OS: Men Plan, God Laughs

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OS: Men Plan, God Laughs


The phone stopped ringing just as Khushi rushed through the front door. 'Typical,' she muttered to herself as she took the key out of the lock. She'd barely closed the door when a phone started ringing again. It was her cell phone this time. She took it out, smiled as she recognised the name and held it between her shoulder and her ear as she sat down on the couch and began to remove her shoes.

'Hello Lavanyaji, how are you?'

'I'm... erm. How are you Khushi? I called your house phone before. You didn't answer.'

Khushi straightened her shoes and took the phone in her hand again. There was something wrong. Lavanya never called her Khushi and she never bothered with pleasantries. Normally she would have made that last sentence into a question, humorously demanding to know Khushi's whereabouts and questioning her own status as Khushi's best friend.

'Where were you? Who were you with? You have a new best friend don't you? I knew it!'

'Yeah, sorry about that. I was just coming in and I missed it.' There was no answer from Lavanyaji so Khushi continued more insistently, 'Lavanyaji are you okay? Is it Sameerji? Is something wrong?' She'd never met Sameer and yet she felt an odd fondness for Lavanya's husband of two years.

'No, no. Sameer is... he's fine. So you're at home now? I didn't want to talk to you while you were out. That's why I didn't ring your cell first.' Her voice was hesitant and Khushi could tell she was nervous.

'Yes I'm at home. Come on Lavanyaji, why did you call? What's wrong?'

'I just wanted to, I mean I needed to talk to you. About ASR.'

'Arnavji? Okay,' was something wrong with him? Khushi took a deep breath in, never fully prepared to hear or talk about Arnav or the past.

'He erm...'

Lavanya's voice caught and Khushi moved forwards so she was sitting almost on the edge of the couch. 'Lavanyaji, please.'

'Okay, okay. I'm sorry. He got shot. Yesterday.'

Khushi lost grip on her phone and it dropped to the floor, the sliding mechanism closing and cutting Lavanya off. 'Shit, shit, shit,' she reproached herself as she scrambled to the floor to pick it up and call Lavanya back.

Lavanya picked it up even before the first ring had finished. 'Hello?'

'Shot?'

'Are you calling me from your cell phone? Do you know how much that costs? Put the phone down I'll ring your house phone.'

'Lavanyaji! Forget my stupid bills! Like how? As in a gun?'

'Of course with a gun! What other kind is there? Idiot.' Khushi leaned back against the bottom of the couch not trusting her knees to support her weight and keep her upright. 'Oh god, I'm sorry Chamkili. I didn't mean that.'  Lavanya's voice sounded so far away and strangely Khushi was glad so many countries and miles separated them. 

'No, it's fine. I just... So if you're calling me I guess this means...?' Even her own voice seemed distant and unfamiliar to her.

'Yeah.'

Khushi didn't want to say it and she was glad Lavanya didn't either. She barely registered the moments of silence that passed before Lavanya spoke again. 'Khushi, I'm sorry but I have to go. Will you be okay?' She didn't give Khushi time to answer as she rushed to apologise again, 'sorry, that was a stupid question. But you know what I mean right? I'll call you later?'

Khushi pressed 'End Call' not bothering to answer Lavanya and stared at the screen where Payal's daughters Pooja and Aarti were involved in an arm wrestle. 10.42; she'd only been home for 12 minutes. She let the phone fall from her hand and it landed with a dull thud on the floor next to her.

Khushi usually cried easily; at movies, books and even songs but they were always silent tears. These ones felt the inexplicable need to accompany themselves with sound.

It was another 10 minutes before Khushi wiped her eyes and got to her feet, picking up her shoes and bag as she did and haphazardly threw them into the hall closet before walking slowly up the stairs to her room.

Yesterday. He'd died yesterday. Yesterday was such a vague word. 9 letters was just too small to encompass a whole 24 hours worth of activities. They probably had a better word for it in Latin or something, Arnav would have known. Yesterday morning? Afternoon? Evening? 4a.m? 4 p.m? She hadn't thought to ask. As if knowing would make any difference.

She walked in and locked the door behind her. There wasn't anybody home to be locking the door from but she still did it.