Khushi
When she was ready, her fallen payal on her ankle and the repaired blouse under her dupatta, Khushi made her way to the Munh Dikhayi function. Her nervousness, which had disappeared briefly during the ... adventure ... with Arnav-ji, had returned in full force. She stood silently, watching through her dupatta as her sister was introduced to the guests.
"Manorama," a heavily made-up lady pitched her voice to carry across the room, "Are you sure that's your bahu?"
"Yes," Mami-ji peeked under Jiji's dupatta, "It is."
"Then who is that?"
Khushi trembled as everyone turned to stare at her, suddenly glad that for the veil that hid her face.
"That's Khushi," Anjali-ji said.
"Khushi? As far as we know, the bride's sister is named Khushi," another woman spoke up.
"Did she marry into the house as well? Without warning?"
The women murmured amongst themselves as Anjali-ji ponderously climbed the stairs to stand beside her.
"Did something happen so that she had to get married so quickly?"
Khushi closed her eyes.
They think that I ... that Arnav-ji and I ...
"That's ENOUGH!"
Arnav-ji stood in the corridor, hands fisted and eyes flashing.
"Before you say anything else, remember that the person you're speaking of is my wife," he stepped down to stand on her other side, "And I will not tolerate anyone speaking of any of the Raizada bahus in this manner."
A startled jolt travelled through her as he took her hand to lead her down the stairs, not stopping until they were standing in front of the lady who'd spoken.
"Don't forget that you are a guest in my house."
The lady remained defiant, looking to her companions for support, "We're simply questioning such a hasty wedding. No announcement, no warning, and here you are, married."
"I don't owe anyone any explanations," Arnav-ji declared icily, his fingers tightening around hers.
"Chhote!" Nani-ji approached them, her mouth twisted in displeasure, "This is no way to treat our guests."
The ladies sniffed and tittered but seemed unwilling to pick a fight with him.
"We'll begin the ceremony," Anjali-ji broke the uncomfortable silence.
When they were settled side by side on a makeshift seat, faces veiled, Jiji surreptitiously reached for her hand. Khushi twined their fingers together, glad for the unspoken support. They stayed like that as the procession of ladies passed by, lifting their veils and bestowing blessings or praise before setting a gift on the table in front of them.
Aakash-ji sat on Jiji's other side, ducking his head as the ladies gushed about what a beautiful pair they made. Under the cover of her dupatta, Khushi saw that he traced his fingers along Jiji's arm when he thought them unobserved. Jealousy stabbed at her as she wished for what they had, but it was quickly replaced by cold, sinking feeling as she regretted her thoughts immediately.
She felt Arnav-ji's stare from where he sat at the dining table, his phone in his hands. Feeling unexpectedly humiliated by the ceremony, she wished with all her heart that he'd chosen to sit next to her.
Just for a little while.
Suddenly he stood, and for a heartbeat, Khushi imagined that he'd heard her thoughts before she realised that he was going upstairs.
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Charade (IPKKND AU)
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