Kaisey Yeh Rishtey - 40

Chapter 40

Arnav looked down at his prone body with satisfaction, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Then he turned to Khushi, and stiffened slightly. She was watching him in something that looked almost like fear.

Arnav wiped the trickle of blood off his chin, and walked towards her slowly, completely ignoring everyone in the room. The police were rushing to restrain a very groggy Shyam and his father.

Arnav faced Khushi.

“It’s over,” he said softly, but firmly. “It’s over, Khushi. You don’t have to go back to them … ever. That’s the last time they tried anything of that sort with you. You’re coming back home now. Your home – our home.”

She looked at him, her eyes enormous, wet, and then gave a small, half-gasp, half sob, and went into his arms. They came around her tightly as he held her close. When they pulled apart, she was sobbing, her arms around him as though he was her lifeline.

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"And now," said Akash, walking forward, "I think we want to know the whole story. I certainly do, and I'm sure Khushi does, as well, don't you, bhabhi?"

They were in the sitting room of the little house. The police had handcuffed Shyam and his father, and Vijay Dhawan also sat down with his two companions. Khushi and Arnav were still standing to one side, Arnav's arms firmly around his wife.

Khushi and Arnav pulled apart. Khushi looked at Arnav, her eyes questioning. Arnav sighed.

"Even I don't know the whole story," he said. "The best person to tell us is probably this man," nodding towards Khushi's 'father'.

"I do know that Khushi's parents both died when she was around two years old. And her grandfather made provision for her, around the same time, but in a very clever way, making sure that the money he provided for her, was used only for her. That was probably the reason for Shyam's jealousy, which ultimately grew so much that it became pure hatred, and he did what he did."

"It wasn't only that," broke in Khushi's 'father'. "Shyam got involved in bad company, started drinking, gambling, drugs. The money was never enough for all that. The allowance was enough for us to have a comfortable life. After all, our household expenses were paid for. But Shyam got greedy. And he got jealous … he always was jealous …"

"Start at the beginning," Arnav commanded. "How is it that Khushi didn't know you were not her father? How did she begin to think of you as her real father in the first place?"

The old man sighed, and seemed to collect his thoughts.

                                  

"It all really began …" he spoke slowly, "I suppose, you could say, everything began the day Khushi was born. We - her parents and I - met at the same hospital. My wife was having a baby the same time, and Shashi, Khushi's father, and I were waiting outside. We were called by the nurse, and we realised we had the same name. He was Shashi Gupta, and I am Shashi Kumar Gupta. We laughed about the coincidence, got talking, and became friendly. Anyway, both our wives had daughters, we congratulated each other, and two days later, we both went home. That was that. Never thought we would meet again.

“Then a month later," the old man continued, "we met again at the same hospital. Shashi was not in a good frame of mind. He had just taken his wife and daughter to her parents' home, and been sent packing. It was then that I realised, that he had married her for her money, and was furious that no money was forthcoming. All his dreams had vanished into smoke. He had started drinking, he was quite drunk when I met him - which was why he spoke to me so freely. He had beaten Khushi's mother, then had sobered enough to bring her to hospital.

I had come for a different reason. My baby daughter was sick. She subsequently … died."

The old man stopped and looked at Khushi. Then he gathered himself enough to go on.

"In that visit to hospital, my wife became friendly with Khushi's mother, Garima. She also felt very sorry for her. Shashi had emptied their home, sold their possessions, thinking he would be welcomed at his inlaws ... so  they were virtually on the streets, and Garima was trying to come to terms with the fact that the man she had left her parents for, had lied to her and had married her only for her money. When there was no money, he had promptly started ill-treating her, in the hope, I think, that she would go back to her parents, and he would be free of his responsibility. But Garima couldn't go. She said her father would never take her back, and she was right."

The old man looked again at Khushi.

"My wife," he said softly, "… had just lost her baby girl. And she had seen Khushi at birth just a month ago. She offered a home to Shashi and Garima, because she wanted Khushi. In Khushi, she saw her own little baby. And so did I. It felt that Khushi had been sent to us to make up for the loss of our own baby. So I didn't object to their coming home. Later, I did. I had no wish to be drawn into their quarrels. But they came and stayed with us for some time, then we found them a room next to ours in the chawl, and they moved in there. Garima and my wife, Ritu, were very friendly, and Shyam who was just 3 years old, treated Khushi like his own baby sister. She had come home just a few days after we lost my baby, and after a while he barely remembered his own sister." 

The old man paused, his eyes shadowed. He seemed lost in thought. Then he looked up at his audience, looked directly at Khushi, and continued.

"A few weeks later, Ritu, my wife died. She had never quite got over the infection that killed her baby. Garima was devastated, she had become very close to Ritu. She took over caring for Shyam, she looked after Shyam as though he too was her child, and it was a big help for me. Shashi and I got along all right. But Shashi and Garima used to fight all the time. She was a girl from a big house, and Shashi had been her father's accountant ... like a munshi. He was a very good looking guy, he looked like he was from a high class type of family, and those were the kind of lies he had told Garima, he’d deceived her into believing he was well off, educated and all, and had been working as their accountant only to be close to her. I think she had lived a very sheltered, protected life. She’d swallowed all those stories, she felt delighted that he loved her so much – and to find out that he’d been lying, that he had barely passed school, had lied he was a qualified accountant, and he was just out for what he could get - that just broke her. Shashi used to fight back - he used to taunt her to go back to her parents, they used to just fight all the time."

The old man stopped and swallowed.

"One night, Garima and Shashi had a big fight. I went to their room and got Khushi, afraid they might hurt the baby. Khushi was about two years old at the time. Shashi slapped Garima and walked out of the room, saying he was never going to return. Garima followed him, screaming. It was raining. Maybe she didn't see where she was going. She …" he paused grimly, not looking at Khushi, "… came under a truck."

Khushi gave a little gasp of horror. Shashi Kumar Gupta continued, in a low flat voice. "She was very badly hurt. I took her to hospital. She made me promise that I would take care of Khushi, that I would not give her to her parents. I think she had no faith that they would take care of her after they had thrown her – Garima – out, and her big fear was that they would send Khushi to an orphanage. I owed Garima a lot – despite her own troubles, she had looked after Shyam like her own son after my wife died, and I was fond of Khushi, so I agreed. Garima died, and I was left with two babies to look after. Khushi was two, and Shyam was five. Shashi never came back after that night – I think he didn’t even see the accident.”

Mahendra Shah leaned forward. Shashi Gupta continued.

"I had a job as a chaprasi in a small office. Not too much money, wife gone, and two babies to look after. Khushi used to keep crying for her mother. It was too difficult for me to keep my promise, I thought, so I wrote a note to Garima's parents, that Garima had died in an accident and left a baby. I signed it Shashi Gupta - that was the name I usually used - I hardly used the Kumar - and sent it, along with a copy of Garima's death certificate to her father's address."

"A few days after that, I was visited by a pair of lawyers. I was holding Khushi. She had started calling me baba. She didn't remember her father very much, and I had always been around for her. The lawyers asked if I was Shashi Gupta. I said yes. It was only later I realised they were looking for Khushi's father, not me. Anyway, they saw Khushi in my arms, calling me baba, they assumed I was her father. They checked Garima's death certificate, and then made me their offer from her father. I would receive a monthly stipend to take care of Megha, on the condition the money was spent on her, and only on her. I realised their mistake, so I told them that I wasn't related to Khushi, and they could take her with them. I didn't want their money, and I definitely didn't want another mouth to feed. They were confused but they didn't take her ... those were not their instructions. A couple of days later, they came back. Khushi's grandfather made me another offer. He was not going to keep the baby. Either I agreed to look after her, and he paid money for her upkeep, or I sent her to an orphanage. He offered a higher sum of money, and I got tempted. So I accepted. The next time the lawyers came, about a year later, they said she had to start school. The fees would be paid directly to the school, and I would receive my stipend as long as she was registered at school and then college. Garima had been a bright student, a scholarship holder, so the grandfather wanted his granddaughter to be educated.

I asked to be shifted to a good house, in a better area, so that she could go to a good school. I thought it would be good to get out of the chawl where everyone knew that I wasn’t Khushi’s father, so questions wouldn’t be asked about how and why I could afford her school and all. I was shifted to this house, but it was in Khushi's name. The money was paid in Khushi's name. The lawyers never came again, but I knew they kept an eye on her. Then, we started getting parcels every month or two, with food, chocolates, and clothes, lots of clothes for Khushi. Shyam went in rags, simple cheap clothes, but Khushi was always dressed well. He went to the local government school, but her admissions were taken care of, in the best private school of the area. School trips, functions, special classes, all extras – she had it all. If money was required, all I had to do was register her name and it was paid directly to the school – we never got it. Slowly, as they grew older, Shyam's jealousy started building up. He started to question me, why I couldn't spend money on his extras, his clothes, his cricket bat ... and I had to tell him why.  Knowing she wasn't his sister, made his jealousy worse. He used to trouble her, even hit her, but I kept an eye on him. Partly for my wife, because Ritu had loved her. Partly for myself. I had brought her up, and taken care of her from birth, I did care for her, but also I was scared that if she was ill-treated, she might be taken away from me, and the payments would stop. And by now I was used to the extra money – it made life very comfortable for us. But by the time she was in college, Shyam was into bad company, and his demands for money never stopped. I was just a peon. I couldn't meet his demands. He stopped studying - he was never interested anyway, and started one job after another – never stuck to any place because of his drinking. Khushi kept studying, she wanted to, and I encouraged her - our money would stop when she stopped studying or got married. Then Shyam got into that stupid mess in Arnav Singh Raizada's company, and Mr. Raizada came into Khushi's life, and packed us off."