"Arnav-ji, kya hum shopping ke liye jaaye?" she asked her husband who was busy typing on the Laptop. 

(Arnav, can we go shopping?)

He didn't take his gaze away from the laptop, replying in haste, "I have no time, Khushi. Tum Di ke saath jaao." 

(I've no time, Khushi. You can go with Anjali.)

Khushi pouted in disappointment at his blunt refusal. He wasn't even looking at her. His Laptop is more important to him than her.

"Par Arnav-ji-" she was cut off by a shrill ring of the phone. Well, it was her Laad governor's phone, from her living Sautan. 

That's because every other Sautan(s) is a non-living being. 

(But Arnav)

"Yeah, Aman?" Arnav greeted him on the phone, and without giving him any chance, he asked him for which he was about to call Aman. But he called before could do, "Yeah, what happened to the Singhania's file?"

He, while talking on the phone, walked out of the room into the poolside, his personal heaven. Leaving his wife behind who pouted more at his disinterest. 

Such an unromantic Laadgoverner was her husband! She could only murmur, complaining to her Devi Mayya sitting on the edge of the and biting her nails. 

A few minutes passed into biting her nails, thinking of ways to make her husband say yes. Alas! Her tiny brain didn't come up with anything. 

Before she could even think more, her husband came back, his conversation was done with Aman, and thumped her credit card in her hands. She didn't understand why he had gone to the cupboard as soon as he entered the room. Now she does!  

Oh. Yeah, she always had a habit of forgetting the credit card her husband had so lovingly arranged for her. After she became Mrs. India, there were a lot of changes in her lifestyle but never ever did the bubbly crazy woman in her changed. 

Her husband had taken care of her credit cards, check payments, and debit cards; all of the income she earned was secured by her husband, from the events she attended and advertisements she had done for TV, including being a Model for her husband's company. 

"You always forget your credit card, jaao jaake shopping karo Di ke saath," he murmured, sitting on the recliner and working on the laptop again. She always keeps her cards safely in the cupboard but forgets to take them out whenever she goes out, putting herself in trouble. Her husband would oh-so lovingly scold her and then save her as always. Not that she forgets every time! There were instances when she didn't forget but her husband would pick on the days when she did forget. 

A Laadgoverner he is!

(You always forget your credit card, go shop with Anjali)

She is ready to emotionally blackmail him for getting him to come with her. 

"Ar-" she was cut off by her hubby dearest and her mouth hung open at his statement. 

"No emotional blackmailing will work, Khushi. Be a good girl and go shop with Di," he was stern, not at all ready to come into her innocently twisting words and he wouldn't be able to deny if heard his wife's sugar-coated and tear-dripped voice. 

"Laad Governer!" she commented before storming out of her room with a purse and a credit card secured in it. 

"Suna Maine," he screamed at her back. 

(I heard that)

Khushi halted in her steps and ran back to the door, pointing her finger towards him, "Suna na. Toh yaad bhi rakhiyega. Humpph! Laad Governor!"

(You heard it? Then do remember it. Humphh! Laad Governer!)

She went away ignoring her husband, with Anjali Di who was sweet enough to accompany her sister-in-law. All the while, she didn't forget cursing her husband under her breath making Anjali burst into a fit of giggles under her breath. 

The next day,

Khushi was busy in the room, checking the clothes she bought from the Boquete she always goes to, away from the prying eyes of the media. 

It was then Arnav decided to enter, done with his office and non-living Sautans. 

He was about to compensate for his yesterday's denial, of his wife's offer by taking her to a dinner date in their farmhouse.  

He wasn't even given a chance to open his mouth as a shrill ring of the phone was heard. 

And Naah! This time it wasn't Arnav's but Khushi's. 

Khushi kept aside the clothes and picked the phone up excusing herself from her darling husband, "Arnav-ji, aik minute."

(Arnav, one minute.)

She wasn't far away from the room not to hear her words. He could even see her smiling into the phone, "Aarya-ji, boliye."

(Aarya, tell me.)

He frowned at her wider smile, showing her full teeth, and his eyebrows perked up at the name — Aarya. 

Who the hell is Aarya? He never heard that name from her mouth. He chuckled a few seconds later, knowing his bubbly wife would have talked to dozens make the opposite one friends already. 

Aarya must be some new friend, he thought, still chuckling at his crazy wife, shaking his head at her. All the love for his woman poured out of his eyes. 

That was until he heard the next sentence. 

"Achha? Toh humare measurements ke liye aana hai?" Khushi beamed into the phone, innocently. 

(Oh? So I should come for my measurements?)

What the! Measurements? His wife's measurements would be taken from some Aarya guy. Green Monster raised on his head at that thought. His face burned green. His orbs also seemed green along with the color of love beside them. 

He never liked even anyone looking at his wife, touching her is a far-off thing. The amount of jealousy he kept in himself during the Mrs. India contest is still in his mind. He is good at controlling it when she started modeling and acting. Even then, when she models, she always had her PA, Nitya, whom he appointed after a lot of BG checks were done. Only when he was sure Nitya is true and safe, he allowed her to be his wife's PA. Nitya would generally even take measurements of his wife whenever there was necessary when she modeled for different companies or acted in advertisements. 

"Ji, zarur. Hum aayenge," she grinned, agreeing with what Aarya had said. 

(Sure, I'll come.)

All of his body parts stood up in attention. When she came back into the room, he asked only one thing, "Who's Aarya?"

Khushi looked up at her husband and grinned answering, "Sales manager." Without giving him any chance to reply or even notice him, being she, she started the war of words, "Kal hum Di ke saath gaye the na shopping ke liye, Aarya-ji vahi mile. Naya Sales Manager hai. Bahut acche insaan hai, hume dresses chose karne me bahut madad ki hai."

(I've gone with Anjali Di to the shopping yesterday, isn't it? A new Sales Manager. A very good person; helped me in choosing the dresses.)

Arnav discarding her other words, asked, desperate to know, "Are you going again?"

Khushi nodded her head, the smile not leaving her face. She loved the dress to the core, after all, and was consoled by Anjali when it didn't fit her, "Ji. Unko hamare measurements lene the. Jana hoga. Kal aik dress mere size ka nahi hai toh unhone bola vo banwa sakte hai. Isliye measurements dene jaa rahe hai."

(Yes. My measurements are needed. Have to go. One dress didn't fit me yesterday and so I was told a new one with could be ordered to be made. Have to go and give measurements for that.)

"There's no need. Whatever it is, I'll send Nitya here. She'll take your measurements and will order the design, anything you want, or take Nitya with you, only she would take your measurements," he told her sternly. He either would let her have measurements done by Nitya or not go to the Boutique at all. 

Khushi frowned. Nitya was on leave. How can she come? "But Arnav-ji, Nitya is on leave."

"I know. If you want to go to Boutique, either wait for her or not go at all," Arnav frowned in anger, gritting his teeth. 

Khushi wasn't less who replied back to him straight, frowning back at him, poking her finger on his chest, not understanding why he's denying her, "Hum jaayenge, and that too without Nitya!"

(I'll go and that too without Nitya)

"Mene kaha na, bas keh diya. TUM KISI BOUTIQUE  NAHI JAA RAHI HO!" he screamed. 

(I told you, it's a final word. YOU ARE NOT GOING TO ANY BOUTIQUE!)

Khushi screamed at him back, equally. The gall of her Laad Governer denying her for no reason and screaming at her for nothing. "Hum kyun na jaye? I'll go, anyhow. Dare me!"

(Why shouldn't I go?)

Her reply only ignited him. 

"Don't make me angry, Khushi. Are you doing this on purpose to make me jealous?" He asked. She loved to rile him up with some or other thing whenever he denies her something and doesn't come to her words. 

Khushi scowled at him, "What? Jealous? But why will I do that?"

His nerves throbbed in jealousy. Green Moster on the top of his head was dancing high. He screamed, all the jealousy consuming him, "Because I denied to come with you shopping and you know I don't like even THINKING OF ANOTHER MAN TOUCHING YOU!" 

He didn't even allow her to act in any advertisements where any kind of more than mild-touching scene was involved. Not that Khushi ever agreed. 

Measurements are something private and too intimate for one. His brain went on holiday in jealousy to think of other possibilities..that there might be someone else who would her measurements.

"What the!" she uttered. Arnav ran out to pour some water over his head, throwing his laptop away on the recliner.

Khushi, a few seconds later, burst into a fit of laughter after he barged out of the room.

Hahaha! His brain was surely on a holiday. He surely didn't think of other possibilities..that AARYA could be the name of a woman. 

Khushi burst into more laughter, the corner of her eyes wrinkled with little tears, as she fell on the bed behind, rolling on it. 

She could even tease him for the stupid behavior he had showered on her. 

She'd definitely take advantage of it. She laughed more. She'd see her Laad Governer's face dripping in embarrassment when he comes back, cooling down. 

Such fun she would enjoy teasing the so-called Harvard Graduate, that stupid Laad Governer of a husband of hers!

The End

Let me know how was it! 

Regards,

Poly

04/02/2023