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Khushi
It’s the first day of the three-day conference and this is not how I had expected the Business Conference to be. Top executives and management of almost twenty different companies are attending this conference today and I get a seat exactly opposite to Aarav Raichand? That’s not a coincidence for sure. He's sitting before me, talking to a few other company executives, but the moment I take a seat, his gaze locks on me, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. A stupid thrill rises in my body as the conference commences and when Aarav doesn't take his eyes off me. Is that how he is going to utilize all of his time here? I try to focus on the speaker, ignoring Aarav’s blazing gaze on my body. Minutes turn into an hour and Aarav has still not taken his eyes off my face. I might not directly see him but I can still grasp that easily. Though it infuriates me as Khushi Thakur, I can sense what kind of chemistry he might have had with his wife Jhanvi. If a man gives that kind of hot look to his woman, it’s heavenly life ahead.
Through the corner of my eye, I sense his gaze flickering on his phone screen and an odd pang runs through my chest as I turn in his direction to check on him. His suit and hair are immaculate as always but his eyes look worried as he types back on his phone. A second later, he hastily rises from his chair and walks out. Why did he leave the conference in the middle? Why am I bothered? I turn back to focus on the speaker but my eyes keep drifting to the entrance to see if he is coming back. One minute later, I am tapping my fingers nervously on the table. Two minutes later, I can’t take my eyes off the door and that’s it. I don’t let the third minute pass. Rising from the chair I make my way out. The lobby of the hotel where this conference is being held is almost deserted but I hear his voice from the left corner and I’m off to look what’s making him scream on the phone and to whom?
“What do you mean she fell down? What were you doing when that happened?” he yells on his phone. “Pass the phone to Aarvi. I will speak to her.”
Aarvi?My heart skips a beat. This name stirs something in my heart. The next instant I hear a baby’s wailing and I grip the pillar to keep myself from falling. It’s Aarav’s daughter and he has turned on the video call. Though I can’t see his daughter as Aarav’s back covers my view, I can still hear her soft whimpers.
“Baby stop crying. You are Daddy’s brave girl, aren’t you?” Aarav tries to soothe her down but she continues to cry. “Aarvi.. sweetheart look at me. You are going on a playdate to Amaya tonight, aren’t you? Should I tell Jaya Aunty to make you custard pudding?”
Her cries soften and she begins to speak. All I hear is her voice.
“Yesh.. I want pudding. I want you and Mommy too.”
My throat aches at her request. Doesn't she know her mommy is never returning? Hasn’t Aarav told her? But she’s too young to understand it. I realize Aarav has stiffened and he exhales loudly before speaking to his daughter again.
“Daddy will come back in two days, I promise. And I’ll tell Jaya aunty to make you pudding. Now come on, smile and let your Nanny apply the medicine on your foot.”
“It will hurt,” she cries again.
“It won’t, Sweetheart. Look at me when she does that and it won’t. Okay?”
“Hmmm.”
It takes another minute for Aarav to continue this call with Aarvi who seems to let her nanny heal her wounds. Once she sounds okay, Aarav gives strict instructions to the nanny to look after Aarvi well, and he disconnects the call to return to the conference. I immediately hide behind the pillar. The moment he steps into the conference room, I breathe again and wipe the tears from my cheeks. Wait! Was I crying? Probably the baby’s whimpers and her pain brought tears to my eyes. It’s strange because ever since my memories have been lost, I haven’t shown such strong emotions for anyone apart from myself. It feels like I have some connection already with Aarav’s daughter. However awkward it sounds, I want to get to her, take her in my arms and comfort her. It’s weird. I have never felt this for any other child before.
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On the second day of the Conference I swap my seat with a gentleman who happily lets me take his place somewhere in the front row. This puts me in a zone away from Aarav’s scrutiny but even then, throughout the conference I feel his gaze pricking my back. Not good! The whole of last night I couldn’t sleep well thinking how Aarav must be handling his daughter without his wife? Wish God hadn’t taken away Jhanvi from them. The thoughts of how happy their family would have been in her presence made me want to see them together somehow, and I kept on surfing his social media profile and Jhanvi’s too. After a long search finally found a short video of the couple with their three-year-old daughter during their holiday trip in Mauritius. Jhanvi was in a baby pink Sarong shooting the video, giving a glimpse of herself first before turning the camera towards Aarav who was only in his black boxers, inside a private swimming pool, teaching his daughter to swim whereas Jhanvi splashed the water at them. Aarvi had a tube around her chest, holding her safe above the water surface. Aarav swam to Jhanvi in two strokes and pulled her in the pool with him. She giggled holding his hard shoulders as he nuzzled his lips at the sensitive skin of her neck and the video came to an end.
That one-minute video flashed repeatedly in my sleep torturing me with feelings I never felt before. Why was I so restless seeing their pictures and that video of Aarav Raichand’s happy family? There were instances when I literally felt it was me present in that location, shooting that video myself which was so odd because if that feeling was true, it only meant Aarav’s claim of me being Jhanvi and not Khushi Thakur was true.
It was only because of these thoughts that I swapped my seat to stay away from even the gaze of that man today in the conference, only if it was remotely possible.
During the buffet after the conference, I am tempted to try the shrimps when I hear his voice.
“You are allergic to shrimps, don’t eat them. Try the fish instead.”
I stare at him in disbelief. Did he just say that?
“I am serious.”
“I am sure you are but I am not Jhanvi and I love shrimps. You can’t stop me from having them.”
I serve some shrimps on my plate and am about to eat one when Aarav holds my arm.
“Why do you want to hurt your body? Your body itches whenever you eat them.”
I shrug from his hold and put it in my mouth. Aarav glares at my actions.
“Nothing will happen to me, Aarav Raichand. Because I am Khushi Thakur.”
I walk away from him before he can argue. I just don’t understand why he isn’t leaving me alone to mind my own business? Whatever!! His concerns will be dispelled when he sees me normal even after eating the shrimps, and if he continues to make assumptions, I will fail him in all.
The day's conference is about to come to an end in an hour. I scratch the back of my palm. It’s weird that I am scratching it so badly but the itching doesn't stop. It spreads throughout my arms in another 20 minutes. Thankfully the conference ends and I make my way to the washroom. Did I apply any wrong lotion today? Or is it because of the shower gel at the hotel? But why is it that only my arms are itching? I am about to reach the washroom area when I see Aarav speaking to someone from the conference and my doubts clear. He had told me I’m allergic to shrimps. Correction. Jhanvi is allergic to shrimps. That’s why the itching. But I am not Jhanvi. My steps falter at those thoughts. Two people can have the same allergy. Maybe we both are allergic to shrimp. Yes. That’s it. I don’t have to ponder much over this silly thing. I quickly head to the washroom, wash my hands with cold water, apply some lotion on them to soothe the itching and then make my way to the car to return to the hotel.
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