Footprints on Sand

Four: Sundown [i]

Arnav stood silently by the poolside, overlooking the french windows around the living space. He was able to get a partial view of the mandir in the house. He paced around trying to get a better view of the small pooja Khushi was sitting in there. The women of the house, besides Manorama, sat in the corner obstructing his view of her. He gulped, hoping to see her break her fast open. As much as stubborn callousness towards her had made its way into his mind, the initial shock of her being his wife felt as if it had dimmed after the partially abrupt conversation with Akash.

He had been successful at avoiding confrontation of his heart, but as he saw her lift up a clay pot to drink water, warmth filled his chest. He felt being able to breathe as she bit into a jalebi and color returning to her cheeks. While restlessness of intense magnitude had been residing inside him for all of the last two days, he didn't realize that he had been this anxious for her. He noticed her stiffness midway through munching on the sweet in her hand before slowly looking up to meet his eyes. He looked away for a second before walking away from where he was standing towards his room. This surreal connection between them took him back every time he would see it confirmed by her actions. How did she know when he was around, he wondered despite not questioning that he had been able to feel her around him as well, and it all felt just natural as breathing.

He stepped into the room and forced himself to breathe to clear the restlessness filling up inside him, to distract himself from the images of her from earlier, flashing through his head until he closed his eyes and sat on the aluminum chaise next to the pool. He breathed in before closing his eyes again and memories of her falling in his arms at Sheesh Mahal clouded his mind. He felt his heart racing, threatening to burst open at the fear that was etched on her face that night. He stood up, wondering why couldn't he understand what he knew and didn't know.

Love and marriage to a girl like her meant that everything he understood about himself had changed. To add pregnancy and a child on top of these made no sense to his mind. Arnav's heart, felt more accepting of the news, more curious to explore but his mind had a voice of its own. Frustration at the predicament he had found his life to be in grew stronger and stronger until he walked out of the room again. His feet followed his heartbeat while his mind remained entangled in frustration and just as others had told him, he found himself standing before Khushi Kumari Gupta-Singh Raizada.

Her hair was twisted in a bun, held by a hair claw pin while the sari's pallu tied around her waist. Her hands were moving in a circular motion, often overlapping one another, and batter out of a muslin or linen cloth was falling into the kadhai to form, he hadn't seen someone make jalebis before. He took a step forward to peek inside, to see the shapes that orange batter might be forming. Before he could understand what he was doing, without looking up at him, she inquired what he wanted. He failed to notice the phone on the speaker next to her.

"You want something?" her tone pierced his heart more than his ego and the realization was quick to sink in.

"I—" he was shocked at the effect her words had on his heart, "What are YOU doing?" he flipped the question as if he had caught her red-handed despite knowing that she had all the right to be standing in this house and do whatever she pleases.

"Making jalebis," she responded dryly.

He glared but before he could say something, he was cut off by her.

"Arnav ji!" she said with a sigh, before indicating towards the phone laying on the counter, "I am on phone with amma. Do you want anything!"

He heard the voice of the speaker echo through the sizzling sounds from the piping hot oil in front of her, "Khushi, go and help him out with what he needs. We can talk later!"