HI RANI!
That was AWSOME!! u know your story is probably the only one that
makes me question myself soem of the things that i dont understand
and then u solve them at the end of each part by using really nice
words. see that really proves what a wonderful writer u are! liek in
this part, i didn't come to figure out that the guy was acting as
bhavi's dad. that part made me question "y is his dad being so nice"
adn then i was like oo its just someone else. lol. i'm serious thats
exactly how real story books are. am i making u blush again? lol. i'm
sorry if i am, i really mean all of this.

Qandeel

--- In kajolworld@y..., rageshvari <no_reply@y...> wrote:
> The courthouse loomed ahead. She surreptitiously checked her
rearview
> mirror, and this time she could not beat down her worry. An ancient
> and rusted brown Maruti was still behind her. Feeling the blood
drain
> from her face, Bhavi restrained herself from turning in her seat
and
> finding out who her follower was. That would fully compromise her
own
> identity.
> There was only one explanation. Mr. Kaante had trumped her
deception –
> he had never been asleep.
> Nothing could be done about that now, Bhavi knew. He could try and
> follow her, but he couldn't stop her. Clutching the purse with the
> necessary paperwork inside, Bhavi waited in her car. Bleakly, she
saw
> the Maruti park nearby. Nothing could be gained from hiding.
Putting
> up her chin, she decided to get out of her car. From the corner of
> her eye, she saw that a large man emerged from the Maruti.
> He was not Mr. Kaante.
> Before the sigh of relief could come, the world tilted as she
> realized that her father must have hired more than one bodyguard.
> More likely, he had hired an army of them. Well, if she had drugged
> one of them, maybe she could try hand-to-hand combat with this one.
> Discarding that last thought, she steadily walked towards the
> courthouse steps. No need to show fear. Poise, outward poise, she
> repeated to herself.
> "Suniye…(Hello)?" A man's voice called out to her.
> She stopped mid-stride, and without thinking, started running. The
> man's voice rose higher behind her, but she didn't dare turn around.
> His eyes widened as he caught his first sight of her. With the sun
> blazing in his eyes, she could very well have been a mirage. A
> trembling mirage, he suddenly realized, as he saw her start to run.
> He struggled to call her name, but the word stuck in his throat.
No,
> the word Bhairavi stuck somewhere in the proximity of his ribs.
> She stopped running as soon as her frantic gaze caught him standing
> at the very top of the steps that lined the front of the antiquated
> courthouse. Very easily, every thought meandered out of her head,
> replaced by a simple awareness. Steadying one shivering hand to
catch
> hold of her sari, she began to climb towards him.
> Was she floating? Surely, her feet were not touching the stone
steps?
> The first step towards her was taken almost without Avirat's
> knowledge. When I see you, he wanted to whisper, I become a
rambling
> poet. All these images and phrases form in my head. They're
> beautiful, so divine and pure. But nothing ever slips out. A poet
> without words. You make me that.
> Bhavi climbed the stairs as he descended to meet her, and they met
in
> the middle.
> It was when she stood directly beside him, that Avirat knew the
very
> words he wanted to say to her.
> "Be my…" He lost himself, drowning in the eyes that spoke
> their own language, feeling himself weak, as if he would fall to
his
> knees.
> "What?" she whispered, a half-formed expectation awakening
> itself inside of her.
> They stood too close to each other on that narrow step,
> feeling, yet not understanding. Only when reality snapped its
fingers
> did they each have the presence of mind to step away from one
> another.
> "Be my guest," he softly, almost sadly told her, gallantly
> extending his arm to lead the way.
> Bhavi wanted to stop him, to ask, but she quieted the impulse
> and followed him to a room that contained three others: Chutki,
> Babuji and the judge. With the arrival of Avirat and Bhavi, the
party
> was only missing her father.
> It was then that the burly man stormed through the half-open
> doors of the courtroom. The instant Bhavi caught sight of his face,
> she knew what was about to happen. Feeling her cheeks reddening,
she
> took wobbly steps forward and stopped the owner of the Maruti.
> "I-I can explain…Mr. Kaa – "
> "Oh, don't worry about it! I practiced all my lines
three
> times!"
> The grin he was wearing could hardly be seen under his
> very large, very bushy mustache. Stepping past Bhavi, he approached
> the younger woman standing beside Avirat, and announced, "Lo beti
> mein aa gaya! Aur ye Avirat hoga, na? Kya hatta khatta naujawan hai…
> mujhe to bahut pasand aa gaya! Ab chal, Avirat aur teri shaadi kar
> de. (Look daughter, I have come! And this here must be Avirat,
right?
> What a strong, young man he looks to be…I like him very much! Now
> come, let's get you and Avirat married)"
> "Kya (What)!?" a flabbergasted Chutki almost screamed.
> "Kyu beti? Kya tumhe vishvaas nahin ho raha hai ki
mujhe
> Avirat ko apna jamaai banaane mein koi itraaz nahin hai…? (Why,
> daughter? Can you not believe that I am willing to make Avirat my
son-
> in-law?)"
> "Vishvaas (Believe)?" Chutki miserably voiced, eying
her
> brother, "Vishvaas mujhe nahin, Babuji ko karna hai…(It's not me
who
> has to believe, but Babuji…)"
> Before Chutki could finish, and mostly to cover up her
> words, Avirat spoke up, "Sir, let introduce you to my Babuji, and
> this here is my `sister', Chutki."
> "Kya (What)?" the shocked man stammered, repeating the
> same reaction Chutki had earlier displayed. "Tumhaari behan hai ye
to…
> (If this is your sister, then…)" he muttered, swiveling to see the
> other young woman in the room.
> "Bhavari!" He shouted as a greeting, striding towards a
> queasy looking Bhavi and putting his arm around her.
> At this, a stunned Bhavi could only shoot a decidedly
> scared look to Avirat.
> "Bhavari?" Babuji finally interjected, "Beti
(Daughter),
> I thought your name was Bhairavi."
> "Pet name! It's, um, her pet name," Avirat nearly
> shouted, his desperation evident.
> "Bhairavi!" the other man loudly repeated, focusing his
> gaze on Bhavi as he frantically added, "Mujhe lagta hai ki tum
Avirat
> ke saath bahut khush rahogi. Dekho kitna chalaak ladka hai…(I think
> you will be very happy with Avirat. Look what a clever young man he
> is…)"
> Bhavi, struggling under the weight of the heavy man's
> arm, had by now figured out the game. She shot an exasperated look
> towards Avirat. "Chalaak ya badmaash…? (Clever or devilish?)" she
> mumbled to herself.
> A stony silence followed this, as everyone waited for
> Babuji to see through the whole charade. But, they say marriages
are
> made somewhere beyond the clouds. And this one, false or true, was
> definitely a pre-decided one.
> The next time Bhavi saw the stone steps where she had
> stood just an hour ago, she was a married woman. New names were now
> attached to her person. Bahu, bhabhi aur biwi*. (Wife, Sister-in-
Law,
> Daughter-in-Law). She squirmed when she thought about the
hollowness
> of it all.
> "Beti…meri beti…(Daughter, my daughter…)" her assumed father
> affectionately cried, his arm around her, as Bhavi realized that
she
> would even have to pretend suffering.
> "Father," Bhavi returned brokenly, taking in the full impact
> of her guilt and feeling the tears coming easily.
> Avirat put his hand on her shoulder, and she could feel his
> remorse, tangibly. Then, leaning over her, he whispered something
> quickly to her "father", something that sounded like, "Ten o'clock."
> With the removal of her "father" from the party, the
> Bharadwajs' led her to the borrowed car they had come in. Drowning
in
> self-mortification, she quietly went through all the traditions
> required of a newly-wedded wife entering her husband's house. It
was
> nearly nine by the time they finished all the welcoming and sat
down
> to an awkward dinner. Afterwards, Bhavi flushed even deeper when
> Babuji slyly pointed them towards Avirat's bedroom, waiting till
they
> had closed the door behind them.
> Stretched garlands of jasmine and roses had been hung over
> and around the bed. Both Avirat and Bhavi eyed it and tried not to
> show their embarrassment. Each decided to be rational, but when
they
> abruptly turned towards each other, Bhavi's arm brushed past
Avirat's
> chest. And stunning electricity charged between them.
> "I, uh, need…" Bhavi began, quite forgetting the rest
of
> her sentence.
> "Need…" He said lingeringly.
> She opened her mouth, but just then, they heard a
> shuffling sound outside the bedroom door. Avirat, instinctively
> clamped his hand on Bhavi's mouth, stopping her from making any
> noise. Instead of becoming anxious, or even attuned to the noise,
> Bhavi felt the warmth of his hand on her face. The scent of jasmine
> stole into her and instead of pulling his hand away, she found
> herself swaying closer to him.
> If it wasn't for the toll of the grandfather clock, well, she
> didn't want to think about what could have happened. The chimes
> penetrated the haze that they had drifted into, and each pulled
back.
> "Leave," Avirat murmured, finishing her former sentence, "You
> need to get back."
> Some sensible portion of her brain agreed to his suggestion,
> as she watched him listen at the door for further noises. When
there
> was none, he stalked towards the windows and threw them open.
> To leave, they would have to get down two stories. Bhavi let
> out a pent up breath, as she raked a hand through her hair and
> considered Avirat with incredulity.
> "I'm not a rock climber and neither am I stupid," She
> finally told him, "What do you plan to do?"
> "You mean out of those two choices?" Avirat shot back at
> her with a lazy grin, "Take the stupid way, but do it smartly."
> "Oh yeah, I married the chaalak ladka (clever boy)
right?"
> Bhavi retorted with a playful grin, referring to what her pretend
> father had announced at the courthouse.
> He smiled up at her, and without thought let his fingers move
> lightly over her curved lips. The touch rendered Bhavi immobile.
> "We, ah, we better get started. We don't have much time,"
> Avirat hesitantly explained, pulling a coil of rope from under the
> bed.
> Without further explanation, he pulled the rope around her
> waist and tied it firmly in a knot. They other end, he tied and
> wrapped around his arm. They tested the strength of the knot, and
> then Avirat leaned out the window and gave three sharp knocks
against
> the side of it. A few moments later, they heard three identical
> knocks from below.
> About a hundred questions formed in Bhavi's mind. Before she
> could voice them, Avirat put a finger on her lips to quiet her.
With
> resolute determination, he spoke.
> "I know that life has acquainted us in the strangest way,
> then put us in circumstances we could have never imagined. It's
true
> that we hardly know each other, so separated are our situations.
But,
> I want you to know that I would never hurt you. I will keep you
safe,
> Bhavi. Do you trust my promise?"
> She returned his gaze, her face illuminated by moonlight.
> Barely managing to nod, she placed her hand in his proffered hand
and
> watched him lay it against his heart.
> Avirat did not know how long they stood there, but perhaps a
> few minutes later, he was explaining the method of Bhavi's trip
down
> the side of his building. He would be holding on to the ropes that
> would let her down. And she would be using the balcony railings on
> either side of the window to steady herself. At the bottom, the
actor
> from the courthouse would be waiting for her.
> Bhavi climbed over the window with his help, gazing at the
> concentration on Avirat's face. He held the rope fiercely. And she
> was again reassured that he would keep her safe. At the bottom, the
> actor caught her and untied her ropes.
> How would Avirat get down? Before she could stammer a question, she
> saw Avirat agilely use the railings to make his way down. He didn't
> even need a rope.
> "He's done this before, hasn't he?" She voiced, a question
> more for herself.
> "With Avirat's reputation – well, he must be an expert on
> climbing in an out of windows!" The burly man answered with a
> chuckle, and then looked frightfully uneasy as if he had said
> something he should not have.
> Bhavi turned to ask him what he meant, but was stopped by
> Avirat's soft landing beside her. With quick and noiseless steps,
> they went around the old building and headed for the car that
> Avirat's friend had brought with him.
> With sincere gratitude, Bhavi shook the man's hand. He, in
> turn, placed his hand on her head, and gave her his blessings.
> "Munnabhai…" Avirat began, and the two men grinned and
> clapped each other on the back.
> With that, Avirat and Bhavi got in the car and speeded
> through the empty roads towards her house. In the car, their
> conversation concerned their future stratagems. Avirat explained
that
> she would have to return for Bahu bhoj (Meal cooked by Bride) in
the
> morning. Afterwards, Munnabhai would call Babuji and explain that
> Bhavi's dying aunt's last wish was for niece to stay with her.
> "That way, Babuji won't suspect why you're not living with
> me."
> With us, Avirat meant to say. Living with us. He could see
> her ashen face, and cursed himself for being its cause. The car
> stopped by the stone fence near the back of the house. Avirat got
> out, effortlessly lifting Bhavi over the fence. She didn't say a
word
> through all this, remaining distantly thoughtful. He climbed over
the
> fence to join her.
> "I think, we've given Babuji plenty to suspect, but he plain
> doesn't want to," Bhavi began, her voice so low he could barely
hear
> her, "The courthouse sham. The-the night before when you announced
> that my father was out of town and then five minutes later
pretended
> that he was waiting at home for me…Babuji is closing his eyes to it
> all."
> "It was a sham, wasn't it?" Avirat murmured, as they stood
> just outside the orchard behind her house.
> She knew that he wasn't referring to Munnabhai's comic
> confusion at the courthouse. He was referring to the document that
> they had both so mindlessly signed.
> "On paper," she whispered, then embarrassedly continued, "I-I
> better go. Goodnight, Avirat."
> He stared at her for another long moment. "Bhavi, I think it
> would be better that we don't confuse what's on paper with what's
> real. That kind of confusion wouldn't help either of us."
> Without saying another word (why did he never say goodbye?)
> he turned on his heel, leaving her standing staring after him. She
> heard the soft jingle of the Porsche's keys in his hand as he
> resolutely jumped over the fence and disappeared. His manner, she
> realized, seemed altogether indifferent. The orchard loomed on one
> side of her, and within it danced the memories of a different
night,
> not so long ago.