Chapter One
The early rays of sunshine streamed in the French windows and bathed the room. Khushi awoke to find her left hand held snugly in Arnav’s. Khushi turned to gaze into his handsome face, turned boyish in sleep and smiled. Whatever he was elsewhere; ASR at work or Chotey for the family, he was the most loving and romantic husband in the 4 walls of their room, her Arnavji.
She felt her face flush thinking of their lovemaking last night. She was trying to follow some yoga exercises on her laptop, because she had read that yoga relaxes the mind.
Somehow, watching her do those poses had turned Arnav on. He came over to help and started distracting her by placing kisses over various parts of her before claiming her attention completely. They had made love right there on the floor, the new yoga postures and poses put to good use. Arnav tucked them into bed later, snuggling into her sleepily. As she held his sleeping form, her thoughts started wandering.
Arnav: ‘ Actually Khushi,for some time in college, Sheetal and I were seeing each other. You know ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’?’
Khushi: ‘Boyfriend-girlfriend? But she said she didn’t know you at all?!’
Arnav :’ I’m not surprised she said that. She’s strange like that…’
Khushi was momentarily stupefied at the look on Arnav’s face. He was down in memory lane, a small smile on his face, thinking of past events between Sheetal and him, memories in which she had no place. It hurt terribly.
Arnav : ‘You know how I am. In fact, I still am this way. I hardly had time for friends. But she and I had an understanding. We became good friends. After some time we realized it was not love, and we parted. That’s all there is to it. It meant nothing… ‘
An understanding? What did that mean? A commitment to lunch every weekend and public holidays? Accompanying each other to events? Contact person in case of emergency? Or…
Or solace in times of loneliness? Warmth and comfort in times of need?
Sex?
Before she could stop her hyperacute imagination, she saw mental pictures of Sheetal in Arnav’s arms, kissing , touching, arms entwined in passion.
Hey DM, give me strength !
Did he do all those intimate things with her too? With her first ? Khushi felt the corners of her mouth curl down all by themselves in dismay. Momentarily she gave in to crippling self condemnation that came with low self esteem.
Arnavji always made her feel special, made her feel beautiful just by looking at her, when they were alone. He never said but she often felt gauche when going out with him, fearing that she might be an embarrassment to him in front of his business partners. She often kept quiet and withdrew, which Arnav interpreted as disenjoyment. Soon Arnavji stopped asking her to these events, going alone thinking she didn’t enjoy them. But Khushi felt even worse, thinking she was an embarrassment.
Her turbo engine speed mind screeched to a halt when she felt Arnav move slightly. With a smooth move he turned over to her and buried his head in the crook of her neck, both of his hands creeping around her to hold her close. He inhaled deeply and murmured in a voice husky with sleep,
‘Good morning baby…’ He’d started calling her that recently, during their most intimate moments. It always made her heart skip, her assuming the most intimate spot in Arnav’s life. His hot breath on her neck was causing havoc to her senses as he nuzzled at her, while his hands skimmed all over her.
Did he use to call Sheetal ‘baby’ too?? her heart dropped like a stone.
‘Arnavji…’ she whispered.
“Hmmm…?’ he queried, as he continued to nip at her shoulders, moving southward.
‘Arnavji, please stop…’
Arnav lifted his head and looked into her eyes. He was puzzled with the frown on her face, with the disturbed look in her eyes. Pareshaan…
‘Baby, what’s the matter?’ he cupped her face in his palms and asked tenderly. And a frisson of worry coursed through him as he saw a sheen of moisture coat her eyes. Her tears always undid him.
‘Hey sweetie, kya hua? Tell me right now!’ Arnav had pulled her into sitting position and pulled her into a bear hug. She shook her head silently and buried her head in his chest. She avoided his searching eyes and fled to the bathroom.
‘I’m late for morning prayers. I’d better go quickly,’ she told him as she locked the bathroom door and stood against it. When she emerged later, Arnav had gone for his morning jog, and Khushi escaped to the kitchen to prepare for breakfast.
When Arnav joined everyone at breakfast, he was convinced about his wife. Something is eating away at her inside. She wouldn’t tell him what it was, and she kept her eyes averted whenever he tried to make eye contact. Something big and disturbing. His bubbly effervescent wife has retreated into a shell and he could almost hear the cogwheels turning in that hyperspeed brain of hers.
‘Arnav, what’s your take on the latest designs your competitor has released? Don’t you think their vibrant colors make your collections look monotonous?’ Sheetal ventured in way of conversation.
Distracted by the suddenness of the question, Arnav got involved in that conversation, speaking with Sheetal in fast and fluent business English, and failed to see his wife’s face fall further. He argued with Sheetal about the fickleness of the couture industry and how he had a hunch AR’s collections will be more critically praised. He caught Anjali’s stern look, and looked at her puzzled.
Di signalled with her eyes at Khushi, standing at the far end of the table, and NK was patting her hand consolingly, his smile trying to give her encouragement. What the heck is going on there!!
Why is Khushi upset? Then it was like a large club whacked his head.
Their conversation last night about his “meant nothing” relationship with Sheetal. Her probing questions about their past relationship. Her attempts at finding ‘peace’ with yoga. Hiding in the cupboard eating channe. Avoiding his eyes all morning.
And the doofus he was, having an ostentatious conversation in English with her in front of everyone, showing their over familiarity.
It was Sheetal she was upset about. His past with her. He watched as Khushi took surreptitious looks at Sheetal admiringly; enviously.
He felt awful. Khushi was his life. She was the most gorgeous thing in his life, most precious, most enchanting. That she should feel inadequate in his eyes was absolutely ridiculous. He had eyes only for her, and she must know that!
Sheetal has to go, he decided.
The Imprisoned Romantic 