Changing Shades - 4

Changing Shades - Four 

But slowly, over the two years, it became evident that Manish had eyes only for his childhood friend. He spent more time with her than ever before. He still did not attend classes. That privilege belonged to Arnav and Khushi, and to them alone. But he visited her home frequently - to pick up notes, he said, and when they went out, he stayed glued to her side.

Khushi wasn't sure of her feelings. To begin with, it meant that she spent less time with Arnav, and she enjoyed his company tremendously. Then she felt she was being pushed towards something she was not ready for. She wanted to discuss it with Arnav, but surprisingly, this was one topic she felt shy about bringing up. So she just let things carry on, a little uncomfortable with Manish's attentions, but lacking the courage to bring things to a head.

Then things came to a head without her knowledge. Shortly before their final exams, Manish's parents visited Khushi's uncle 

And when she came back from college that day, she found him bustling about in great good humor.
“What's happened, chacha?” she asked, as she went into the kitchen to get their tea. “Today you seem to be very happy.”

“Yes, today I can see the end of my responsibility,” answered her uncle. 

She looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean, chacha?”

“Manish's parents came today,” he informed her happily. “They wanted to settle the dates of your engagement and marriage. We have decided for two weeks from now for the engagement, that will be just after your exams, and your marriage will have to be the week after that. Now I have a lot of work to do. Two weeks is not too long…”

“Chacha, wait a minute,” interrupted Khushi, suddenly very pale. “This is my marriage you are talking about? How come I wasn't even asked if I want to marry him?”

Her uncle looked at her in surprise. “Asked? We thought both of you wanted it! That's what Manish said! He's been in love with you for years, and you are so close to him, too. Always at home, it's Manish said this, Manish did that…”

“Yes, but I talk about all my friends,” interrupted Khushi, again. “That doesn't mean I want to marry them. Chacha, I don't want to get married right now. We are already so much in debt to them, what will people say? They have given us everything, now I walk into their house and become mistress there? Hum chhote log hain, I can't do this.”

“Hum chhote log hain, that is why you will do this,” retorted back her uncle. “They have given us everything, and do you know why? Because they have wanted this match from the beginning. They had discussed this with your parents before they died. That is why they asked me to stay here with you, so that your father's dreams of your becoming an architect could be fulfilled, and their dreams of making you their son's bride could also come true.”

“That's not true,” said Khushi, shaken. “Papa and Ma would have talked to me about it before saying anything to uncle and auntie. They may want it, but pa and ma would have said something to me.”

“That is what they wanted, child,” replied her uncle more kindly. “Maybe they did not talk about this with you. After all, you were very young then. But Mrs. Dewan has always thought of you as her daughter, and she wants you in that house. She has never made any secret of the fact. And after all, what is wrong? You have studied with him. You know him well. It is not as if I am forcing you to marry someone you don't know or don't like.”

He took her hands and pulled her to sit down with him.

“Look, my child,” he said heavily. “What you said is true. We are small people, and we have a debt of gratitude to pay these people which we can never repay in a thousand years. What they did for your parents, and then for you, you already know. What you don't know, is that that they have always given me more money than I actually should earn, on the condition that it is spent all on you. Your clothes, the college trips you took, everything was from them. We have never felt a day's difficulty, they have taken care of it all. Why do you think they were so keen for you to attend the same college, have the same friends, be part of the same group, as Manish? This was in Madam's and Sir’s minds all along. Even this house we live in, is theirs, which they have given us free. I didn't want to tell you this, but they always discouraged me from setting up my own house, from marrying anybody, so that they could keep control of you. They are big people, powerful people, and they have done all this only because Madam loves you. Now we cannot say no to them. And after all, child, like I said, you know Manish, and like him. He is a friend. A friend can always become a love. That is why I said yes straightaway. They will love you and you will have a good life there.”

Khushi could not say anything. Arnav’s words, spoken not so long ago, came back to her. “The tyranny of love,” he had said. She smiled bitterly. So true. You could argue with somebody who tried to push you around, who rode roughshod over your feelings, who shouted at you. This gentleness, this kindness was impossible to fight.

The next day was Saturday. After a restless night, she woke up feeling heavy eyed and unrefreshed. She picked at her breakfast listlessly, unable to concentrate or think about anything. After breakfast, she picked up her bag, and went out.

“Where are you going?” called out her uncle.

“I'm going to the hostel to pick up some notes,” she called back. She needed to see Arnav. Maybe his commonsense would put things back into perspective for her. 

She walked down quickly to the men's hostel, and went to Arnav's room. They all gathered here very often. She was surprised, but relieved to find none of their group around. Usually, this close to the exams, one or the other of them would be closeted with Arnav, trying to absorb half a year's lectures in half an hour! 

She knocked at the door sharply. There was no answer. She knocked again.

“He's not there,” called a voice from down the corridor. It was one of the junior students. “I'm glad you came. He left a message for you. He had to rush to Bombay, his grandfather was not well. Said for you to take notes for him, he'd be back in a week. Left a message for Manish, too, can I give it to you?”

“No,” she exclaimed, and then, again, more quietly. “I don't know when I'll see Manish. He'll probably come here sooner. Tell him yourself.”

“OK,” nodded the boy, and returned to his room.

Khushi left the hostel in despair. A week! The engagement , if it took place, was two weeks away. What if he got delayed? He often did, when he went to Bombay. This meant he would be back just in time for the exams, and her engagement would be very close ... too close.

She bumped into Priya and Sunny outside. “Hi,” said Priya “Come to find Arnav? He's gone to Bombay.”

“Yes, I just got the message,” nodded Khushi, trying hard to sound calm and casual. “Blow, I needed the last set of drawings from him. I'll have to manage on my own now. Have you guys done them?”

Sunny laughed. “We're waiting for one of you to finish them. Hurry up and do them, Khushi, the exam's not too far away. And Arnav's gone for a long spell this time. Neil said his grand dad is determined to make him a final choice of the beauties this time. He won't be allowed to come back till he's hitched up good and proper!”

Khushi and Priya looked at Sunny. “Arnav? Getting engaged?” asked Priya in surprise. “He never mentioned it to any of us. Did he say anything to you, Khushi?”

Khushi shook her head dumbly. Sunny laughed. “These are guys' matters, you girls can't expect to know everything, you know. I'll bet you won't tell us when you're getting hitched, except to invite us to the party! Arnav said the last time he went to Bombay, the old man was determined to make him settle down. He must have seen twenty girls last trip. Now he has to decide.” 

Khushi supposed she must have made the right noises, laughed at the right things. She didn't remember any of it. She said her byes, and came back home in a state of shock. How could Arnav not have told her? He called himself her friend. How could he do this? How could he think of getting married, and not tell her?

“Got your notes, Khushi?” asked her uncle, and she looked at him. He had looked after her like a father, and he was very, very fond of her. He was trying to do the best thing for her. And he was right. She did know Manish well. She could make a life with him. His parents loved her. Life would be comfortable, she would have her precious work in the family firm, and it would all be smooth sailing. 

“Yes, chacha, I did,” she said. “And, chacha…”

He looked at her as she hesitated.

“What, my child?”

“Chacha, you're quite right. About what you said yesterday, I mean. I just got a bit rattled – I'd never really thought about Manish like that. But you are right – I know him and his parents very well. If they are keen on the proposal, it's all right with me.”

Her uncle looked at her and beamed, his relief evident. He crossed over to her and took her into his arms. “I'm delighted, my child. You have made me very happy. When I die and go up to meet your parents, I will be able to look them in the face and tell them that I discharged all my responsibilities in the best possible way. You will be happy there, my dear child. They all love you very much and will take good care of you. Mr. Dewan was saying that he is already organizing two new offices, for you and Manish. Your father's dream will come true, my child. Though he would not have dreamed that you start work there as the mistress! Your parents would have been so happy to see this day!”

Tears came into the older man's eyes, and he wiped them away and released her.

“I will go at once to Sir's house and tell them that you have said yes,” he said. “They must have been expecting me yesterday itself, but I did not want to go till I had heard from your lips that you agreed to the proposal. I will go right away.”

He quickly straightened his clothes, tidied himself and left, leaving Khushi alone in the house. She went to the window and stared out unseeing. What have I done, she thought? Have I done the right thing? Damn you, Arnav, you said you were my friend, you would be here for me all the time. When the time came to make the most important decision of my life, you are nowhere around, and I learn from someone else, not from you, that you are in the process of making that decision for yourself. Without telling me? How could you, Arnav? How could you?

There was a knock on the door, and she turned round in surprise. Who could it be? Arnav? Her footsteps quickened and she ran to open the door. 

Changing Shades - 3

Chapter Three

They had all laughed, and from then on, Khushi was an accepted member of their group. They had taken her, first to the principal's office, and then to the canteen, which was where, she gathered, they spent most of their time. Up until then, she was told, the missing Arnav had been the source of the few marks they all did manage to get in the exams. Now she would have to contribute to the kitty!

“Who is Arnav, and where is he?” she asked, curiously. One of the boys, she didn't remember his name, enlightened her casually. 

“Oh, he's away in Bombay. His grandfather has a construction company, his parents are dead, and Arnav has to take care of him, and the work. He'll probably come in next week. He knows he has to take over from his grandfather fairly soon, so he's a very serious man, is our Arnav. You'll get on well with him – he's the only one of us who actually listens to the lectures! Apart from you, that is!”

She did get on well with Arnav. She got along with him almost from the beginning, and that surprised her, because she was usually far more reserved in making friends. He arrived two days later, later than most of the other students, but just in time for classes to start, and immediately it became clear who was the leader of the group. He was a natural leader, not as serious as the rest had made him out to be, but with a strong sense of fun. He was the one who thought of all their pranks, but besides, he was always at the top of their class. As Manish had said, he was the only one of their group who attended all the classes, the others spending most if their time in the canteen, and attending only the minimum necessary. As Khushi, too, attended most of the classes, this meant that they both spent a lot of time together, and the others shamelessly copied their notes, and drawings. 

Khushi grew to like Arnav tremendously. She found him very easy and somehow comfortable to be with, and slowly started talking to him far more than she did to Manish, or indeed to anyone else. He was so easy to talk to that she never realized how skillfully he drew her out of her shell and encouraged her to share her thoughts with him. With him, she let her guard down and let long suppressed feelings show through. She didn't even realize how much she revealed to him, so easily did he draw her out.

They were working together one day on a model, when she told him about her parents and Manish's family.

“My father worked for Manish's father,” she told him, her eyes soft as she remembered the gentle man who had meant the world to her. “He was just his secretary, but he was close to Uncle, and Uncle trusted him completely. One day, when I was about 7 years old, Papa told Uncle about me, and his dreams that I should, one day, become an architect like him. Uncle was very flattered and impressed that I had such plans at such a young age, while his own son, Manish, never thought beyond the next present he was going to get! So he started taking a lot of interest in me, my studies, what I was doing … all that. Manish's mother couldn't have any children after Manish, and she was very, very keen to have a daughter. She also virtually adopted me. I used to spend a lot of time in their house. Manish was just a kid in short pants when I first knew him. He used to have a tough time, because I was always top of my class, even in school, and he was always at the bottom. His parents would be after him all the time – Khushi is so smart, she works so hard, you are a duffer… I think if I'd been Manish, I would have hated me! He did, initially, I think, he hated the constant comparisons, but then we grew together, and he grew used to it. We played together quite a bit. He was an only child, so was I, and I loved going over to the big house with all the swings and the pool, and lots of goodies to eat.”

“Then what happened?” asked Arnav, as Khushi paused, lost in thought.

“Then my parents died in an accident. That shattered my world. I was about 14 years old then, and already I was very determined as to what I wanted to be. But losing them just broke me up. My father was so proud of me – he always said that he would show the world that a daughter is not just as good as, but far better than a son. When I lost them, I felt I lost my own confidence in myself, my secure, safe world just came crashing down. We didn't have any money, I was virtually on the streets. Manish's parents were wonderful to me. They took me in without a second thought, they paid all the hospital bills, looked after the formalities, and just took over my life. They wanted to adopt me. But my uncle, my father's brother, refused. He was unmarried, and I was his only relative left in the world. He wanted to take me back to our village. Manish's parents didn't want me to go, so they gave him my father's job, and the house. I continued living there and going to the same school. I've often wondered whether chacha refused to let go of me because he knew that was what they would do, or because he genuinely cared for me.”

“Why do you feel that?” asked Arnav, curiously, carefully glueing two small pieces of wood together, putting them into place on the model and stepping back to see the effect.

“Well, he never visited us before, when my parents were alive. I only knew I had an uncle because he wrote occasionally. I had met him just once a couple of years before my parents died. Anyway, I suppose I'm being a bit unfair, because he certainly took, and still does take good care of me.”

“What happened was, that after your parents died, and left you alone, you were scared to trust, or be close to anyone again, for fear they would leave you too,” remarked Arnav, perceptively. Khushi looked at him in surprise.

“How do you know, Arnav? Yes, that's exactly what has happened. I don't want to get close to anyone – I'm scared I'll be left alone again. It just hurts too much. I can still feel that sense of being completely and utterly alone and helpless ... I sometimes ...”

She stopped. How to tell Arnav that she sometimes woke up at night, drenched with sweat, panting for breath ... how to tell him about the vivid dreams that terrified her ... dreams of being crushed under the same car as her parents ... dreams where she called out incessantly to them, trapped in a dark place she did not recognise ... only to be left alone ... abandoned.
She had kept her nightmares hidden, afraid of telling anyone about them. Afraid of being called ungrateful, selfish, self-pitying. Because she had not been left alone for a single day ... not a single minute. Manish's parents had taken care of that. Yet the fear of being left alone, abandoned, never quite left her.

Arnav was speaking, and she dragged her attention back to what he was saying. He spoke seriously, but almost detachedly, his attention on the wooden pieces they were working on.

“I know because the same thing happened to me, too,” said Arnav. “I was much younger when I lost my parents, only six years old. I hardly remember them. Only, I was luckier than you were. I was already living with my grandparents when my parents died, so there was no major upheaval for me. I continued in the same house, with at least some of the same people, and never had to depend on somebody who was a total stranger. So I didn't lose my sense of security, as you did. Though losing your parents is the worst loss, since I was younger, I don't remember them so clearly, and my grandparents have always been there for me. In fact, they used to look after me as my parents were both working, so they were closer to me than mom and dad were.” 

“You are lucky, then,” said Khushi quietly. Arnav looked at her.

“Lucky? Not to have any memories? I don’t think so, Khushi.”

He looked at her for a long moment, and she looked back, lost in the intensity of his gaze. Then her eyes dropped.

“No,” she agreed, in a small voice. “No … you’re right, Arnav. I’m glad I have the memories at least. I’m sorry.”

He smiled and touched her cheek with a gentle finger.

“But, Khushi, memories aren’t enough, you know. I know it hurts to lose those you love, but that doesn’t mean you can shut yourself away and not get close to anyone again. You can't go through life like that. You can't lock yourself up in a little ivory tower, and say, I have no friends, because I'm scared of losing them. Life doesn't work like that, Khushi. You have to take the risk of getting close to people, because it's people who make up the world. You want to make yourself a little house, with your own things, and say to yourself, this is mine, I can never lose it, but till you have people in that house of yours, it won't be a home. You won't have a world of your own, only things, which become meaningless after some time, if there is no one to share them with.” 

“It's not just that, Arnav,” said Khushi, hesitating. He looked at her. 

“What is it, then?”

“I don't know. I've never said this to anyone before, and I don't know if I can make you understand.”

“Try me,” he said quietly. She looked up into his reassuring face, and took a deep breath.

“When my parents were alive,” she said softly, “My dreams were our dreams. What I wanted to do in life was something we all talked about together, discussed, fought about also, …” she laughed softly, but continued strongly, “… tore to shreds together, but did it together. I was never just told what to do. My opinion was important. My feelings mattered. Not only mattered, they were of the utmost importance. I was never just ordered around, like other children, or taken for granted. Even when we used to talk about marriage, my father used to say, I'll find her a prince, and my mother used to correct him, you won’t find, Khushi will find. Khushi will marry someone she loves. She will never do anything she doesn't want to do. And then my father would agree, and tease me – child, you'll let us know when you find somebody, won't you? But since they died, and Manish's parents and my uncle took over my life, it has been just that. They have taken over. What I want, what I feel ... all that is not important any more. They tell me what to do and I am to do it. Oh, it's all done lovingly from uncle and auntie, and no outward sense of being forced. And they are wonderful people. They have done a lot for me, and I genuinely admire them tremendously. But they always get their way. And my uncle is so crushed with gratitude towards them, that if ever I think of going against what they say, he looks at me with horror. Like, how can you even think of not doing what they ask. You owe them everything! I can't take my own decisions any more. It's as though I'm on a giant roller coaster, and I'm just going on and on, and I can't get off, no matter how much I try.”

“Are you unhappy about something specific?” he asked. His brown eyes were serious as they rested on her pensive face, but Khushi didn't notice, her own gaze lowered to the floor, as she struggled to voice thoughts that she had barely put into words in her own mind.

“Not really,” she answered. “That's why it's difficult for myself to understand why I feel like this. I'm not doing anything I don't want to. But I just get the feeling I'm being pushed all the time!"

She looked up at him suddenly, and was surprised at the intent look on his face. His gaze was fixed on her, and for a moment, she felt breathless. And he seemed to feel the same way ... their eyes met and caught, his were deep, unfathomable, a strange light in the molten caramel depths. 

Then he shook his head slightly, and she stepped back, suddenly aware that they were standing very close together. She struggled to gather her thoughts, to remember what she had been saying.

She looked away, and then back at Arnav, her eyes dark. "I'm being ungrateful, I know. You can say so, Arnav. Tell me I'm crazy to feel like this!”

He shook his head, and his eyes were warm with understanding and sympathy. And something ... more?

“The tyranny of love,” he said softly. “We come up against it all the time. I do understand, Khushi. I want to go abroad to study. But every time I mention the possibility, my grandparents start crying and getting all emotional. I know exactly how you feel, Khushi. And let me tell you one thing. It's far more difficult to fight tears and love than it is to fight hostility. You land up doing just what you don't want to do.”

She smiled, relieved that he understood - and he looked at her suddenly.

“Tell me, Khushi. You didn't want to come here, did you? To this college, I mean?”

She looked at him and laughed aloud. “You do understand!" she said. "No, I didn't. I felt…”

“Yes, I understand, and I know exactly how you felt,” he said forcefully. “Manish's father pulled some strings, did he?”

She nodded. “He knew I would not accept money from them to pay my fees, so he organized that I get the scholarship. And then of course, Chacha was all over me – he has done so much for you, how can you refuse him, blah, blah, blah. So here I came. I don't belong here. All the kids are from rich families, they all have their own businesses to run when they finish from here, whereas I go job-hunting.”

“That, too, Manish's family firm…” began Arnav, and Khushi interrupted him hotly.

“NO! I will not. I have to break away sometime! Don't you see, Arnav, I'm getting suffocated.”

“You have to decide that,” replied Arnav seriously. He lifted a finger and stroked her cheek gently, as though he couldn't help himself, and Khushi tried to suppress the small shiver that went through her at his touch. His eyes were warm again as he looked at her.

 “But one thing, Khushi ... about not belonging here. You know that’s not true. Most of the guys here will be happy to accept you on your own steam. Stop thinking of them as rich kids. Think of them as students ... and you are better than quite a few. Offer to help them out if they want , and you will be surprised at how quickly they accept you. There's such a thing as being too sensitive, you know. Agreed, some of them have their noses in the air, but some are very nice. You know Manish doesn't think like that at all, neither do I. Well, there are more like us. Find them!”

Khushi laughed, her mood lightening. And she took his advice, and found to her surprise, that he was right. She did make very good friends, their genuine appreciation and liking winning her over. She was soon a part of their group, which included Arnav, Manish, Priya (who was quite likeable after her first remarks!) and three others, Sunny, Neil and Shreya. The seven of them stayed together through college, working together and (much more often) playing together.

Changing Shades - 2

Chapter Two 

Both girls looked up, Khushi's laughter dying away. She looked at Arnav, and he saw the expression on her face change from laughter, to incredulous recognition. The beginning of a smile started slowly on her face, and was chased away almost immediately by the grimness on his face, the unsmiling eyes looking straight at her. And she knew that he had not forgotten, or forgiven … anything. 

The 'old man' bustled forward cheerfully, oblivious to the tension between Arnav and Khushi. "Well, Arnav," he announced cheerfully, "this is my small office and my small staff. But don't let the size deceive you. As I told you, we have six projects currently on line, and the four of us manage them very well indeed. We also have about half a dozen more proposals, and like I said earlier, I am in the fortunate position of being able to choose what I want to do. This is Lavanya, my secretary and personal assistant – she will work with you as well, unless you want to bring in your own secretary. She will continue to be mine, as she knows better than I do, where to find what in this place."

Lavanya smiled at Arnav nervously, and he smiled back warmly, the charm of that smile banishing her nervousness.
“I'm sure I will find Lavanya invaluable, Mr. Suri,” he said easily. “It will take me some time to find my feet in this place, and I will need her help.”

Lavanya smiled again, this time more easily. “It would be a pleasure, Mr. Raizada,” she said. “I'll try my best to make you familiar with the place quickly.”

“Please, call me Arnav,” he said, looking into Lavanya's eyes and Khushi could see Lavanya melting. Mr. Suri, a stickler for correctness couldn't quite believe what was happening in his office – Lavanya, or for that matter, any of the other staff, had never, ever called him by his name. They didn't even know what it was! He quickly took over the introductions again. 

“This is Suresh, our clerical cum odd job man,” he said, and the young boy put out his hand nervously for the new boss to shake. This was Suresh's first job. He was a quiet, sincere boy, who did what he was asked to do, and a lot more. He had a widowed mother, and a young brother whom he was putting through school, and he worked like a horse, anxious to prove himself, both to his boss, and to his mother.

Arnav shook his hand firmly.
“Mr. Suri has told me about you,” he said, “all good things, I'm glad to say. I look forward to working with you.”

Suresh couldn't quite believe his ears. Work with the boss?! He worked for the big boss, and did what he was told to do. He made up his mind immediately that he was going to like this man, no matter what.

Mr. Suri then turned to Khushi. 

“This is the only other architect I employ,” he said, beaming at her, “and believe me, she is …”

“Hello, Khushi,” interrupted Arnav. "It's good to see you again, after how many years is it? Four? Five?”

“Hello, Arnav,” Khushi answered evenly, well aware of the old man's open mouth, Lavanya's popping eyes and Suresh's evident shock. “It's good to see you too.”

Arnav turned to Mr. Suri. “Khushi and I are old class mates from architecture school. Old friends … and rivals. It was always a toss up between us as to who would have the best designs. She got the best man all right, though, didn't you, Khushi? I'm surprised to see you working here, and not in the family firm. Too much nepotism, was it?”

Khushi bit her lip to keep from retorting back in kind. So this was how he was going to play it. Outwardly pleasant, but barbs all the way. She forced herself to reply pleasantly. “Something like that, I suppose. I like it here.”

Arnav gave her a long look, and then turned back to Mr. Suri. “Sir, I'm happy with your setup. I don't propose to make any changes as of now. I may bring in a few more people slowly, but we'll see how it goes first. With your approval, of course, as you will be here for some time to come.”

Mr. Suri beamed again. “Of course, of course. I'm so glad you know Khushi. College friends? That is very good. So I don't have to say anything about her work, of course. You already know how good she is. You will be working with her very closely on some of the new projects. I'm too old for field work now, so she takes care of it. You will want to visit some of the sites with her. Good, good, that's very good, that you know her.”

Positively purring with delight, the old man led Arnav back into his office. He obviously had not picked up any part of the tension at all. They entered the inner domain, and the old man poked his head out to call Lavanya.

“Lavanya, organize a desk and chair for Arnav in here, will you. And another drafting desk outside for him – Khushi can manage that one, next to hers. He will need one for his own plans.”
“Right, sir,” replied Lavanya, promptly. Then she looked at Khushi, who had been standing like stone since the two men left. She didn't say anything, but busied herself on the phone, getting the extra furniture organized.

“Suresh, go down to the warehouse, and pick up the stuff sir has asked for,” she directed him, and the boy left. Then Lavanya looked at Khushi again, who had sat down and was apparently busying herself in some drafts.

“OK,” Lavnaya said directly. “Spill, Khushi Gupta. What gives?”

Khushi looked at her blankly, and for a moment, it seemed that she had not heard a word Lavanya had said. Then she visibly pulled herself together. “Lavs, what do you mean?”

Lavanya laughed scornfully. “Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, sweetheart. What gives? What is between you and that extremely handsome hunk who is our new boss? The air between you two was so thick, you could cut it with a knife! Old college friends indeed! He's more than that, isn't he? Is he an old boyfriend, or what?”

Khushi gave a half smile that turned into a look of despair. “Almost,” she said and looked at Lavanya directly. “You're not going to believe this. I turned him down.”

Lavanya sat down with a thump.

“You're right,” she said briefly. “I don't – believe you, I mean. Turned down that hunk? For Manish? Were you whacko? And he’s still mad at you about that? Come on, Khushi. There's more to this than just that. Spill the beans.”

Khushi sighed.

“You're right,” she said. “There is. I will tell you, Lavanya. Soon. But not right now. Just let me get my equilibrium back. Seeing him after so many years – it was a shock. I need to get over that one.”

“So get over it, and tell me,” commanded Lavanya. “Come on, Khushi, I'm dying to know! What happened?”

Khushi looked at her pleadingly.

“Not today,” she said. “Please, Lavs, give me time. This really has been a shock. It was …not pleasant, what happened.”

“That much I could tell,” retorted Lavanya. “His eyes said a lot. OK, Khushi. Take your time. But you have to spill the beans. And soon.”

Khushi said nothing. She got back to her work – or tried to. Her mind was anywhere but on her drawings. All she could see was Arnav's face, looking at her, so close to her own, pleading with her, his lips almost touching hers, their breaths mingling…

I thought I’d forgotten, she thought despairingly, staring blindly at her drawing board. Oh god, I thought I’d managed to forget him, forget us. But I was just fooling myself. I haven’t forgotten anything. Nothing at all. Oh god, why did it have to be him?! Why did he come here, why did he choose this firm … out of all he could have chosen?! Why him … why me?!

She put her drawings aside with a jerk, and stood up. “I'm going to the site,” she told Lavanya. “I'm not accomplishing much here. Be back in an hour, if the old man asks. Tell him I've gone to check …I don't know…oh, the drainage or something.”

“Right,” said Lavanya quietly, and watched the other girl as she went out. Her brows knitted. It was not like Khushi to be so… distracted. Normally, she got down to her work with a vengeance, using it to forget about everything else, not to think about anything outside her drawings, her plans and her houses. The fact that she could not use her work to forget about Arnav Singh Raizada meant that he meant a lot to her. More than even her husband? Lavanya wondered, then gave up. Khushi would tell her when she was ready to, not before. She had not told Lavanya about Manish for almost 6 months when she had first started work. It was as though she could not trust anyone with her pain, though her smiles she distributed freely. 

In the meantime, Khushi drove down to the site where they were building a large block of flats. She had designed them almost completely, with very little input from the old man, and the sight of the building, her first major solo project, normally gave her a great deal of pleasure. But not today. The sight of Arnav Singh Raizada had wiped away the pleasure, and brought back all the old memories, some of them pleasant, but most of them painful.

What lovely days they had been. They had all been in college together, she, Arnav, Manish, and a whole group of friends, and they all had had a great time together. Initially she had hung back, conscious of being much less well off than the rest of them, all from similar upper crust colleges and schools, while she was there because she had won a scholarship to cover her tuition fees. But they had made her feel like one of them, had admired her because she was top of their class and she had very soon become a part of their group.

She still remembered her first day at college. She had entered rather nervously, looking for the principal's office, and had been obviously lost when Manish saw her and yelled out to her.
"Hey, there, stranger! Over here!"

Her eyes lit up on seeing a familiar face and she went over to the group of four, two girls and two boys. Arnav had not been there.

"Hi, Manish."

"Dad told me you would be in today," said Manish. “I was on the lookout for you. I've been given strict instructions to look after you. Hey, guys, this is Khushi. Our new class fellow and partner in the torture chamber. Though she may not find it as much torture as we do. She's here on a scholarship, so beware. She actually likes to work!”

“Scholarship?” asked one of the other girls disdainfully. “I didn't know that the Dayanand School of Architecture had any scholarships at all. We all paid for our seats, and paid a lot, too.”

Khushi flushed. She knew the college was an upper crust one, and the only reason she was able to afford it was that her tuition was taken care of by her scholarship. But she had not expected to find scorn among her fellow students for that reason. Fortunately, Manish saved her having to reply.

“Here, lemme explain, Priya,” he said kindly. “See, it's like this. The big guns of architecture … like your dad and my dad ... have to pay for our seats so they can get someone to take over their great companies, and the college admin has to give us those seats so they can get the money to run this place. But this place needs to turn out some real architects too, otherwise, money or no money, the place would shut down. I mean, either people have money and their kids have no brains, or they have no money and their kids have brains. God tends to even out the scores, to save the moneyed ones getting too swollen headed. I mean, just look at the one mistake he made by giving Arnav both! He can't afford to repeat it, so he balances the rest of us with people like Khushi. Khushi, I'm already booking first right to any notes you make. You know I don't attend too many lectures!”

Khushi smiled, and one of the boys piped up.

“Hey Manish, how do you know Khushi? You seem to know all the beautiful girls on campus, not fair, I say! And how do you know she's got brains as well?”

“Duffer,” said Manish, laughing. “Scholarship mili hai, to brains to honge hi na? As for how I know, well, I've known Khushi since she was 7 years old. She used to come over to our place all the time, and she made my childhood heaven and hell at the same time. I'd keep complaining to mom – Khushi's eating my chocolates, she's on my swing, she's playing with my toys ... and Mom used to say – she's come first in class again. When you come first, or even do half as well as her, I'll listen to your complaints. Not before. That was it. And that was always it, because I never did as well as her!”

“So she's been like a sister around all the time, has she,” said Priya, and she looked at Khushi a little more kindly.

Manish pulled Khushi close, and very deliberately put his arm around her. Then he looked at Priya.

“Priya, do you think I'm mad? Since when have I started adopting beautiful girls as my sisters? No sister business here please. Khushi is my friend. Very definitely ... my friend.”

Changing Shades - 1

Principal characters

Khushi Gupta (Sanaya Irani) 

Manish Dewan (Vishal Gandhi)


Lavanya Kashyap (Sana Khan)


Arnav Singh Raizada




Chapter One

Lavanya came over to Khushi's desk. "Heard the news?"

Khushi looked up from her drawing board quickly. "What? He's coming?"

Lavanya nodded. “Just heard from the old man.” This was the disrespectful way they referred to their old boss, the head of the small architect firm in which Lavanya was secretary to the old man, and Khushi, a young architect on her first job. 

Being similar of age, they had fast become good friends. Lavanya had been working in the firm since graduating from her secretarial course 2 years ago, the 'old man' being a friend of her father's, and Khushi had joined a year later, after her own problems began and she needed to stand on her feet. They enjoyed their work. The firm was small, the work pressure manageable, and the 'old man' a good and fair boss. They had a good amount of work, and as their boss was not too ambitious, the atmosphere was friendly and very comfortable. He did not compromise on quality, and as a result, the work they had was of a very high standard. But he was choosy, and never took on too many projects, although they had clients queuing outside his office, and this maintained the cosy, informal atmosphere of the place.

But there were changes on the way. The 'old man' had been told to slow down. His heart was giving way. He was unmarried, and had nobody to turn over the business to, nobody to delegate to. Khushi was the only other architect in the office. He had given her the job after his first attack of angina, the first time he had another architect in his domain. But she was too junior to take over the place completely, or to delegate everything to. Hence, he had announced, about a month ago, that he had asked another architect, the head of a small but upcoming firm in Bombay, to visit on a regular basis, with a view to taking over the firm eventually. This other man was young, but headed a very successful firm of his own, and was interested in expanding his own business. 

The 'old man' stressed to Khushi that she would not be sacked – that was a precondition of the collaboration, as he termed it. Both Khushi and Lavanya knew differently, of course. It was only a matter of time, before the collaboration became a takeover. And both were worried about their jobs, Khushi more than Lavanya, as Lavanya well knew. For Lavanya, this was just a job. She had a home and supportive family to back her up. Her family was not affluent, and she worked to supplement the family income, but she could afford to take a break while looking for another job, and besides, secretarial jobs were not difficult to find with a good resume and recommendation, which 'the old man' would be happy to provide.

But for Khushi, it was different. This job was a necessity, her only source of income, for her as well as for the two people who were dependent on her. 'The old man' knew that, and hence his reassurance. But for how long would that condition survive? It all depended on this new man, and what he decided. 

Now the new man – 'young prince' or ‘rajkumar’, as Lavanya had immediately and irreverently dubbed him, was expected any day, and according to Lavanya, that day seemed to have arrived.

“When?” Khushi asked, a shade nervously. “Today? Tomorrow?”

“Today, I think. He's on the way,” said Lavanya, her own face mirroring her nervousness too. “The old man is talking to him on the phone. I heard the 'old man' ask him what time. Maybe later this morning. Get your drawings into apple pie order. I'd better tidy up my desk. God, what a mess. Why did the 'old man' have to go and get angina? This place was so nice! Now everything will change.”

“Maybe not,” said Khushi hopefully. “Maybe he just wants a foothold here, and will let things run the old way for a time. After all, the 'old man' isn't retiring yet. He's going to run the shop for a while.”

Lavanya nodded and moved to her own desk, but neither of them were convinced. Both knew in their hearts that things were going to change, and in a big way.

 How big, neither of them ever envisaged.

The 'old man' appeared at the door of his room. He looked at both the girls, one busy with her drawings, and the other with her correspondence. Both were working with complete concentration and did not notice him. They were good girls, he thought, and very good workers. Lavanya ran his office like a dynamo, an excellent and extremely efficient secretary. And Khushi ...

He sighed as he looked at Khushi. She had gone through so much in her personal life, especially in the last few years, more than most people went through in their lifetime. He knew only too well why she worked so hard. The office was a sanctum for her, where she spent the maximum possible waking time, going home only to sleep. She had no social life, no friends apart from Lavanya – she kept to herself, surrounded by the protective cocoon she had built up around her, scared to venture out, scared that she would get hurt again. Her whole being was concentrated in her work, her drawings, her plans. She made plans for beautiful houses for other people, but did not have a place she could call her own home. 

The 'old man' sighed again, and then straightened, his face firming. Khushi had come in at a time when he had needed help. She had needed it too, but she had done far more than was required of her, and he was determined that she would not suffer in the deal he was about to make.

He cleared his throat loudly and both girls looked up.

“Ahem, girls,” he said. “Mr. Raizada will be coming in an hour. Please make sure you are both ready and up to date with all your work. But both of you, remember this. You are part of this office, as I am. I'm not kicking the bucket yet, and till I do, neither of you leaves here, unless of your own free will. So you don't have to be worried about anything. That is one of the conditions of this take over.”

“Takeover?” Khushi asked sharply. “Sir, are you…is he taking over the place? Will you not own the firm any more?”

He looked at her kindly. "No, Khushi, I don't mean that. We are going into partnership, but I will still hold controlling rights. I have insisted on that for the time being. I want you both to have time to decide whether you want to work with the new management or not. Things are going to change, I warn you. He is a young man, more ambitious than I ever was, and he will not be content with this small operation for very long, when he sees how much more we can do, with all our contacts and goodwill. But this is goodwill that I have built up, contacts that I have nurtured. He cannot and will not walk in and take them over till I know how he is treating my staff, who has helped for so long."

He looked at the worried faces of the two girls, and sighed. He came further into the room, and sat down comfortably on a stool at the drawing table. Khushi and Lavanya stared him worriedly. This was the first time the 'old man' had mentioned the word 'takeover', and their faces showed their tension. 

The 'old man' spoke reassuringly, his eyes looking directly at the girls in turn. "Listen, Khushi, Lavanya. This office has been my life, and it will continue to be so. I am alone – I have no wife, no children. This office is all I have. I am not interested in money, never have been. I only ever wanted a place where I could do things my way, and show that one can live very well, without being greedy, and do good work. I have done that. If I had children, a family, somebody to grow this place for, things may have been different. But I am quite content with the way things are, and now that the time has come for me to enjoy the fruits of my work, I can retire quite happily. You both and Suresh are the only people I can call my own, and I promise you, that before I go anywhere, I will make sure that you all are doing well. I have to stop work for some time – my doctor is very clear about that. But I will make sure you are settled before I go.”

Khushi and Lavanya listened with growing disquiet. This did not sound like the old man was going to carry on for too long, and that was not good news at all. He smiled at them and they both smiled back, but it took an effort, one that he was aware of, but could do nothing about. He walked back into his office with a heavy step, leaving them to continue with their work.

Khushi and Lavanya looked at each other cautiously.
“What do you think?” asked Lavanya.

Khushi spoke carefully. “Let's see, Lavs. Let's not be too hasty. Maybe things will work out all right. After all, this place runs well. We have good projects on hand. All the present plans have been approved already. From what the 'old man' said, seems to me that what we can really expect is expansion. If the ‘rajkumar’ wants to expand this place, stands to reason he won't get rid of us – rather, he should want to get in more people. Unless he doesn't like our faces, of course. That we can't do anything about!”

Lavanya laughed unwillingly, as she got up from her chair with a sigh. “If he's young, and doesn't like our faces, it will be because he is married, and his wife doesn't want two such gorgeous creatures tempting her husband. Unattached ones, that too! Sheer dynamite! Is he married, by the way?” 

“No idea,” answered Khushi, smiling back at the other girl’s nonsense. “But as for unattached, I'm not unattached, remember? You seem to be forgetting that very conveniently!”

“You are almost unattached,” scoffed Lavanya. “Or soon will be, at any rate. That thing you call a husband has been nowhere on the scene for the last two years, and you can get your divorce uncontested. If you want to, that is. I personally don't know why you're hesitating at all.”

Khushi paused, the smile fading from her face as it became shadowed. “It's not so easy, Lavs,' she said slowly. 'Divorce is somehow such a final break. I keep feeling that if I could do something more to help him, maybe he would come back … Maybe I haven't done enough, tried hard enough…”

“Have your in-laws been getting to you again?' asked Lavanya shrewdly. 'I think you’ve done more than enough, not just for him, but for them as well. They seem to be taking you for granted now. Everything you earn, you give them. Everything they need, they want, is organised ... all the bills are paid ...and they don’t even ask how you manage … do they even know …?”

“Enough!” Khushi held up her hand, laughing as the other girl started getting swept away on the tide of her annoyance. “I’m really not such a martyr as you make me out to be, you know. They have been very good to me, Angel. Anyway, that is beside the point. How did we start talking about Manish anyway?”

“You did,” retorted Lavanya. “Claiming you're not unattached! If you'd take my advice, if the rajkumar is good-looking and single, make a bid for him! Young, up and coming, already has his own business. Sounds excellent. I know I'll have a jolly good try!”

Khushi started laughing again, this time without any shadows in her face. And that was the first glimpse that the new boss got of her, when the 'old man' opened the door of the office, to introduce him to his new staff.