Kaisey Yeh Rishtey - 15

Chapter 15

Arnav and Khushi left the room together in perfect unspoken accord. She picked up a small parcel quietly as she left the room, and Arnav looked at her questioningly, but didn't say anything.

Downstairs, the family was waiting. Arnav's father, brother, Shantibai. And nestled between Shantibai's legs, was a little girl, whom Khushi recognized instantly from the photograph in Arnav’s room. She looked up at the couple, her eyes wide and worried.

"Khushi, meet Radhika," said Arnav, quietly. "Radhika, meet Khushi aunty. She is going to live with us now."

Khushi came forward and knelt in front of the little girl.

"Hello, Radhika," she said, softly.

The girl was wide-eyed. "Are you my new mother?"

Khushi laughed gently. 

"Am I? You tell me. Would you like that?"

The little girl looked directly back at her. "No," she said, with the frankness of extreme youth, without a trace of rudeness. "I want my own mother back. Why doesn't she come?"

Khushi could see the others stiffening. "Well, sweetheart, there's a problem, and God needs your mother to help. Your mother has to look after your little brother. He's a baby, you know, and she can't leave him. He's so small that even God can't take care of him alone, he needs your mother as well. So she has to stay with God, to take care of him. That's why she sent me here, to you. Because she loves you very much, and she knows you also need someone to take care of you, and play with you. Would you like that, do you think?"

Radhika thought for a moment, her head titled to one side, looking at Khushi carefully. Then she nodded her head, still unsmiling. "May be," she said. "What should I call you, if you're not my new mother?"

Khushi let out a small breath of silent relief. Then she thought for a moment. "Let's see," she said, gently. "What do you call him?" she asked, pointing to Akash.

"Chacha," answered the little girl, readily.

"And him?" pointing to her grandfather, who was watching and listening intently.

"He's my dadu," answered Radhika. "And that's tai," pointing to Shantibai, "and that's bade papa," pointing to Arnav.

"Well," said Khushi, pretending to consider seriously. "You have lots of family, but you don't have a chhoti mummy. Can I be your chhoti mummy? Then I'm not your mummy, but just a bit like her? So I can look after you, and play with you too."

Radhika nodded, but Arnav spoke from behind. "I think, gudiya, she should be your badi mummy, as I'm your bade papa, and she's going to live with me now. Do you think that's a better idea?"

Radhika nodded solemnly, her eyes rounding. "She'll marry you and be your wife? Then that Lava aunty won't come here any more, will she? Ok - I'll call you badi mummy."

Khushi nodded, smiling inwardly. So there had been a candidate for her position, after all, she thought. It didn't really surprise her. It would have surprised her far more if there hadn't been. But she did wonder why the unknown Lava had fallen out of favour. She bent to the little girl again.

"Now that we've settled that, tell me something. Do you like what I'm wearing?"

Radhika nodded, and touched the delicate silk gently.

"Would you like to have this?"

Another nod, this time with a small shy smile. Khushi held out the package to her, and the little girl took it eagerly, tearing the wrapping open, in her haste. She shook out the silk inside and gave a small 'ooh' of delight.

It was a tailored sari, twin to the one Megha wore, but in a size to fit the child. With it, was a blouse , also in her size.

"Do you like it?" asked Khushi, anxiously, and the little girl nodded eagerly, a faint smile lighting up her face.

"Can I wear it?" she asked.

"You can try it on," answered Khushi. "I hope it's the right size. I had to guess."

"Right now?" asked the little girl, eagerly, and Khushi looked around at the silent family behind her. She didn't know who laid down the rules in this house, and didn't want to upset any routine. But she saw Arnav's father nodding, his face showing some of the pleasure that his granddaughter obviously felt, and Arnav was smiling slightly, too. Shantitai came forward, and took the parcel.

"Come, I'll help you wear this," she said. "Then you come and show dadu."

"And her," said Radhika, pointing to Khushi. "Aunty, don't change your clothes."

"Badi mummy," corrected Khushi, and Radhika obediently said "Badi mummy," before trotting off with the older woman.

Arnav's father looked at Khushi, and she saw the change in his expression. There was a light in his eyes, that had been absent earlier.

"She smiled," he said, wonderingly. "She was excited with that sari! She smiled! For the first time in … how long, Arnav? My Radhika smiled!"

Arnav nodded, a guarded expression in his eyes. "Yes, dad. Don't get so excited. It's going to take her time."

"But she did smile," the old man said, obstinately. Arnav nodded, his face suddenly weary.

Khushi looked at him, slightly surprised. She would have thought that he would be more pleased.

Radhika came back with Shantitai in a few minutes, wearing the little tailored sari. She walked sedately, but her eyes were downcast, and her little face showed none of the excitement of a few minutes ago. Shantitai walked behind her, her face worried.

Radhika came up to Khushi, tears in her eyes.

"I want to wear it the way mummy used to," she gulped. "But I can't. I don't know how. And I don't even look like mummy in this. I don't want it! I don't !"

She pulled at the edge of the sari hanging over her shoulder, and pushed it to the floor. Her grandfather looked at her, stricken. Akash turned to Khushi, derision in his face.

"Do you think a few presents will make her forget? She has lost her parents, for heaven's sake, not a favorite toy! Come, my baby." This last to Radhika, as he held his arms out to her.

Khushi stepped forward, her voice firm and clear. "Radhika, can you show me a picture of your mother?"

Radhika looked at her in surprise, tears still rolling down her cheeks. Khushi continued in the same tone. "Let me try to fix it like you want. If we can't, you can use it for your doll."

Radhika nodded, and Khushi took her hand. Shantitai made as if to follow her, but Khushi motioned her back. She let the little girl lead her to her room. There she stopped short at the door.

The room was beautifully decorated in pink and white. Pink and white curtains hung at the windows, their print echoed in the bedcover and pillowcases on the white framed bed with a satin pink headboard. Cuddly toys occupied the baby patterned rug in one corner, and a child sized desk, also in white, with pink knobs, stood in another. White built in cupboards ran down one length of the room, the middle one glass fronted to show a collection of toys inside.

But what took Khushi's breath away, were the two huge photographs on either side of Radhika's bed, one of each of her parents. They dominated the room, and the child, thought Khushi, savagely. The family, in their attempt to preserve the little girl's memory of her parents, had hung a permanent reminder of the child's loss, to haunt her every time she entered her room.

This was going to be delicate, thought Khushi, heavily. She came in further with Radhika, and studied the picture closely. The dark eyes stared back at her, their expression gentle. Look after my child, they seemed to plead. The girl in the picture, for she was scarcely more than that, was pretty, rather than beautiful, her charm lying mainly in the extreme sweetness of expression. She wore a red and black south Indian silk sari, the border and edge elaborately woven. It was draped in a different style than the one the child wore, and Khushi sighed as she knelt in front of the little girl to try and adjust it to her liking. But it was plain that the little girl had lost her enthusiasm for the present.

She took Radhika back to the others after the child was slightly happier with the style, though the smile did not come back to her face. But Khushi was slightly cheered by the fact that Radhika refused to take the sari off, even while she had dinner. Khushi sat with her while she ate, earlier than the others, then she took the little girl off to bed. Again she noticed that the child's mood visibly drooped when she entered her room, and saw the photographs. She seemed content with Khushi tucking her into bed, and reading her a story, and was half asleep when Shantitai came to call her for dinner, and offered to sit with the child while Khushi ate.

Dinner was a silent affair, Khushi noticed. Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts. Conversation was limited to 'pass the salt, please,' 'pass the daal', and occasional mundane remarks about the food. The senior Mr. Raizada made no attempt to ask Khushi any questions, or get to know better the girl his eldest son had brought home so suddenly. Akash spent dinnertime glaring at his plate and the food, and excused himself as soon as his meal was over. Khushi noticed Arnav's face became black when his brother left the table while the rest were still eating, but he made no attempt to stop his brother. 

Arnav saw Khushi look at Akash when he left, and then back at him.  He shrugged briefly and shook his head imperceptibly, warning her not to say anything in the presence of his father. Khushi sighed inwardly and finished her own meal in silence, her mind starting to work in more professional directions. Arnav needed all the help she could give, she thought. This was a family in mourning, a family torn apart by grief, and like rudderless ships, they were moving away from each other aimlessly, lost, without anyone to give them direction.

How important a woman, a mother, was in a family, she thought to herself. She had grown up without a mother for most of her life, and her little family of three was equally dysfunctional, all pulling in different directions, without a strong binding force. And here, the sudden loss of the older Mrs. Raizada, as well as the younger one, had left the men of the house adrift without any woman at the helm to take charge of home and family. They lived together under one roof, but almost like strangers.