ArShi SS: If I Were You Just For A Day [COMPLETE]

PROLOGUE

They say life is all about the simple phenomenon of give and take.

Take what others give you and return the same to them. Good or bad.

Although majority of the world abided by this simple mantra, there still existed some who never really comprehended this cycle of life, and rather chose the simple scalar system of looking at things.

A singular way of dealing with things, wherein they had no qualms in only giving to the others, having no expectation from the others in return. For they believed that life was much more than the modern concept of give and take, and it was not a barter system.

And for them only one thing mattered.

If they can contribute even an ounce to the happiness of others, to the peace of others, then what's the harm?

She was no different.

.

.

When accusations were hurled at her, she took it.

When blames were thrown at her, she took it.

When she was objectified for the mistakes she never committed, she took it.

When she was coerced into something she didn't want to indulge in, she took it.

When truth came out in the open, she never took a moment to belittle her wrongdoers. She rather chose to be silent and let the truth speak volumes.

When the request for forgiveness came her way, she held those hands, saying bygones were only meant to be bygones and hence, she held no hard feelings and only wanted to proceed towards a better future.

A future she had merrily envisioned with him.

With all little hopes and expectations that she had carved in her life, because for her, little was more, and in nothing, she always found everything.

As she looked at the entire Raizada family engaged in a trivial conversation, the ambiance reflecting congeniality, the one she was extremely distant from due to reasons so obvious, she only had flashes of everything that had conspired today.

The basketball match.

Arnav's ignorance.

The entire family coming together to make it directly or indirectly embark in her mind that she was an outcast.

Their registrations of how Arnav and Aarav were bafflingly similar.

And the camaraderie and awkward glances Arnav and Sheetal shared during the match.

.

She had retreated from there with her mind caught in haze and busied herself doing what she did as a matter of routine during such scenarios: make jalebis.

But there is only an extent to which frying things on a pan could help, isn't it?

.

As Arnav enquired after a while, "Khushi kahan hai?"

She had effortlessly plastered a smile on her face and greeted him.

A tendency she had grown part and parcel with since the very beginning of her life, because it was one such requisite that she could never let go of, given how she only wanted to spread happiness around her, regardless of the many tornados that would consume her mercilessly from within.

"Hum yahan hai."

She had said in her usual chirpy tone, the one she feigned with ease and everything only seemed normal, like it should be.

And that is when one unusual thought struck her mind.

What if she were him?

What if for one day Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada became Arnav Singh Raizada?

The one who wore his heart on his sleeves.

The one who never gave a chance to others to clear a misunderstanding.

The one who acted pragmatically.

The one who held grudges and never believed in the art of letting bygones be bygones.

The one who thought from his mind and not heart.

The one who had angrily torn the DNA reports of him and Aarav and blasted Khushi for being so insecure and not having ample faith in him.

.

.

And she really felt phased out as the haphazard thoughts bubbled in her head, clouding her from thinking anything else further.

As she finally settled on one of the sofas in the living room where everyone else sat, she tried focusing on what her conscience was ushering her to think.

The bustling voices of the family members continued to reverberate in the massive hall of Shantivan, and she only counted her alphabets backwards before mustering up the energy to verbalize what she wanted to. What her conscience was guiding her to be vocal about.

As five seconds passed, she looked at the opposite direction where Sheetal sat, beside Arnav and Mami.

And without a second thought she uttered in a tone that was casual yet prominent,

"So, Sheetal Ji.. For how long did you and Arnav Ji date each other back in Harvard?"

And the consistent congenianity in the air of Shanti Van died a sudden death.

**