Chapter 5

Khushi sat under the shade of the Peepal tree, resting on her folded knees after a tiring day in the sun. She had brought her students to the local government school for an art project, that involved painting murals on the walls of the school building. These murals were inspired by drawings made by the school children in an art activity that she had conducted along with her students.

Looking for ideas to involve her students in some extra-curricular activity, she had thought of the art project that had been slowly gaining prevalence in many parts of the country in the past few years. Having volunteered in such projects for an ex-colleague in Bangalore had helped her understand the nuances of executing such a project. As a child, she had loved to draw, and over the years she had ventured into painting with water colors, but painting murals was something she had to learn as it was quite different from painting on canvas.

The project whose main objective was about connecting nature with art, depicted murals of landscapes, and included aspects of environmental awareness like cleanliness and water conservation. When she had proposed the project to Arnav he had liked it, and together, they had convinced the principal of Ankita's government school.

She felt a little restless and how much ever she tried, she couldn't shake off thoughts about Arnav. She had been doing fine until he came along one day barging into her life, asking for coffee or yelling at her for taking the short cut after dark. He had clearly instructed her that she was not to leave late from college even to take the longer route. He had also designated Somesh as her personal alarm who ensured, that she left at the right time in case he couldn’t be back from the city to pick her up. She remembered him each time the UPS kicked in after a power cut. She also remembered him when she saw his bike which now appeared in her field of vision. She closed her eyes wondering if her imagination could conjure things.

"Sleeping on the job, Ms. Khushi?" Arnav's husky voice brought her out of her reverie.

Khushi looked up, squinting her eyes due to the sunlight. She wasn’t imagining it, he really was here. Today he was wearing a light blue cotton shirt folded at the elbow and beige colored pants.

"Hello?" he said, "I am talking to you."

Khushi sat up before he realized what she was day dreaming about. "What are you doing here?" she asked him.

"I brought some supplies for your little project here," Arnav said pointing her attention to a plastic bag in his hand. "Somesh called me told me you had asked for these – I bought them in the city. Why didn’t you call me?"

"Thank you – I didn’t want to disturb you at work," she smiled at him, "These are paints I was waiting for – we had run out of these colors."

As he sat down next to her Khushi thought he looked tired. She uncapped her water bottle and offered it to him. "How was your day at the construction site?" she asked him.

"It was the usual," he told her as he drank water from the bottle finishing it in a few gulps, "we didn’t receive the materials we were expecting from Bangalore. Work has stalled a bit. I may have to travel to Bangalore to talk to the vendors."

"Anyway, enough about my boring work." He looked at the students busy working on the artwork. "You students seem to be enjoying their day out of college."

"Thank you for arranging lunch for us," she said. They had all received lunch packets from a nearby restaurant. "And of course, for all the supplies as well."

"You don’t have to thank me – it's thanks to Ma's NGO," he quipped, "I should be thanking you for this art project initiative. My aunt started this NGO for helping destitute women and now it can venture into improvement of government schools."

"I think it will nice if the school could have a library," Khushi said, "Ankita was telling me that they don't have one."

"Done!" Arnav replied in an instant, "I will look in to what needs to be done to set up one."

"That's wonderful!" Khushi exclaimed, "I will be glad to help."

Her enthusiasm made him smile. "Why don’t you show me your artwork?"

They stood in front of the mural she was working on. "Did you do draw this?" he asked her, "it's amazing how you do this on a wall while maintaining the symmetry."

It was a huge sprawling tree with long branches, leaves and flowers. The tree and branches were painted brown, the leaves and flowers were still unpainted.

"It's not very difficult actually." Khushi said, "Once you have learned the technique." She added quickly.

"You carry on --" Arnav said, "I will go to the principal and talk to her about the library."

Arnav went around to the other walls and browsed through all the drawings. There was a landscape on another long wall, drawings of flowers, birds on some smaller walls. Looking at the work that was complete, it was clear that the students had put in a lot of hard work. Then he saw the boy who had come in to Khushi's office the other day, walking toward Khushi. The boy looked up at her as she stood on a ladder to paint the flowers with red color. He then picked up the paint brush, dragged another ladder next to her, climbed up and began to paint.

Half an hour later, Arnav walked up to where Khushi was still painting the flowers along with the boy. He seemed to be talking more than painting.

"Hey?" Arnav called out to the boy, "your friends over there are waiting for the ladder. Why don't you go and help them?"

"My name is Srijit," the boy replied curtly, "I am helping ma'am."

Arnav's eyebrows raised at the boy's defiance. "Well Mr. Srijit, if you don't take this ladder back to your friends you will be holding up the work. I will help your "ma'am" finish here."

Before the boy could come back with a retort Khushi intervened, "He is right Srijit," she said looking over at the group of girls, "looks like they have only a stool to stand on. Take the ladder and help the girls. We have very little time before the sun goes down."

As the boy left them, his face rueful, Arnav shook his head. "That boy needs a good spanking."

"You shouldn’t have spoken to him like that," Khushi admonished him, "he is a very sensitive boy. He has some --issues."

"That's just bull@#$%" he told her, "I know why he was acting like that. Brat!"

"Just forget it!" Khushi said and was about to descend from the ladder.

"What do you need?" he asked her.

"I need more red paint and some water to dilute it."

"Stay right there," he told her.

He picked up a new box of red paint, climbed a few steps of the ladder and handed it to her.

"Why don't you come back another day?" he asked her. "You look very tired."

"I can't drag all these kids again," she said, "I will finish it today. Look -- why don’t you go home and rest? You must be tired after a long day at the site."

"Just finish this damn thing so we can go home together." He told her firmly.

As though she could work with him standing below there looking at her.

"Who was the -- lady you were talking to in the city last week?" She asked him in a rush. She had wanted to know who the beautiful woman was from the moment she had seen her a week ago. Although it was not surprising to see good looking women in the South Canara belt, this woman was clearly above the rest. Even from the distance she could tell that the woman looked sophisticated in her mellow orange and pink silk kurta –obviously, a designer apparel.

When she didn’t hear from him, she wondered if he had heard her.

Suddenly he was right behind her having climbed the ladder further up. When she looked at him he said, "It's a little difficult to talk, looking up – " he paused, "you asked me who I was talking to –her name is Rashmi Shanbogue."

"I see." She hoped he would be more forthcoming but she realized that it was not to be.

"Was it work related?" she tried to sound casual as she tried to move her hair out of the way using her arm.

Arnav held her arm and lowered it down. "Well -- she is an old friend," He took off her clip and fastened it on his shirt. She looked down to see his chest hair peeking out from his shirt. There was no way she was going to be able to concentrate on her work now. He gathered her hair in his hands. "Rashmi is trying to set up a bakery business," his fingers brushed the temples, sliding behind her ear, to the nape of her neck sending small electric currents down to the pit of her stomach. "She has a place in mind but she is facing some litigation issues," he secured the hair with her clip. "She wanted my help."

She had a lot more questions in her mind, but she would have to hold them off for later, as she was finding it difficult to breathe. She closed her eyes for a few seconds.

"Are you afraid of heights Khushi?" he asked he softly, " you look like you will fall any moment."

She mixed the paint vigorously, "Not at all," she denied, "I am absolutely fine." Her hands shook a little as she tried to draw the outline of the flower. The paint brush fell from her hand on to the ground below.

"If looks could kill I'd be dead by now," Arnav murmured looking at the students in the distance, "your boy Srijit is shooting daggers with his eyes. What's wrong with that boy?"

Khushi dug out another paint brush from her pocket, thankful of her presence of mind for having extra bushes handy. "Leave the poor boy alone," she bit out, "he has had a heartbreak," she shook her head, "I shouldn't have told you that." She stared back at him.

Arnav looked at her, amusement written clearly on his face. "Did he tell you that?"

"Yeah -- what's so funny?" she said, "it happens at this age."

"Well it doesn't look like the boy just had a heartbreak," Arnav mocked, "he seemed pretty fine to me – I saw him laughing with the girls over there and then trying to make you laugh here."

Khushi's hand stilled. "Looks like you know a lot about heartbreaks," she said turning back to look at him, "how old were you when you had your first one?" She held her breath waiting for an answer.

As Arnav stared back at her a muscle ticked in his jaw. He leaned in closer and Khushi's heart began to hammer crazily in her chest. As she leaned back and looked at him wide-eyed, he raised his hand and wiped her cheek with water. The water felt cold on her fevered face.

"You have more paint on your face," he smirked, "I think you are done for today – let's go." He climbed down the ladder.

As her heart calmed down Khushi was thankful for the dwindling light.

Later that night, Khushi clad in a sleeveless top and capri pajamas, sat on the small two-seater outdoor sofa with her legs up on the coffee table. The dimly lit terrace with the beautiful garden had become her panacea. She thought about how Arnav had avoided her question earlier. In the short time, she knew him she had realized that Arnav was a complicated man. She wondered if Payal found it difficult to understand him.

Growing up, she had always found her older sister to be a quiet girl who escaped into the world of books most of time, preferred not to argue with her parents and almost always did what was right. Even her parents had felt that Payal was delicate and wouldn’t be able to handle herself in a crisis – which was quiet contrary to what they thought of her. It was probably because she has been feisty even as a child, giving everyone the impression that she could take care of herself.

There was one thing that Ramya had told her about Payal that matched with what Deepana had also told her, although her words had subtle undertones rather than the more direct way Ramya had said it.

"Payal was so beautiful but I feel she was also quite naïve – she trusted people at face value. I used to get the feeling that she lived in a dream world sometimes – like she was trying to escape reality. She should have been careful who she was associating with.

"For example, when she first came she used to hang out with that -- Vibha who was Payal's family friend's daughter. You probably know her too. She hung out with a group that was into drinking, drugs and sex. Vibha did atrocious things right under her parents' noses. I knew that because I was from this city. I had warned Payal to keep away from that girl the first time I saw her going out with that gang."

Thinking back about what Ramya had said, Khushi realized how difficult it was for students when they stayed away from families. The sense of independence though exhilarating at first could soon turn into an unpleasant experience if one was not careful about it. It was so easy to get carried away with newfound freedom.

Was that why Payal had her heartbroken by Arnav?

She stood up and walked to the parapet well. Where was this man? Arnav had dropped her at home and left after dinner. He was probably at his usual hangout spot at the bar. Her phone rang. It was her mother. "Hello ma. How are you?"

She felt guilty that she hadn’t told her mother that she had moved to Mangalore. If she knew she wouldn’t allow her to stay. Anyway, her mom didn’t ask her too many questions like other mothers did. But today she decided to ask her something.

"Ma, did Payal tell you anything about a friend called Arnav?"

"Payal didn’t tell me anything – maybe she told your dad," her mother replied, "she was closer to him than me."

The question triggered bad memories and the topic had shifted to a rant about her wasted life. Khushi listened silently as she always did, supporting her mother.

She saw Arnav walking toward the house, hands in his pockets.

"Ma, I have to go now. I will call you again." She cut the phone and hurried downstairs.

As she opened the door and let him in, he said, "I was just about to call you – I am sorry for disturbing you this late but I forgot the keys again," he took the stairs silently and began to walk up to his room.

"Did you walk all the way from the bar?" she asked him, stopping him in the first floor living room, "are you crazy?"

"Don't be silly," he drawled, "a friend gave me a ride until the main road. I walked from there.

"Why do you have to drink so much?" she asked him.

"It is not as bad as you are imagining --" he told her, "I am used to this –"

"That's the problem!" she exclaimed, "you are not supposed to be used to it."

Arnav came up to her and grabbed her wrist and dragged her out to the terrace.

"Keep your voice down – ma will hear it." He said raking a hand through his hair. "Why are you being so dramatic?"

"I am not being dramatic!" she retorted angrily, "it is not healthy to drink like this – is this because of a -- woman?"

"What woman?" His face twisted in confusion.

"Earlier today I asked you if you had a heartbreak – but you didn’t answer. I have to assume that it is because of a woman."

There was flash of pain reflected in his eyes but he said, "I have never had a heartbreak!" he gritted through his teeth, "Are you happy now?"

It was probably not a good idea to provoke him but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. "That must only mean you broke her heart." She waited with bated breath.

"Yes –" he answered with stunning clarity, "I have broken countless hearts," he walked to the sofa and sat on it, "after all I am my father's son. He broke my mother's heart."

Khushi was taken aback. This wasn’t really the answer she was expecting. Was he alluding to the fact that his father had re-married after his mother had died? For a young child who had loved his mother deeply, it might have seemed like a betrayal.

"I know it is difficult -- but you have to try and understand your father." She knew how hard it was for children when parents behaved in a manner that was incomprehensible to their little minds. She went up to him, sat beside him. "I don’t think it was easy for him either."

"I don't think you understand –"

"I do – even I thought that my father had broken my mother's heart," she whispered, "but after they divorced he didn’t even survive beyond a year."

Arnav turned toward her, his face rife with concern. "I am sorry Khushi!"

"He died a year ago –alone," she said her eyes brimming with tears, "I wish I had visited him but I was too busy being angry with him." She had never told anyone about this. "I didn’t want to make my mom angry." Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Sshhh, don’t cry," Arnav pulled her to himself and took her in his arms. "it's alright," he rocked her, "it's not your fault."

"Now my mother is bitter all the time still blaming him for all her life's troubles." She sobbed, "Dad was not perfect but he did the best for us financially and never deliberately caused us any harm –

"But if I try to explain that, she thinks I don’t love her anymore. Then I feel guilty because she sacrificed so much –"

"Khushi listen to me," he held her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes, "Your parents' life wasn’t what they expected it to be. It's sad." He wiped her tears with his fingers. "But It is not your burden to carry. It is a parent's job to protect a child and not the other way around.

"Thoughts like these can bog you down and stop you from doing things that you really want to do in life. Just remember that."

His words, and the warmth of his embrace felt like a soothing balm on her soul, providing her with a long-awaited comfort. When Khushi opened her eyes a little later, she noticed her face nestled into Arnav's neck, her hand clutching at the opening of his shirt and her legs folded at the knees, on his thigh. Arnav had slept as he was seated on the sofa last night, with his legs up on the coffee table, his arm around her shoulder as his head rested on her head. If this was a dream she didn’t want to wake up from it.

As sunlight hit her eyes, Khushi woke up in her own bed. Arnav must have brought here, she thought stretching out the kinks in her body. She suddenly remembered the dream she had just had. In the dream, she was bawling, throwing a tantrum demanding the sketch pet set that Payal had received as a birthday gift. Then she had it snatched from her hands and run. Why was she having this dream after all these years?