Part 5
Sasi rushed
into his house, panting.
“Garima,
jiji....” he called, frantic with worry. How could he make the necessary arrangements in two days?
“Kaa hua,
Sasi babua?” Madhumati asked, waddling towards him.
“Jiji, we
are in trouble,” he gasped.
“Kaa hua,
Payaliya’s father?” Garima asked, pulling her pallu firmly over her head.
“Chandu Lal...a
boy is coming to see Payaliya...” he said, wiping the sweat on his forehead.
Buaji looked
at Garima, her eyes dancing with joy. “Khushi ki baat he, Sasi babua. Why are
you upset, Nandkisore? Unhappy that you will have to do your daughter’s bidai?”
she teased.
“They are
coming on Wednesday. This Wednesday. In two days. They will be here at 5pm.”
Sasi slumped in his chair.
Buaji
clutched her heart. “Hai re Nandkisore!”
“Yeh kaise
hoga, jiji?” Garima asked in shock. “How can we make the arrangements in two
days?”
“I was
planning to get the house and shop whitewashed next month,” Sasi sighed
wistfully. “I never thought a rishta would come so fast.”
Garima
asked, “Who is the boy, Payaliya’s father?”
“That is
another problem. He is rich, educated, and from an aristocratic family,” Sasi
said, his worried eyes on his wife and sister.
“Hein?”
buaji exclaimed. “Why should such a boy come to our house with a rishta, Nandkisore?”
“How will our
Payaliya adjust to such circumstances?” Garima asked, scared for her daughter.
Sasi nodded.
“It is easy for people like Chandu Lal to say that our daughter will live like
a rani in that house, but what about the difficulties our child will face in
that house? The difference in circumstances! How will their friends and family
treat her? What if her husband feels that she doesn’t fit in?”
Buaji
nodded. “What is wrong with the boy? Why isn’t he seeking a bride from a family
that matches his wealth and station, Nandkisore?”
Sasi
grimaced. “He is a Mallik from Sheesh Mahal. Son of Arvind Mallik and Ratna
Raizada.”
Buaji
clutched her heart. “The double suicide?”
Sasi nodded.
“Hai re
Nandkisore!”
“Payaliya’s
father, tell them not to come here. Our bitiya will not go to that house. The
Malliks were disagreeable people, all proud and very conscious of their
consequence. We will not let our bitiya go to that house to suffer. How dare
Chandu Lal bring such a proposal?” Garima’s cheeks turned red with anger.
“How can we
ask them not to come?” Sasi asked. “That is rude. Hamare sanskaar ke virudh he.”
Buaji
nodded. “Sahi keh rahe ho, babua.”
“And Chandu
Lal said that the boy is handsome, well-behaved, educated, rich...and that he
liked Payaliya’s photo and wants to marry her,” Sasi informed them.
“But his
parents, Nandkisore...” buaji wailed.
“What’s the
use of blaming him for what his parents did?” Sasi asked wearily. “If he is
better than his parents and that beastly chacha of his, then he is to be
commended. But I seriously hope he takes one look at us, our house, and
circumstances and decides to seek a bride elsewhere.”
Buaji and
Garima looked at him with wide, worried eyes.
“Whether we
like the proposal or not, we have to make them welcome,” ruled Sasi. “Mujhe
poora yakeen he that once he realises how far beneath him we are money-wise, he
will vanish like gadhe ke sir se seengh.”
Buaji and
Garima heaved sighs of relief.
Sasi
glimpsed his daughters crossing the courtyard. “We have to inform Payaliya. It
is no use getting her hopes up.”
The ladies
could only concur with him.
“Babuji,”
called Khushi. “Kya hua? I looked for you at the shop, but you were missing.” A
teasing smile bloomed on her face. “You found a free moment and came home to
spend time with your wife, didn’t you?”
“Khushi!”
Payal was scandalised.
Garima
gasped. “This girl!”
“Parmeswari!”
buaji thundered. “No manners, no sanskaar, no laaj, sharm! Hai re Nandkisore!”
Sasi only
chuckled. When his amusement died down, he said quietly, “We have something to
tell you. Payaliya, a boy is coming to see you on Wednesday at 5pm.”
The moment
of shocked silence that followed this revelation was shattered by Khushi’s
squeal of joy. “Jiji! You are going to be a dulhaniya! Babuji, who is the
dilwala who is coming to steal away our dulhaniya?” She turned to Payal. “Jiji,
remember your promise to me. When you have children, you have to name your son,
Aloo Kumar and your daughter, Poori Kumari!”
“Hai re
Nandkisore! This Sanka Devi! You are deciding the names of children when the
boy hasn’t even come to see Payaliya,” buaji thundered.
“The chances
of this shaadi happening are slim,” Sasi warned his daughters.
“Why,
babuji?” only Khushi asked. Payal was too shy to ask her father the pertinent
details of her future!
“The boy is
from a rich family in Delhi,” Sasi replied cautiously. “I don’t think we are a suitable
match for them. I am certain that Chandu Lal made a mistake. Everything will be
cleared up once they visit us. Anyway, Payaliya, when they come, go to Preetho’s
house with Khussi and stay there. If there is any need for you to join us, I
will call you.”
“Yes,
babuji,” Payal, her babuji’s obedient pet replied.
Khushi’s
face fell. “Babuji, this is ghor anyaay. I want to see my jiju. Pleaseeeeee.
Aap ki paau padti hoon. Let me meet him once, babuji.”
Buaji heaved
a sigh strong enough to send the walls of the house shaking. “Chup, Sanka Devi!” she chided. “Chup karke go to your
room. Now. Don’t show your face here, Nandkisore, or I will go for the belan.
Kaan ke neeche ek kheench ke doongi that all bharam flies out of your head!”
Khushi
grumbled under her breath about the unfairness of the whole plan and led Payal
to their room.
Once the
door was shut, she leaped on her jiji.
“Jiji, aren’t
you excited?” she asked, hugging a pillow and jumping up and down on the bed. “Your
first proposal! A boy is coming to see you for the first time.”
“Khussi!”
Payal sighed. “What have we to give a rich man?”
“You! You
are a price beyond compare, my jiji!” Khushi enthused. “The poori you make!
They are round like a ball. And the aloo sabzi! Wah, wah! So mouthwatering! Any
man should fall to the ground and thank God for being able to marry you!”
“Khushi, tum
bhi na!” Payal had to smile at her sister’s antics.
***
The next two
days flew by in making sweets and changing the furnishings of the living room
to make the house more presentable for the guests.
Khushi insisted
on drawing a rangoli design of a peacock in the courtyard to welcome the
guests.
“Khussi, I
told you that this shaadi will not happen,” Sasi told her gently. “Don’t make
so many arrangements. Why did you make five types of sweets and namkeen,
bitiya? The boy is not for your jiji. Let’s not embarrass the guests with our
preparations.”
Khushi’s
face fell. “It is jiji’s first proposal,” she pouted, making her way towards
her father to hug him tight. “Do you know how long I have been waiting for my
jiju, babuji? Longer than jiji has been waiting for her husband,” she claimed.
Sasi sighed
and ran his hand gently over her head. A moment later he said softly, “Get
Payaliya and go to Preetho’s house, bitiya. You have done enough here and it is
time for them to arrive.” He glanced at the clock. “Chandu Lal hasn’t arrived
yet,” he muttered anxiously.
***
Chandu Lal
rushed into Gomti Sadan a few minutes before the Raizadas arrived.
“Sasiji,
aren’t you happy? No? Don’t worry. Soon you will be. When you lay eyes on the
boy I have picked for your bitiya, aap khushi se paagal ho jayenge. Wah, wah,
Chandu Lal, you are a magician!” he praised himself.
Sasi grit
his teeth. When he could control his desire to strangle the man and loosen his
jaw enough to speak, he asked the broker, “Why did you pick such an unsuitable
boy for my daughter? What will my child do in Delhi in a rich family except
feel out of place?”
Chandu Lal
dared to laugh. “Sasiji, you must meet the Raizadas. Very down-to-earth and easy-going.
And Arnav Singh Raizada is very family-oriented, a far cry from his father. You
will thank me...” His attention went to the entrance where two high-end cars
had come to a stop. “Lagta he they have arrived. Chaliye, Sasiji, let’s welcome
them.”
***
Khushi
peeked from Preetho’s terrace. “Jiji, they have come!”
Payal
hissed, “Come inside, Khussi. They will see you hanging from the rooftop like a
shameless hussy.”
“I want to
see my jiju,” Khushi insisted. She stretched her long neck out further to catch
a glimpse of the boy. Her mouth fell open. “Jiji, he is so handsome! Bilkul
made for you, jiji.”
“Khussi!”
Payal tried to tug Khushi away from the terrace.
Preetho joined the fun. “He is good looking,
Payal jiji, but he has spectacles,” she remarked.
“And he is
tall!” Khushi almost trembled in excitement. “Jiji, you will look like a doll
next to him. Bilkul gudiya ki tarah.” She turned to look at her sister, her eyes filled
with joy. “Jiji, when I tie raakhi to his wrist on rakshabandhan, I will have
to stand on a stool!”
Preetho
laughed.
Khushi
dragged Payal to join them. “Look. Look at him,” she insisted.
Payal’s eyes
fell on the tall, handsome, bespectacled man standing by one of the cars. His
face was lifted to look at the havelis in the neighbourhood. The gentle breeze
played with his hair and he lifted one hand to tame the strands. He looked up
to see Payal spying on him from the roof.
Her heart
skipped a beat.
After one long
moment of holding his intent gaze, Payal recalled her surrounding, gasped,
and turned to run away into Preetho’s bedroom.
Khushi and
Preetho who had ducked when he had looked up, followed Payal into the room.
***
“Akass
bitwaa, watch and learn how your bhai gets a girl. It ijj your turns nextwaa,”
mami advised her son.
Akash managed
to smile, feeling his heart beat so fast that it almost jumped out of his
chest. Who was that girl? Her beautiful eyes, her clear skin that looked softer
than the finest silk...the startled gaze...a gazelle in motion...who was she?
He felt almost dizzy, leaving him deaf to his father’s remarks and his dadi’s
teasing.
“You go in,”
Arnav told his family softly. “ I need to take this call from Aman.”
Akash
blinked.
"Chaliye Akash," Anjali said, taking his arm. He let himself be dragged into the house next
to the one where he had seen the girl. The rest of his family followed. Arnav
alone sat in his car, speaking to Aman.
***
“Have they
entered the house, I wonder?” Khushi whispered as she crawled back to her
vantage point to spy on her jiju and his family. Her face fell when she saw
that the street held only the two cars.
“They were
in such a hurry to go inside,” she grumbled. “I couldn’t even catch a second
glimpse of the groom.”
The car door
opened, startling her.
A tall man
emerged, phone held to his ear.
From her
hiding place, she could see the shiny waves of his hair and the lean lines of
his body clothed in expensive-looking fine fabric.
“Who is he?” she mused. “The groom has already gone in with his family. Is this his
friend?”
“Khushi,
come in,” Preetho called, laughing. “Payal jiji seems to be lost in dreams.”
Khushi was
too focused on the dapper man on the street to hear her. She leaned forward,
endangering her slim body and reputation as she tried to get a clear view of
the man.
He ended the
call, slipped the phone into his pocket in a smooth motion, and turned his head
to look at her house.
Khushi felt
her breath stop. He was handsome, more handsome than Salman Khanji, younger
than all the Bollywood heroes she worshipped, and so charismatic that she felt
time freeze as she stared her fill.
Arnav took a
deep breath. He was finally in Lucknow, standing outside the house of one
Khushi Kumari Gupta he had been obsessing over for the past couple of weeks. It
was time to join his family and meet her. A tendril of nervousness clung to the
walls of his heart. Anticipation mingled with anxiety unsettled him. Years of
handling complex negotiations with great panache meant nothing as he stood
outside her house, gathering sufficient courage to step inside.
About to
step forward, he paused, feeling eyes on him.
He looked up and into the most
beautiful eyes he had ever seen even though her face was upside down. They
looked startled, bereft of naughty laughter. Khushi Kumari Gupta in the flesh. He
gulped. She stepped back, her tight hold on the railing easing. The movement
made her nose pin glint before she vanished from his sight.
He stood for
one long moment by the road, feeling energy course through his veins as it had never
done in all the years of his existence. He felt strong, invincible. His mind
was made up. It was Khushi Kumari Gupta or no other for him.
He frowned.
What was she doing in the house next door? Had he gotten the address wrong? He
looked at the plaque on the wall. Gomti Sadan. This was the house.
He looked at
the terrace once more. No Khushi.
He strode
into Gomti Sadan, determined to settle things at the earliest.
***
