RISHTAA: An Arranged Love (IPKKND AU) **ON HIATUS**

Chapter 17: Khushi

Khushi fought back tears as she mixed the batter for jalebi. The Raizada family hadn't been in contact since last night, and now it was mid afternoon. She knew that the chances of Arnav-ji's answer matching hers diminished with every hour that passed without any word from him or his family.

She'd agonised over her decision, stressing about his past relationships and his stance on religion and writing list after list of questions she needed to ask when they next met. And she'd eventually come to realise that his answers, whatever they were, wouldn't change hers. His lack of faith was a part of him, it made him him, and as long as he never interfered with her own beliefs and practises, Khushi knew she could be happy. As for his girlfriends, those faceless women who might have touched him in ways that she couldn't imagine, Arnav-ji couldn't go back and change the past, even if he wanted to. All he could do, all they could do, was look towards the future. And Khushi knew, without a doubt, that she wanted a future with him.

I'll move on if he says no, she promised herself, I won't let him destroy me. 

But her heart quailed at the prospect.

She'd carried her phone everywhere last night, sure that he'd call when he found out that she'd agreed. She'd fallen asleep in the sitting room - her phone still clutched in her hand - and dreamt of him. It was a hazy, confused dream where he'd chased her through a fogged landscape, calling her name. When he'd caught her, Khushi had buried herself in him, hiding from his all-knowing eyes. She'd gasped as his talented fingers had traced fire over her back and neck, but when she'd tried to get away, he'd held her tighter. His hands had cupped her face and his breath had mingled with hers as he'd leaned in, close, and then closer.

Hai Devi Maiyya, what a dream. How shameless I've become!

In her distraction, Khushi forgot to keep her arms away from the splattering oil. Jiji came running as she squealed in pain, a large drop burning her forearm.

"Khushi! Are you all right?"

Jiji took her arm, inspecting it carefully while reaching for the box of first aid supplies they kept on the shelf. Khushi snatched her hand away, this final injustice just too much for her tortured heart.  

"I can do it, Jiji."

She turned away so her sister couldn't see the tears that threatened to spill. But Jiji was insistent, ignoring Khushi's protests as she gently applied a cream before bandaging the wound.

"He'll call, Khushi. Devi Maiyya won't let you down," Jiji whispered.

Khushi could only nod. She returned to the jalebi after her sister left, losing herself in the rhythms of frying the batter and dipping the results in syrup. She ate mindlessly, the taste transporting her instantly to her childhood kitchen, her mother standing beside her as they made jalebi together. She had a small mountain of jalebi on her plate when she was done, a pile of warm golden spirals that usually brought joy to her heart but today only made her smile thinly.

Babu-ji looked up from his newspaper as she placed the plate on the dining table and caught her hand as she tried to escape.

"Everything will work out for the best, child," he reassured her as he pulled her into a hug.

Khushi nodded against her father's kurta before venturing outside. Happy-ji approached when he saw her appear on the veranda, smiling as he wiped his hands on a rag already saturated with grease.

"Namaste, Khushi-ji."


"Namaste, Happy-ji. How are you?"


"Good, good. Did that stern man find you?"