Once Upon A Hullabaloo!

CHAPTER 8

"Nice ride." Naitik remarked checking out Kshitij's car as he loaded off my suitcase from it's trunk.

Naitik and I had walked back out of the haveli-verandah to help Kshitij with the luggage.

"It sure is." I murmured standing next to him.

Kshitij was stretching himself by the front-bonnet while his eyes were fixed on that haveli in front. The sun was almost down and the holy bells of evening aarti could be heard pleasantly tuning along with the chirping of the kids playing on the street.

"That guy definitely is too fancy to be your chauffeur. Who's he?" Naitik asked as we made our way towards Kshitij with my bag.

Kshitij turned around and stretched out his hand towards Naitik, " Kshitij Gulati. I'm Omanah's---"

"Friend!" I jumped in interrupting, "He is my.... my friend from Mumbai."

Naitik shook his hand shooting me a side glance, "Naitik. Omi's younger sibling. We are delighted to have you over."

Naitik walked off ahead with my bag and I stood by Kshitij as he gave me a confused look.

"I thought I was to play your boyfriend." He whispered.

"Yes you are. We are in a fake relationship but we pretend to be just friends in front of my family." I explained in a whisper. 

"Wait, let me summarize this." His lips were twitching to break into a mock-grin, " You got yourself a fake boyfriend so that he could pretend to be not involved with you  which in fact is the actual reality." 

I rolled my eyes, "I know it sounds crazy, you don't have to flash a hundred spotlights over it!  Miral believes that you're my boyfriend and that we would like to keep this under wraps until we decide that we are serious enough to involve our families."

"Miral is the bride?"

I nodded in the response.

"The cousin you don't get along with? The person for whom you went through a trouble of getting a fake boyfriend?"

I gave a reluctant nod, " I'm pathetic, aren't I?" I buried my face in my palms.

"Life gets to us sometimes. It's not always possible to emerge out of the mess with our heads high. We always forget that we are humans who tend to disappoint others or sometimes even ourselves." He squeezed my shoulders in reassurance, "But here's the best part, we know to get over the damned thing and perhaps find an upside of it to continue surviving the infamous battle of life." 

I looked up to meet his eyes as a reflex to the unexpected heat I felt against my shoulder. Awkwardly shrugging off his light grip as discreetly as possible( was NOT a least bit discreet to start with!), I tucked back a loose strand of hair falling on my face.

"Let's go girlfriend!" He slapped my butt making me jump.

"First, that's the last time you slap my butt and walk away with your arm intact in it's place." I warned taken a little off guard, "And second, don't ever address me as girlfriend, makes you sound freakishly girly."

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The cream walls of the haveli drawing room were in a pleasant contrast with the traditional wooden lower-sitting in the centre. The splash of colours on cushions and aesthetically mirrored tapestries hanging around on the walls screamed the liveliness of  north-western India. 

Walking towards the door on the opposite end which led to the courtyard which was bound on all four sides with the haveli built around it, we came to a halt. Baa in her crisp cream and blue saree, draped in gujarati style, standing there with her hands humbly folded to a secluded tulsi-plant timidly flourishing on a sandstone stand in the centre of the courtyard with an illuminated lamp on it's edge was a familiar sight.