Arshi FF Set Me Ablaze – Chapter 1 – Sheesh Mahal
Arshi FF | IPKKND| Arnav Singh Raizada| Khushi Kumari Gupta
Fifteen years since that tragic night, as Arnav Singh Raizada stood outside the doors of the Sheesh Mahal, with the harrowing events of his past came back to haunt him.
He had been a Arnav Malik in his previous life. But after his father’s betrayal, he’d sworn to never ever use that name again.
He was his mother’s son now, and would forever remain her loving Chotey.
“Chotey.” Her sweet voice called to him.
With tears scalding his eyes, he snapped his head to his side, towards where their favourite rose garden was. It was no longer a garden, but a parking area for the Heritage hotel that their ancestral family home had been turned into.
Yet, he could see her, standing there, with the dupatta of her rich banarasi saree balanced on her head, her hands laden with tinkling rows of gold and red bangles, her forehead shining with a bindi and her parting glittering with her sindoor.
But it was her smile he’d missed the most.
“Maa.” A sob escaped his lips as he put his hand out, wanting to clutch onto the image playing before him.
But like always it was gone, and all that was left was a hollow within heart, a hollow so deep, it had eaten away his soul too. Never to be filled again.
His phone rang in tandem. Sniffling back he clicked it and choked. “Di.” She was the only tiny beacon of light in his life. His darling older sister, Anjali, who thankfully was the spitting image of his mother. She had inherited her smile, along with her kindness too.
Yet, life had been unkind to her. Her wedding had been called off that night. And later they’d been ousted out of their home and left to rot on the streets.
Had it not been for his mother’s family, they would have ended up scavenging the streets of Lucknow for the rest of their lives.
“Chotey.” His sister’s voice sounded concerned, but he heard her sniffle back her tears. “I told you not to go.”
She was the only person who knew him inside out. He wore a mask of indifference before everyone. Everyone but her.
“I had to. For Maa. For you.” He muffled back his sobs.
“Oh! Chotey.” He heard Anjali break into a sob.
“I’m at the entrance. She’s everywhere. You’re everywhere.” And so was he, the carefree Arnav Malik whom he had lost lost fifteen years ago.
“Di.” He collapsed on the stairs and wept. “How am I meant to go inside?”
“Don’t go. Come back,” she begged. “We don’t need it.”
But he clenched his eyes and swallowed his tears. He had come this far with a purpose. He couldn’t retreat now.
Revenge was what had driven him to the gates of the Mansion. He was here to snatch what was rightfully his.
Wiping his eyes, he gathered himself and wore his sunglasses. “Gotta go, Di. Will see you with the papers later?”
“Chote..” But he ended the phone even before his sister could protest.
“Bhai.” His cousin Akash met him as soon as he stepped into the foyer with the resolve of titanium, his mask was back in place, his eyes cold and calculating like always. He was a man on a mission. He was here to ruin his uncle, his father’s brother, who had rendered him and his sister homeless the night their parents had killed themselves.
“Are we ready?” His hawk like sharp eyes glanced at Akash and the lawyer beside him. While the lawyer felt a shiver, Akash gave him a smile back. Akash and he were close, so close he was perhaps the only person other than Anjali who’d seen the true face of the loving caring man he hid behind the cold facade of a heartless cruel businessman.
“The paperwork is ready sir.” The lawyer gulped back.
Arnav glanced towards the boardroom, and gave a single nod. It was time to settle old scores.
Ten minutes later as he sat across from the weathered old man, who still wore his cruel stare and his evil grin like second skin, he couldn’t help the bile from rising in his gut.
His father’s face had slapped him right across his face as he’d come face-to-face with Arvind Malik, his uncle from his previous life, the uncle who’d heartlessly ousted him from his own home even before his father’s soul had left his body.
He couldn’t believe how uncannily identical his uncle was to his father. And he was thankful he hadn’t inherited any of those evil features. Or perhaps he had. Those eyes. Those cruel, cold eyes, he’d seen those eyes glare back at him every morning in the mirror.
Those were the eyes of his father, his uncle too….and now he couldn’t help carry it everywhere he went.
He closed his eyes and sighed.
The deal was simple, it was straightforward. Arvind was steeped in debt. He had finally mortgaged the Mahal too.
This was an opportunity that had worked in Arnav’s favour. The place was worth crores, but he’d struck a deal with the creditor who had agreed to offer him the place for an extra twenty-percent cut over the value of the debt owed by Arvind.
But he was no Arnav Singh Raizada for no reason. He was a hard negotiator. One to be reckoned with.
He knew how to break people down. How to tap into their weaknesses and use it for his own advantage. And he was willing to go to any lengths to gain back his palatial Mansion— the Sheesh Mahal. Badgering the debt collector till he relented had been a walk in the park.
“Raizada saab, you cannot do this to me. Where will I go?.”
An evil smirk kissed one corner of his mouth and his heart felt soothed when his wicked uncle joined his hands and pleaded with him for mercy.
“Chacha, please don’t do this to us Where will we go?” His own sobs and pleas echoed in his head. He was breathing heavily now as that cold rainy night came back to haunt him. The night when Anjali and he had lost everything.
He wanted to punch the man. He wanted to spit in his face and remind him of his place.
But he was Arnav Singh Raizada. He was above all that. He was cunning. He was cruel. But above all. He was cold-hearted.
“Go sleep on the pavement.” His uncle’s sleazy voice came back to him. “Or better get you sister to sleep around so you can have somewhere to sleep.”
Arnav clenched his fists painfully tight at the memory of those heartless words. It wasn’t for the property. Or for the having been thrown out of his own house. But it was to avenge those words the filthy man had hurled towards his sister that he’d finally returned.
Without an ounce of mercy in his heart, he kept his gaze on the sobbing man as he gave the debt collector a nod and began signing the relevant paperwork.
“No, no, please don’t do this to me. Main Barbaad ho jaaongaa…I’ll be ruined.” The old man now fell to his feet and wept his heart out.
Arnav took in a deep breath. It felt so good. He wanted to kick him in the face. But he wasn’t in a mood to ruin his Louis Vuitton dress shoes. Besides the man was not worth his time.
He scribbled his signatures and shook hands with the debt collector. “The haveli is yours sir.” The lawyer forced a smile, while glancing in pity at the man sobbing at Arnav’s feet.
“Pleasure doing business with you.” Smirking, he slipped back his mont blanc in the inner flap of his perfectly tailored Armani jacket and got up to his feet.
“Raizada saab, please, please show me some mercy.” The man grabbed his feet and pleaded. “Where will I go? I don’t even have a roof to sleep under.”
“You can always sleep out on the pavement.” He glanced around and looked the man in the eye with malice. “Hain na, Chacha?”
Malik stilled for a moment, his gaze began scanning the face of the smirking man before him. “Ar…Arnav…cho…chotey?” he struggled to find his voice.
“Akash, get him thrown out on the streets.” Arnav buttoned his jacket in place. “I want this place cleared of all filth.”
And while his uncle howled and begged for mercy, two of his bodyguards forced him to his feet, while a smug faced Arnav glided towards the door and out onto the lobby of his mansion with the power of a lion but the grace of a gazelle.
He had fulfilled his purpose. He should have felt truimph.
Yet, as his feet moved through the corridor, his strides slowed, his eyes welled.
The memories of the past flashed again. The soulful shenai in the air. His sister’s giggles as she got dressed for her wedding. And amidst the mayhem, the soul-shattering gunshot. And his mother’s blood curdling scream.
The fire was roaring again in his heart.
Would it ever cool? Trembling he stood in front an antique intricately carved teak door.
It was the door to the room where it had all happened.
Today, he’d finally look his past in the eye. Today, perhaps his nightmares would finally find their solace.
Yet, when he opened the door to the room that was his father’s study, he felt a gust of wind punch him in his gut, knocking all the air out of his lungs.
He was back to that night, the sight of his mother’s blood drenched limp body lay on the floor, and right beside her, clutching her hand, his father too lay, with his brains blown to bits. The bullet had gone through his jaw and out of his skull.
Arnav shivered, the grotesque images haunting him all over again.
Shivering, he slowly stumbled inside, just like he had all those years ago. The room was a bedroom now. Yet, all he saw was the antique dark wood table adorning the centre of the room, the musky pungent odour of the expensive cigars his father smoked, the sweet smell of ittar lingered in the air, his mother lay on the floor covered in her own blood, and his father in the guilt of what he’d done.
“Maaaaa..” He yelled at the top of his voice and collapsed to his feet, his hands clawing into the plush persian rug that now adorned the floor where she’d lay limp, yet beautiful.
“Maa…Maa.” He rested his cheek to the floor and curled like a baby, clutching onto the warm embrace of his mother who he felt was still beside him even now.
“Maa…” He wept. Fifteen years, had it really been that long. Yet, the scene played before again, again and again and again, like a broken record that would never fade away.
Panting for short burst of breath, he lay on his back and looked up to the ceiling.
An ornate crystal chandelier hung low from the centre of the ceiling. At least, that was exactly like how he remembered.
Yet, as he closed his eyes, the words from his past echoed in his head.
“With her eyes like a beautiful doe, peeking from under kohl lined lashes. With her Bangles tinkling like the wind chimes on a warm summer’s afternoon, and a voice sweeter than the sweetest song bird.
When I slipped down the steps and her soft supple hands caught me, I hopelessly fell in love with her sweet innocence as the first rains of the monsoon fell upon us, the droplets glistening on her smooth marbled skin like a thousand glimmering diamonds.
Rima Rima Rima, you’ve bewitched me, my darling. You have bewitched me body, mind and soul.
And now you are the reason I smile.
Tuhi meri chahat.
Tuhi mera Junoon.
Tuhi meri zindagi.
Tuhi meri Khushi.”
His father’s words kept ringing in his head. Those were the words he’d written in the diary his mother had eventually found two hours before his sister was meant to have been married away.
Despite everyone warning her of his wayward ways, his mother had kept unflinching faith in him. But it had all come crumbling down when she’d read his diary, describing the woman he’d fallen in love with.
“Tuhi meri Khushi.” Arnav chuckled with scorn, yet his tears blurred his vision. “And what about me, Baba,” he yelled. “What about my Khushi? Do I not deserve to be happy? Do I not deserve my Khushi…give me my Khushi…I want my Khushi back. I want my Khushi back.”
“Bhai.” Akash sighed in relief to have found him. “Bhai, the show starts in an hour. We need to go.”
“Eyes like a beautiful doe.” Curling around the carpet, like as though caressing his mother’s cheek, he choked. “My Maa’s eyes were beautiful too. They were prettier than a thousand does. My father failed to see the beauty that lived in her heart. He failed to see that the woman he was falling for, was luring him in her trap for his wealth. It was all just for his wealth and nothing more…..bloody fool that he was.”
With a heavy sigh, Akash collapsed beside him.
“They’re all the same.” Arnav’s voice seethed with hate, and with disgust too. “Dime a dozen they are, bloody middle-class bitches, will spread their legs for any man with a bit of wealth.”
Akash sighed again, as though biting his tongue before speaking his mind.
“Say it brother. Say what you’re meaning to say.” Arnav mocked him.
“Sorry Bhai, but I disagree. Not all girls are after wealth. My Maa too is a middle-class girl.”
Arnav glanced at him from the corner of his eyes before breaking into an evil laugh. “Yeah, I agree. Your mother married my Mamaji for love, isn’t it? Wealth had nothing to do with Manorama Mami’s choice of a life partner.”
Akash bit into his lip, but gathered his voice again. “Wealth or otherwise, they love each other. Maa would die for Baba.”
“My Maa too would have died for my Baba.” He sat up. “In fact, she did. And she was compelled into doing so because of a woman who lusted for my father’s wealth. That middle-class greedy bi*ch never once thought of his wife, or his children. All she wanted was his money.”
He clenched his jaw tight. “They’re all the same. The girl I fked last night was the same, as the ones I fucked last week. And the girl I’ll fuck tonight will also be the same.”
His eyes seethed with anger. “Every one of these middle-class sl*s just want one thing from me. A chance to shoot to fame as a model for my company. Or as my latest scandal. Hence I keep it simple. I f**k them as they come, for who they are, nothing but wh***s who will sleep around for easy money or a bit of fame. I take what I want, without letting my emotions get into my way, alright?”
Akash kept his head lowered.
“As of you, take good care of your heart, my brother. Who knows when one of these days some gold digging whore will lure you into her trap with her doe like dithering eyes, and songbird like voice.” Sitting up, Arnav patted his brother on his back and got up to his feet. “Now lets go, lets get this show done with so I can get out of this place and find some middle-class slut to f*k my frustration into.”
Two hours later, as he sat in the front row and watched the parade of the half naked girls walk down the ramp with sheer boredom, he couldn’t help pull his phone out to glance at the time, then the weather, the news, the stock market, and finally at a few pictures of his sister.
Another ten minutes and he could forever bid goodbye to this city, never to look back again.
The Mansion was now in his and Anjali’s name like it should have been. It had no use to him personally. But it was a top five star hotel in that area. And although he wasn’t in the hoteliering business, he intended to keep it that way.
It had ceased to be a home the day his mother had killed herself. It was best he looked it as an asset, an investment, a way to diversify his portfolio.
And then suddenly there were whispers, some commotion, some strange noise. He glanced to his side to find the woman next to him caked in an inch of make-up glaring at the stage and shaking her head.
There was shriek next.
“Hey watch where you’re going.” A girl yelled.
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” A meek confused voice caught his attention. And he shot his eyes up to the stage.
A pair of confused brown eyes met his. They looked away, before peeking at him from under lashes thick with kohl. “With eyes like a beautiful doe, peeking from under kohl lined lashes.” His heart recited, as his blood froze in his veins. He couldn’t look away, he was trapped in her hypnotic gaze.
“Sorry.” The sweetest voice fell in his ears again. His heart stopped for a beat. “A voice sweeter than the sweetest song bird.” The words came back.
And then a shriek, a gasp, a slip, a trip, a fall.
He pounced out of his chair, and she landed straight into his arms.
Time stood still.
And all that was, was his thudding heart and a pair of beautiful doe like eyes peeking at him in fear, in confusion, perhaps in arousal too.
A lightning struck him, straight to his heart, yet blood drained down his brains and shot down to his pants.
He kept his grip around her. Which way to his bedroom?
Trembling, her dainty delicate hands wrapped around his neck, the bangles jingled in his ears. A snarl escaped the back of his throat. “With her Bangles tinkling like the wind chimes on a warm summer’s afternoon.”
Spellbound, his eyes searched hers first, and then moved down to her quivering mouth. She shivered, her pulse fluttered, he parted his lips, to taste, to bite, to suck into the smooth skin of her throat.
The cool evening wind blew, a heady perfume of roses and jasmines caught his breath. And a sheen of sweet glimmered on her neck, like diamonds bursting into a the colours of the rainbow.
“Sir, she’s gate-crashed the show.” Someone yelled.
But a smirk kissed one corner of his mouth. “You’ve bewitched me, my darling,” he murmured under his breath. “You’ve bewitched me, body, mind and soul. And now I have a reason to smile. Tuhi meri chahat. Tuhi mera Junoon. Tuhi meri zindagi. Tuhi meri Khushi.”
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