"...
... having a grip on reality is not as easy as it sounds. There always comes a day when you realize that maybe you never knew how you'd define reality. Your reality. And that is when it becomes harder to digest the facts in your reality... And that is when you lose that battle within yourself and you begin to hunt your way down to the limbo, looking for solutions...
..."
***
"Arre oh Sanka Devi," Madhumati knocked on Khushi's door. The wooden frame shook and creaked slightly. "Open the door. Don't you want to attend Lakshmi Pooja? The food is ready. I've made your favorite food - Jalebis and Aloo!"
Khushi flinched as she heard another firecracker explode outside her window. The aftershocks of the bang drummed on her ears; she felt her palms as they flew to her head and pressed against her ears. She heard a faint ringing sound as she tried to cut herself from the world. And that's when something snapped inside her abruptly - as if she was pulled from another world. Or into another world.
Her heartbeats escalated without a warning; her heart thumped hard against her ribcage at an unusual pace. An eerie sense of discomfort cocooned her in its arms. She shrugged it off, but the feeling refused to part with her. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm her down, hoping that whatever the weird feeling was, would go away on its own.
"Arre parmeshwari! We are waiting for you! Did you hear me at all?" Madhumati's voice floated to her ears from the other side of the closed door.
"I'm coming, Buaji," she called out, somehow finding it in herself to reply to the loving lady, "I'll just take another couple of minutes."
"Hurry up," she heard Buaji say before she noted a tinkle of bangles float away from her.
"Ji, Buaji," Khushi replied, more to herself this time. She knew Madhumati was no longer standing at the door. She took a deep breath as she walked back to the bed and bent down to pick up the letter. She folded it neatly again and with one last glance kept it on the table. She was about to turn and leave when she backed up to put her pen-stand over the letter for weight.
Till later,
Love, Arnav...
Words flashed before her eyes. She blinked.
She stood in front of the mirror and adjusted her dupatta when she felt the heat rising up her body. A bead of sweat trickled down her face. She raised her hand to touch the small droplets of perspiration on her face, feeling a frown that weaved creases across her forehead. Something wasn't right. She looked at her reflection in the mirror in confusion. The weather was pleasantly cold; she didn't understand why she was burning up. She couldn't explain the heat around her.
"Khushi!" Garima's voice reached her through the door.
"Uff oh Amma," Khushi yelled back, her voice octave higher than normal. She wiped the newly formed drops of sweat. "I'm getting ready."
Khushi turned on her heels; her swift movement knocked down a couple of perfume bottles from her dressing table and smashed them onto the floor. She cursed herself for her negligence as the glass shards swiftly move around the room. The pieces of glass made her realize that the ceiling fan was rotating at maximum speed. Her eyes followed the random swirls of the small pieces of the glass across the room as the blades revolved at the set momentum.
Her frown deepened; no, she couldn't understand why she was sweating the way she was.
She shook her head in exhaustion; it felt heavy - as if pulled by something much stronger than gravity. And it kept getting heavier.
Thank you so much for helping the little boy chase his passion from a young age.
I miss you so much, Khushi.
Love, Arnav
Words engraved in her own handwriting came floating through the room to her. She squeezed her eyes shut. But she didn't know it was the letter she had penned down earlier that week. No, not at that moment, she didn't. Because in it, Arnav had told her that he missed her and he loved her.
Love, Arnav...
And suddenly, she was afraid. She felt a band tighten around her chest when she tried to breathe. But why?
Later, Khushi thought to herself, this is not the time to think anything. Nobody would be coming to the room anytime soon anyway. You have all the time to think about this strange thing after the Pooja. She reached the door and pulled down the bolt when suddenly the world spun around her. She tried to steady herself and gripped the handle of the door for support.
She felt a waft of fresh air from the living room come her way. She smiled involuntarily at the soothing feeling that spread through her at first contact. But the next moment, the room revolved around her for the second time and she lost her balance. The last thing she remembered was the panic calls from her family who came running to her. They blurred and disappeared before she could hold on to those images for longer.
Don't you want to attend Lakshmi Pooja?
The words intermingled with one another as she neared the floor. No, they weren't making sense. The tiny pores in the worn-out ceramic tiles became larger and larger as she sank lower.
I'm coming, Buaji!
Love, Arnav...
I'm getting ready!
She recalled random words from somewhere before she drifted into oblivion.
***
"KHUSHI!" Garima sprinkled some water on her face, "Bitiya, please open your eyes! Jiji, bring some more ice for her from the freezer. And a dry scarf to wipe off her sweat."
Madhumati nodded and hurried into the kitchen. She returned after a minute, carrying a tub of ice-cubes in her hands. "Take this, Garima. I will call the doctor."
Garima nodded, "I don't understand it, Jiji. She was fine just now. She even helped me prepare the dinner! I don't know what happened all of a sudden... I don't know how," her words faded as she concentrated on her daughter lying on the bed. She wiped the fresh onslaught of perspiration off her forehead. "She's sweating so much," she murmured, "Bitiya, open your eyes, please, Khushi."
Madhumati threw open a couple of drawers and browsed through the telephone diaries that she had preserved over years. "Doctor... Doctor... Doctor...," she murmured as she turned the pages, "Yeah, there it is, Doctor Sharma."
"I'll go and call him," she told Garima, "You wait here with Khushi bitiya. But I still don't understand. Khushi was watching Television beside me when the doorbell rang and she - hang on - it was a postman, wasn't it?"
No sooner did the words escape her, Garima's eyes widened in horror. "You mean to say -"
Madhumati nodded at her sister-in-law, her expressions mirroring those of the other woman in the room, "- yes, she wrote another letter."
Garima dropped the towel she was holding as the words sank in. "No," she whispered, "But Jiji, if she received another letter, it must be here - in the room itself."
"Yes, it should be," Madhumati agreed, albeit unwillingly, "I'll search for it."
She pranced across the room. She noticed small pieces of glass scattered around the room. Her eyebrows rose in lour. "AeGarima", she called, "Do you think we should inform Arnav babua about it? He was supposed to come back from the conference today, is that right? Didn't he say he'll come today?"
***
Arnav took a sip from his coffee as he paced in his room, pulling files from his bag and arranging them onto a shelf. No sooner did he finish putting the last of the files, he rushed out of his study and into his room. He settled himself on the recliner and kept the mug on the coffee table in front of him. He looked around in the room.
The evident loneliness in the room stung him briefly, but he waved it off. It had been two months since he'd seen Khushi in person. The sweet peal of her laughter, the soft tinkle of her anklets, her feminine fragrance that tamed all the fruits and flowers in the world combined, the softness of her milky skin - he had missed her a lot. A lot, he thought, that's an understatement, Arnav. Video calls are not enough.
His lips curved into a small smile as he realized that he won't be staying alone in the room anymore. He decided that he was leaving for Gupta House that moment to pick her up; two months were long enough for him to not feel her in his arms. He knew he'll go mad if he doesn't see her in front of him anymore.
He picked up his phone from in front of him and dialed her. He waited impatiently as the phone rang.
"Khushi," he spoke into the phone when the line got connected. His husky tone was laced with just enough need and passion enough to send shivers down her spine - irrespective of the distance between them. It had been always like this between them. He had found it strange at the beginning, but he knew he would never trade this feeling for anything in the world. Because being around her felt like home. His home. "How are you? Jalebi kha rahi ho? How many? Should I even guess? Did I make you stress-eat too much past two months? I hope you haven't put on, Khushi. Well, not that you would. And not that I'd mind," he chuckled as he waited for her reply.
"Arnav Babua," Madhumati's voice startled him. He wasn't expecting that. He checked the number again in case he had accidentally called the residence instead of her cell phone. No, he had dialed her.
Arnav cleared his throat, embarrassed, "Ji Namaste Buaji!" he said quickly, "Where's Khushi?"
"Umm," Madhumati began, but paused momentarily, unexpectedly unsure about how to string words into a sentence. "Woh, Khushi - she -"
"Okay, how are you?" Arnav asked when he heard nothing from the other end for longer than what could be considered normal. He closed the file he had brought back with him and leaned back on the recliner. He loosened his tie as he waited for Madhumati's reply. "Oh, by the way, Happy Diwali, Buaji!" he added, his fingers fumbled with the top button of his waistcoat and pulled it open. He got up to his feet and sauntered to his wardrobe.
"Happy Diwali to you too, Babua," her response seemed reflexive. Strange, he thought to himself, Why wasn't she saying anything about Khushi?
He picked up a sweater from the rack and closed the door. "Buaji," he hesitated, "Can you please pass the phone to Khushi? Or maybe ask her to call me back if she's busy? I just uh - I just came home from the airport."
There was a knock on the door. Arnav's head turned mechanically to the direction of the sound. He saw Sheetal leaning against the frame, silently observing him. Arnav gestured her to come in.
"Hold on for a minute, Buaji," he said on the phone as he watched Sheetal walk towards him.
Madhumati exchanged glances with Garima as she heard Arnav mumble something on the other side. "Yes, Sheetal?" she heard something legible after a while.
Sheetal sashayed into the room, her curvaceous hips moving with her deliberate, seductive gambol, "Arnav - actually, I just came to ask you how you liked the coffee." She leaned in and quietly planted a kiss next to his cheek as she lightly hugged him. "I made it," she added.
Arnav pulled her arms from around him as politely as he could and stepped back. "It's alright," he told her, his voice flat, "Thanks. If you don't mind, I - I'm on the phone."
Her plastic smile froze in place at the obvious dismissal in his voice. "Oh... Okay," she blandly tried to cover up for her disappointment, "I guess I'll come back later." She turned to go back, heavily crestfallen.
"Sure," he shrugged nonchalantly, "Yeah, Buaji, sorry about that. Umm, Khushi... Is she really busy? Maybe that's why she didn't call me when I landed. I was wondering about it."
Madhumati took a deep breath before she spoke, "Babua, Garima, and I were thinking if you are coming here today."
"Of course, I am coming. How can miss the Lakshmi Pooja with you, Amma and Babuji?" he squealed, "I can stay over too, or Khushi and I can come back home if you don't mind."
If it was another time, Madhumati would have smiled at the subtle excitement in his tone at seeing his wife after so long. She silently hoped if the situation was different so that she could have enjoyed it the loving fervor embedded deep in his words. She hated it that she had to disclose Khushi's situation this way. But he was her husband. He had the right to know - he would find out soon enough anyway. She took a deep breath as she spoke, "The thing is, Babua, Khushi - she, actually, she - isn't well, we think."
Arnav dropped his sweater to the ground, "What happened? Is she alright?" he almost squealed with an unmistakable panic dripping through every syllable he uttered. He saw Sheetal stop at the door and turn back at him from the periphery of his vision, but he ignored her.
Madhumati glanced over her shoulder at Khushi on her bed, "I can't tell you that on the phone - I don't know what's wrong. It'll better that you come here."
Arnav picked up his car keys from the coffee table. "I'm on my way, Buaji. You take care of Khushi. Did you call the Doctor? Or should I? I can ask Dr. Jaitly to come to Laxmi Nagar..."
"No, we called our Doctor already," Madhumati informed him, "Woh Babua, we are sorry to trouble you when you just came from your trip abroad -"
Sheetal walked back the distance she had moved away. She kept her hand on his shoulder and pressed it comfortingly, "What happened to Khushi?" she grimaced.
"Not now, Sheetal," he hissed, annoyed, as he took her hand off him and hurried out of the room. "And stop doing that - everything that you do for me! I know you mean well, but please don't intrude."
Sheetal stared at his back as he ran down the stairs of Shantivan, his phone glued to his ears. "Buaji, what are you saying? Khushi is my wife! You are my family! You don't need to say anything like this, please," he urged Madhumati, "Don't think like that!"
"Bless you, Babua," she said as the call ended, "Come soon. She needs you," she added, more to herself.
***
Author's Note:
So how many of you are confused after reading this part? Well - the only explanation I have right now is that I worship suspense, I adore drama and I hate cliche!
And to those of my readers who requested that I change the concept, thank you so much. You guys told me that I hit home with the first part and that the intent of the first part reached out as well as I had hoped. But honestly, though, what did you think this ShortStory or the concept was? I'm curious.
Let me know if you enjoyed this chapter. If you did, please let me know by hitting vote or by dropping a comment! I truly appreciate it!
Until next time,
Stay safe,
Love,
Pearl