traumatic change. And i will be watching her every inch of the way, Arnavji. If I feel it affects her badly, they will come back. That's the advantage of living here ... I will be able to gauge her behaviour much more easily, and work accordingly."

He nodded slowly.

"I really am not too sure about this, Khushi, but if you are …. Well, like you said, it's your job for the next few months, and you know what you’re doing … and it's what I hired you for, so … I guess, if she doesn't get disturbed by the change, and she doesn't cry, or her nightmares don’t get worse again, or …"

"Stop!" exclaimed Khushi, holding her hands to her ears. She was smiling. When she looked at Arnav, so was he. Reluctantly.

"All right, all right," he said, his smile in his voice. "I won't say any more. Get on with your work."

"I've just about finished," Khushi told him, shuffling the pictures together. "Except that I would like some pictures of her maternal relations also, and friends, if you can get them. I want pictures of pleasant events - birthday parties, family picnics, things like that."

"There are more in her room," said Arnav. "These one I have are only the ones in which I or my parents figure. She has more with Ajay and Poonam. I'll take them out for you tomorrow."

Khushi nodded, she hoped, briskly. She got up, picking up the albums and pictures she had sorted out. Arnav put out a hand to steady an album in her grasp, and his hand brushed hers.

She gave a nervous start, which she tried to hide. His nearness and the lateness of the hour was getting to her, she thought. That, and the fact that they were alone in the room, and she was absurdly, acutely aware of him.

She busied herself in putting the albums back in their place, and took her time putting the photographs into order, very aware of the man watching her from the bed. As she was carefully avoiding looking at him, she didn't notice when his expression changed to a very amused look. He knew exactly what was going through her mind.

Khushi was so busy ignoring Arnav, that she didn't notice when he rose. He came up behind her, and she gave a start when he spoke softly just behind her ear.

"How long are you going to pretend to be so busy, Khushi? Why don't you just come out with it and ask me?"

"I …I … don't know what you're talking about," she managed, her hands shuffling the pictures uselessly.

"Oh, come on," Arnav chided. "I thought you were an intelligent girl. You know what I'm talking about. You're worried about the sleeping arrangements, aren't you?"

Khushi looked at him quickly, and looked away from the devilment in his eyes.

"You …you did say this would be in name only," she muttered. "It's a job I'm doing. So I'm entitled to wonder, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," he agreed, solemnly. "But remember, you are my wife. The wedding and the vows in front of the fire were real. Our marriage is real and legal. And I will have to legally divorce you when the time comes."

Khushi flinched at the word 'divorce'. Yes, this marriage would end sooner or later, that much was certain.

"I know," she protested. "But you promised …"

Arnav grinned, and she looked at him with a touch of anger.

"Arnavji," she said. "This is not right. You can't take advantage of my position like this."

"Am I doing anything?" he asked aggravatingly, and added mockingly, "… yet?"

She looked angrily at him, and Arnav laughed.

"I like pulling your leg," he said, maddening her still further. "I didn't know you would get angry so quickly. You always seem so calm and collected, in control."

She didn't know what to say, what to think. He was still very close, and she was finding it a little difficult to breathe.

"Please," she said, trying very hard not to let the note of pleading enter her voice. "Please, Arnavji, don't be a tease. You know what I mean. You promised …"

He gave a soft chuckle, and unexpectedly, moved his hands to her shoulders. His fingers moved gently, softly, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, as well.

"You've carried a big burden on these shoulders for some time, haven't you, sweetheart? And I've just added to it, by pushing my own troubles on to you."

He turned her around gently to face him.

"The sofa is a sofa cum bed," he said, softly, still massaging her shoulders. "I do remember my word, Khushi. I will sleep there, and you here. So don't worry, okay? I'm not about to maul you in the middle of the night."

She looked at him steadily, biting her lip, her panic fading and her normal good sense returning. Of course, he wouldn't break his word. In the little time she had known him, she had realized that he just wasn't that kind of person. But … she thought slowly, what if … she looked at the bed again.

“Arnavji, it won’t work,” she said in a small voice, not looking at him. He looked surprised.

“What?”

“You … you said Radhika woke up every night,” she reminded him unwillingly and he frowned.

“Yes,” he said slowly, and she could see he was thinking the same thing that she was. “she does. Do you … will you …?”

“I’ll have to,” she said. “I’ll have to bring her here … and if she sees you sleeping there …”

“The whole house will know,” he agreed, frowning as he thought over what she was saying.

“Unless,” she began, and he looked at her again.

“Unless what?”

“Unless I go to her room when she wakes and sleep there …”

"No!" he said, immediately. "She comes in here. I don't want the whole world to think that I've married you only for her. This marriage has to look like a real marriage. Neither my father nor Akash should guess the truth. You sleep here and Radhika comes here with us. If Akash sees you in her room every night, it won't take him long to put two and two together. I don't want him to guess anywhere remotely near the truth."

She looked at him in surprise. "Why? I was thinking of enlisting his help actually. It would help his guilt feelings, to make him feel he’s doing something. Especially for Radhika, since he feels responsible for her nightmares."

“No,” repeated Arnav firmly. “I said no one gets to know and I meant no one. Not my father, not Akash. Especially not Akash.”

“Why especially Akash?” asked Khushi slowly, puzzled.

Arnav looked away without meeting her eyes. He turned and walked to the window, and stared out. Khushi looked at him, puzzled.

"Arnavji?" then, when he didn't answer, "Arnavji? What is it? What is the matter?"

"Forget it, Khushi," he said, without meeting her eyes. "Let’s leave it for now. Just accept that I don't want anyone to know the reason for our marriage. Especially not my own family, my brother or my father. They're all part of the problem, they are all taking part in the cure, to a large extent or small, they all need healing."

"And you," she added, softly, and he looked at her in surprise. She smiled gently back at him. "You hurt too, don't you? You need healing, as well, from what I can see. You need to let your feelings out and be free to mourn as well, you know, Arnavji."

He looked a little startled, and not quite pleased, as though he didn't like displaying his weakness. Khushi suddenly had a vision of Aman breaking down and crying at the hospital, and his subsequent embarrassment.

"Why you men…," she said, exasperatedly, "believe that showing any emotion is weak and foolish, is something I'll never understand, not if I live to be a thousand years old. Why is it a problem to confess to feeling sad, or grieving, or hurting? If you're hurting, if you're grieving, it's normal, for heaven's sake! You’ve lost your mother and your brother, after all."

Arnav smiled a little at her vehemence.

"I'm not hiding anything," he defended. "I am grieving, it's only natural. But I thought I had got over it, and got on with my life. Your assumption that I haven't, surprised me, that's all."

"I'm right, though, aren't I?" she challenged him. He looked as though he was going to contradict her, then he stopped, his face thoughtful. And when he spoke, the words came slowly, hesitantly.

"I don't know, Khushi. I ... don't ... know. I've always felt I'm coping quite well, and the burden of looking after the others … well, I had to recover fast, or who else would look after them? But in a way ... I suppose you're right. I've really had no time to grieve - I had to get on with the practicalities. Radhika's guardianship, her inheritance and trust fund, re-division of the company, and its responsibilities … oh, all that. Nobody else was in any state to see to all that, so I had to thrust my own feelings away, and look after all that. And when I came out from that mess, enough time had passed to blunt the impact of the tragedy, and it was important to get on with life. And get the living back into getting on with life. I had no time on my own, to mourn my own loss. Ajay and I were very close. We were just a year apart in age - Akash came much later, and he's been the kid in the house all the time. Ajay and I were … I miss him a lot," he ended, bleakly, sitting down on the bed, and Khushi ached for the emptiness she saw in his face.

She came up to him gently, and knelt down on the floor next to him. "Then grieve for him, Arnavji," she said, softly. "Think about him. Remember him, remember all the good times with him, growing up together, everything. Cry for him, if you want to. Remember your mother, and talk about her, if you want. If you want me, I'm here .. if you want to grieve alone, send me away, but remember them. Don't freeze them out of your memories. Memories are beautiful, Arnavji, you must keep them there."

He nodded, his face still bleak and still, then he looked at her, small and vital, and a small smile came to his face.

"This wasn't part of your job, was it, my little psychologist?" he mused. "Aren't there enough people who need your healing, to add me to the list?"

"All for the price of one," she said, purposely flippant, to ease the atmosphere, and had the satisfaction of seeing his smile widen into genuine amusement. He touched her hair gently.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said, still smiling. "Can you stop calling me Arnavji? It makes me feel about a hundred years old. Even my mother called my father by name, and they has as traditional an arranged marriage as you can imagine. And we're supposed to be the modern, much in love couple here."

She smiled uncertainly. "I wasn't sure what you wanted actually ... what was the norm here. And I didn't ... I don't know you well enough ... Arnav seemed a bit ... too familiar ..."

He grinned teasingly. "We're sharing the same room, the same  ..." he gestured towards the bed, "Familiarity is par for the course, sweetheart. So Arnav it is ... okay?"

Her heart gave a small skip at that teasing smile. She nodded, somehow not trusting her voice at that particular moment. She felt oddly breathless. He touched her cheek. 

“Go to bed,” he said gently. “I think you’re right … I’ll have to sleep there too. You trust me, don’t you?”

She nodded, surprising herself, and realized that she did. Why, she didn’t know, but she did. Implicitly.

She went to bed then, and Arnav said he had some work, and settled down in a leather armchair in the sitting area with some files. More to give her time to sleep, she guessed, than from any real desire to work, for she saw him yawning soon, and she pretended to be fast asleep so that he could sleep himself. He came to bed shortly afterwards, and lay down scrupulously on his side, with a couple of pillows down the center of the bed. She lay awake for some time, then out of sheer exhaustion, fell asleep.