Chapter 22: Colours

Khushi

"You talk."

"Huh?" Khushi blinked sleep from her eyes, trying to focus on the form of her husband where he sprawled on his bed.

"You talk in your sleep. I've hardly slept for the last half an hour!"

She blushed, fiddling with a curl of hair as she avoided his gaze. His sheets rustled as he shifted so they had a clearer view of each other.

"What did I say?" she asked after a short pause.

Arnav-ji tucked an arm behind his head with a contemplative hum, "Your family. Holi. Something about jalebi."

His voice — low and rough and thick with sleep — caused her pulse to skitter.

"Sorry."

Arnav-ji sat up with a sigh. His hair was in disarray and he needed a shave, but the only thought in her mind was that he was the most handsome man in all of existence. Khushi forced her gaze to remain on his face, though she knew he wore a white shirt that made him look ...

Oh Devi Maiyya!

"I was thinking of the colours I would use for Holi this year," she tried to explain, "Green for Amma and Babu-ji, orange for Bua-ji, blue for Jiji and yellow for ..."

"Yellow for you, I know."

Something about the way he looked at her, his eyes warm and his mouth tilted into a ghost of a smile, made her brave.

"Do you want to know which colour I would use for you?"

"Which one?" he frowned.

Standing, she deftly rolled up her blanket and placed it on the sofa before taking a few steps towards the bathroom. She paused just long enough to shout her answer in his direction.

"Black!"

Khushi bolted, but he was quicker. Arnav-ji rolled across the bed in a flash and intercepted her at the bathroom door. His grip was strong and sure as he picked her up and swung her around with a chuckle.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" she giggled, struggling against him half-heartedly, "I didn't say anything."

"Oh, yeah?" he breathed, his lips brushing her ear.

She shivered against him. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer. She turned her head to look at him. His eyes dropped to her mouth.

It happened slowly. The light in his eyes dimmed and his grip loosened. He stepped away. Then he looked down, running a hand through his hair, and she realised that she'd foolishly left her dupatta on the sofa. She held an arm awkwardly across her chest instead.

"I'll b-be late for the puja," she said softly.

Her husband nodded, allowing her to step into the bathroom with a heavy heart as she wished for something that could never be hers. When she emerged to gather her clothes, she found Arnav-ji standing at his wardrobe, a change of clothes bundled in his hands.

"I'll change. You can shower while I jog."

Khushi nodded, sidestepping him to get to her basta of things.

Sometime later, she traipsed downstairs to help her sister with the morning puja. And afterwards, she readied her offering to Devi Maiyya: an entire kilogram of jalebi, made by hand.

Arnav-ji — showered and changed after his jog — stepped out to the poolside area alongside the sitting room just as she was finishing up. Khushi followed after wiping her hands on a towel and found him already absorbed in his plants.

"Arnav-ji."

He turned, his eyes sliding up her figure oh-so-slowly before settling on her face. She tried to suppress the shiver than through her.

"Di organised a surprise for you ..." he spoke softly, "I think ... I think you'll like it. Have ... have fun, I'll see you this afternoon."

He nodded slightly, and if she didn't know better she might have said that he was nervous.

"Will you ..." she licked her lips, "will you play Holi with us?"

A sigh as he adjusted his grip on the garden shears he held, "No."

Disappointment rushed through her as she turned, blinking against the prickle of tears. She hadn't seriously expected him to say yes, but it was still sobering to realise that she wouldn't be celebrating her first Holi after marriage with her husband.

But then, both my marriage and my husband are ... unconventional.

She met Mama-ji in the corridor and took the opportunity to ask some pointed and careful questions about Nana-ji. Though clearly confused, he answered her questions in great detail and even blessed her before heading outside to join the revellers. She experienced a sharp pang of longing for Babu-ji.

I'll call home after I wish Devi Maiyya.

She bounded towards the stairs after making the offering and engaging in a short, private prayer, but was intercepted by Di.

"Khushi-ji, are you ready to go outside?"

"Almost, Di."

"Well, since you've applied gulaal to Devi Maiyya, shall I apply some to you as well?"

At her words, Khushi thought of the antiquated tradition that the first person to apply gulaal to a married woman should be her husband. Her eyes flicked towards the poolside in vain as she returned with Di to the sitting area. But the other woman's hand was stopped as she reached for the platter.

Shyam-ji. Khushi's pulse quickened as he dipped three fingers in the red powder.

"I want to welcome the newest member of our household with his gulaal," he smiled at his wife.

Di nodded, stepping aside, and grinned as Shyam-ji strode forward. Khushi forced herself to remain still.

Arnav-ji, she called out silently.

Her fear heightened when she noted the way the gulaal clung to Shyam-ji's fingers, looking uncomfortably like sindoor.

Or blood.

She looked up at him, finding nothing but smug satisfaction in his eyes, and stood frozen as his hand inched closer and closer to her cheek.

"I think my phone is ringing," she blurted, "I must have left it ... somewhere ..."

Khushi ignored Di's startled cry as she fled, hurrying through the front doors and onto the grounds of the estate. The sun shone brightly on row upon row of pavilions, some filled with entertainment and others with food. Every available surface had been given over to colours.

It was beautiful.

As she came to a stop, clutching her side and panting, she noted three familiar figures in the distance.

"Amma? Babu-ji? Bua-ji?"

She ran to them and was immediately engulfed in a warm embrace.

"Amma! What are you doing here?"

"Anjali-bitiya invited us. Although it's traditional for a newly-wed couple to celebrate their first Holi at the bride's home, this seems ... better."

"Di organised a surprise for you ... I think ... I think you'll like it."

Khushi hugged her mother again, "I'm so glad you decided to come."

"Amma! Bua-ji!" Jiji hurried up to them, trailed by Aakash-ji, "What a wonderful surprise!"

She watched as Jiji and Jija-ji bowed in tandem and a wave of longing gripped her as her parents blessed them and their union. She stepped up to touch Babu-ji's feet when it was her turn, closing her eyes to fight her sudden melancholy. She opened them at her mother's soft gasp.

A hand had appeared next to hers. Long, golden fingers, a strong wrist, forearm covered by the rolled back sleeve of a white shirt. Powerful shoulders, stubble, eyes that were currently watching her with something that looked like trepidation.

Arnav-ji!

Her heart sang.