2020. 1. Heart of a Rose (Part 5)

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.

                                                    ***

2020. 1. Heart of a Rose (Part 4)

Part 4

“Aman, I am considering marriage,” ASR said, his voice expressionless.

Aman gasped, the file dropping from his hand showering papers as it made it graceless way to the carpeted floor of ASR’s office.

“I have to visit the girl and her family to fix it,” ASR said with a frown, not sure about the rituals and processes entailed. “The broker will arrange the meeting and I may have to take an evening off.” He assumed the girl lived in Delhi.

“Yes, sir,” Aman managed to say.

“We need to speed up the delegation of duties. I don’t wish to continue working day and night after marriage. Fix the interviews for key positions next week.”

“Yes, sir.” Aman thanked God from the bottom of his heart. Now he could finally go to bed at a reasonable hour and get rid of the bags under his eyes.

                                                         ***

“Sasiji, hum Chandu Lal bol rahe hein!” the broker screamed into his phone for the fifth time.

“Kaun, Nandkisore?” buaji asked. The landline was faulty and at times, swallowed words.

“Chandu Lal, broker Chandu Lal!” the hapless man repeated.

“Chandu Lalji?” buaji asked, finally managing to get the name.

“Ji,” the man heaved a sigh of relief, feeling droplets of sweat trail down his neck. A climb to the Himalayas must be easier than communicating on a phone that refused to do its job, he mused. Sasiji’s mobile was in a shop being repaired and he couldn’t wait until it was ready to communicate such exciting news. “Ladka aa raha he, Madhumatiji, to see your niece, Khussi. When shall we receive him? They need a date.”

“Kaa?” buaji asked, a frown on her face. She had heard only one word in the whole conversation. “Date? Kaahe ki date?”

“To see the girl,” he spoke as loudly as he could but it was in vain. Madhumati could hear nothing. "Madhumatiji!" he screeched. Passersby turned to look at him with wide eyes. He turned away from them.

“Chandu Lalji? Kaahe phone kiye rahe to know today’s date, Nandkisore?” buaji asked.

Chandu Lal and buaji continued their conversation in this spirit till buaji slammed the phone down after explaining to the broker at length that her phone was faulty, more than half of which Chandu Lal couldn’t hear.

The broker pulled his hair with both hands in frustration. A prospective groom was ready to meet Khussi, the tomboy of Lucknow. Rich, educated, aristocratic, the boy was better than any damad Sasiji could dream of. And the commission that Chandu Lal himself would receive if the shaadi took place would keep his family well-fed for one full year. The Raizadas had to meet the Guptas. He decided to take matters into his own hands and fix a date. He also needed to inform the Raizadas about Khussi's past as Sasi had instructed him to. 

                                                         ***

“Chotey, the broker has fixed the date for Wednesday at 5 pm.” Nani was beaming.

Arnav nodded, trying to maintain his wooden expression.

Nani hesitated for a moment and then said, “We have to travel to...Lucknow to see her, Chotey.”

Arnav stilled, his eyes widening. “Lucknow?” he asked hoarsely.

Nani nodded, feeling acute regret that his future was tied to the past he was trying to leave behind. But maybe this was the way to heal him. Trying to forget the past hadn’t helped. Maybe it was time to face nightmares, shine the torch at them, and watch them vanish in the mist.

ASR clenched his jaw and ground his teeth. He didn’t want to visit Lucknow. He didn’t want a wife from Lucknow. The cursed city could self-combust and he wouldn’t feel a thing. He parted his lips to refuse, but the image of the girl flashed through his mind. The innocent laughter in her eyes, the naughty curve of her lips....He swallowed hard.

“How long will we run away from a place?” nani asked, her tone betraying her exhaustion. “Lucknow didn’t destroy us, Chotey. People did. Our people.”

He lowered his head, hiding the emotions and pain churning in his heart.

“Chotey, I...I was hoping to...not speak of these things until we reached Lucknow, but...Chotey, it is better you know everything before we set out. Khushi...the girl you liked...she is an orphan.” Nani’s voice died away.

Arnav’s eyes flew open. His mind abandoned its preoccupation with his past, its tragedies, his pain, his disillusionment, and the hard road his life had been to focus on another person. “What?” he asked, his voice a mere thread.

Nani nodded, her eyes filled with remembered pain.

“Her parents?” he managed to ask.

“Died when she was ten,” nani informed him. “An accident.”

“Both of them?” he asked incredulously on her behalf. It seemed almost bad manners on their part to die at the same time and leave a ten-year-old an orphan. How dare they!

Nani nodded. “Her mother’s sister took her in. Her husband was kind enough to open his house to the child. She calls them her parents now. Chotey, the broker informed me that her family was insistent that all prospective grooms be told the truth before they set out to see her.”

An orphan! Alone, helpless, vulnerable. Something curled up and died within him at the very thought.

“And her father is a halwai. He comes from a family of halwais.” Nani hesitated. “They are not very well off. Financially, they are no match for you. I know you picked her photo, Chotey, but if you want to change your mind...”

The protective, responsible, hurt part of him urged him to take her, Khushi, under his wing, shelter her, shoulder her responsibilities, wrap her in cotton wool, cocoon her from any potential threat, remove all thorns in her path, lavish his money on her, treasure her...He had to go to Lucknow to meet her. There was no way he could disappoint a child whose life had already dealt her a bad hand. He had to overcome his distaste for the city and meet her. There was no choice.

“I will make the travel arrangements,” Arnav stated before leaving the room.

Nani stared after him, unable to believe that her Chotey was willing to let his past be and travel to Lucknow, the scene of his worst life experiences and accept a poor girl who had a painful past.

“What did Chotey say, nani?” Anjali whispered in nani’s ear.

“He agreed.”

Mami clutched her heart, her painted eyes as wide as they could go. “Ijj that our Arnav bitwaa? Ready to marry a poor girlwaa phrom Lucknow? Has a bhoothwaa entered his body?” she asked, fluttering her eye lashes.

“Why did he agree, nani?” Anjali asked in wonder.

“I don’t know, Anjali bitiya,” nani said softly. “I am too thankful for this miracle to question it.”

                                                       ***

It was two days later that buaji remembered to inform Sasi that Chandu Lal had called.

“Chandu Lal, the broker?” Sasi asked, lowering the teacup.

“On the phone that doesn't work, jiji?” Garima asked.

“Yes, Nandkisore,” buaji sighed. “The whole world knows that our phone is not working, lekin pata naahi kyon they insist on calling us.” She popped a laddoo in her mouth and chewed it reflectively.

“Why should he call us?” Sasi wondered. His face cleared. “Maybe he has found a dulha for Payaliya. I have his number. I will call him from Mohan’s shop.”

                                                       ***

Chandu Lal was riding his scooter, battling the traffic of Delhi by sitting on the horn and shouting obscenities at drivers who flouted the rules, when his phone rang. With great difficulty and daring, he managed to manoeuvre the vehicle to the side of the road and park it.

He pulled out the phone.

The call was from an unknown number.

“Helloooo,” he said.

“Chandu Lalji, it is me, Sasi Gupta.”

“God is kind that he made you call me. I tried to inform your sister that a boy is coming from Delhi to see her niece at 5pm on Wednesday,” the broker said gleefully.

Sasi almost dropped the phone.

“Wednesday? This Wednesday? As in the day after tomorrow?” he asked, his voice high-pitched in shock.

“Yes. Get ready to marry off your bitiya to a handsome prince from Delhi, Sasiji. Good family. Aristocratic in fact. You know about the Raizadas and the Malliks, I am certain. The boy is Arnav Singh Raizada, Ratna Raizada’s only son. He took his mother’s surname. He is Arvind Mallik’s son and is a big businessman in Delhi.” Without waiting for Sasi to get over the shock, the broker continued. “You know the scandal. His parents committed suicide at Sheesh Mahal. What is the use of blaming children for the deeds of their parents? I know you are a wise man and won’t give any importance to the past. Sasiji, the family asked me to inform you about the double suicide. That’s why I mentioned it. Anyway, when you meet the boy and his family, you will forget his past. Your bitiya will live like a rani in his house.”

Sasi gulped.

“Handsome, well-behaved, educated, rich—he is a catch,” the broker continued.

“Why does he want a girl from an ordinary family then?” Sasi asked, perplexed. “If he is the reservoir of all virtues as you have made him out to be, then he can marry from the wealthiest family in the country.”

“Your bitiya is lucky. He liked her photo out of the many I sent to his nani.”

“But...”

“Shaadi he, Sasiji. Sab kuch uparwale ke haath mein he. I am only a broker. Don’t refuse the good fortune that has come to your family. Get ready to receive him and his family on Wednesday at 5pm. I will be there at about 4.30. Aap chinta na karein.”

Sasi leaned against the door of the phone booth, unable to even list the thousands of things he needed to ready before Wednesday in his mind.

A car honked behind Chandu Lal’s scooter.

“Hum chalte hein,” he told Sasi before cutting the call. “Tanik thehro,” he told the driver of the car who honked again. “The road doesn’t belong to your dadi.”

                                                          ***

2020. 1. Heart of a Rose (Part 3)

Part 3

Nani looked at him with eyes filled with hope.

His lashes trembled and fell. He just held out the photo to nani.

“You don’t want to see the other photos, Chotey?” she asked, her voice faint with fear that he would backtrack.

“No,” he mumbled. He took a deep breath and found a reason to leave. “I have to get to office.” Work was a good excuse if it meant he didn’t have to dissect the reasons why he had taken the most important decision of his life in seconds.

“I will get in touch with the broker,” nani said with a relieved smile.

He nodded.

                                                         ***

On the way to office, Arnav’s head was filled with the image of the girl in the photo. Her eyes had been brimming with naughty laughter. 

His lips relaxed in a slight smile.

Akash looked at him with wide eyes. Bhai was smiling? He moved closer to his bhai to see if he had mistaken a tic or facial spasm for amusement.

“Kya?” Arnav asked with a frown.

Akash retreated, drawing his head back like a tortoise at the sight of a threat. “Nothing, bhai,” he murmured, inching away closer to the door. He knew when to leave a prickly cactus alone.

The smiling visage of the girl remained in ASR’s head as he went from meeting to meeting, digesting large amounts of data and negotiating like a master, leaving his opponents gasping in the dust.

It was very late at night that he lay on his bed, still thinking about the girl. He hadn’t asked nani for information on her. He didn’t even know her name! Unbelievable! How could he have been so remiss? What kind of businessman was he to take the most important step of his life without finding everything worth knowing about the girl he was to share his life with? Should he employ a private detective? No, his nani was more efficient.

The discomfiting thought that he had managed to sweep under the carpet of his mind throughout the day made its presence felt. Was he ready for marriage? What could he offer to the girl? Would his past and a head filled with nightmarish and gory images let him live what people called a normal life?

And fidelity. Would he end up like his mother, betrayed by the person she had trusted with all her heart? His heart fluttered. He looked down at his chest, slowly placing his hand on the left side to check if the organ was still beating.

His lashes fell to cover his eyes. Di had to get on with her life, not hang around waiting for him to deal with his problems. He sighed. Did he really have a choice about marriage? The question was rhetorical. He sighed. He needed to find out as much as he could about the girl and protect himself from his mother’s fate.

Sleep came to him with great difficulty that night.

Morning saw Arnav at his nani’s door.

“Chotey?” she was surprised. “Aayiye. Kaa hua?”

“Did you contact the broker?” he asked directly.

“Yes. He has promised that he will arrange a meeting at the earliest.”

Arnav nodded. “What do you know about her...family?” he asked.

Nani hesitated. “Chotey, she is not from an aristocratic family like we are, but they are nice people. I think you should give her a chance,” nani urged.

“I see,” he murmured. “Please ask him to inform the family about our past so that there are no unpleasant surprises for them after we visit them,” he reminded.

Nani nodded slowly.

“What is her name?” he asked, feeling his heart go thump, thump.

“Khushi Kumari Gupta,” nani said with a smile.

He nodded and left the room. Khushi, Khushi...the name resounded in his head. Happiness. Her face flooded his mind. The name suited her, he felt. A small smile graced his lips.

                                                    ***

2020. 1. Heart of a Rose (Part 2)

Part 2

Dedicated to our own Sammy, an Iron Lady and our own Superwoman. Love,

Arnav sat on the recliner in his room, his head in his hands. The pill he had taken for his headache would take at least 15 minutes to act and his head was pounding. Regret that he had hurt his nani burned a hole in his heart like drops of acid falling on tender skin.

There was a knock on the door.

Di. It would be di. It was always up to her to keep the peace at home.

“Come in,” he grunted.

Anjali walked in with a tray of food for him. She placed it on the low table by him and limped back to close the door. She uncovered the tray to take a plate of food in her hands and then walked to sit by him.

“Chotey, your dinner,” she murmured.

“I am sorry, di,” he murmured.

She brought a spoonful of food to his lips.

He turned his face away.

“I—I didn’t mean to hurt nani,” he admitted. “It is just that...”

“I know,” she whispered. “Eat. We can talk later. You need to take your diabetes pill too.”

He ate, too tired and too upset with the incident earlier to have an appetite. After a few minutes, he took the half-full plate from his sister and left it on the tray. He poured a glass of water and quickly swallowed his medicine.

He then returned to sit by his di.

“She means well,” Anjali said, her voice soft and placating.

He nodded.

Anjali hesitated and then said, “When we lost our mother, she lost her daughter, Chotey. Never forget that.”

He looked at her, his eyes hurt.

Anjali had to look away. He reminded her so much of the 14-year –old boy who had hugged her on the day of their parents’ cremation and promised her, “I will always take care of you, di.” That boy was still alive within him. Life had ended for him the day their parents had committed suicide and their chachaji had thrown them out of their own home. Though he had grown physically into an adult, he was emotionally still arrested at that point, unable to move ahead with his life. She turned to look at him with wet eyes.

He looked away.

She cupped his cheek lovingly. “Talk to her, Chotey,” she murmured.

He nodded, his heart heavy with grief.

She slowly got up and left. There was only so much she could do and it was never enough to heal the gaping wounds in his heart.

A feeling of inadequacy filled her heart. If only their parents had behaved more maturely! If only they hadn’t chosen death over their children!

                                                   ***

After a wakeful night, Arnav walked down the steps early in the morning. The house was silent but he knew his nani would be awake, tormented by the memories his words had unleashed in her mind.

And he was right.

Nani was in her room, praying. Her face looked drawn. Clearly, she had not slept last night. He winced.

“Nani,” he called.

She looked up.

He walked in to sit by her.

They stayed silent for a while. The old clock she had brought from her home in Lucknow ticked, marking the seconds.

“I am sorry, nani, for being rude to you,” he managed to say.

“But you are still stubborn about not changing your life?” she asked, a wry smile on her lips.

He drew in a deep breath. “The business has a life of its own. Delegating is not an easy task.”

“What about shaadi, Chotey?” she asked.

Arnav shut his eyes, begging for patience from a God he didn’t believe existed.

“No,” he replied shortly.

“Are you sure, Chotey?” nani asked quietly.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Why?” she asked.

Arnav was confused. Surely she knew how his parents and their tempestuous marriage had embittered him!

“Other than the mess Aravind and Ratna made of our lives, do you any other reason?” nani asked coolly.

“Isn’t that reason enough to avoid marriage for a few lifetimes?” he asked shortly.

“All people are not Aravind and Ratna, Chotey,” nani replied softly.

Arnav turned away. “I have to be at the office early today, nani. I will get going,” he murmured, standing up to leave.

Nani stopped him as he reached the door. “Chotey, how old are you?”

Arnav replied, “30” without turning to face her.

“And how old is Anjali bitiya?”

“34.”

“Have you ever wondered why she refuses all the proposals we bring for her?” nani asked quietly.

He turned to look at her with sharp eyes.

“Because her Chotey is alone. When I insisted that she get married, she told me that she would marry only after her Chotey married,” nani said softly but clearly.

His eyes widened as he looked at her in shock.

“Now you can decide how long you want to cling on to the past and be selfish while your di stays a spinster, praying all the hours God gave us for a brother who is so preoccupied with his past to give attention to his present and future.”

The matriarch sat back. Her job was done.

                                                       ***

ASR called Anjali from his office.

“Di, please inform nani that I am ready to marry,” is all he said.

Anjali gasped and almost fell down in shock. “Chotey, yeh tum keh rahe ho? Are you sure? What made you change your mind?”

Arnav sighed. “She is right and I was wrong. It is time I looked to the future instead of back at the past. Aap nani se keh deejiye.”

Anjali slumped in her chair in pleasant shock.

“Kaa hua, Anjali bitiya?” mami asked. “Ijj Aiswarya Rai coming to our housewaa?”

“Even better, mami. You are going to get your first bahu. Chotey has agreed to marry,” Anjali managed to say through her tears.

“Hello Hi Bye Bye!” mami exclaimed.

“Mami, I need to call the Pandit after we share the glad news with nani. This calls for a havan!” Anjali exclaimed.

“It does, it does,” mami seconded her. “Chamatkaar hui gawa. Hamre Arnav bitwaa, who used to run from marrijj like people from snakewaa, ijj now ready for varmaala?”

“Kaa hua, Manorama?” nani asked, joining them. “Did you find a new makeup shop online?”

“Naahi, Saasumma. Your grandsonwaa ijj ready to be dulha.   Badhai ho!”

Relief spread across the elderly lady’s face. After a moment of hugging Anjali and mami, she said with tears in her eyes, “Light ghee lamps at the goddess’ feet. This decision will change Chotey’s life for the better.”

                                                   ***

“Chotey, I have left a few photos on your table. Go through them and select the girl you like. We can arrange to visit them,” nani said with a smile as Arnav walked in late at night from work.

He nodded.

“Did you have dinner, Arnav bitwaa,” mami asked.

“A sandwich,” he muttered as he climbed the stairs. He still had work left. It was going to be a very long day.

He entered his room and placed his laptop bag on the low table near the recliner, not noticing the covers of photos on which he had placed the bag.

He quickly grabbed his nightclothes and went to the washroom. After a refreshing shower, he returned, swallowed his pill, and took his laptop from the bag on the table to go out into the garden by the pool to work.

Aman called. He called Aman. Aman messaged him. He messaged Aman. The hours fled by, his focus entirely on the deal that had to be finalised.

Exhausted beyond words, he finally decided to call it a day.

Early in the morning, nani knocked on his door.

“Chotey, have you decided?” she asked.

“Decided?” he asked. “About what?”

“Your shaadi,” she cried, exasperated. “Didn’t you look at the photos I left on your...” Her eyes fell on the laptop bag sitting on the photos she had left for him in a few covers.

Hiding his impatience, Arnav lifted the bag from the table with more force than required.

One cover fell to the ground.

He threw the bag down and bent to pick up the cover. Sliding his fingers under the flap, he pulled out a photo and stood transfixed.

Sparkling hazel eyes filled with laughter, shining hair, a creamy complexion, plump rosy lips curved in a smile, colourful earrings, and a nosepin....she looked like a dream, a happy dream that Arnav Singh Raizada had never even dared to dream.