Part 7
Garima stood
shell-shocked as Mami clutched her with eager arms, weeping all over her
shoulder.
Sasi stood
gobsmacked. Where was the upper-class lady who had entered his house a few
minutes back, all Benarsi saadi and poise?
“Garima, how
could you forget your Manno?” mami wept, lavishly spreading her kajal on
Garima’s clothes.
“Manno?”
Garima asked in acute shock. She held mami away from her and gazed at the
colourful face before her, unable to recognise her. The eye makeup, rouge, and
the hundred other cosmetic products mami had slapped on her face had mixed and
mingled, turning her face into an abstract painting by a toddler.
“It is me,
your own Manno, Garima. Remember how we shared the same bench in classwaa and
how the bald Maths teacherwaa would ask me questions every day and you would
whisper the answers to me,” mami wept.
Garima’s
mouth fell open. It was Manorama! “Manno,” she whispered, fervently hugging her
dear friend whom she hadn’t seen for decades.
Buaji’s face
was a picture as she looked at the touching reunion happening in her living
room. She raised one eyebrow at Sasi as if to ask him what in the name of
Nandkisore was happening. Sasi shrugged helplessly. He had lost the plot a
while back and it didn’t look like he had any hope of regaining it.
The Raizadas
were no less intrigued. They watched the happenings with interest, smiling away
at mami’s nautanki. Chandu Lal was thrilled. Finally, he was seeing light at the
end of a very complicated and twisted tunnel.
“Meet your
jiju,” mami said, tugging Garima to Manohar who stood up with folded hands to
greet his wife’s childhood friend.
“I have
heard numerous stories of your escapades, Garimaji,” Manohar said laughing. “I
am so pleased to finally meet you. Manno had been gnawing away at my ear with
tales of your eventful childhood.”
Garima
smiled, saying tearfully. “Aap hamare ghar padhare, that itself is our good
fortune. I never thought I would see Manno again in this life.”
Mami
introduced Garima to her entire family. Anjali hugged her warmly while nani
gave her blessings with a generous hand. When Garima was introduced to Akash
who bent to touch her feet, she held him by his shoulders to lift him, kissed
his forehead, and whispered, “Manno’s son, so grown up. Jeeyat raho, babua.”
She then turned to mami and teased her, “How come you have such a well-mannered
son, Manno?”
Mami laughed
out loud. The Raizadas had to smile at the truth of the statement.
“Laagat he,
Garima bitiya, Akass bitwaa has more of my son in him than his nautanki
mother,” nani remarked with a laugh.
When the
laughter died down, Garima turned to Sasi. “Payaliya’s father, this is
Manorama, my childhood friend. We studied together for years. Manno, this is
your jiju. That is your jiju’s jiji,” she introduced buaji who nodded
pleasantly saying with a laugh, “Laagat he koi phillum chal rahi ho,
Nandkisore. Do bichade yaar meeting after years. Garima, are you sure you don’t
have one portion of a soapbox and Manoramaji, the other?”
All laughed.
Garima’s
face grew serious. “Manno, you have come to see Khussi?”
“Yes, for
Akass bitwaa’s cousin, Arnav bitwaa. Garima, you can’t deny me our bahuriya,
hello hi bye bye!”
The Guptas
shared worried glances.
Into this
tense moment walked in Shri. Arnav Singh Raizada.
***
Sasi, buaji,
and Garima gasped seeing the dapper, mature-looking, suljhe hue successful
businessman who wanted to throw in his lot with that of Khussi, the jhalli
rani.
“Hai re
Nandkisore!” buaji exclaimed.
“Jiji,” Garima
whispered, a scared look thrown at buaji.
Nani
introduced Arnav to the three Guptas. Like a good boy, Arnav greeted them with
folded hands. The Raizadas heaved a sigh of relief as their scion displayed
perfect manners and an irreproachable attitude.
“Garima,
bhere ijj Khussi? We have been waitings to see her,” mami complained.
‘Hanging
upside down from the balcony next door,’ Arnav could have told his mami. He hid
a smile as her image flashed through his mind.
“We thought
you were here to see Payaliya,” Garima revealed.
Akash
gasped.
“What?”
Chandu Lal asked. Could the day get any worse?
Arnav was
too shocked to respond. But the other Raizadas were vocal after a long moment
of acute shock.
“Payaliya?
Your other daughter?” nani asked.
“But we told
Chandu Lalji that Arnav bitwaa liked Khussi’s photo, hello hi bye bye!” mami
exclaimed.
“I told
Madhumatiji over the phone. I did. Kasam se. I told her the bride was Khussi,”
Chandu Lal tried to establish his innocence.
Buaji hit
her head. “Hai Re Nandkisore! There was something wrong with our phone,
Devyaniji. I couldn’t hear him fully and he couldn’t hear me at all.”
“We had no
idea it was Khussi,” Sasi said with a sigh.
There was
silence as the Guptas looked at the Raizadas wide-eyed and the Raizadas
returned the favour.
“Is it a
problem that I wish to marry Khushi, uncle?” Arnav asked quietly, breaking the
silence.
The Guptas
hesitated, but finally, Sasi spoke, “Bitwaa, I have two daughters. Payaliya is
the older one and Khussi the younger. We were expecting to marry off Payaliya
first and then Khussi.” He looked at nani who nodded, understanding a father’s
desire. "So, entertaining a proposal for Khussi when Payaliya is unmarried
is...difficult. Moreover...” Sasi looked Arnav in the eye and said clearly, “Khussi
is an orphan. She is Garima’s sister’s daughter. After the death of her parents
in an accident, we have been looking after her...” His eyes pleaded with his
sister to put into words their reservations.
Buaji took
up the onerous duty. “Woh kaa he, Devyaniji, our relations, especially our
mother, didn’t like us taking on her responsibility. She has spent many years in
this house feeling like an outsider. So we were planning to get her married to
a boy in Lucknow with a large family that accepts her as she is and doesn’t
mind that she is an orphan, Nandkisore.”
Arnav’s heart
ached for the beautiful maiden who was alone and helpless against the world. He
would give her a home and a family and make up for all the bitter experiences she
had undergone in this house.
Buaji drew in a deep breath and blurted
out the truth. “He will also have to accept that she is sanki, jhalli, and a
parmeswari!”
The Raizadas were too astonished to speak. Arnav blinked. Chandu Lal clutched his heart. He strongly believed that too much honesty was very detrimental to the successful negotiation of a marriage proposal and buaji was determined to cross all existing boundaries of honesty.
Garima
continued from where her jiji left off.
“She is young, naughty, does everything without thinking of the
consequences.” Her eyes lingered on Arnav’s pristine appearance with doubtful
eyes. “It will take a lot of patience and fortitude to bear her antics.”
Buaji and Sasi
nodded in full agreement.
“She is
pure-hearted and fun-loving, Devyaniji, and I fear, too immature for marriage
to any man, let alone someone as successful as your grandson is,” Sasi spoke
softly, knowing he was disappointing the whole family.
Chandu Lal's heart sank into his jootis. Nothing could save this deal when one party was determined to undermine it by being too honest.
ASR was
nothing if not persistent. Water dripping on a stone for centuries to carve out
a hole had nothing on him. A breath later, Arnav said softly, “My di and I are
orphans, just like Khushi. So her lack of parents is not a matter of concern
for us. I have a large family that is willing to make her a part of us. And
although we live in Delhi, we are from Lucknow.” He was determined to save
Khushi from a life of loneliness, neglect, and penury.
Nani spoke
up, “Sasiji, to know if Chotey and Khussi bitiya are compatible, I think they should
meet. How can we decide if they will get along?”
All the
Raizadas except Arnav added their persuasions.
Sasi looked
at buaji and Garima, helpless in the face of this joint entreaty.
“The girls
are with their friend next door. I will summon them,” he said quietly, leaving
the room.
Arnav and
Akash felt their hearts lighten. They had laid eyes on the right girls.
Garima and
buaji pushed the Raizadas to taste the snacks, unaware of the thoughts rushing
through Arnav and Akash’s heads.
***
