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.
