Kaise Yeh Rishtey - 6

Chapter 6

Aman dropped her back home after a long time. Khushi was later than she had been ever before. She opened the door, and let herself in, inwardly quaking as she noticed the time. She was in deep trouble, she told herself silently. Her father would be waiting for dinner, and would be furious. Her brother, of course, would not be home yet.

She was wrong on both counts. Her father was home, but he was not angry. He did not even seem to notice her when she came in. His attention was on his son, who, to Khushi's complete shock, was already home. They looked up when she entered, and she braced herself for the fireworks. 

They never came.

Her father looked at her disinterestedly, and murmured, "Khushi, you're home late today? Can we have some food?"

Her brother was standing at the other end of the table, and didn't even look at her. He was, in fact, looking distinctly shame-faced and sullen. His color was a dark red, and it was obvious he was in the worst of moods. Which made it even more surprising that he didn't snap at Khushi.

"I'm not hungry," he spoke sulkily, his eyes down, and his father glared at him.

"Probably the better for you that you aren't. You don't deserve any food or drink. You don't deserve anything in this house, except to be kicked out."

"Dad," Shyam expostulated, and the old man glared at him.

"So proud I've been of you always! I've ignored this poor girl for you, you worthless piece of rubbish! And look where you've brought us today! Whatever I've done, it has always been on the right side of the law. I've taken care not to smirch my name. But you…! I warned you … so many times, I warned you … this is dangerous, what you’re doing! But you think you’re so smart, don’t you! Any day … any minute now, the police will be here to take you away, and that will be the end of everything!"

"Police?!" Khushi exclaimed, appalled. She was shocked at the mention of the word, and even more shocked at the lack of reaction from both her father or her brother. And at her voice, finally her brother seemed to notice her.

"You don't have to act so surprised! It's none of your business!"

"It will be her business when people spit on her!" retorted her father, and Khushi blinked in surprise. She couldn't remember her father ever supporting her against her brother.

He continued. "When they call her the sister of a thief, and a cheat, then it will very much be her business. When she loses her own job, because of you, then it will be her business. You've lost your job, you'll be in jail, who will support us?"

Khushi grimaced in enlightenment. Her father's support apparently did not spring out of any long lost love for his daughter, nor was he, after all, very concerned about her. He was only worried about himself and his own support. Whatever Khushi's brother had done, apparently was bad enough for him to lose his job. 

Not that Khushi was really surprised at the disclosure. She knew that Shyam had been keeping bad company, she had seen some of his 'friends', and they were bad news. She had taken care to stay out of their way, and fortunately for her, her working hours had made it easy for her to do so. But the few glimpses she had caught, the snatches of conversation she overheard before Shyam very firmly shut the door on her, were enough to tell her that his 'friends' were walking a thin line on the wrong side of the law, and privately Khushi had known it was only a matter of time, before something serious happened.

"What happened, dad?" she asked cautiously, not to sure what his reaction would be to her questioning. "Why has Shyam bhaiyya lost his job?"

Her brother turned on her. "You don't need to know, you fool. Keep out of this… it's none of your bloody business ..."

“I think she does need to know,” interrupted his father, his face pale with anger and tension. “Khushi, this stupid fool – with those fancy friends of his - has been swindling his company left, right and center for the last so many months. I warned him … I warned him so many times! If he gets caught, he’ll be in jail … But did he listen? Of course not – he knows better than anyone else, doesn’t he? And now – look at him – he’s been caught, and any minute now, the police will come and haul him off. Or that dictator Raizada will take him … and that will be far worse. That man has connections everywhere! He’ll make sure Shyam pays for everything he’s done – not only him, us too! We’ll be on the road. All thanks to this … this …” he tailed off, so angry he could barely speak.

“He may not do anything,” said Shyam in a surly tone and it was evident he didn’t believe his own words. “I’ll return the money … I just need some time. I have to call it in from those people … And they have all the data, the plans … I can get everything back … just need a little time … baba, tell him that. You have to tell him! Those guys are dangerous … I have to figure out how to get it back from them … but I’ll do it …”

“Oh, they’re dangerous now, are they?” sneered his father. “When I told you that, you said, no, they’re my friends, they won’t let me down! And now … you’re scared to talk to them! I told you … they’ll get you into trouble … and they’ll get off scot-free and let you take all the blame! But who listens to me here?!”

“No, they’ll … I’ll get it back from them!” said Shyam, with a note of desperation in his voice, and it was evident he didn’t believe his own words. “I know … I was a fool … but they tricked me … it was all their planning … I had nothing to do with it ...”

"Go tell Mr. Raizada that," retorted his father. "Somehow, I doubt he'll believe that."

"Believe what?" asked a voice silkily, from the doorway, and all three of them froze with shock. Shyam looked as though the life had been knocked out of him. The sullen look left his face, to be replaced by sheer terror.

 

"Raizada Sir! You!" he gasped out, sweat forming on his forehead. He went so pale that Khushi, watching dispassionately from the corner  of the room, thought he would pass out from sheer fear.

She had never seen her bully of her brother so scared.

Two people strolled into the room. One was a balding, fair man, in a lawyer's coat. The other …. Khushi caught her breath in fear as she looked at him.

He was tall, fair, with straight dark hair brushed back from his forehead. He wore a dark suit, obviously expensive, a silk tie, and a gold watch. All the trappings of a rich, successful man. He wasn't good looking in the conventional sense, but his sheer personality was overwhelming. He seemed to dominate the room, without trying at all. But it was the expression on his face that filled her with dread. It was cold, cynical, almost cruel, as he looked at Shyam. He didn't even glance at the other two.

"Believe what?" he repeated, and advanced further into the room. "I'm quite interested in what you have to say to me, Mr. Shyam. Before I get you locked up - with your friends, of course. Are they still your friends, by the way? I heard that they don’t want to know you any more? Maybe they don’t want your company in the local jail. I believe the police can be rather violent there. Provided they want to lock you up at all, of course. They might decide to finish off their … conversation … without the bother of hosting you. Or maybe, my own people will be able to get everything out of you. After their ... persuasion, you might even prefer to go to the police."

"Sir, please!" gasped her brother. “I’ll get everything back, Sir …. I’ll get all the money back, the information, everything … I can get it … I just need some time … I promise, Sir … I got carried away by their lies … it’s not my fault, they took advantage of me, they fooled me, Sir … I didn’t know what I was doing … I’ll get it all back, Sir …”

Her tough bully of a brother had collapsed completely, thought Khushi, and dimly wondered why she felt nothing. She watched him blabbering in front of the two men, and saw the grim intent on the face of Shyam's boss. No, he was not going to forgive in a hurry. He didn't a believe a word of Shyam's fumbling excuses and lies.

Her father joined in his son's pleas, and Shyam's boss didn't even look at him.

Khushi felt suddenly sickened by the sight of the two men, who had bullied her all the life, grovelling in front of Shyam's boss. Strangely, she wasn’t surprised at Shyam’s misdeeds, and only dimly at her father’s apparent connivance. Shyam had always been her father's pet, Baba had spoilt him always, and Shyam had been brought up with the firm belief that he could do whatever he liked, and he would get away with it. All the discipline, the rules, the do's and don'ts in the house were reserved for Khushi. Baba would excuse Shyam even for murder. But Baba was not a criminal, he was too soft to be that, and he was scared of the law, he always had been. Now that Shyam was caught, her father was trying to distance himself, she thought cynically, and wondered vaguely why she didn’t feel more upset at their distress. Shyam had brought it upon himself, she knew that, and Baba's lack of discipline hadn't helped. They both deserved what was coming, Khushi thought.

She took a step backward, and turned to her room. She had had enough, and she was tired. It had been an emotionally draining day, and she didn't have the strength or the patience to listen to this drama. Her brother and Baba were enough to sort things out, and she had no doubt they would do so.

"Khushi! Wait!"

Khushi was startled at her father's voice. She stopped. Her father turned to Mr. Raizada pleadingly.

"This is my daughter, sir. My daughter, Khushi. Her life will be ruined if you send Shyam to prison. Her reputation… sir, please ... before you take any action, please spare a thought for an old man with an unmarried daughter. Look at her, sir, so beautiful, so young, so untouched. She will be ruined if word gets out about this. Who will marry her then, or take care of her? At least take pity on her, if not on Shyam. Take pity, Sir. Shyam will return everything. He will never do this again."

Mr. Raizada looked at Khushi directly for the first time that evening. It was a slow, deliberate, insulting look, from her head to her toes, a look which stripped her mentally. She felt naked under his gaze, and wrapped her stole around her more closely. Her father's words, and more than that, his tone, disturbed her, and she moved again toward the safety of her room.

This time her father did not stop her, and she sat in her room, dreaming of Aman, and the last few precious moments in his arms. She heard voices outside, her father's and brother's still pleading, and the firm deep voice of Mr. Raizada, which came less often than theirs, and always with a threat in it.

Her brother could not produce the stolen data or the money, and that was the biggest problem. Mr. Raizada didn’t believe he hadn’t already sold the data off to the highest bidder. He wanted names, facts, and Shyam was obviously too terrified of his partners in crime to give those details. He must have got into something way over his head, thought Khushi cynically. Shyam had never been known for his intellect.

Finally, the voices stopped, and she dared to go out. Her father was sitting in the chair, his head in his hands. Of her brother, there was no sign.

"Where … where is Shyam bhaiya?" Khushi asked hesitantly. 

Her father groaned, too shaken to even snap at her as was his wont. "They've taken him. To question him, they said. What are they going to do to him? What will they do to my boy, Khushi?!"

They waited. And waited. But it was past midnight when Shyam returned. Khushi's father rose thankfully to greet him, his face haggard. Shyam didn't look at Khushi.

"I need to talk to you, dad," he said brusquely. "Alone."

Khushi went to bed.