by Anamika GK
A chameleon changes less colors than the number of moods this girl changes, Avish paced near the poolside, quite restlessly. One minute she is all understanding mature girl-woman and another she can give a 5 year old a run for his money. Earlier she was glued to buaji, as if left alone with him he will murder her, and just now... just now she hugged him, as if he is her only savior in the world. How in the name of God does her brain functions? And leave all that aside, Avish was more concerned about himself now. How many emotions can he feel for one person, in one bloody day? From normal friendly housemate, to forced responsibility to tender concern to ... to... to something that he never thought he would associate with Khushi Sharma in his life.
And he definitely owed his puzzled mind an explanation as to when did he become so accommodating for her. And why? Contemplating coming home early, asking her to come to office, canceling Agra trip, which reminded him to call Aman and ask him to go instead and consoling her and offering to accompany her to that fair and what not. Without even realizing it he kept giving in to everything that would make her feel secure and comfortable during her stay with him. He had a fair idea that except for consoling her, whatever else that he was doing for Khushi, does not come under baby-sitting. Then what is all this? All questions and no answers, his mind chided him.
All this was hell confusing, and considering his life experiences he ran a mile away from things he could not comprehend on personal front. Then why does he not want to run away right now? Like he had wanted to run away from her when she had started forcing her friendship on him. Back-foot was his favorite position when it came to people getting too close for comfort with him, specially girls. What the hell changed? She is same, he is same, everything else is same. Must be all this family environment taking over, he tried to convince himself but failed miserably. Argghhh... as if her non-stop chattering was not enough, now all this!
“This girl will really drive me crazy one day”, he muttered sitting on the recliner, with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
Chapter 11
Colorful array of bangles. Elegant kiosk of handicrafts. Lines and lines of ethnic textiles. Handmade pottery pieces with white and blue designs on them. A small Ferris wheel painted with all possible colors in the world, with happy giggling children sitting on it. An old vendor with uneven teeth trying to make a sale, with full vigor and a big smile. Traditional puppets made of glittering gota work and bright colored cotton cloths. Mud huts thatched with dried hay adorned with traditional patterns. A group of youngsters trying to compete each other on the pani-puri stall, laughing in glee. Artistic wooden traditional furniture display. And then... the next pic on the LCD screen of Avish's Nikon SLR Camera was that of Khushi trying a very heavy silver based kundan earring at a kisok, her parted lips and lively eyes proof of the haggling for the right price that was being done simultaneously. A few photographs of that jewelry kiosk followed after that. Then came the picture where Khushi was beautifully smiling at a handicraft artist while interviewing the lady outside the hut allotted to her, with her notepad open in her lap where she took notes for her report.
It was nearing evening and Avish was sitting in the shade of a tree on an elevated stone bench, looking at his clicks on his camera. He just loved the colorful and extensive photo opportunity he got today. Accompanying Khushi was not at all a bad idea, except for the dust flying here that had his pristine New York lungs begging for oxygen, he thought while pressing the forward button of his camera screen. He had taken numerous long shots and close ups of every composition. He smiled in satisfaction. Next few photographs made him frown though. They were all candid shots of Khushi and it struck him that he did not ask her permission before clicking them. In all truthfulness, even he had no idea he had clicked so many of her pics. But in his defense, she was bloody photogenic. Specially her smile, an involuntary twinkle crept up in his eyes at the thought. He had just randomly pointed his camera in her direction while following her around as she took craftsmen's interview for her report. By the end of it, SurajKund Crafts Mela pics were far and few between Khushi's snaps. When the hell did he leave the fair and started clicking her?
“Here. Eat this”, his train of thought was broken by her voice. He hastily switched off the screen display of the camera and looked at the colorful packet that she was holding in his face.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Potato chips. Packaged and sealed by a huge multinational company which guarantees that it is safe to eat it. And if something still happens to you, I'll make sure that bade papa sues them and gets you an apology and adequate compensation”, she said in one breath, looking at him pointedly.
Avish had the decency to look sheepish as he took the packet. Poor girl looked definitely harassed after trying to make him eat for the last hour. “Thanks. You did not have to”, he said while opening the packet.
“Oh! I had to. It's been six hours that we are roaming here and you refuse to eat anything. You are diabetic for God's sake. What if you faint or something? You are supposed to take care of me, not the other way round. I am just making sure it stays that way”, said a hungry Khushi as she tucked in her bhelpuri, guilt free now that she has found something that Avishji cannot refuse to eat citing hygiene issues. Her foreign returned friend had seriously boggled her out of wits with his firangi attitude towards the food at the mela.
“I was managing fine”, Avish retorted. He was not used to being scolded like this.
“For the hundredth time, Bisleri is not food, Avishji”, Khushi replied exasperated.
Avish knew that he had pissed her with his consistent refusal to indulge in any food item here looking at the dust and unhygenic conditions of the food stalls, so he kept quiet.
“Show me the pictures you have taken”, Khushi demanded after a few minutes and scooted towards him.
Avish stilled. “I'll show them to you on my laptop when I transfer them. Camera battery is running low”, he lied. He would sort them out before showing her, he decided.
“Oh! But you did take the kiosk and craftsmen-at-work photographs for me, didn't you?”.
He nodded and she smiled happily, diverting her attention back to her bhelpuri. Avishji was clicking pictures anyway, so she had requested him to take a few for her report as well.
“Carefully”, she heard Avishji say as his hands lightly wrapped around her shoulders while coming out from the open air theater after the cultural show at the Mela. She smiled at him. There were hordes of people rushing out, pushing each other. Khushi had insisted that they stay back for it and now it was night, around 9 pm.
Khushi, not for one moment regretted coming to fair with Avishji. He had done exactly what he had promised, taken care of her. A bit awkwardly, but sincerely nonetheless. Roaming around with her, safe guarding her from crowds by being present around her every step of the way, silently. Earlier today when she had seen some pretty girls throwing admiring glances at Avishji, who was looking handsome in his faded blue jeans and black v-neck pullover with aviators on his eyes, she tried to walk a little away from him, her mind instantly conjuring up Suraj's images of trying not to get spotted with her. But the more she tried to walk away from him, the more Avishji bridged the distance. At last, when she saw confused irritation building up on Avishji's face due to her trying to lose him at every kiosk, she relented and behaved. She figured that a limping companion did not embarrass him and she has to stop comparing everyone to that coward Suraj . Avishji is nothing like that species!
Though she was busy collecting her report material and interspersed shopping spree, she did reflect on the fact that Avishji was a puzzle. He was responsible to the hilt, she can now vouch, but tell him that and she was sure he would flee before you could complete your sentence. It was hard to gauge what was going in his mind for he refused to comment on or commit to anything. Maybe in his work he did that, but that was it. Personally she still did not know much about him as he does not want to talk about himself at all. Such
a miser with words and expression, that it is very easy to misunderstand him. Even today at the fair, where they could have chatted about a thousand things, he just nodded, smiled or spoke in single syllables or lines throughout the day. And for the life of her, she cannot understand what made him like this. His nature, it was definitely schooled, for one could not be so controlled all the time like he was. He did mellow down at random moments, but as soon as it would occur to him that he is loosening up, he would retreat right back into his guarded silence. It was like he deliberately did not want to enjoy, and made a strict point of not liking anything beyond a certain point, a like that could lead to attachment of any kind. Such was his aloofness. His camera was certainly closer to him than the people around him for it had made him smile more than normal today. Must have got some good pictures, she thought.
Avish looked outside the window of the car, which sped on its way to Raizada Mansion. Road lights and shops, some closed, some still open, zoomed past like a blur as the roads were relatively vacant at this hour and his driver Rakesh was making full use of the opportunity. He was now itching to check his emails on his blackberry after one full day away from work, but his phone was with Khushi who was sitting next to him. She was happily recounting the day to her bade papa who had called, to talk about business when his Laddoo had abducted the device. “Just to say hello”, she had assured him. He turned his head sideways to see, if the gossip session was anywhere near its end. Nope, he sighed. One big long hello this is turning out to be!
His thoughts went back to the day today. It was after very long that he had such a relaxing day where thoughts of work did not nag the back of his mind and he knew he had Khushi to thank for it. His expressions softened when he realized that he liked spending the day with her. Photography was just the icing on the cake. This girl had evoked a subtle warmth in his frozen heart by being so very considerate towards him when he did not eat, in a motherly fashion. Actually his mother did not worry much about him if he went empty stomach, but Khushi, she refused to eat until she found something for him as well. A gesture he liked, a lot. She was different outside of home, more patient and more mature too perhaps. At home he has seen her as a kid who was pampered and cared by all, and if he had any doubts about the child in her, she had dispelled them all in one sweep last night with her crying session. She had looked like a lost child scared in the huge empty house and had clung onto him for dear life, and for once in his life, he could not deny someone the emotional reassurance they were asking for, surprising even himself.
He had stopped dwelling into emotions and feelings long ago when his own were trampled over mercilessly, time and again. Much to his discomfort these days he found the door of his heart, where he kept vulnerability locked away, ajar often. Coming back to India was stirring awake the latent desires of his heart to belong somewhere. But, how do you tell your heart that it was weaker of the two decision-making organs, and you are afraid to entertain its expectations? That, you do not have the courage to defy your mind, which has kept you going amid all the chaos in your life till now, and which refuses to let you let go now. Not letting you forget the past hurt, not letting you assuage the guilt of misunderstanding your father for nine years and not letting go of the simmering anger that got silenced over the years but still claws your very existence at as much as a single mention of the past.
“Your phone”, he heard and turned his head as Khushi handed his phone back to him. E-mails occupied his attention the very next second. Work, his refuge from his lonely life, once again helped shut his wandering mind up.
Avish had no idea why he found it hard to be rude with Khushi these days, but whatever be the reason, it was saving her from his sarcastic remarks right now. And the fact that she herself looked a little disappointed in herself standing in the spic and span Raizada kitchen also helped the situation. The day had just turned more eventful.
“Let’s go through this once again. Just to be clear. You gave Hariprakash and Omprakash an off today?”
She nodded.
“And you forgot to mention it to me, that you planned to dine outside because you were busy chatting with dad?”
She nodded again.
“And you have no idea where we can find dinner at this hour in Delhi?”
She shook her head in denial.
“May I ask why did you not mention any of it in the whole day that we were together?
“It is my first time running the house. It slipped my mind. I forgot that there would be no dinner waiting for us at home, because generally it is there”, she gave her best puppy eyes to Avishji. It always worked on bade papa.
Looking at her huge eyes, Avish sighed deeply while controlling an urge to bang his head on something. “Fine. Let us cook something”, he declared.
“It’s my fault, Avishji. I'll make something. What do you want to eat? Bread-butter or Maggi?”, Khushi stepped forward with her gallant offer.
“Neither. I would like to eat something normal people eat for dinner”, he narrowed his eyes at her preposterous dinner options.
Khushi's face fell in an instant and she started looking everywhere but him. Avish's stare intensified on her flushed face. Right now, this girl was an open book.
“Let me make a wild guess. You don't know cooking, do you?”, he folded his hands on his chest.
“I know microwave cooking' she defended her dignity. 'I know how to make rice, maggi, warm up milk, boil potatoes and make bread butter & bread jam too’.
“Awesome”, Avish grumbled sarcastically and made his way to the refrigerator to see what can be whipped up right now. Having been living alone most of his life, he was a decent cook.
After spotting sufficient raw material for making pasta in the fridge and on kitchen counter, Avish started the task of cutting the veggies when Khushi asked, “What should I do? I want to help.”
She was very thankful to God that Avishji knew cooking. As it is they did not eat properly the whole day and now she had to go ahead and forget her own plans for dinner. Now she wanted to be of some assistance to him at least.
“Find a pan and fill it up with water”, he ordered.
Five minutes later Avish 's expectation levels which were not very high to begin with, downright plummeted, after Khushi showed him at least five tentative pans which were totally useless for boiling purpose. He kept the knife down and selected the pan himself, filled it up with water and kept it on the burner to boil.
Khushi then hesitantly picked up a tomato and as if pleading for a second chance to redeem herself, asked, “Should I cut it, Avishji?”
He looked sideways at her skeptically, but nodded.
Khushi instantly went to work. She washed the tomato and selected a knife and procured a cutting board for the task and started cutting. It did not take Avish more than five seconds to confiscate everything back from her.
“What the hell are you doing?”, he was furious. “Where did you get this humongous knife from? And is this how you cut a tomato? Or were you planning to dice your fingers for pasta?' he bit out, forgetting to conceal the concern that laced the outburst.
Khushi gulped quite visibly.
“Do one thing Khushi. do nothing. Go and sit there quietly. You don't need to help. I'll call you when it is done”, he was so stern that it left no room for argument.
A dejected Khushi dragged her feet to the far end of the kitchen counter and perched herself up. I was just trying to help. What was the need to yell? Huh! Sadu Singh Raizada. Show-off, she glared at him silently.
Ten minutes went by and there was no noise other than that of onions sizzling in hot olive oil in the kitchen. Avish was calm now, over the fright that this girl had given him with her culinary skills. He gave a fleeting glance in her direction and found her fidgeting with her polka dotted black scarf and looking at nowhere in particular. So she stuck around, he smiled slightly. He decided to cut this uncharacteristically quiet kitchen disaster some slack.
“How come you don't know
cooking? Not interested or something?'
Khushi's head snapped in his direction. She could not believe her ears that he started a conversation. It was more than what she could expect from him and just like that all was well in Khushi's world. “Oh! I am interested but bade papa does not let me cook”, she chirped and Avish felt an unknown weight disappear from his heart which had settled there due to her silence. While he went back to adding veggies to now cooked onions, Khushi added 'What happened naa, that when I was around 13-14 years old buaji tried to teach me how to make tea. But I could not balance the pan and spilled the hot tea all over myself. But don't think that I gave up. I tried again after a few days but that time I touched the hot pan by mistake and my skin got blistered. Very badly. You can see the faint scars even now, you know. So after that bade papa prohibited me from cooking.”
"Oh" he said adding spices to the veggies.
"But bade papa asked to stay away only from the gas burner, so I made Omprakash teach me how to cook in microwave. If I feel hungry while studying in the night I make maggi for myself or warm up a glass of milk" she shared.
“That's great”, Avish gave a nod of approval while adding the boiled pasta into veggies now.
“And you just wait and watch Avishji, I am going to learn cooking pretty soon. Now I know how important cooking skills are. And for today I am seriously glad that you know cooking, else we would have starved to death. I am so hungry, and you also did not eat anything in the fair. Also since this is Delhi and I am a girl I have never been out this late so I had no idea where we can get a decent dinner. And truthfully, I was very tired to go out and eat at this hour. I am sorry, you must be tired too and yet you have to cook. From tomorrow on I'll put a reminder in my mobile for all the instructions I leave for Hariprakash and Omprakash”. Khushi kept talking with very little participation from Avish who found himself indulgently listening to her tirade, the exact thing he had found ridiculous when his father and buaji did it.