2020. 1. Heart of a Rose (Part 6)

Part 6

“Devyaniji, Manoharji, aayiye, aayiye, aapka hi ghar he,” Chandu Lal said, beaming.

Sasi stood behind him, feeling extremely anxious and uncertain.

As the hordes from Delhi entered the house, greeting the broker, he turned to introduce them to Sasi.

“Sasiji, meet your samdhi. This is Devyani Raizada and her son, Manohar Raizada. This is Manorama Raizada, Manoharji’s dharam patni. Meet Akashji, their son. This is Anjaliji, your damad’s elder sister.” He turned to introduce Sasi to the Raizadas. “This is our own Sasiji whose forefathers started Satwik Mishtan Bhandar, an iconic sweet shop in our Lucknow city.”

Sasiji folded his hands in welcome. “Namaste. Aayiye, baitiye,” he murmured, motioning to the seats.

Devyani Raizada, the doyen of the family smiled broadly at Sasi. “There is no need for such formality, Sasiji. Hum bhi Lucknow ke hi hein. We are very happy to be here.”

Sasi gulped. He was saved from further bleating by Chandu Lal.

“Where is the groom?” he asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the busy businessman at the far end of the crowd.

“He is in the car,” Anjali replied with a smile at Sasi.

Maybe the boy was distressed by the appearance of the ordinary haveli the Gupotas lived in and wasn’t intending to meet the bride? Sasi looked hopefully out through the open door.

“He is talking to his secretary, Amanji. He will be here in a moment, uncle,” Anjali tried to allay what she thought was Sasi’s anxiety. He watched as she slowly limped into the room and felt extremely unsettled. Money couldn’t guarantee health or she would have been walking like a normal person, he mused.

Mami settled more comfortably in her chair and as Sasi watched, fanned herself with her hand. Her pink goggles, the makeup, her rich Benarsi saree, the latest phone in her hand, and expensive-looking handbag on her lap—she looked like an actress in a Hindi phillum. She was patently out-of-place in the middle-class setting.

Chandu Lal switched on the fan. The ancient relic produced an onerous sound as its wings made their creaky way, slightly stirring the air in the large room.

“I..I will call my wife and jiji,” Sasi murmured as he quickly made his escape.

He found Madhumati praying fervently to her Nandkisore to protect her nieces.

“Jiji, they have come. Where is Garima? We have to talk to them.” His face was grave and his voice quiet.

Madhumati nodded. “The children are in Preetho’s house, safe and sound?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Tab to theek he, Nandkisore,” buaji muttered. She turned towards the kitchen and called out, “Garima, come out. We have to meet them.”

“Coming, jiji. Aap donon jaayiye. Let me set the tray for tea,” she replied.

“The sooner the khaatirdaari is over, the sooner they will leave for Delhi,” buaji muttered. “Chalo, babua, let’s go.”

Sasi led Madhumati into the living room.

All stood up to greet her.

“This is my sister, Madhumati. My wife will be here in a moment,” he said softly.

“Please sit down with us, Madhumatiji,” Devyani invited, patting the seat next to her.

Unwillingly, buaji took the place by the elderly lady.

“We are very happy to come here, Madhumatiji, to meet your niece,” Devyani said with a comfortable smile. “We hope she will be our bahuriya soon.”

Buaji almost choked on air.

“We are very eager to meet her, uncle,” Anjali said with a bright smile, her eyes gleaming with happiness. “Chotey liked her photo and agreed for shaadi. I hope she likes him.”

Nani nodded. “He is my first grandson to get married, Sasiji. That’s why we are very excited about this rishta.”

Chandu Lal said, “Yes. Arnav Singh Raizada’s shaadi should be celebrated across Delhi.”

Anjali’s eyes fell on a family photo framed and hung on the wall. “Uncle, you have two daughters?” she exclaimed, getting up from her seat and limping towards it. Akash got up and accompanied her, holding her arm so that she didn’t trip on the carpet. “Both of them are so beautiful,” she whispered. Akash was too moved to even nod as his eyes fell on the beautiful girl standing by his bhabi-to-be.

Sasi replied, “Yes, I have two daughters.”

He turned to Devyani and Manoramaji who were trying to see the photo from their seats. “I am honoured that you have travelled so far to form a rishta with us...”

Before he could complete his sentence, Devyani waved away his apparent gratitude, saying with a laugh, “It is our need, Sasiji. We came to carry away our bahuriya.”

Mami and the others nodded in agreement.

Sasi drew in a deep breath and tried again, “We are a very ordinary middle-class family. I hope Chandu Lalji told you about us.”

Nani, Manohar, and mami nodded easily.

“From what he told us, you can look for a bride from a better family,” Sasi inserted before the Raizadas waved away his concerns. “We don’t match, Devyaniji. Our daughter may not be suitable to be your bahuriya and we are not the family you should let your grandson marry into. Chandu Lal said that he is a very successful businessman in Delhi. I am certain that he can find a bride more suited to his position than my daughter whose life revolves around the house, the shop, and the temple.”

Anjali looked at Sasi with perturbation in her wide eyes. “Uncle, please don’t worry. We will love her and treat her with all the respect our bhabi deserves.”

Akash nodded fervently.

“Devyaniji,” buaji added, “When we gave our bitiyaas’ photos to Chandu Lalji, we expected proposals from families like ours. We never expected that the Malliks...matlab the Raizadas would come with a proposal, Nandkisore. You lived like kings in Lucknow while we are a middle-class family. Hamein laagat he our bitiya will not be right for your grandson.”

The Raizadas were alarmed. Chandu Lal couldn’t believe his ears. Was Sasiji literally kicking out the Mahalakshmi who had deigned to visit his home? He opened his mouth to protest, but was beaten to it by nani.

“You know our story, Sasiji. Every child in Lucknow must have heard of what happened to my daughter and her husband,” nani spoke quietly, her eyes reflecting her pain.

Sasi nodded, looking down in the face of such anguish.

“Our position, our money, our social status...nothing could save them. After the death of their parents, Chotey and Anjali bitiya were thrown out of Sheesh Mahal by their Chacha,” nani continued.

Sasi and buaji gasped.

“They came to stay with us,” nani said. “Everything we have today, Chotey worked hard for. We know the value of sanskaar and want our Chotey to have a bride who pleases him and who is pleased by him. Aap inschinth rahiye,” nani stressed. “your daughter will be respected and loved. Woh kya he, Sasiji, Madhumatiji, Chotey was against marriage. We tried so hard...”

“But the ghoda wouldn’t drink from the poolwaa,” mami explained, shaking her head.

Sasi blinked.

“And then Arnav bitwaa agreed to marry,” mama added.

“He saw your bitiya’s photo and that was it,” nani concluded with a smile. “Maybe there was something in Khussi bitiya’s photo that made him realise how lonely he is.”

Sasi and buaji gasped, “Khussi?”

The Raizadas looked perplexed at their astonishment.

Chandu Lal looked askance at the Guptas. Now what was the problem? He felt he were running an obstacle course and tripping at every hurdle.

Garima entered the room, carrying a tray with tea.

Sasi and buaji were too shocked to even help her.

Akash jumped up from his seat and took the heavy tray from her.

She smiled at the sweet boy in gratitude and watched him place the tray on the low table at the centre of the room.

She brought plates filled with the five types of sweets and snacks Khushi had made and Akash took them from her and placed them by the tray.

Garima pulled her pallu more firmly over her head and came to stand by her husband.

“Garima,” Sasi said weakly, “the proposal is for Khussi, not Payaliya.”

Her eyes widened to their maximum size. “Khussi?” she whispered, looking at buaji in horror.

“Garima? Garima!” came another cry.

All stared in shock as a mini toofan threw itself at Garima, hugging her within an inch of her life.