Saturday, November 17, 2012

Walk the Line - Chapter 56

Another wedding day, in another country. Miles away from where they had first become husband and wife. Right where they had first become man and woman. 

Arnav Singh Raizada woke up to a sense of loneliness in bed. For the past few days, he’d gotten used to waking up next to his wife. But last night, Khushi had stayed back at the farmhouse, while he and his immediate family had come back to Raizada mansion. Nani had insisted they not see each other the day of the wedding, although he’d found a way to get around that. It had been a week since they had come back from the US, a week in which his sister had gone literally ballistic trying to put together an intimate wedding at the farmhouse, with Dilip trying to slow her down what with the baby bump getting bigger by the day. Today was the second marriage for them, with all the honor and traditions that a wedding ceremony holds in India.

The week had gone by very fast. Everyone seemed to understand that they were newlyweds and the jokes were endless. But no one seemed to understand that as newlyweds they also wanted to have some time to themselves. Khushi was always surrounded by his female relatives, for some reason, and frustration would gnaw at him, sometimes to the point where he just wanted to grab her and drag her to their room, and make love to her till they were both senseless. It was only in the privacy of their bedroom at the end of the day, that they could breathe a sigh of relief, and just be with each other, making love and talking usually till the rosy hues of dawn started tinting the skies.

Last night though, had been bad. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep, finally calling her up and hitting the little Facetime button on his iPhone. Thank goodness, he’d gotten her one, too.

‘Are you going to come on a horse?’ she’d asked him.

He smirked at her and retorted, ‘I’ll ride Shelby and carry you off her on her back.’

She blushed at that, remembering how that day had ended. He loved that she could still blush, even with their new found intimacy.

‘Your nose is red,’ he whispered.

‘Idiot,’ she retorted.

He smiled at the memory, they’d finally fallen asleep when his phone had started dying on him.


It was time for him to get ready to leave for the ceremony. He struggled with the buttons on the sherwani his sister had insisted on his wearing, and which he knew Khushi had picked out.

Opening his wardrobe to get out his cologne, he saw how filled it was with her clothes as well as his, the colorful dresses and suits in sharp contrast to the monochromatic hues of his wardrobe, and he smiled. Well, she had to have her clothes somewhere! But he was going to need more wardrobe space soon!

He opened the safe and took out the little blue velvet box lying in it. Opening it, he picked up the bracelet inside. It was a bracelet, laced with diamonds, in looping knots, with a ruby in the center of each knot. It was one of a kind jewelry designed by him and part of a set - her wedding set. He tucked the box into his pocket.

He’d given his sister a surprise when he’d told her that he didn’t want Khushi to go buying a wedding outfit. Anjali had been outraged at first, until he told her he’d organized it already.

This morning, a courier had arrived for him. A large case was handed over and he signed for it, taking it up to his room, after asking her to come with him.

‘What is it, Chotey?’ she had followed him in.

‘Di. I didn’t want Khushi to wear something bought from a store. This is for her,’ and handed over the light case to her.

She opened the box curiously, laying it on the bed, noticing the AR Fashion house logo on top. Inside was the most beautiful lehenga set that she had ever seen. And jewelry boxes. He picked one up, opened it and pocketed it. A smaller box sat inside as well, and as she went to open it, he put his hand on his sister’s and said, ‘it’s .. um... ‘ feeling the heat rise in his throat.

‘It’s what?’ his sister was really curious.

‘It’s everything she needs to get dressed in,’ he rushed out awkwardly.

Her eyes opened in dawning realization and a bit of embarrassment as well. ‘Oh!’ All the boxes were inscribed with the AR logo, including a shoe box. ‘You designed all this?’ she was amazed.

He nodded his head. She tilted her head and looked at him. ‘How long have you known?’ she asked softly, cupping his face in her hand.

‘Since San Francisco,’ he answered honestly.

She raised her eyebrows at that. Her brother moved fast, for sure. He liked something and he really went for it! But she was whole-heartedly behind this decision of his. It was the best decision of his life.


The farmhouse had been decorated with lights. The inner courtyard was completely covered by a marquee, except the center, which had been raised and done like a gazebo, decorated with white and red flowers. This was to be the mandap, where the bride and groom would walk around the sacred fire as they took their marriage vows. Only friends and relatives had been invited and the crowd of fifty or so people would be witnessing the marriage of Arnav Singh Raizada with Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada. The ever-faithful Aman had coaxed him into letting one photographer in, Joel - a professional fashion photographer and also one they could trust to not leak anything to the press. Only the pictures selected by them would be published.

Arnav stood at the steps leading to the mandap, somehow feeling a bit nervous as he waited for Khushi to come out for the varmala.

Lavanya, Akash and NK stood behind him, looking on, as finally a hush went over the crowd. Khushi walked out of her room, with her mother and her sister on either side. Most of the women had tears in their eyes at the picture she made. Lavanya caught her breath when she saw what Khushi was wearing.

It was the wedding dress. The skirt was a midnight blue. The bottom edges were the raw glory of the morning sun. Sun rays shot upwards from this horizon. Moons, tiny crescent ones, were patterned in the middle of the skirt. From the waist downwards, a hundred stars showered downwards becoming fewer and fewer as they got to the moons. The blouse – or choli – had stars moving up from the midnight skies of the lower part of both the body and the short sleeves. The colors melded into the morning glory of the deep neckline. Tiny sunrays fingered their way to the bust. The veil was the deep red of sunset, and all it contained were stars. She wore a single chain – sunbursts with a ruby in the center. On hair hair parting was a maang tikka – tiny crescent moons, linked on a chain. And from her ears hung the stars of different sizes unevenly clustered near the collar bone – fewer on top and full at the bottom. A glittering necklace of subursts and stars sat snugly around her neck.

‘Oh my God, NK,’ she whispered, clinging to his arm. ‘ASR designed this himself!’

‘Really?’ he was surprised. ‘When?’ Her put his arm around her hugging her to himself.

‘When they came back from San Francisco, the first time,’ she was almost giddy with excitement. ‘I knew it! I knew it!’

Someone shushed her. The wedding began.


The wedding was over, the photographs were taken, endlessly, according to Arnav. The feasting was done, and while most guests had driven away, the family was still there. Arnav was finally allowed to go to his room. His sister had insisted upon his waiting while they got Khushi ready. He wasn’t prepared for the sight that met his eyes as he entered the room. Candles lit the room, and it was decorated with flowers. The perfume of the candles and the flowers made a heady mix.

What he hadn’t expected was to see her sitting in the center of his bed, which had been covered into a flower bedecked cradle for them, with a center circle of rose petals. The skirt of her dress flared out around her, she sat lightly hugging her knees, her hands resting on them. Bangles covered half her forearms that were decorated in deep mehendi. The veil was draped over her face so that all he could see was her nose and chin and the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the diamonds on her throat and hands and ears catching the candlelight with each breath, reflecting and flashing in the dimness.

She could feel her heart beat accelerate as soon as he closed the door and locked it. Throughout the ceremony she had been so aware of him. Every thing that they had done, his eyes had been glued to her, smiling at her. ‘You look beautiful,’ he’d whispered in her ear as he put on the mangalsutra round her neck. Somehow, this wedding had taken on a meaning of its own. The last time it had been for each other only - but this time, with their families and friends around them, it had been deeper and somehow more emotional for her.

From the corner of her eye, she watched him close and sit on the bed, next to her. He’d blown out the candles leaving only a lamp on the bedside burning, while the moonlight shone in through the windows. She noticed him looking at his hands, before she heard him say with something of a smile in his voice, ‘I didn’t know you were going to be that traditional a bride!’

She went to lift the veil, but he caught her hand. ‘I thought that was my privilege,’ he said softly, carefully taking the veil in both hands, and slowly raising it off her face. Her eyes were dark pools of mystery. He let the veil fall, and then got off the bed, holding his hands out for her. She put her hands in his, allowing him to draw her up off the bed. She stood in front of him, unsure of his mood. His eyes had narrowed as he looked into her eyes. Slowly he took off the maang tika. She stood still as he went around to her back, unhooking the necklace, the backs of his fingers brushing against her nape. He turned her around, and carefully undid her earrings. Her breathing was now getting erratic, his leisurely removal of her jewelry heightening her senses, aware of every breath that fanned across her skin. He lifted her arm and took off her bangles, his eyes intent on his task. He stood in front of her, loosening every pin in her hair, allowing her to feel the warmth of his closeness without touching her. She closed her eyes unable to bear this sensual assault without him touching her.

‘Open your eyes, Khushi,’ he husked. She opened them to see him opening a blue velvet box. He took out a bracelet and raised her right arm to fix the bracelet on it. She looked at him questioningly, as he put it on her. ‘What?’

‘Arnav, we’ve been married for over a week now,’ she said. ‘You already gave me a wedding gift!’

‘I know,’ He hesitated before continuing. ‘Khushi, business is what I do. But this is my craft, what I love to do. And I wanted to do this for you. Something that I had had made only for you. And to see you in that, was very special’

‘You mean you designed this ...?’ she asked him, her arms waving up and down her dress..

He nodded, lips pressed wryly, ‘Yes, I did.’


A glint appeared in his eyes. ‘Everything,’ putting special emphasis on the word ‘Every.’

She flung her arms around her neck. ‘Thank you,’ she was smiling, and then a thought struck her. ‘Wait a minute,’ pulling herself out of his arms, ‘EVERY thing?’ He nodded a grin on his face, watching delightedly as a crimson tide swept up her neck and cheeks. She hid her face against his neck, his arms going around her.



‘You know, I never believed in getting married. I didn’t even believe in love. Now look at me. I’ve gotten married twice - that too, to the same person. And I’m helplessly in love with you,’ he finished in a whisper against her neck, his soft hair brushing against her cheek.

She laughed softly, her skin pale in the moonlight, drawing his eyes to her face. She drew back and looked at him, her eyes glowing with love for him. She couldn’t believe she was here with him, surrounded by him and his love for her. That he loved her like the way he did!

‘I believe in marriage, and love, and I love you, too,’ she whispered.

The smile that had been on his face, broadened. He loved this woman. He would never know why or how. From the moment she’d careened into his chest, she’d made her way into his heart and now he’d have it no other way.

‘Besides,’ she replied, lightly kissing him. ‘How many women get to marry the man they love not once but twice?’

‘Hmmm... let me see,’ he said, punctuating his words with little kisses on her face. Kiss...’Didn’t Elizabeth Taylor,’ ...kiss.. ‘marry Richard Burton,’ .. kiss .. ‘three times?’ ... kiss.

She burst out laughing at that, throwing her head back and allowing it to rip out of her throat. He stared at her mesmerized by her laugh. He’d never heard her laugh like that, her face lighting up, her pearly teeth glistening in the moonlight. His eyes dropped to her throat, inviting him and he couldn’t help himself.

He leant forward and lightly trailed his tongue along her throat. Her laugh stopped in her throat, eyes drifting shut. He kissed her cheek, a long, slow, kiss, taking his time with it. Nuzzling along her jawline till he found the hollow behind her ear. His thumb stroked the hollow behind her other ear at the same time as he kissed her right there. He felt her shudder in his arms, her nails digging into his shoulders.

‘Arnav,’ it was a plea.

Her hands were clutching the collar of his sherwani. Gently he removed them before going to the curtains and drawing them closed. The only light came from a little lamp on the nightstand.

In the dim glow, she looked into his face. The planes were hard, his eyes narrowed with flames of desire in them. He placed his hands on the small of her waist, drawing her closer to him. He wanted to feel her, all of her today, with all of him.

Her fingers were making short work of his sherwani buttons, he shrugged out of it, his lips closing in on her mouth. Unerringly his fingers worked on the ties of her blouse, the doris, swiftly untying them, never letting her mouth go. Bare chested now, he unhooked the clasp at the back of her blouse, drawing it down over her shoulders. revealing the half-cup lacy red bra underneath. Her hands were moving over his chest as he drew back to look at her with heavy-lidded eyes. He bent his head, to laying kisses on the creamy shoulder exposed to his hot gaze. She sighed in pleasure as his hands found the knot to her lehenga’s skirt, untying letting it pool at her feet. He lifted her up in his arms, before gently laying her down on the bed, discarding his uncomfortably tight pants and joining her there. He held her in his arms for a moment, just cuddling her, heart beating against hers.

Drawing back he took a leisurely look down her body, clad only in the red lingerie that he’d designed for her. He stroked her from her waist up, running his palms against the underside of her breasts still encased in the bra, as his mouth came down on the soft swells above it, the soft aureoles peeping through the top, beckoning him. Her legs were tangling restlessly with his, rubbing up them, until he pushed his leg in between hers, feeling the heat from her core against his thigh. His throbbing, aching manhood wasn’t going to be able to take much more of this, he thought. He hooked his hand in her panties, and briefly raised her up to pull them down, tossing it away thoughtlessly.

His mind, his senses, his heart, everything was filled with her. The front clasp of her bra came undone, and her breasts sprang free. She moaned as she felt the cool wind hit her over-heated nipples. He quickly covered one with his mouth, while his palm rubbed little circles on the other, the nipples hard and wanting more. She flipped him over, and kissed him, her tongue clashing with his, the hair curtaining them off from the rest of the world. Hands found his nipples, tweaked them till he groaned with exquisite agony. She was riding his thigh, hips writhing on him, her wetness leaving trails on his burning skin. He slid out from under her, leaving her lying panting on her stomach, the whole of her back exposed like a gorgeous feast in front of his eyes. Quickly shedding his boxers, he got back into bed.

Tonight he wanted to go slow, he wanted to make it last forever, he wanted to give her the best wedding night ever. Brushing his hands along her spine, he kissed the nape of her neck and she shuddered again. Straddling her, he trailed little kisses along her spine. She was clinging to the sheets, as she tried to move beneath him. He moved lower, tasting her skin along the base of her spine, kissing the tattoo, filling his hands with her sweetly rounded derriere. Crouching on his haunches, he tucked his hands under her hips, lifting her, finding her breasts and sliding his hands over them, rolling her nipples until she made one of those throaty sounds. He got harder at that, but breathed deeply to control himself. He lay down gently on top of her, feeling her body, all the way from her neck to his heels, rough velvet to silk.

‘Khushi,’ he could never have enough of her, even saying her name, burning it into her shoulder gave him a satisfaction he hadn’t thought possible!

He rolled over on his side, taking her with him, one hand seeking and find her wet nub, the other wrapped around her breasts as he kissed her nape. He pulled her leg back over his, opening her to him, his hardness sliding between them, rocking against her, but not entering her yet. Not yet.

‘Please,’ she gasped.

‘No, not yet,’ he growled, his fingers finding her nub and stroking it gently, Her hand guided him, giving him the rhythm she wanted, her head flinging back seeking his mouth with hers.

The friction he was generating between her legs made her shiver, the coiling tensions growing inside her belly. She moved faster against his hand, her hips the only part of her moving as he held her immobile with his upper hand, biting on her lips to prevent the cries building up inside her throat.

‘Please ... I need you ... ‘

‘Soon ... soon..’

He flipped her completely on her back, thirsting for the drink that only she could give. His tongue dove inside her, while he removed his hand from her nub, allowing her to rub herself, his hands gripping her hips as he drank from her. She moved faster, deep moans coming with every stroke of his tongue. She was so close. He quickly moved up, sinking himself into her, filling her, feeling her start to come around him.

She closed her eyes, wanting to reach that spot, so close, there were stars bursting inside her eyelids, she screamed his name out once, her back arching off the bed. Both of them helping her come. She fell back panting and felt him again.

He was still inside her, still hard, as he slowly started moving inside her, stroking her sensitive channels, fast and hard now. She removed her hand from herself, but he brought it back between them. ‘Touch yourself,’ he was breathing harshly. Her eyes flew open. ‘Yes, Khushi, touch yourself.’ His right hand kept her left captive, spread out. His left hooked under her back, pulling her hips up higher. She touched herself again, rubbing harder with each of his strokes.

‘Now ... Khushi .. Come .. with ... me,’ he groaned into her neck.

She spiraled out of control, her body flying with his, as the earth shifted under them. Calling him, hearing him call her, holding her as they both flew together. Feeling him pulsing inside her, holding her tight, giving all of himself to her. Slowly they drifted back to earth.

‘What was that?’ she asked drowsily.

‘That was a promise. To you. Forever,’ he said, tucking her close to him, before closing his eyes in exhaustion.


Hari opened the door to Raizada Mansion, both doors all the way. Anjali, Mami, Nani and Payal stood in front of them, Mama and Dilip bringing up the rear. Anjali had a thaal in her hand, a plate for doing the aarti. Payal had a small brass vessel in her hand, filled with rice and mango leaves.

The hall had been decorated with flowers, and drapes, and lights.

Nani stood smiling in front. ‘Anjali, do the aarti,’ she instructed her granddaughter. Payal placed the small vessel on the floor in front of them, while Mami brought a plate filled with vermillion and water, and placed that on the floor as well.

Anjali marked their foreheads with vermillion - a tika - and did the aarti, sprinkling rice on them, welcoming both to the house.

‘Now tip that vessel over, Khushi’ she said. Khushi put forward her right foot and gently pushed the vessel till it tipped over and the rice spilled on the floor. Then she placed her feet in the plate of vermillion water and lifted her right foot out, placing it on the floor, leaving her mark there, as a symbol of the Goddess Lakshmi, the goddess of Prosperity, walking into the house.

And so, Khushi Singh Raizada entered the Raizada mansion for the first time as a daughter-in-law.


  1. yum. what a brilliant wedding. and what a fantastic promise. no words.. let me bask in the love. the warmth of a beating heart.. the embrace of a lover. you convey that feeling, even through the fiery hot lovemaking and the ebullient frothing of new amor. beautiful.

  2. I would love to see her wedding trousseau, the lengha aswell as the jewellery. The fact that he designed EVERY thing really is so awesome.i loved how he explained to Di that it was everything she needed to get ready. What a conversation to have with your big sister. But so sweet


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