Strangers No More - A Love Story

by MK Lam

  “Your sister assumed that we would judge her harshly. I still have nightmares seeing her body hanging from the ceiling...” She looked at Khushi with tears streaming down her face.

  “You know she always hated to see anyone cry...” Khushi gave a wistful smile.

  “Please accept this gift Khushi” Gita gently put the package in her daughter’s hands. It was the heartfelt plea in her mother’s voice that made Khushi accept the package. She was taken aback to see the exquisite pearl set inside.

  “It was your grandmother’s. You know how she struggled to make sure your father got a good education. Your father bought this set for her with his first paycheck.”

  Khushi trembled when she picked up the strands of pearl from the box. She had heard so many stories of her doughty grandmother from her dad. Widowed at a young age, her grandmother had been courage itself in human form.

  ‘Dadi, if I can become half the woman that you were...’

  When Khushi walked back into the living room, Arjun who had been speaking to his grandmother stopped in mid-sentence. He silently admired picture that Khushi presented, with the pearl necklace around her neck. When he saw Khushi’s relaxed face, he realized he’d been holding his breath and felt relieved.

  As Arjun listened to the sounds in the kitchen he found himself thinking, ‘whoever said that families who cooked together stayed together’ certainly knew what they were talking about. The mood in the kitchen was a reflection of the joy pervading the Rathore mansion.

  When Anu came back home from her office, she gravitated towards the sound of laughter and was pleasantly taken aback. Her brother was unrecognizable. There were traces of flour all over his face and hands. Rivulets of sweat were dripping from his forehead and he had this panicked look on his face as he was trying to knead some dough. When he saw Anu, he got alarmed.

  “Di, please don’t start your Chotte dialogues. Not today, certainly not in front of my mother-in-law here!” Anu felt the tears of joy threatening to flow down her face. The scene, absent for too long in their home, looked so natural. So domestic. It was the normalcy that the Rathores had been craving for all their lives. She looked at Khushi with gratitude.

  Bed time came all too soon for Khushi. As she was lying in bed hugging her husband, Khushi gently asked the question that she’d been working up to ask.

  “Have you noticed the change in Di after she started working at the NGO?”

  “Hmm...yes. I’ve never seen her so relaxed since our parents died. She’s become quieter and more focused.

  “What happened to Di? Was she badly affected?”

  “Di had a nervous breakdown. Nani and I tried our best. I was only fourteen then and terrified that I was going to lose her too. It took a lot of medical help, prayers and support from everyone to pull her out of it. She’s always been a bit fragile and when she married that womanising cheat it became worse.”

  It was a day of revelations.

  Chapter 4: Goals

  Perform your prescribed duty, for action is better than inaction. A man cannot even maintain his physical body without work.

  Bhagavad Gita (3:8)

  The week leading to the AR Group’s annual event had Khushi burning the candle at both ends. When she wasn’t catching up on project work assigned by her teachers in college, she was on the phone with the company’s PR team. She had managed to rope in an actor and a cricketer to be the keynote speakers at the function. When Anu asked her about the caterers Khushi murmured, “My classmate’s uncle has taken over this task and...”

  “Khushi has gone through the menu with him,” Arjun piped in.

  “You’ve started completing one another’s sentences! Hmm...?” Anu laughed.

  Devaki commented, “Khushi reminds me of a butterfly that keeps flitting around...”

  “More like a bullet train Nani!” snorted Arjun with a hint of pride in his eyes. Khushi didn’t respond to their teasing. Her eyes dimmed for a fraction of a second. Her parents had often referred to their twin girls as the butterfly and the bee.

  “Khushi, what are you wearing for the event? Have you selected a sari?” Anu was a woman on a mission. Saris were her forte.

  “Let’s go shopping, I know just the place. I can visualize you in that shade of blue or green with the peacock motif-what do they call the colour? Rama’s blue?”

  “No, Di. I’ve already got my wife a sari. She’s going to wear that.” Arjun sounded firm. Khushi and Anu gaped at him.

  “I think there’s going to be a thunderstorm today. My brother has bought a sari for the first time. When Lekha couldn’t find her credit card the other day, he paid for her sari and didn’t even look at it. You know how crazy she’s about that colour!” Anu’s words eased a tight knot in Khushi’s chest. When she turned towards Arjun, he winked at her.

  “Close your mouth—I don’t want you swallowing any flies!” he whispered with a naughty smile.

  She was dying with curiosity about the sari that he’d had bought for her. “Where is it?” she asked him. He merely shrugged his shoulders. She stomped her feet at the sphinx-like expression on his face. In her haste to get to the bedroom, she tripped over the sofa. “Careful! Watch where you’re going!” Did she imagine the panic in his voice? His words were a caress to her gladdening heart.

  Gorgeous. She stopped as her eyes feasted on the sari lying on the bed. It was a deep red—made in the finest of Kanchipuram silks with a black border. The gold zari in the border and the paisley pattern on the body added to its allure. She picked up the blouse that accompanied the sari.

  It was a designer creation with intricate embroidery on the front and sleeves—it made up in oomph with the niggling amount of material in the back.

  She was puzzled. But how on earth had he gotten it stitched?

  That was when she noticed her old blouse placed next to the sari.

  Did he actually look for a blouse in my wardrobe? If this is a dream, let me never wake up.

  The morning of the AR Group event saw two harried women running around the house for different reasons. While one worried about the logistics, transportation and media coverage, the other pondered whether her sari and jewellery would befit the occasion. Khushi smiled at her sister-in-law indulgently as the latter constantly sought reassurance about her appearance. In moments like these, she felt older than Anu.

  Arjun had pulled out all stops to make this event memorable to the family. Sitting next to her in the backseat of the limousine, Arjun couldn’t stop looking at his wife. She was a vision in red. The only jewellery she wore was the mangalsutra on her neck and his mother’s coral bangles on her dainty hands. His wife looked like a gift from the Gods. He was certainly going to end up like a blithering idiot at the event if he didn’t rein in his emotions. When he wrapped his hand around his wife’s shoulders after they stepped out of the car, the shutterbugs went wild.

  “Keep smiling and moving sweetheart.” His husky voice blanked out her initial fear at the cameras and the volley of questions aimed at her. She was vaguely conscious of being guided to her seat in the front row.

  In the first hour there was a riveting dance show by a troupe from Mumbai performing to the latest Bollywood hits with a famous actor leading from the front. Then the dashing cricketer made a fervent pitch for raising funds towards an orphanage in the city.

  When Arjun took the stage Khushi preened. He held the audience spellbound with his magnetic personality and speech. When he thanked his shareholders and employees she desperately rummaged her purse for a tissue. She would have missed it if she hadn’t looked up at him.

  “The one person who’s responsible for making this event such a success. My wife, my life – Khushi.” His twinkling eyes and open smile almost undid her.

  Later that night when she lay nestled in his arms, the events of the day seemed surreal. She was basking in a glow of contentment.

  “Arjun, is marriage all about finding your way through a labyrinth?” she asked aloud. When he di
dn’t respond she looked at him. He was fast asleep with a hint of a smile on his face.

  Chapter 5: Endings

  There is no real ending. It’s just the place where you stop the story.

  Frank Herbert

  It was almost over.

  Khushi’s finals were coming up in a week. It seemed like yesterday when she had reacted so virulently at a word thrown in a fit of anger. She still had a lot to learn about the man she was married to. It was like peeling the layers of an onion.

  It had taken her a month after her birthday for the dam to burst. She had wept in Arjun’s arms as she talked about Aarushi and what had transpired on the eve of their wedding. The catharsis had completely drained her and the strong arms that held her that night had rocked her gently to sleep. He had persuaded Gita and Sunil Gupta, Khushi’s parents to go on a trip to the holy cities of Benares and Hardwar. The Guptas had returned home a month later rejuvenated in mind and spirit. The loss of their daughter Aarushi lingered but it was more a dull ache.

  •

  When Anu Rathore took over the NGO little did she imagine how this would transform her life. Much to her brother’s astonishment she proved to be a formidable force while interacting with people at work.

  “Chotte, I need to do this on my own, so don’t hover! If I stumble, let me learn to get up on my own.” For the first time, Anu’s Chotte backed off. Besides Arjun knew his wife wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if he intervened. But even Arjun and Khushi were caught on the back foot the day Anu brought home a guest.

  “This is Amit Khanna. He’s the lawyer who’s been helping me with the case involving those unwed mothers from Patna.” The anxiety in her eyes betrayed her feelings about the lawyer to Khushi though the others didn’t cotton on.

  When Anu insisted on making the tea and snacks for their guest, Khushi’s suspicions coalesced into certainty. Her sister-in-law needed all the help that she could get right now.

  Khushi had the unenviable task of bearding the lion in his den later that night.

  Predictably enough Arjun pounced on her as she entered their room a few hours later. “I’m going to run a background check on this Amit Khanna. Are you certain she’s interested? Unless I’m fully convinced, I won’t give the green signal...” As he rattled on, Khushi dreamt of weddings and the sound of shehnai ringing in the background. There was a silly smile on her face as she nodded off.

  •

  When the bell rang Khushi jumped up from her seat and raced out of the building. Finally she was done with her exams. There he was leaning against his car and grinning like a Cheshire cat. When the other girls in the campus stared at him unabashedly she wanted to tear their eyes out.

  ‘He’s mine, back off girls!’ she wanted to scream.

  Then she saw the glint in his eyes. Dammit, he was enjoying the show and reveling in her bout of jealousy.

  “You’re not the only one here cornering the market. I had a hard time dropping you off every morning when I saw those boys ogling you!” he whispered when she walked upto him. When he looked into her eyes, he saw a reflection of his own feelings.

  How, When, Where—none of that mattered. Arjun and Khushi had fallen in love.

  ###

  NOTE

  Thank you for staying with me as we followed Arjun and Khushi. Love comes softly, as American author Janette Oke puts it. This is often the case with arranged marriages. I am sure Arjun and Khushi will fight for the silliest of reasons and make up in the most spectacular way. It is their journey after all and it will be sacrilegious on our part if we don’t follow them. So sign up to receive news on upcoming adventures of this lovable couple on my blog.

  About the author

  MK Lam is the nom de plume of a musician and writer, who finds it hard to tear herself away from the novels she devours daily. A fan of all things romance and suspense, MK Lam is working on her first full-length novel featuring Khushi as a single mom.

  She blogs at https://mklamwrites.wordpress.com/

  GLOSSARY

  Hindi—English

  Amma—mother

  Beta/Beti—Son/Daughter

  Chotte—Little one

  Dadi—Grandmother (paternal)

  Dhal—Dried pulse used to make stew

  Di— Elder sister

  Jalebi— A desert made with white flour and sugar syrup

  Mangalsutra—wedding necklace

  Nani—Grandmother (maternal)

  Paagal—Crazy

  Roti—tortillas made of wheat flour

  Shehnai—musical wind instrument

  EXCERPT from A BROKEN CORD by MK Lam

  Chapter 1. Calm before the storm

  Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great.

  Roger de Bussy-Rabutin

  The flight had landed on time. Her bags were taking a long time to come. Every muscle in her body ached as Khushi stared at the moving carousel. The couple standing next to her gave her a weary smile. The wait seemed interminable and all she wanted to do was get home and curl up in her own bed. She had been travelling for the last twenty-four hours.

  “Mamma, our suitcases are here!”

  The hazel-eyed little boy standing next to her jumped in excitement. The cherubic face of her son Arjun tugged at her heart. Khushi smiled despite her exhaustion.

  “Mamma, now we can go home!” Arjun beamed at her before pointing to the suitcases on the carousel moving towards them. Khushi picked up her bags and headed out of the baggage claim area with Arjun holding onto her.

  “Sorry, sorry. I got held up on the freeway. There was a huge pileup on the freeway as there was an accident. I can still hear the sirens ringing in my head!” The man who approached them touched his ears with a contrite expression.

  “Nand uncle! I missed you so much. Do you know what happened on the plane?” Arjun turned his shiny eyes at the man who bent down to give the boy a tight hug. Nand Kishore Chawla and Khushi exchanged quiet smiles over Arjun’s head as the little boy chattered all the way to the parking lot.

  As they were heading out of the airport Nand Kishore or NK as he preferred to be called turned to Khushi.

  “So how was the trip? Happy to be back?”

  “Hmm. I missed work.”

  And I missed you.

  NK couldn’t voice his thoughts. He knew that Khushi would be uncomfortable. Every time he tried to take their relationship a step further she would turn him down gently.

  “Shall we stop by and grab something to eat? There’s a new Thai restaurant on Castro in Mountain View.”

  “I’m very tired NK. Rain check?” Khushi gave him an apologetic smile.

  Khushi sensed the disappointment in him as he shrugged his shoulders. Watching him interact with Arjun, she realized how lucky she was to have him in her life, their lives.

  There was a nip in the air when they headed out of the airport in San Francisco. Khushi was reminded of Mark Twain’s comment – “the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.” She shivered as she rolled up the windows of the car.

  They stopped on the way to pick up a pizza as Arjun begging them for one and headed to Khushi’s apartment in the South Bay.

  The beige sofa set in the living room with its paisley design and matching cushions had a welcoming feel to both the mother and son. Pretty soon, after wolfing down the pizza, Arjun nodded off and Kushi found herself yawning.

  “Get some rest. I’m sure you’re tired after the long flight,” said NK as he stood up. He stopped by the front door, paused for a moment and turned back at her.

  “Khushi how was everyone at home?”

  “Hmm. Ma and papa are doing great. It was good.”

  She stared into his eyes and repeated. “It was good NK.” She knew what he was trying to ask her. It was the same answer. Nothing had really changed in the last five years. NK gave her a brief smile and walked out whistling in the dark.

  Khushi worked as a design en
gineer for a large corporation in the Valley. NK was a senior manager at the same company. When Khushi had worked with NK on a project the previous summer the two had hit it off and had become good friends. Arjun too had taken an instant liking to NK and the three of them often spent time together.

  As Khushi settled herself on the bed next to her son she sighed deeply. Things were going well for her at work and on the home front. With Arjun about to start kindergarten, Khushi didn’t anticipate any drastic changes in her routine. But why was there an uneasy feeling in her heart?

  If she had had an inkling of the upcoming storm in her life she would have run for the hills.

  Chapter 2. Behind the eight ball

  If you carry your childhood with you,

  you never become older.

  Tom Stoppard.

  The loud tone of the alarm clock startled Kushi. She woke up with a jerk and felt disoriented for a moment. When she turned to her side she heaved a sigh of relief. Arjun was fast asleep. Looking at those curls falling over his forehead she sighed with pleasure.

  Ah! The sleep of the innocent… what would it be to lie like this child - blissfully unaware of the challenges thrown at you?

  She thought of her own childhood when her father would pat her to sleep. He would pinch her cheeks lovingly and whisper, “my little butterfly”. Shashi Gupta was an indulgent father while his wife Garima struggled to instill some discipline in her daughter. Khushi was a mischievous girl who was solely responsible for every gray hair on her mother’s head.

  Madhu Bua or Maddy Boo, as Khushi used to call her father’s sister, would often hit her own forehead in despair whenever she thought about Khushi. When Khushi was out of earshot Maddy Boo would hum her favourite ditty from the movie Sound of Music changing the lyrics to suit her mood. How do I solve the problem of Khushi? Boo would sing in such an off-key tone that Khushi would howl with glee.

  But strangely enough, niece and aunt sneaked out of the house some evenings when the senior Guptas were busy with household chores. The two women, one in her teens and the other being a teen-at-heart, would gobble golgappas and happily munch on bhel as they stood on the roadside lost in their own world. One day Shashi had caught them in the act and had lost his temper.

  “It’s bad enough that I have a daughter behaving so irresponsibly but not you too Didi....so careless and so unhygienic. You can fall sick eating like this.”