Shorts: An IPKKND Collection

Nainital Reimagined: Part 1

Khushi

Khushi sat alone, curled into a ball with her chin resting on her knees, shaking as fear coursed through her.

Devi Maiyya, please protect me. Protect me, Devi Maiyya.

The night was broken by moonlight streaming through the window but it couldn't cut through her terror of the dark. She bit her lip, choking back a sob as she looked towards the door he'd disappeared through, willing him to come back.

When he didn't appear, Khushi counted to a hundred, then two hundred, and then five hundred, but nothing helped. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her parents climb into a car, never to return. She heard her mother's screams with every breath she took.

Devi Maiyya, please protect me. Protect me, Devi Maiyya.

A soft scratching at the window disturbed the silence, causing Khushi's racing heart to pound almost painfully in her chest.

There's nothing there, she tried to reassure herself, it's just the wind or a branch.

But it was futile. Her mind conjured up one terrifying image after another to accompany the sound. A burglar trying to break into the room. A murderer looking for their next victim.

Unable to stand it any longer, Khushi scrambled up from the couch and tiptoed to the door that led to the bedroom. Gathering her courage and asking Devi Maiyaa for strength, she knocked softly on the door. There was no response.

"Arnav-ji?" she called tentatively, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

There was a howl as the wind picked up, slamming a shutter against one of the windows and startling her so much that she jumped. Khushi swallowed a scream. When she caught her breath, she turned to the door and knocked again.

"Arnav-ji?"

Her voice was stronger this time but there was still no answer. She reached out and tried the handle, but was unsurprised to find that he'd locked it in his anger. A sob escaped her as she walked back to her couch, resigned to a sleepless night with only the ghosts of her parents for company. Her borrowed – stolen, a voice in her mind corrected – bridal get-up wasn't a match for the cold, biting air inside this cramped apartment behind the dhaba. Khushi shivered, wishing for a blanket.

Her vision blurred with tears as she thought of Arnav-ji's last words to her.

"I don't care where you go or what you do. I don't give a damn."

The money he'd slammed down sat untouched on the small table. He was punishing her for a crime she didn't understand. Yes, she'd tricked him, but it was only so that he'd stay with her. She needed to take care of him – he'd fainted earlier in the day because of low blood sugar, and then pushed the car so far before one of the tyres had punctured. And he'd refused to eat at the dhaba, saying that he disliked oily and spicy foods.

Khushi curled herself into the couch, grateful for the distraction that Arnav-ji was providing her, even in his absence. She understood his fury that she'd dared to tamper with his car, siphoning the fuel so that he couldn't reach Nainital in time for his conference. But she'd only done it for Lavanya-ji, who'd been upset that they wouldn't get to spend time together. Only ...

Only Lavanya-ji hadn't accompanied him and Khushi had gotten stuck inside the trunk of his car. These things could only happen to her, she knew ... normal people didn't get trapped in cars.

Hai Devi Maiyya, if I had to get stuck in a car, why did it have to be his car? This man who frazzles my thoughts and makes my pulse race, who can scare me and comfort me in the same breath?

A door slammed somewhere, the sound loud in the silence. Khushi screamed before she could stop herself.

"Khushi?"

Relief, sweet and cool, spread throughout her body at the sound of his voice. She heard him moving around in the other room, and then he was there, opening the door and striding towards her, fury etched into his features.

"What the hell? Why can't you be silent? Let me sleep."