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This part is very big to write. So i had to cut it into two parts. The first part [4(a)] is on Arnav meeting his di, Anjali. The second part will be on Arnav and Khushi. Hope you will enjoy!

Thank you so much guys for reading and commenting in this story. I loved and replied to your comments also. Let me know what you felt through your comments.

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Part 4(a)

Banner credit:: Nisha Shetty (Thank you so much!)

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Arnav entered into the Raizada’s area.He clearly remembers the garden they created the house. His mother, Kavya Singh Raizada was fond of gardening; and this was before inherited by her son Arnav. 

Maybe, It was the only place where she could breath, Arnav thought. He chocked with emotion… the small rose tree they planted together is now a big shrub, the jasmine tree has grown so quickly! The fragrance reminded him of his loved ones.

The loved ones he missed, but there was no way to go them.

“Amma!” He could clearly see two children running towards their mother. A girl wearing long sleeved ‘choli’ and a long skirt along it, and a boy wearing simple shirt adorned with ‘swing’ works by his mother.

“Chote!” The girl laughed with her brother, “Amma loves me the most!” She secretly winked her mother, who smiled.

“No di… mosht  me! (she loves me most!)” Little Arnav frowned.

“Me!”

“Me!”

"Me!"

“Accha accha suno to!”(Ok…ok…atleast listen to me!) Their amma laughed at her adorable children. “If someone tell you to cut any of your finger, which one will you choose?”

Arnav and Anjali were confused. Their little brain could not digest the fact who will ask them to cut finger. And which one? The one gives you less pain?

“But all fingers will give us same pain, right amma?” Anjali stated thoughtfully.

“Yes bitiya, we can’t choose any of them, because each of them are important and will give equal pain. Similarly, both of you are precious to me.

I cant choose one of you. Never.”

Arnav relived the scene playing before him. Once again he was a 5 years old kid, who was new to this world. Learning through the surroundings, through the little world around him.

Once he had a world with his amma, di, babuji, dadi ji.

And Khushi.

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!

The door opened before his face. There stood his father and his dadi ji with all the workers of the house. All ready to welcome him with flowers and sweets.

His deep caramel eyes searched for his loved ones. The people who truly loved him.

“Thari nazar to uthar doon, chora”(Let me pray for you so that you may save from black magic, son!) Dadiji smiled bright, though the smile held lot of slyness behind.

“Koi jarurat nehi.”(not needed.) His eyes held the determination, “Meri di kahan hai?” (Where is my di?) he asked to her.

“Di!” Her face was curled with frowns, “Your di will not come here. She is not permitted to come before males… specially not in scared-happy ceremony.” She said with confidence.

“accha?” (Really?) Arnav mocked. “And who is going to stop her? You? or, this man?” He shot a look at his father.

“Don’t you dare talk to your elders in that manner chote!” His father warned. His eyes spitted fire. Arnav is same stubborn and arrogant to them as before, he realized.

“I don’t have all the time in the world.” Arnav retorted.

“DI!! Di!! Come here! Your chote is waiting and will not step in till you receive him!” He shouted in the air. He knew his sister will somewhere, waiting anxiously for his return.

His dadi and father stood with all their anger and gritting teeth.

"She is a widow! She can't come here!" His father barked. But his words fell on the deaf ear.

A lean figure, draped with pure white and sky blue colored saree came into his view. Her face was hidden behind big veil. Her steps were nervous and fearful, he could see her hands trembling and fisting around the cloth-corner. She stood before him with lowered face.

“Di?” Arnav said affectionately, trying to peep into her face. But just like him, she was stubborn enough to lift the cloth and show him her face.

Sighing, he lifted his two hands and took the big cloth away from her face. His warm smile warmed his sister’s soul, after many years.

Now he looked at his father. "Widow... yes, she is a widow. But 'fortunately' she is a human being also." His words clearly said what he meant.

“Kaisi ho di?" (How are you di?) He asked eagerly. Both of them were braced with emotions, the memories of their childhood never left them. Never.

Anjali looked at him with her teary-big eyes and nodded vigorously, “Let’s go to prayer room, chote!” She look at her dadi with proud face. Her each words came true... her chote came here looking forward to his sister, not his dadi...not his father, who never loved them, never cared for them. 

They stepped into the prayer room, their mother’s prayer room. Both looked at the smiling god stood before them.

Arnav made Anjali sit on the ground, and they both clasped their hand in a prayer position.

“What will you want from your god di?” Arnav looked at her.

“Your happiness…” She smiled. “And what about you?”

“I don’t believe in her (pointing at the idol) but I have believe in you.” He spoke, protecting the scared lamp together; they secretly hope that may be everything will be alright.

“Bless me Di…” Arnav touched her feet with respect, “Bless me so that I can help you and khushi out of this hell.”

Anjali cupped her cheek. After long years she was at peace. Her heart was assured. She gently kissed his forehead and said through her tears, “My blessings will be- may devi maiya bless you to turn this hell into heaven.”

“Where is Khushi di? Why didn’t she come to me?” Arnav asked after some time. “I remember her coming behind me where ever I went. Always trying to copy me, never leaving a chance to be beside me…” He smiled fondly.

“She is not permitted to meet you on the door chote.” Anjali continued. “I will tell you the reason, but later. First you go and find her. May be she is hiding somewhere with shyness.” She giggled. “All day all night she had only one name, Arnav… Arnav and Arnav…But now he is here she is hiding out of shy!” She pressed her brother’s hands and said, “Go, chote. Your Khushi is waiting.”

Khushi meant happiness. And Arnav was looking forward to the happiness of his life.

“Khushi.” He breathed.

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I will try to update as soon as possible. Till then, do show your love!

Allah Hafiz!

Afia Zahin (Ananna123)