Arnav continued to walk Khushi to the bed when she pushed away from him.
Mera ek mashwara hai iltija nahi poem full#
The full family procession escorted the couple to their room but dispersed soon after. Theek hai? Ab ghar chale ki yahi par aur datna hai?" Khushi laughed.
Humne doctor se baat kar li hai, tumhe sakt aaram ki zarurat hai. Chinta ki koi baat nahi! Choti-moti si hi toh chot hai." Khushi answered. Par Arnavji the, na toh hume jaldi hospital le aaye. "Yeh sab kaise hua, Khushiji?" Akash asked. With so many witnesses she didn't have another choice. This time, Khushi let him lead her back to the bed.
The room filled with the buzz of fussing voices and worried questions. He was saved the strain of replying as the rest of their family walked in. Hume pata hai ki aapko yeh sab karke kitni takhleef ho rahi hogi," she said, pushing him away. Of course it was just some twisted sense of responsibility that he would hold against her later. "Are you out of your mind, Khushi? Suna nahi doctor ne kya kaha?" Was that concern in his eyes? Could she dare to hope that it was care? Arnav was immediately by her side, holding her. Excited at the prospect of going home, Khushi jumped out of bed (or as close to that action as her injuries allowed) and promptly cried out in pain as she stumbled. The sprain on the foot is not too bad but don't strain it just because it's not as severe as the others. The stitches on your head and plaster on the arm should come off in two to three weeks, so I'll see you then. "Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada?" The doctor walked, eyes on her file. Just, don't." Arnav snapped, but there was more concern in his voice than anger. "Arnavji, hamari baat puri nahi hui." Her whisper was hoarse and weak. She tried to raise her left hand but wasn't able to move it either. Khushi woke up with a strange sensation on her head, dull pain pulsing behind her stitches.
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