Nayika Writes

Please note I retain sole ownership of all these works of fiction on this blog so please do not reproduce or alter my work and claim it as your own.   Read P art 1 HERE.

Part 5 18.15 to 23.50  

31.50 to 35.30 Part 4 Asher drew the curtains and then tucked the blanket around Khirad. He wanted her to be as comfortable as she could be on the thin hospital mattress. She needed to rest. He knew she hadn't slept last night and they had spent the whole day pacing the hospital corridor waiting for the results of Hareem's operation. The surgery had been successful, Hareem would recover and Asher knew he should be elated and he was. But the thought that Khirad no longer needed him, that she would leave him again and take Hareem with her this time pressed on his mind, not allowing him to even breathe a sigh of relief that his daughter's life was no longer in danger. He sat on the chair beside the bed, the one reserved for family members visiting their ill relatives and that's all he was to Hareem and Khirad. He was a visitor into the small world they had made for themselves when he had refused to acknowledge them four years ago. He had abandoned them...

27.05 to 29.30 Part 3 Khirad was determined that she wouldn't fall asleep again; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction but Khirad was so tired. She was tired of putting on a happy face for Hareem, tired of ignoring Asher's mother's underhanded jibes and tired of Asher's accusing glares. If it hadn't been Hareem's last night at home before she had to be admitted to the Hospital for her treatment Khirad would have refused. She would have asked Asher to put Hareem to sleep on his own and gone to her own bed to cry in peace. She wanted to cry for the injustice of Hareem, only four years old and having to have surgery on her barely formed heart. Why couldn't she have been the one with congenital heart disease instead of her daughter? Khirad's heart was strong and it was strengthened even further every day by the accusations she could see in Asher's eyes. When she was certain Hareem wouldn't awake again Khirad kissed her on the ...

16.40 to 19.00 Part 2 ‘Hareem you listen to your story and then I’ll come and take you to sleep.’ It was the first time Khirad had come into their old room, into Asher’s room and she wanted to leave as soon as possible. She wanted to stop her eyes darting to the side-table where she used to keep her jewellery at night, or to the wall that now hung bare no evidence that it once held up a picture of a happily married couple, or the dresser that was no longer adorned with bangle stands and ornate perfume bottles. ‘Mamma you lie down and listen to the story with me as well.’ How easily that request fell from Hareem’s lips. How casually she sat on the very same bed where her existence had begun nearly 5 years ago, where Khirad had given her existence to Asher. ‘I’ll stand here and listen, okay.’ She had never wanted Hareem to hate her father; his offences against her were hers alone to bear. So she had always spoken highly of Asher when Hareem enquired about ...

Part 1 ‘You’ve called here today but don’t call again. Because for me you’re dead! Neither do I want to see your face nor do I want to hear your voice. Now I have no relation with you.’ Asher played with his glasses in his hand absently as he tried to recall her voice. He hadn’t heard her voice today, hadn’t given her a chance to speak knowing how weak she made him feel. Did he remember what she looked like? His forehead creased as his brain threw up an image but it was blurry. She was wearing black, her hair was loose but her face eluded him. He remembered her sharp nose, her wide set mouth and her brown sparkling eyes but still he couldn’t picture her face. He let go of his glasses, heard them clattering onto the side-table as threw his head back against the headboard. Why was he doing this to himself? He didn’t want to remember the voice that had fed him honey-coated lies or the face that had tricked him with its innocent facade. --- She had been ...

Read all my other One Shots over here . Please note I retain sole ownership of all the works of fiction on this blog so please do not reproduce or alter my work and claim it as your own.

Read the rest of this series over here. Please note I retain sole ownership of all the works of fiction on this blog so please do not reproduce or alter my work and claim it as your own.      

The first five times that Khushi and Arnav  didn't  meet Five. 'When she comes into your life you won't even realise and she'll become your whole world.' Arnav leaned against the doorframe, looking out at his garden and reflected on Anjali's words. The emptiness inside him, the feeling of loneliness, of being incomplete was always with him but never more so than now. A rough gust of wind swept through his garden retreat. It jolted awake the plants which had fallen into a soothing slumber in the cool Delhi night before swirling around Arnav reminding him of his own humanity. If Di was right, were these lonely nights coming to an end? Would he have a companion, a friend to sit beside him and fill the ache in his heart? Would she soothe his bruised soul with gentle kisses and loving words? But how could he give so much power to someone else? How could he let his happiness, his existence and his world rest in someone else's palm? It...

The first five times that Khushi and Arnav  didn't  meet Four. Khushi put away her prasad, thanking Devi Maiyya again for helping her to find a job so quickly. She rushed down the stairs and towards the street before she stopped, remembering her bare feet. She ran back to the mandir to jam her shoes onto her feet, not wanting to be late and was almost ready to go when she heard a voice call out to her. 'Excuse me! I think you dropped this.' Khushi gasped as she recognised the white envelope in the stranger's hands. Her appointment letter! 'Thank you sir, thank you so much! You don't know what a big favour you've done for me today.' Khushi took the envelope and reverently put it inside her bag, this time inside the zipped pocket cursing the owner of the store she'd bought the bag from as she did. He could have cost her her job today, her entire future. She knew the bag wasn't worth Rs. 200 if it couldn't even keep o...

The first five times that Khushi and Arnav  didn't  meet Three. Now that there was no rush for Buaji's inhaler Khushi drove more carefully. It was a new city and she didn't want her first day to also be her last. Other people obviously didn't have the same thinking and she swerved quickly to avoid a large white car in her path. She stopped her scooter and closed her eyes in prayer thanking Devi Maiyya for saving her life. She wasn't ready to die yet; still had so many things to do, so many things to see. She spared a look backwards for the large white car, probably belonged to some spoilt rich kid with no responsibilities and no life experience. If she didn't have Buaji to think about she would have given him a stern talking to about driving etiquette and the value of a stranger's life. Instead Khushi started her scooter again determined to arrive back at Buaji's house safely. --- Arnav pressed his horn loudly, irritated at the th...

Read the rest of this series over here. Please note I retain sole ownership of all the works of fiction on this blog so please do not reproduce or alter my work and claim it as your own.  

The first five times that Khushi and Arnav  didn't  meet Two. The plain white scarf blew up in front of him obscuring his vision. He recognised the material instantly as plain cotton but as it glided across his face it felt softer than even Kashmiri hand-woven silk. Arnav closed his eyes and let his skin experience the soft touch but the dupatta was gone all too quickly and floated away behind its owner like a devoted lover. He briefly contemplated following the girl and sourcing the supplier of such soft cotton but brushed the thought aside. --- Khushi prayed for her sister, prayed that she would find true happiness with a truly worthy partner.  She turned away hesitantly before turning back and quickly adding a wish for a worthy partner of her own.  The key, she tied onto the end of her dupatta to safeguard it from her own forgetfulness, not wanting to negate her wishes in any way. He had no reason to believe in God but if there was on...

Read the rest of this series over here. Please note I retain sole ownership of all the works of fiction on this blog so please do not reproduce or alter my work and claim it as your own.    

A series of very short snippets/drabbles based on the show. Some are AU, some are canon compliant, some are nonsense. A is for... Automatic B is for... Bikini C is for... Colour D is for... Damn It! E is for... Ego F is for... Fantasy G is for... Goodbye H is for... Hello I is for... Insane J is for... Jaadu Hai Nasha Hai K is for... Kitne Aadmi The? L is for.. Laad Governer M is for... Mama and Mamiji N is for... Nanheji O is for... Over P is for... Prakash Brothers Ltd Q is for... Questions Without Answers R is for... Raizada S is for... Scared T is for... Table U is for... Umbrella V is for... Vivah W is for... Wish Upon A Star X is for... X-Rated   Y is for... Yes Sir! Z is for... Zoo

Read the rest of this series over here. Please note I retain sole ownership of all the works of fiction on this blog so please do not reproduce or alter my work and claim it as your own.      

The first five times that Khushi and Arnav didn't meet One. Khushi pulled to a stop in front of the large mansion. Sheesh Mahal. It was large, unwelcoming  and austere. Not the venue she would have chosen for her own wedding but the bright lights and pounding music assured her this was the place. This was the hotel Jeejaji had said wasn't it? She got off her scooter, still clutching the deed papers to her chest and had just lifted her hands to pray for Devi Maiyya's support when her phone rang. 'Jeejaji? Where are you? Jiji and I have been trying to ring you all day. I need to talk to you.' --- Arnav opened his eyes and sighed, barely registering the unremarkable model on the catwalk dressed in a show-stopping red lengha of his own design for the finale. He had expected to finally be at peace once he bought Sheesh Mahal; once he reclaimed what was rightfully his. But still he felt restless... he felt... incomplete.

'Khushi be quiet!' 'But Arnavji, my chappal! Maybe these men have some glue I can use?' 'Khushi! We're detectives! We're supposed to be undetected! Not run in front of the marks waving our chappals about!' 'But Arnavji, you're not wearing chappals. You're wearing shoes. Hey Devi Maiyya, did you want to wear your chappals today? I should have known! I'm such a bad wife! What will Amma say when she hears?' 'Khushi.' 'What?' 'RUN!' 'But I can't! My chappal!' --- (coming soon)

Y is for... Yes Sir! One moment he had seemed so angry and the next he was unbuttoning his jacket. Khushi walked backwards away from him in fear but she couldn't help noticing how well his jacket fit him, clinging to his narrow waist and emphasising his broad shoulders. He removed the jacket and she could now see a hint of well muscled arms beneath his black shirt. He began to move closer and her eyes were drawn to him once again, her breaths quickened and she closed her eyes, expecting his waistcoat to be next. 'Dictation lena shuru karo.' She looked up in shock, horrified at what she had been thinking about. Only this morning she had had to avert her eyes as she saw Lavanyaji hanging over his chair with her arms around his neck. They were clearly a couple so how could Khushi have even thought that Sir was walking towards her because he... She moved backwards again, frightened by her thoughts and stumbled backwards. Instantly his hand held her...

Z is for... Zoo It was one of those rare Sunday evenings where the entire family was gathered in the Raizada living room. The children were sprawled across the floor watching a movie. Akash and Mamaji were playing cards on one sofa, Nani and Payal were looking through old photo albums while Mami and Anjali gossiped over their magazines Arnav was reading his newspaper while Khushi watched the movie with the children from where she was sat on the sofa next to him. Her legs were tucked up on the sofa next to him with her feet under his thigh for warmth while she ploughed through a plate of pakoras. His momentary idyll was broken with the sound of Akash's eldest son Sanjay's loud scream. 'Aditi! You hit me!' The screams and grunts that followed were indistinguishable as to which child they emerged from as Aditi began to claw at Suraj's hair and he fought back, egged on and helped by their various younger cousins and siblings. Payal, Anjali, Nani...

X is for... X-Rated 'Turn over; I want to play a game.' Khushi blushed violently but still obliged, turning over onto her stomach. She expected the legs that straddled her own and the hands massaging her shoulders but the tongue on her back was a shock and she jerked unconsciously. Arnav pinned her down and traced a long leisurely path with his tongue from the base of her spine to her neck. He then blew into her ear, making her shiver in anticipation. 'I'm going to write something on your back Khushi and you have to guess what it is. Okay?' Khushi nodded and screwed her eyes shut to concentrate, refusing to lose to Arnav in another one of their games. Although she was prepared this time, she still gasped at the first touch of his smooth tongue against her skin. He moved in a straight line upwards but then Khushi lost track of the direction, focusing only on his tongue and the pool of heat low in her stomach until she could bear it no...