Remembering Us

Strength

"Hari Prakash will get it bitiya," said Nani as Anjali made to go open the door. But Anjali never liked it when they thought she needed to be mollycoddled. She resolutely made it to the door ignoring her protesting leg. Plastering a smile on her face she opened the door only to see Khushi standing outside holding what looked like a thousand bags. Her smile immediately turned into a genuine one and she rushed to help Khushi with the bags.

"I'll manage Di," said Khushi, panting profusely. Stamping out the flame of anger that rose in her chest when Khushi refused her help, Anjali tried again.

"Khushi, let me help you. Please," she said, this time a bit more sternly.

Khushi turned to Anjali and realised her mistake. Immediately she handed a few bags to Di and smiled apologetically.

Anjali of-course forgave Khushi immediately. In fact Khushi was the only one who was treating her like she wanted to be treated. After the whole incident with Sh-

No. She musn't think about that. Was that wetness on her cheeks? She rubbed it away and Khushi had the grace to look like she hadn't seen anything.

"So, this is all the stuff that I might need when we're in Mumbai!" Khushi said brightly announcing the fact to the room at large.

"Khushi bitiya, are you sure you want to go? I hope Chottay didn't force you.."

"No no Naniji, I've always wanted to go to Mumbai! And I make my own decisions, not Chottay!" said Khushi gleefully.

"What the hell did you just call me?" asked Arnav who had just walked into the hall. He was in the middle of a phone conversation and had his hand over the receiver. He was looking at Khushi with an incredulous expression. 

Khushi only poked her tongue out at him in response and winked. He walked off saying, 'Not you Aman. You had better still call me sir' into the phone shaking his head at Khushi. 

"Now you've made him all angry," laughed Nani.

Chottay was a moody one, Nani reflected. It was good that he had found Khushi. She made him happy in a way that she had forgotten. All her long years and she still remembered her grandson's transition into a scowling, condescending boy. Khushi had been like a force of nature in his life. She had turned his world upside down. Broken down each of his walls one by one. She had once wondered what Khushi saw in him. He had a heart of gold and anyone would be lucky to even have acquaintance with him, but that was ever so rare as he was the only one who decided whom he wanted to open up to. Chottay never warmed to anyone easily. He preferred being aloof. But perhaps it was her grandson's goodness and pure heart that had won Khushi over. They had found each other, she realised happily.

She looked around to retreive her knitting when she saw Khushi talking in a low voice to Anjali. It was Khushi who had helped bring Anjali back from her personal hell. What does your life have left when the only truth you believe in, the one that your life revolves around turns out to be the biggest lie? But Anjali had surprised everyone. She had thrown herself into heaps of work that was easily found in Chottay's office. She would spend weekends with the kids in the Aashram. But all that had come with time. In the aftermath of Shyam's truth coming out, Anjali had restricted conversations to the bare minimum, Khushi being the only exception. While Chottay had been Anjali's main support, Khushi had been her only solace. While she would try and forget the fiasco and learn to start afresh by having conversations with her brother, she would only ever cry in front of Khushi. But she noticed Anjali had a lot of sorting up to do before she could pretend her life was normal again. Her poor darling child. 

It seemed the whole family had reasons to be grateful for Chottay finding Khushi. For them finding each other, she corrected herself.