17.1 Ranjha's surrender - IPK anniversary June26

This one is for JasmineRahul on her request for ArShi OS based on Heer-Ranjha plot. Also, belated happy anniversary of IPKKND.

The story is set in Victorian era in Jammu, British India. Also, family names are changed to suit the backdrop. Enjoy reading.

--*--

It was autumn of 1890. Jammu's serene landscape was filled with scent of pine as the chill winds carried it from the Pir Panjal- the largest range of lesser Himalayas. This was the land where livelihood of half the population depended on the backs of their famous pashmina sheep. From the high mountain fields to the crowded shawl shops along the Tawi River, pashmina meant wealth, power, and prestige. Sure, the Dogra maharaja ruled from his palace, but British influence could be felt everywhere. Traders sought contracts with "Angrezi" buyers, government officials adopted new pardesi customs, and every trader dreamed of sending his wool and shawls to England once.

Among the great trading families of Jammu, two families were the most prominent names- the Anands and the Razdans. And the reason wasn't just their wealth or their connections but the rivalry between those two houses that went back decades. The reasons were mostly unknown, although there were multiple stories around such as some business fraud years ago, a failed marriage proposal 3 generations before and so on. But no one knew for sure...

The Anands were the example of rags to riches. A few generations back they were merely weavers, in fact they worked as weavers for Razdans once upon a time. But from there, just through hard work, they had built this empire. Their huge haveli was built by their grandfather Bholanath Anand and it once housed his 5 children, 2 sons- Shashidhar and Ravikant and 3 daughters. Eventually his daughters were married off, while his sons lived there with their own families.

After Bholanath's passing away a few years ago, current head of the family was his younger son Shashidhar Anand. Although Ravikant was the elder one, but since he only had 3 daughters- Sheetal, Preetika and Seema, and no son, he didn't get much respect from the trader society let alone in the house. Shashidhar on the other hand, had a large family, 2 sons Shyam and Aman, and 2 daughters Payal and Khushi. His sons already handled much of the business and Payal handled the house along with her mother.

But his most precious child was his youngest daughter, Khushi.

Khushi had recently turned 16 but still carried the mischief and innocence of a little girl. At the same time, her beauty had become a frequent subject of conversation in Jammu's elite circles.

On the other side of the city was the mighty Razdan estate! If the Anands were known for their discipline and hardwork, Razdans were known for their pride! The family was distant relatives of the royal family and had always taken immense joy in showing off their influence and money!

The family consisted of 13 people, the family matriarch Subhadra Razdan, her 2 sons Arvind and Manohar and their wives and children! The eldest was Arvind Razdan who held the authority in the house, possessed immense wealth, thousands of sheep, contracts with traders across northern India, and enough power to challenge any man in Jammu. Unfortunately, he also possessed two wives.

The first wife- Ratna, had given him a daughter, Anjali, followed by two sons, Dhruv and Arnav. The second wife- Naina, had given him another son, Nandkishor aka Nandu. So, more often than not, both women were at loggerheads over inheritance and influence over Arvind.

And then there was Arvind's younger brother, Manohar Razdan, who believed his own branch of the family deserved a greater share of the business. His eldest son, Akash, who was Dhruv's age, openly competed with him. His daughter Lavanya did her part to fuel those fights with her gossip, while his youngest child, Neelam, was yet to understand any of this being barely 10 years old.

But at the center of it all stood Arnav Razdan.

He was the youngest child of Arvind's first wife. And a disappointment according to his grandmother and his father. Because instead of remaining in Jammu and learning the trade, Arnav had spent years wandering across India. He had traveled through Delhi, Lahore, Bombay, Calcutta, and Madras and more recently, he had sailed to London to pursue higher studies, only to return six months later without a degree.

And now, after many years of wandering through the world, this nomad Razdan was back in the city for his brother's, Dhruv's marriage!

To none other than Sheetal Anand. Eldest child of Anands, and a daughter of Arvind's sworn enemy Shashi's elder brother's daughter!

It was a clever move by Arvind to seize control over Anand empire as he knew Shashi and Ravikant didn't get along well. And thus, using Ravikant's help he could get insider information on Shashi and counter him in his business...

If only they knew that all the plans were going to fall flat.

--*--

Today was the Mehendi function of Sheetal-Dhruv marriage and the Anand haveli had never looked more splendid. Hundreds of clay lamps illuminated in their courtyards. Mandap made of silk spread over the gardens. Musicians played sitar and shehnai under the carved wooden arches while servants moved through the crowd carrying silver trays with sweets, dried fruits, and saffron sherbet. Nearly every prominent family in Jammu had received an invitation. After all, everyone was curious how Shashidhar agreed to marry off one of his family's girls to Razdans' son. Sure, it was his brother's daughter, a brother who wasn't really respected in the house but still.

Soon, someone announced the Razdans had arrived and the heads turned towards the main gate as one after another horse drawn carriages entered the Anand estate.

He was seated in the last one. Not one to make appearances for his family's respect or his father's wishes, his attendance brought his mother joy, his brother Dhruv a surprise and his father and dadi mild irritation. But he was not here for any one of them.

Arnav was here to see the much talked about girl in Jammu. Khushi.

During his travels he had met many beautiful girls, even had fleeting romances with a few, received marriage proposals from their fathers but no one had made him want to give up his freedom and his nomadic lifestyle... But ever since he heard about this girl, Khushi, he didn't know why he felt pulled towards her. He wanted to see her once. Just once. He didn't know why, but he had never felt this way before.

And that was the reason why he had come here. Just to see her.

He followed the rest of his family, with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes searching for her. Although he had never seen Khushi as her father had forbidden any painter from making her portrait, he had a strange feeling he would recognize her the moment he saw her.

That was when he noticed one of the smaller gardens beyond the musicians' canopy and found his feet carrying him there on impulse.

And as he reached nearer, he almost forgot to breathe. Because there, amidst a maze of colors and light, sat the most beautiful girl he had ever seen...

She sat on her heels, rangoli spread before her. Her face was turned towards him but her gaze was fixed intently on her work. His eyes lingered on her form noticing every single thing he could from that distance. Her almond-shaped eyes, her cute button nose, her full lips, before drifting to the deep red lehenga choli that accentuated her graceful figure, her youthful curves and slender waist. Her dupatta covered her front and rested over her head, though it had slipped just enough to reveal a cascade of silky black hair. Surely, she was heaven's finest creation!

Oblivious to the spell her beauty had cast upon a stranger, she remained lost in completing her artwork. Although everyone had laughed at her for choosing to draw it in one of the rear gardens instead of the front courtyards where guests could admire it, Khushi had stubbornly insisted on decorating this forgotten corner of the estate. Like a premotion of her future, where she'd notice a man the society had ignored.

She finished placing the last diya, and then the gorgeous smile on her lips turned to a frown as she noticed that she had trapped herself in the center of it, unable to find a way out.

Just then she heard a man's voice, "Give me your hand."

She looked up and her eyes widened seeing a stranger in front of her. A rather handsome stranger! He was a tall young man with a lean frame and the most handsome face she had ever seen. A small smile rested on his lips, while his dark brown eyes reminded her of the warm kahwa her mother occasionally prepared on cold evenings.

As if in a charm, she placed her hand in his and then let him take her out of there. The way he held her hand, the way his touch gave her goosebumps stole her breath. No man outside her own family had ever held her hand before.

And then, as they stepped out of the circle, with Arnav ensuring her rangoli wasn't disturbed yet she was rescued safely, they heard her sister Payal's voice who had come there looking for khushi.

She gasped in shock seeing Arnav Razdan holding Khushi's hand and hastily came there, taking khushi away.

Khushi barely had time to glance back let alone thank him or even ask his name. Yet she found herself looking over her shoulder again and again as Payal dragged her towards the haveli... only once they reached the main courtyard did Payal finally explain why she looked so alarmed. The man in the garden had been Arnav Razdan, and their father had forbidden his children from associating with a Razdan.

Meanwhile, Arnav remained standing beside the rangoli long after Khushi disappeared from sight. And he realized with a startling certainty that this was the girl for whom he would lay down every road he had yet to travel on and every dream he had yet to chase.

.

.

What started on the Mehendi night, became a pattern for the rest of the 3-day wedding function for Khushi. Wherever she went, whenever she was alone, she found him near her, watching her with that same admiration in his eyes and a smile-like lift of his lips... He never made her uncomfortable, yet she could not welcome his attention either, no matter how much her heart danced at the sight of him. Her father had made it clear that she and her siblings were to stay away from the Razdans, his disapproval of the alliance between Sheetal and Dhruv no secret to anyone. And Khushi had no intention of disobeying her babuji.

However, unknown to her, her father had been looking for a chance to counter Arvind Razdan and the opportunity presented itself when Arnav approached him, asking to learn the pashmina trade under him- as an excuse to win Khushi of course but no one knew that yet. And thus, Shashi could think of no sweeter revenge than taking Arvind's own son under his wing. He announced it just as Sheetal's bidaai was done. That along with their personal relationship, the Anands and Razdans would now share a professional one as well, with Arnav Razdan joining the Anand business.

The announcement stunned everyone, especially Arvind, Subhadra and rest of the Razdans. And over the next few days, they tried everything to stop Arnav from, 'serving the Anands'. But the rebel he was, Arnav, didn't listen. And of course, this time the reason for his rebellion was a beautiful maiden that had captured his heart...

.

.

Over the next few weeks, Shashi took a personal interest in "training" Arnav. Which was anything but training. He gave him measly tasks like cleaning the sheep sheds, counting the sheep after grazing, and staying awake through the night to guard them. He also instructed his children to assign Arnav the lowliest tasks. And while Shyam took those instructions seriously, Aman often tried helping Arnav, and the two soon formed an easy friendship.

And then there was Khushi. The one for whom Arnav was doing all this and the one whose mind had been filled with prejudice against him. Her Babuji and Shyam bhaiyya had always said the Razdans were their enemies and that through Arnav they could settle old scores.

She had been given the responsibility of bringing Arnav his meals. Shashi had instructed that he be served only leftovers, but her amma, Garima was too kindhearted to allow that. Knowing Arnav came from a wealthy household and had been accustomed to the best food, she always prepared the same meal the rest of the family ate and handed it to Khushi to take to his quarters.

However, Khushi, influenced by her father and her siblings, found childish ways to trouble him. Such as "accidentally" spilling the curry, leaving him with dry rotis to tripping just before reaching him, sending half the meal to the ground, she kept troubling him in her own childish ways. Yet Arnav never complained. Whatever reached his plate, he accepted with a smile, thanked her, and ate every morsel.

But when this continued for 4 days in a row, Khushi started feeling guilty. By then her heart had started to force her to think that even if Arnav was an enemy as her father claimed, or a bad man as her brothers and jiji insisted, he was silently bearing their ill-treatment without a single complaint. And then came that day when her opinion completely changed.

That day, she had added extra salt to his daal, expecting something, anything that would confirm what she had been told.

Arnav took the first bite and his eyes closed for a brief moment, alerting her to think he'll finally snap.

But then, he opened his eyes, and took next bite. Then another. Not a muscle on his face showed discomfort.

Khushi watched him, in horror. And finally, when she couldn't take it herself, she said, "Aap- aap ye kaise kha rahe hai (How are you eating this)? It is...too salty."

A silence followed and then he answered her, "Do not trouble yourself, Khushi. I have eaten harsher food than this. Besides, you've brought this for me, I can't disrespect you."

That was when something in her fumbled...without a word, she took the plate from him. "Wait here." she said quickly, almost flustered, and disappeared before he could respond.

When she returned with a normal, tasty, warm bowl of daal, it wasn't only his meal that was changed, it was also her feelings for him...

And thus, from that day onwards, she stopped troubling him. In fact, she started to help him in her own ways. Like cleaning a corner of the shed while he ate or helping him know tricks to identify sheep from marks on them to help count and so on. Arnav, although spoke very little, whatever he did made her want to keep listening. He had a deep, husky voice, and whenever he looked into her eyes while answering a question or telling her a story from his travels, they shone with an emotion she couldn't name, yet found herself wanting to see again and again.

Soon, a month had passed, and what had begun as friendship between them blossomed into a tender feeling of love. While it may have begun with Arnav's attraction to her beauty, leading him to willingly become a servant for her family just to remain close to her. But it slowly transformed into his first true love. One which he would stay loyal to until his death...

Khushi, on the other hand, loved him with the wholehearted innocence of a 16-year-old. She didn't know when it had happened, or how it happened but she had already given him the place of her "swami", her husband, her everything in her heart. Loving him had become as natural to her as breathing itself.

And that night, amidst the storm and downpour, they confessed their love... Although they didn't need to say it in words, as their hearts already beating in unison proving their feelings. But when a sudden flash of lightning spread across the sky and fear gripped Khushi, she instinctively stepped into his arms.

"Hum...humein tufan se dar lagta hai(I - I am afraid of the storm)." her voice barely above the rain.

He was taken aback by her action for a moment. But then he quickly wrapped his arms around her small frame. "Shh. I am here." he said softly. "Nothing will reach you."

Truth be told, it was a testing time for him! With Khushi's soft body pressed against him, he was acutely aware of every boundary, every hesitation she had. He held her as though she were something sacred, ensuring not even the thought of impropriety touched her. Because he knew that she was not like anyone he had known before. She was not to be possessed. She was to be protected, revered, respected.

Khushi looked up at him then, rain caught in her lashes, her voice softer this time. "Arnavji...why do I feel safe only when you are near?"

He felt his breath stop for a second, absolutely taken aback by her trust and vulnerability in front of him. And then, he knew he owed her truth. Exhaling slowly, he answered her, "Because I have pledged my life, my everything to you..." the words he had only said to himself till now. "Do you not see, Khushi? That my life has ceased to follow any path but yours? From the moment I first saw you, something within me has turned irrevocably towards you, and has not strayed since. I have wandered far in this world, khushi and believed myself a man untouched by stability. Yet now I find that all I was before you feels distant, almost unreal. It is as though I was always wandering, only to arrive here... to you."

His gaze held hers as a resolution formed there. "If ever you are in need, if ever the world turns unkind, I would stand between you and it without hesitation. Not out of duty, Khushi, but because there is nothing in this world I now hold dearer than your safety, your peace... your happiness."

Khushi's lips trembled hearing his words. "Arnavji..." she whispered, "hum...hum ab aap ke bina nahi jee payenge (I can't live without you any more)."

And that was their love confession, bigger than any words, bigger than any moment could capture. Khushi's already love-soaked heart deepened its surrender to him that night, seeing him care for her, respect her.

However, their happiness was going to be short-lived.

Because hidden in the shadows of the night, Shyam had witnessed everything. The embrace, the storm, the love confession. The moment that should never have happened between his sister and a Razdan. Least of all, that nomad, gypsy, Arnav Razdan!!!

And something inside him twisted with rage. He had to remove Arnav Razdan from Khushi's life and maybe, from this world itself.

--*--

A/N – This was written with an intention to be a one shot but now will have to make it to 2-shots. Also, I had planned to post on June 6th, around show’s 15th anniversary but as I am travelling, I am getting very limited time to write and somehow managed this with a few minutes here and there during my day.