OS: Love's Labour Lost

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OS: Love's Labour Lost

Khushi opened her wardrobe and rummaged through it trying to find something she could wear. The blue lengha she'd been planning on wearing for the wedding would completely clash with her bangles and she definitely wanted to wear them tomorrow. She touched them again, a smile playing on her lips as she remembered how she'd made him admit he had bought them earlier that night.

She continued to sort through and disregard different outfits in the wardrobe. Her hands lingered over the green saree she'd worn on the sangeet and she shivered as she remembered the feel of his hands on her back, on her waist and especially on her stomach. A flash of red caught her eye and Khushi reached into the wardrobe to pull it out. It fell to onto the floor along with some of her other clothes and Khushi bent down to pick them.

Her hands froze as she realised what it was. She picked it up warily as if it would burn her, memories flashing through her mind in dazzling clarity.


Mujhe iss sab se koi farq nahin padtha. It doesn't mean a thing... Tumhe toh laga hoga ki tumhari zindagi ban gayi. Mere liye uss baat ki ya tumhari, koi ehmiyat nahi.

'It doesn't mean a thing...' she whispered to herself as the memories of Diwali and of Payal's mehndi began to merge in her head, twisting and turning until she wasn't sure which day was which.

'Sanka Devi, look here's my old wedding dress. You can wear this if you're so insistent on wearing red tomorrow!'

Khushi blinked back tears as she looked up at her Buaji who had just entered the room. Buaji said something else but Khushi didn't hear it as her eyes fell on the door behind Buaji and she could almost taste the bitter tears she had shed that night. 'Sorry? What Buaji?'

'Red? You did say you wanted to wear red didn't you?'

Khushi looked from the lengha in Buaji's hand to the saree in her own and shook her head violently. 'No Buaji, no, I'll just wear the one I picked already.'

'Hai re Nand Kishore, what am I going to do with you? Always changing your mind about...' Buaji's voice trailed off as left the room. Khushi was still staring down at her hands, encased in red and gold bangles holding the offending saree in her hand. She quickly stuffed the saree back into the back of the wardrobe where it had resided for months before going over to the dresser. She looked at the bangles one more time before she began to pull them off roughly, not caring that she was hurting her injured hand even more, desperate to get them off and back into their box.

---

Arnav looked up towards the staircase immediately as soon as he heard the soft murmurs around the hall that he bride was coming. He had no interest in the bride at all, but rather in a certain brown-eyed bridesmaid who had yet to come down. She had only appeared once, to extort some money out of his brother, flirting with both NK and Akash's friends but ignoring him completely.

He watched almost mesmerised as she walked down, her blue and silver lengha sparkling under the lights, giving her an angelic aura as if she was bathed in white light. She walked onto the stage and stood behind Payal and Arnav moved forward past Anjali to stand behind Akash similarly. He bent his head slightly, making sure to appear subtle, 'you know, this colour doesn't look that bad on you either.'

She jerked her head up to look at him before she moved quickly, whispering something in her sister's ear before she hurried off the stage. Arnav watched her leave curiously, instead of the embarrassment or even pride he'd been expecting there was a definite air of annoyance on her face.

He found her again moments later, standing in a darkened corner shoving jalebi after jalebi into her mouth watching the festivities. He approached from the side, in case she should see him and run away again and leaned against the pillar before he spoke. 'Those are for the guests you know.'

Once again her head jerked up and panicked eyes met his before she turned to flee again but Arnav was too fast this time. He held her arm and pulled her back towards him, closer than they'd been standing before. 'Khushi? What's wrong?'

Khushi pulled her arm away and took a step backwards. 'What do you want from me Arnavji?!'

Arnav was taken aback by her sharp tone, 'Khushi, what are you..'

'I don't know what you want from me, but I don't want anything from you!' She spoke over him, trying to control her rapidly increasing voice. She took a deep breath as she opened her handbag and took out the box, 'just leave me alone!'

Arnav looked down at the box she'd thrust into his hands bewildered before he looked back up at her.

'What the..? I thought you liked them?'

'Mujhe iss sab se koi farq nahin padhta! Mere liye yeh chudiyan ya aapki koi ehmiyat nahi hai! Samjhe aap?' She stormed away from him, determined now that she wouldn't let him ruin her sister's wedding for her. She wouldn't skulk around in dark corners hovering on the edge of the festivities just because he was here.

Her words hit him like a punch in the gut as Arnav remembered his own spiteful words. The box in his hands suddenly seemed so heavy, as if it was made of lead and not cheap cardboard housing pieces of coloured glass. His throat was dry and he swallowed a few times trying to moisten his tongue before he shoved the box into the inside pocket of his jacket, not caring that the outline was clearly visible and followed after her. Determined to talk to her, determined to make up for what he'd said, prove to her that he hadn't meant his words and she didn't mean hers.

He stopped beside her and stayed where he was, not moving an inch. Khushi was aware of him at all times but concentrated on the ceremony. She had promised her sister her full undivided attention during the wedding and that was what she was going to get.

As the guests ate, she made sure never to leave her mother's side, delegating all tasks asked of her to one of her friends. It was almost as if she was eight years old again, clutching onto Garima's arm for protection as hordes of people dressed in white tried to surround her and kiss her and hug her for reasons she couldn't yet fathom.



Except this time there was only one man and he was dressed in black but Khushi still didn't know his reasons for anything he did. The unanswered 'why' from last night hung over her head proving to her that her questions would never be answered and Khushi realised it was probably better if they never were.

There were red welts on his palm where his nails had dug in from all of the fist clenching he'd done over the course of the evening. Every effort to talk to her, to make his sister, his Grandma, NK, anyone call her aside, away from her mother and Aunt had been in vain.

Khushi shivered although she wasn't at all cold as he approached them, she kept her gaze fixed somewhere above his knee until he spoke.

'Aunty, I need to speak to Khushi about something.'

She saw her mother begin to nod but even before she could speak Khushi interrupted. 'Amma! I have to go and get something for Jiji, I'll just be back.'

He tried to follow but her quick nimble footsteps and the crowd halted his progress. When she didn't appear for another 5 minutes he went up to the poolside, then his bedroom and then even all of the other bedrooms in the house. She wasn't in any of them and the desire to shout and scream at the entire wedding party to shut up and leave him alone with her started to feel less like a far-fetched delusion and something he should actually do.

He made his way angrily back down the stairs and instantly felt his anger melt away. It was time for the bidaai and she was hugging her sister tight, tears streaming down her face, unrestrained and taking a good portion of her make up along with them. She looked so beautiful and so fragile, he wanted to walk over and gather her up in his own arms and hold her until the tears stopped.

Khushi let go of Payal reluctantly making way for her mother and turned to hug her Aunt instead. She finally let all of her pain out and cried for the loss of her sister, cried for the loss of her healthy Babuji but mostly cried for herself. Tears she had had to control on Diwali, tears she had had to control when she found out about Shyam and all of those other tears she had bottled inside and masked with smiles and jokes.

The drive home passed in a blur, Khushi again stayed next to her mother in the back of the car, not even registering that Arnav was driving as she continued to cry on her mother's shoulder.

Arnav watched as she ran into the house, for once not even staying to help her father into the house.

'Poor girl. She'll miss her Jiji so much. How will she even sleep tonight?'

Arnav smiled weakly at Buaji, his heart contracted at the sight of her retreating form, the thought that he couldn't even comfort or reassure her eating away at him.

---

Khushi cried deep into the night, her pillow soaked through. Buaji had offered to sleep in her room but Khushi had refused. She would have to get used to living without Jiji, especially since she was determined to visit the Raizada house as little as possible. She had prayed last night for strength and she knew her Devi Maiyya wouldn't disappoint her. But God didn't help those who didn't help themselves so Khushi had to do her part. She would stay away from him, she wouldn't give him the chance again to play with her emotions and then shatter her into pieces at whim. The phone under her pillow vibrated again, bringing a fresh onslaught of tears and Khushi buried herself deeper under her blanket.

---

Arnav's jaw was clenched as the phone rang and rang again with no answer. He had tried over 50 times in the past three hours and there had been no response. She didn't even have a voicemail service he could leave a message with and what he had to say could never be conveyed in a text message.

He tried one last time before he threw the phone at the wall, not even bothering to watch as it fell to the floor. He picked up the box on his bed and opened the safe in his wardrobe, shoving the box into it, alongside another more ornate box sheltering golden rather than glass bangles.