To Love or Not To Love

Chapter 13

Warm gusts of wind hit her face, as she stepped out of the air-conditioned surroundings of the Indira Gandhi Domestic Airport.  Someone pushed their trolley into Khushi's legs, and she winced with pain. "I'm sorry", said the stranger. "It's okay. I'm sure no one would do something like that intentionally." The stranger looked at her momentarily. He was just about to respond when a driver clad in a white uniform approached Khushi.

"You must be Khushi memsaab," he said, relieving her of the trolley. Khushi nodded. "Myself Ashok Yadav. I am driver of the ASR. Very pleased to meet you memsaab."

"Pleased to meet you too Ashokji."

The driver shot her a quizzical glance. From what he knew, she was ASR's latest Business Developer. And yet, she looked very different from the ones he had seen traipse in and out of his Saab's life over the last seven years. 

"The car is on the third level of parking lot. Will you wait while I go get car?" he asked cautiously. His experience had taught him to speak to his Saab's business developers in English. They looked down on anyone who spoke in Hindi. So he tried his best. 

"No bhaiyyaji," she sweetly responded. "I would rather walk with you to the parking garage."

And as an afterthought added: "You don't need to talk with me in English. I speak Hindi fluently."

Ashok Yadav smiled, a full-fledged smile, showing all his teeth. He liked this girl. She was different. "Shukriya," he said. Khushi smiled right back at him and the two got talking about the usual things. 

"Is it always so hot in Delhi?" she asked as she began walking towards the parking area, with Ashok leading the way.

"No memsaab, but this year's been extremely brutal. It's already September and yet there is no sign of winter."

Passerby's looked at the precarious way Khushi balanced the bags on her trolley, the number would have put a cargo train to shame.  On her person, Khushi was carrying a backpack and another fairly large cloth bag slung against her shoulder.

"You don't need to call me memsaab, bhaiyyaji," she chirped. "I am almost your daughter's age. Please call me Khushi." And she held her hand out for a shake.

The driver looked at Khushi with renewed respect. He was yet to come across one of his Saab's "Business Developers", who acknowledged him as a human being, forget treating him with the respect this new girl was giving him. There was something special about her. He hoped, that special quality still remained by the time his Saab was done with her.

Oblivious to the thoughts running in his head, Khushi casually chatted away, talking about Lucknow and New Delhi and telling him little stories about her family.

On reaching the vehicle, Khushi took her place in the back seat of the vehicle while Ashok proceeded to load her luggage into the trunk.

*****

It had been over an hour since the car had left the parking lot at the Indira Gandhi Domestic Airport. Lakshmi Nagar was still nowhere in sight.

"How much longer will it take?" asked Khushi, her voice tired.

"Another hour at least bitiya," he replied. In that hour, Ashok had told her that he had three daughters, two of who were of marriageable age and that he was working with ASR for the past seven years. He had proudly stated that although his Saab might seem very inconsiderate on the outside, he had a heart of gold.

"I had just started my job with Saab, when my mother, who is no more, was admitted to the hospital. She had a heart attack and the doctor asked for 50,000 rupees before he would operate on her.