Nayika Writes

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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...

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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

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.

Q is for... Questions without Answers  'Do you think we did everything all wrong Khushi?' Payal stroked Khushi's back, not expecting a response. 'Maybe we shouldn't have questioned Babuji. Should we have let him mortgage the shop? Should I have married Abhishekji regardless? What do you think Khushi?' Her eyes rested on her parents, her father resting an awkward hand on his wife's head. 'Would Babuji be well do you think? Would he be able to walk and talk and smile and laugh? Would Amma be smiling instead of crying?' Khushi lifted her head slightly and looked at Payal with tearful eyes, 'Jiji, will he come?' *** Set during Khushi and Arnav's second (actual) wedding when he was delayed angsting in the street about his mom.

OS: Woh Aayenge Weary and exhausted, Arnav had no energy to argue with Payal and so he simply pushed her aside as gently as he could manage and made his way towards Khushi's room. His heart contracted when he saw her lying on the bed, looking as awful as he felt. He hadn't been home in the two days since their ill-fated wedding day. Garima and Buaji were sitting on either side of her stroking her fevered brow while she muttered to herself. 'Woh aayenge. Woh aayenge.' He rushed forward hurtling onto the bed and gathered her up in his arms, ignoring Garima and Buaji's protests and stroked her hair. 'I'm here Khushi. Look, I came. I'm sorry Khushi. Khushi look at me.' He tilted her chin up and slowly her red and puffy eyes opened. He had been prepared for anger and shock but not the fear that was so clearly evident in her eyes. She struggled in his arms, no longer looking up at him and Arnav reluctantly loosened his grip. She...

C is for... Colour Arnav smiled as he disentangled his black silk shirt from where it had caught onto an embellishment on Khushi's turquoise and pink anarkali . Di had once accused him of having a wardrobe full of black but nothing could be further from the truth now. The large wardrobe was now bursting with colour: reds, greens, yellows, purple and blues sparkled and shimmered in the light shoving and pushing for space against an ever diminishing army of black, navy blue and grey. Khushi had filled his previously grey existence with a riot of colours, making every day more beautiful than the last.

B is for... Bikini 'Arnavji, what is this ?' Khushi held up the offending item between her thumb and forefinger. 'It's a bikini Khushi,' Arnav replied without looking up from his book. 'For the beach.' 'You want me to wear this? In public? Hai Devi Maiyya, I might as well go out in my underwear!' Arnav rolled his eyes; immune to Khushi's dramatics after almost a year of marriage. 'You want me to wear this... thing in front of other people, other men? No, I refuse!' Khushi threw the bikini at Arnav and began to storm out but was caught before she reached the door and spun back into his arms. 'Whoa! Who said anything about other men? Nobody is going to be looking at my wife in her underwear... I mean in a bikini! I booked a private beach, Khushi. Just you... and me.' 'Oh... I see. Well that's... I guess that's... okay then.'

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A is for... Automatic 'It's red!' 'Very observant.' 'Can we go for a drive?' 'I was hoping you'd say that.' The engine roared as Arnav accelerated out of the gates and onto the long road that connected their house to the rest of Delhi. Khushi examined the smooth leather interiors carefully for faults in case her usually shrewd husband had been extorted by a cunning salesman. 'Notice anything?' Khushi felt his hand land on her knee, heavy and warm through the fabric and she looked up at him in surprise. 'It's automatic!' 'Very observant,' Arnav replied huskily as he began to caress her thigh.

Read all previous parts of this FF over here. 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 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.  

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.

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.  

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.