Chapter 9

KHUSHI sat in Sheetal ice cream parlour, savouring the delicious taste of the gud bud ice cream. Though the name had sounded funny, the ice cream itself tasted heavenly with scoops of butterscotch, vanilla and strawberry flavours, layered with nuts, dry fruits, bits of soft candies of tutty fruity, topped with honey and a sugary rose petal preserve locally known as gulkhand, served in a tall glass. The others had ordered single scoop of their favourite flavor making Khushi feel she was a glutton but she didn’t care. This ice cream was to die for.

      The parlour with its walls painted green, was a small space with just about six modest looking tables, but the glass wall on side saved it from being claustrophobic. The parlour owner had almost closed the store but had made an exception and obliged for their sake.

"Why didn’t you bring Sanvi?" Khushi asked Rashmi seated next to her.

"She was very tired with all the activities since morning," she said, "I sent her home with mom. Moreover, I don’t let her eat ice cream in this weather. She falls sick."

Arnav seemed to be engrossed in talking to Manav about some business-related topic.

"This saree looks great on you Khushi," Rashmi complimented her.

Khushi turned to look at her. "Thanks. It was a gift."

"Wow, that person must really love you." Rashmi quipped.

Khushi almost choked on her ice cream. "Why?" she managed to ask.

"This saree costs anywhere between Rs. 15,000 to Rs. 20,000 these days."

"What?" Khushi looked at Arnav in horror. Some of the silk sarees she had worn earlier were old ones that belonged to her mother and strangely, her mother hadn't owned a single Mysore Silk saree. She had no inkling about the price of those sarees and she had been too preoccupied to ask the salesman.

"I love the design on the blouse," Rashmi observed, "I am going to get one like that. Where did you get it?"

"I think it was at Jayalakshmi Silks."

"Why did you let your hair down?"

"My hair was coming undone," Khushi said looking at Arnav recalling what had happened after they started to walk from the banyan tree.

Arnav had stopped suddenly, turned her around, and unraveled her braid, his fingers brushing her smooth back like feathers of a butterfly.

"What are you doing?" Khushi demanded in protest.

"Shhh –" he whispered softly, "Your hook snapped."

She suddenly remembered the safety pin in her pleats. "I think I have a safety pin." But after trying to unpin it she began to struggle. "Ah it is stuck."

"Let me try," he came around and stood in front of her.

"I don't think you will be able to do it." Khushi said, "I – I will try again."

"Look Manav will be here soon, don't fuss."

The back of his fingers sent small jolts of electricity as they touched the already sensitive skin of her stomach.

"Stop fidgeting." He handed her his phone, "use the torch – I can't see clearly."

To her consternation, he kneeled. His fingers continued to create havoc on her insides.

"I got the pin out." He stood up and came around to her back.

He gently moved her hair out of the way and began to attach the pin to her blouse, his fingers once again making her go warm all over.

"Khushi, I was asking you why you left so suddenly?" Rashmi's question brought them back to the present. Is that what she had asked earlier? Why did she think it was about her hair? She was getting so disoriented.

"I –" she scrambled her brain for an answer.

"She got an urgent call from her mother," Arnav said, "since the network isn't that great near your uncle's house she began to walk further."

"I am sorry I left without telling you," Khushi apologized to Rashmi, "I didn't want to disturb you during dinner so I informed your aunt."

"I know – she came and told us," Rashmi said, "that's when Arnav decided to follow you. It's not safe to walk alone at night," She touched her hand with concern, "Be careful in the future."

A little later, as Manav parked in front of Rashmi's house, Arnav walked Rashmi to the gate and they stood there talking seriously about some issue.

"Looks like they are talking about the case," Manav turned around to look at Khushi in the backseat, "they were talking about it even during the ceremony."

"I guess so." Khushi said tersely.

"Is it bothering you that he spends so much time with her?" Manav asked suddenly.

Khushi decided it was the time to counter him with a question. "Do you feel bad Rashmi is spending so much time with Arnav?"

"Why the hell would I feel bad?" He sounded surprised.

"I don't know," Khushi said tentatively, "you have to tell me."

Realization dawned on him. "Oh, I get it. You think I am interested in Rashmi."

"You said you used to have a crush on her." She pointed out.

"Yes, I did," Manav said, " And I got over it soon."

 "Oh, so you sacrificed – for Arnav!" Khushi teased him.

"It's not that – " He paused, "I realized she was not the right girl for me --" he said, "Rashmi was a pampered girl from an affluent family. She had very high standards. After my stint with drugs, I knew I wasn't ready to take care of anyone -- let alone someone like her.

"I am sorry," Khushi apologized quickly, "I shouldn't have presumed."

"Don't be formal Khushi," he said, "I don’t know why but I feel comfortable talking to you. So, I will be direct and say I think you will be good for Arnav. If I didn’t think that I wouldn't have told you all that I did the other day. I want to look out for him -- for a change."

"It's not that simple Manav." Khushi said tentatively.

"It never is, is it?" Manav was silent for some time. "But I feel it in my gut that things will sort themselves out -- like it did for me." He said with a smug smile.

Khushi didn't get a chance to ask him what he meant as Arnav came back.

Khushi walked through the short cut on the way back from college under gray skies of twilight. She quickened her pace wondering why she come this way, when she clearly remembered that she had stopped taking this route since the time Arnav had warned her.

Khushi – a voice called out to her from behind her. She stopped because the voice sounded familiar. It was a girl's voice. Was it Payal? How could that be? She thought, as a shiver went down her spine. She wanted to walk, but she was unable to as her legs felt like lead.

Khushi – the voice seemed closer now. Sweat began to pour down the neck and she felt her heart would explode from all that pounding.

Khushi woke from bed sweating, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. After drinking a glass of water from her bottle, Khushi stood up and walked toward her window to look at the darkness beyond. Why was she getting dreams about Payal so often? As she felt a shiver go through her body despite the still air, she closed her window and got into her bed.

The next day, Khushi sat in her counseling room thinking about the email she had received. It was from Prahlad Shenoy the journalist who had written that article about Payal. With the help of her contact at her newspaper, she had written to the editor of the local newspaper in Udupi that had printed the article about Payal, asking for information about the journalist and she had obliged. As she read the email she was taken aback to find out that the journalist had apologized to her.

 He had told her that he was a young journalist at the time, and had wanted to write an article about the general problems that college students faced as he was doing a research on it. His editor hadn't allowed him to publish that article until the incident involving Payal's death. He told her that he had no intention of mentioning Payal's name, but was forced to do so by his editor who thought that the article would create more sensation that way.

After that Prahlad had quit the newspaper and moved to Mumbai. But he had found out a few years ago that the newspaper had published a public apology regarding the article. A public apology was a vindication. Even if it was small, it felt like a victory.

But the point that had surprised her the most was the mention of his school friend who had given him vital information on the incident. It was Rakesh. Ramya had also mentioned that Rakesh had been close to Payal. She had tried calling him during lunch break but he hadn’t picked up her call.

"May I come ma'am?" Srijit stood in the doorway staring at her.

"Come in Srijit!" He had come in to college after having taken off for a week since the incident at the beach.

"How are you feeling now?" Khushi asked him, her concern showing clearly in her eyes.

"I am not alright ma'am." He replied in a low voice as she sat on the chair.

"Tell me," Khushi said, "I can help you."

"I like this girl –" he said tentatively.

"I see," Khushi said carefully, "you had a heartbreak recently. Don't you think you should take it easy?"

"Ma'am my previous relationship was just an infatuation," he said earnestly, "now I know that this is real. I really like her a lot."

"Alright," she acceded. She didn't want to sound preachy. She would have to listen to him first. "Does this girl also like you?"

"I think she does," he said looking straight into her eyes, "but she doesn't like to show it."

Khushi was unnerved by the way he was staring at her. "You cannot assume things Srijit. At your age, it is easy to form an illusion --"

"It is not an illusion!" He stood up. "What has my age got to do with anything?"

A fear went up her spine. "Sit down Srijit," she tried to calm him. She remembered that Somesh was planning to leave early to go to his children's school for a PTA meeting. Since this was after working hours she wondered if there was anyone else in this building. "Take it easy."

He walked around the table and stood in front of her. "You like me, don't you?" his hand reached out toward her cheek.

Khushi stood up avoiding his touch. "Srijit!" she exclaimed, "What are you doing?"

"Is it because I am younger than you?" he demanded, "seven -- eight years -- It doesn't matter. You look so beautiful now -- I know you will look even more beautiful as you age." He took a step toward her.

"I am your teacher!" She reminded him as she stepped back. "You shouldn't talk like this."

 "Is it because of that guy with the fancy bike?" He asked scathingly, "Is it because he looks manlier than me, or is it because he is rich? I am very rich too you know. My father owns so much land here." He caught her shoulders and tried to pull her toward him.

"Stop it!" Khushi pushed him away from her.

"I love you!" he cried his face twisted with anguish.

"Why are you doing this Srijit?" Khushi cried out in frustration, "I was trying to help you!"

"Why?" he seemed surprised at her, "because -- love is blind."

"You will surely be -- once I am done with you – you little b@#$%^" Arnav had caught hold of Srijit, pulled him away from Khushi and hurled him across the room.

As Srijit scrambled and ran out of the room, Arnav chased him, caught him but before he could punch him, Khushi held his arm. "No Arnav!"

"Sorry!" He screamed, "Please don't hit me." He begged again and again.

As he saw tears streaming down Khushi's cheeks, Arnav loosened his grip on Srijit, and the young boy bolted from the scene.

"You were right about Srijit," she sobbed.

Arnav took Khushi in his arms. "Shhh, you are safe now. I think we should go to the police and file a complaint."

"No I don't want to," he shook her head, "they will simply harass him. As you mentioned earlier -- I think he needs psychiatrist counselling. He is showing signs of obsessive behaviour. We should talk to his parents tomorrow."

Later that night Khushi and Arnav sat in front of a police inspector at the local police station. They had been called in for questioning for misbehavior and assault based on a complaint by Srijit's father. He had claimed that Khushi had been trying to come on to Srijit, and when her boyfriend had arrived, she had turned the tables on him, accusing him of misconduct, leading to the assault by Arnav.

"That is not true Sir!" Khushi pleaded, "the boy is lying. He is the one who attacked me!"

"If that's the case," he said, "why didn't you file a complaint with us?"

Khushi tried to explain the reason but the Inspector wasn't convinced. "How do I know you are telling the truth, madam?" he demanded rudely. "Am I supposed to believe you just because you are a teacher?"

"Khushi don't talk further," Arnav told her firmly, and then turned toward the Inspector. "There is no need to be rude with the lady," he said, "Let's wait till my lawyer gets here. I know you have called us for questioning without proof of assault just because Mr. Shetty is an affluent person in this area."

"How dare you talk to me like that?" the Inspector demanded indignantly, "you know I can have you arrested."

"Do you have a warrant?" Arnav demanded. "I know my rights."

"Looks like you have had a brush with the police before." The inspector said with contempt.

Just then Manav walked in with the lawyer.

"Manav, take Khushi home," Arnav said, "I will get back later."

"She can't just leave!" the Inspector exclaimed.

"You have her statement, don't you?" Arnav said, "You are not supposed to even question her without a lady police. I didn't want to bring this up -- but if you like I can have you talk to ACP Rathod posted in Mangalore."

"That won't be necessary!" The Inspector's voice lowered considerably. "The lady can leave."

An hour later, Arnav came back home and assured, her, Manav and his worried aunt, that everything was under control. As he went up the stairs toward his room, Khushi followed him.

 "I am sorry Arnav. I should have listened to you."

He walked to the terrace and turned around raking his hand through his hair.

"But you didn't!" Arnav hit back at her. "I warned you about the boy. His attachment to you was very unnatural. I noticed it when you all went for the art project at the school."

"I like to be friendly with my students," Khushi defended herself, "they generally open up more that way."

"Well there is a limit to the friendliness," Arnav pointed out, "You need to draw a line with students that they cannot cross!"

"I really believed he needed help when he told me about his heartbreak," Khushi said, "he seemed to be genuine – I don't know when he started to change this way."

"Khushi, the boy has been doing drugs," Arnav said.

"What?" she was taken aback by this information. "Did you know about his all along?"

"That day at the beach – he and his friends were up to something. It was a suspicion -- so I didn't want to tell you that before investigating it thoroughly."

"But still you should have told me," she said, "why do you hide things? You don't need to protect people all the time you know."

"You wouldn't have believed me!" he exclaimed, "you said I was insensitive remember?"

Oh God! He had taken those words to heart. "That wasn't – I didn't mean --"

"Whatever!" He exclaimed raising his hands, "I don't want to talk about this anymore." He walked away in anger, without a backward glance.

Khushi tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep. Arnav and Manav had stepped out of the house and she was very sure they had gone to their favourite haunt for a drink. She stepped out of the room to use the restroom that was just next door and just as she was about to shut off the bathroom light, she noticed someone asleep on the narrow living room divan, that was set against the wall, next to the huge wooden swing. She switched on the light in the living room to see that it was Arnav. He didn't look comfortable.

"Arnav?" she gently shook his shoulder, "are you alright?"

Arnav woke up with a start touching his forehead. "I don't feel good, I threw up earlier and my body is itching." He mumbled weakly.

"Please get up," she said, "you can't sleep on the couch."

"I don't want to disturb Manav," Arnav said, "he got a little drunk tonight – he has occupied the entire bed. I am fine here."

"No, you are not. You can sleep in my room," she held his arm and tugged, "I will take the couch. Come on."

"You don't have to do that," Arnav protested but walked with her to her bedroom and flopped down on the bed.

"Take off your t-shirt." Khushi commanded.

"Why?" Arnav raised his eye brow.

"You have rashes," she said, "I will apply some soothing lotion to prevent you from scratching them and wound yourself."

As Arnav took off his t-shirt and lay down on the pillow, Khushi sat next to him on the bed and began to apply the lotion on his rashes. She couldn't help but notice how magnificent his body looked as she dabbed the lotion on his muscular chest and the hard planes of his abs. She gently turned him on his side and applied them on his back trying not to feel the flex of his muscles, reminding herself, that he was ill.

"This medicine is for the allergy." She handed him medicine and her bottle of water. Then she noticed the cut on the side of his calf. "Oh, my God! Your leg is bleeding. How?"

"I think I got cut while trying to chase that idiot."

Khushi brought in some water from the bathroom and washed the wound carefully. Then she brought a first-aid box from the cupboard, applied some anti septic ointment and dressed the wound with a clean bandage.

"Khushi, can you give me something for headache?" he asked her, "my head is splitting."

"I don't think you should take any more pills," she said, "move over a little so I can massage your head."

Khushi leaned her back against the head board, her legs folded under her. She slipped her hands into his thick hair, pressing the scalp gently but firmly in soothing motions.

"You shouldn't drink so much." She chastised him

Arnav snuggled his head into her lap. "It wasn't the drink," he replied weakly, "it was Manav's favourite fish fry at that Godforsaken café. It's an allergy due to food poisoning." His arm fell across her thigh. "Thank you for taking care of me." he mumbled half asleep.

Khushi's eyes filled with tears. She had only been harping on Srijit's wellbeing, forgetting that Arnav had risked his life to save the young boy from drowning in the ocean. Arnav's intuition about Srijit had been right, whereas she, being his counsellor, had missed the signs. How could she have been so blind?

"I am sorry." He whispered, "I wasn't angry with you – but at myself."

"I don't think it was --"

He didn't let her finish. "It was my fault that I let it come this far. I was too caught up to notice the signs earlier. I just want you to know that I have made sure Srijit will not be harassed by the police," Arnav muttered, "I will be talking to his parents about getting him some serious help for his drug problem."

Years ago, Arnav's intuition had helped Manav and Payal. As Ramya had mentioned earlier, Payal trusted people at face value and might have been an easy victim for those who wanted to lure her into a trap. Leaving aside Payal's feelings for a moment, she needed to acknowledge the fact that Arnav had looked out for her.

But what about Rashmi? Was he just looking out for her as well?

"Arnav, can I ask you something? "

"I want to sleep now Khushi," he murmured, "let's talk tomorrow."

As Khushi made a move to leave, he tightened his arms around her, and they lay on the bed not saying anything for a while. As she heard his steady breath Khushi realized that the allergy medicine had finally kicked in, forcing him into deep slumber.

Khushi moved his arm carefully, and got up from the bed. She spread a mattress on the floor and as she lay on it, she looked at Arnav's face. Flashes of the kiss that she hadn't allowed herself to think about all day long, passed through her mind. She couldn't believe that this man, with a normally somber demeanor, had kissed her so passionately under a banyan tree on a moonlit night.

With startling clarity, she realized that she had feelings for Arnav -- his relationship with Rashmi notwithstanding.

Despite being aware of Arnav and Rashmi's relationship, Payal had still harboured feelings for Arnav. Was she any different from her sister?

 The way he had made her feel last night was something she had never felt before, and had left her craving for more. The thought scared her. What was happening to her?