"Nani, aap jaiye" Anjali said, not meeting her grandmother's eyes. "Hum yahin rukthe hain"
Nani, whose hand had been on the door, paused and turned back.
"Bitiya, aap itni himmat karke yihan tak aayi hain, ab dheeraj mat khoiye" Nani said, placing a hand on Anjali's knees. "Aur fir agar aap Chotey ke byah pe nahi aayi toh zindagi bhar ee baat ka afsos rahega"
Anjali knew that her grandmother was right. She would regret it for the rest of her life if she wasn't at Chotey's wedding. As it is, she felt terrible that instead of the opulent affair she had planned, the wedding was happening here at the temple on such a small scale.
And yet, she couldn't bring herself to get out of the car.
When Akash had informed them about the ceremony at dinner last night, Nani had been the first to ask if they could attend. Ignoring Dadi's look of disapproval, Nani had said that despite what had happened between them, she couldn't bear not being at Chotey's wedding.
The rest of the family was divided over the issue. There was no question of Dadi attending while Akash and Payal were heading for the Gupta House first thing in the morning to help with preparations. NK bhai was seeing to some arrangements at the temple and Mami kept changing her mind about going every hour an hour, leaving Anjali in turmoil.
She hadn't slept all night, Chotey's words playing in her mind over and over.
"It all comes down to this Di" he'd said, "It's my word against his"
Why did he have to say that? Anjali thought angrily.
After so much strife, she had resigned herself to the fact that there had been some sort of misunderstanding between Chotey, Khushiji and Shyamji.
Why did he have to bring it up again, this time pricking a hole straight into her bubble and sowing seeds of doubt?
It was so unfair, she thought, especially since it was Chotey who had built that bubble of security around her.
'It's my word against his'.
Chotey had no reason to lie to her, unless of course Shyamji was right in suspecting that Khushiji was influencing him. That raised the question of why Khushiji would do something like that. Shyamji believed that having set her sights on him and her advances spurned, she was trying to turn the tables. That would have made complete sense if Anjali hadn't known Khushiji. But knowing her, her strength of character and above all her love for Chotey, it was unthinkable.
That left her with another impossible option, that Shyamji was lying. Of course, if she took Chotey's words to be true, he had every reason to lie to her. But it hurt too much to even consider that.
No, Anjali thought, no one could be that unlucky in love.
"Hume bhi chalna chahiye Rani Sahiba" Shyamji had said at breakfast that day, "Jo hua voh sab ek taraf hai, bhai aakhir humare saale sahab ki shaadi hai"
Anjali's reflex had been to wonder why he really wanted to go, to attend Chotey's wedding or to see Khushiji?
She felt dirty, disgusted with herself for having such thoughts and angry with Chotey for planting them in her mind but she couldn't help it anymore.
She'd curtly told Shyamji that it would be inappropriate for him to attend in any case and that she would go with Nani and Mami.
There had been an unmistakable flash of anger in his eyes but before anyone else could notice, it was gone and in its place was a contrite expression.
Of course Rani Sahiba was right, he'd said. He didn't want to be the cause of any further friction and if she didn't want him there, he would certainly not go.
Anjali had wanted to scream, and keep screaming until someone told her the truth.
"Chaliye bitiya" Nani said, nodding encouragingly.
Anjali followed her grandmother out of the car, taking a deep breath.
Instinct had directed her to the temple with the hint of answers even if they were, at the moment, hazy at best.
Of course, she thought as she climbed the steps to the temple, there was still the issue of whether Chotey would even allow them to attend.
It was a small mandap, the four pillars formed by earthen pots stacked one on top of the other in alternating colours of red and green. Curtains of gossamer in pale gold were held in place with carefully arranged flowers and at the center was the havan kund. A beautiful rangoli design adorned the entrance.
Anjali found herself sighing at the incredibly romantic effect created by this minimalistic mandap in the twilight.
She spotted NK bhai first, directing an orderly with the last of the flower decorations and Akash and Buaji in deep conversation with Panditji to one side of the mandap.
There were chatais placed on three sides and a few guests were already seated. The main mandir crowd was thinning even as some of them lingered to observe the proceedings.
Her eyes finally found Chotey who was standing to one side and checking his watch impatiently.
For an instant, Anjali thought she was seeing her father and an old, forgotten scar in her heart ached painfully reminding her of its existence. But when she blinked, it was Chotey again.
Of course, he wasn't wearing the sherwani she had chosen for him. It was probably lying at home in the wardrobe, amidst all the other things he'd left behind.
He was dressed in a maroon kurta with deep blue resham work and matching chudidar pants. It was a more sober outfit but he managed to look resplendent nonetheless.
Anjali saw him glance up, his eyes widening.
"Chotey!" Nani cried, hurrying to his side.
He looked momentarily dazed when Nani hugged him, completely overcome. Feeling like a coward, Anjali tried to hide behind her grandmother.
"Kaisan hai aap?" Nani asked, raising a hand to his cheek as she took in his form slowly.
"I'm fine Nani, aap kaisi hain?" Chotey said, hugging her back.
"Chotey, hum jaanath hai ki aap humse naraaz hai lekin hum aapka byah dekhe khatir aaye hai" Nani said, taking his hand in hers. "Kya hum yihan rukh sakath hai?"
He looked highly disconcerted.
Although Nani had a compassionate soul, she didn't often succumb to tears. But after all that she had been through in her life, perhaps this was just one time too many.
"Of course Nani" he said, covering her hands with his. "Aap aise kyun pooch rahi hain?"
Nani didn't reply, she was struggling to stop her sobs.
Putting his arm around her comfortingly, Chotey looked up and said, "Hi Di, kaisi hain aap?"
"Hum theek hai Chotey" Anjali said, unable to look him in the eye.
They stood awkwardly for a few seconds while Nani composed herself before Buaji appeared, welcoming them with folded hands.
"Arey Payaliya, zara oo nimbu paani leike aana" she said, gesturing for them to take a seat. "Aaiye, Nandkishore"
Chotey himself led Nani to sit in the front row, continuously reassuring her that he was glad to see them. The only reason he left home, he said, was because they hadn't accepted Khushi. And if they had put it behind them long enough to come to the wedding, they were most welcome.
He promised that even though he wouldn't come back home, it didn't mean he had cut off ties with them. They were always welcome, he said, in his life and his home.
He looked at Anjali too, nodding to indicate that the words were meant for her as well.
He was called away by the Panditji shortly, leaving Anjali to ponder over what it had all come to.
She watched as he was asked to sit in the mandap while Panditji began reading a few preliminary mantras.
Disturbed by how Chotey had reminded her of their father, Anjali slowly began to see the hidden flaw in their relationship. As a by product of losing their parents so early, Chotey had come to think of her more as a mother than a sister. He often told her that he saw their mother in Anjali and she had always laughed it off, feeling vaguely proud because their mother had been a most wonderful woman.
And perhaps at some level, despite being older, she had turned to him for refuge as one might with a father.
The only problem with this arrangement was that their relationship as brother and sister had disintegrated. Had they been like any other siblings, fights and disagreements would have been almost mundane. But stuck in this warp, surfacing resentment had left in its wake awkwardness in place of affections.
Anjali was drawn back to the present when on Panditji's instructions Akash hurried to the small room by the side of the temple to call the bride.
A musician began to play the shehnai from one corner of the temple as a small group appeared from the room and made their way to the mandap.
Everyone stood up to watch and flanked by Garima Aunty on one side and Payalji on the other, Anjali's eyes finally landed on Khushiji.
To say she looked exquisite would have been an understatement.
Her lehenga choli was simple in itself, off-white with golden bhuttas. But over it were draped two net dupattas with heavy zardozi work, a crimson one over her right shoulder and a green one with little bells covering her head.
She wore simple jewelry and Anjali recognised the red and orange bangles on her wrists that didn't match the rest of her outfit.
Flawless skin with minimal makeup completed her look and if Anjali found herself envying Khushiji for her perfection even momentarily, the thought vanished when she saw the smile of wonder forming on her face when she spotted them.
"Di!" she cried, over the sound of the shehnai. "Naniji!"
And if the women beside her hadn't restrained her, Anjali was sure Khushiji would have run into their arms.
Smiling at the them through the moisture in her eyes, Khushiji allowed herself to be led towards the mandap.
Anjali turned back to Chotey and if Khushiji had been a sight to behold, the expression on his face was one she wouldn't forget all her life. If there ever was a man in love, she thought.
At first, he just stared as though scared that blinking might make the vision before him disappear. A slow smile split his features and Anjali was sure she was the only one to notice the tiny tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he struggled to catch a breath.
He held out his hand and helped her step into the mandap.
They were handed a varmala each and Anjali found herself giggling inspite of herself when Akash lifted Chotey to prevent Khushiji from garlanding him.
"Jijaji!" Khushiji cried, half complaining and half laughing.
She slipped the garland around Chotey when Akash let him down as the crowd broke into applause. Buaji and Payalji tried to lift Khushiji out of the way too but Chotey was too tall for them and grinning, he managed to put the garland around her with ease.
NK bhai was going crazy with his camera, barely allowing the photographer space to do his job.
Instructing the couple to sit, Panditji began his mantras again. Chotey whispered something in Khushiji's ears that lit her face with the brightest shade of pink even as she struggled to conceal her smile for the sake of propriety.
Anjali couldn't help remembering that she had blushed likewise when Shyamji had leaned in to tell her that he was the luckiest man in the world to have found her, on the day of their own wedding.
She watched Chotey accept the silver sindhoor box from Panditji and take a pinch from it. Turning to his right, he filled the gap in the mid-partition of Khushiji's hair with the bright vermilion powder marking her as his, as a married woman.
Anjali watched through a haze of tears as he then tied the sacred mangalsutra around Khushiji's neck and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nani dabbing her eyes too.
"Ab gath bandhan baandne ka samai hai" Panditji said, "Kya dulhe ki koi behen hai?"
Anjali felt all eyes in the gathering turn towards her. She heard Khushiji inform Panditji that the dulha did indeed have a sister.
But Anjali stood frozen in her place until Chotey finally looked up and meeting her gaze, nodded.
Her feet carried her forward and coming up behind the couple, she crouched down.
Fighting the impulse to hug them both and never let go, she tied the sacred knot.
Khushiji was smiling at her, sniffing away her tears while Chotey watched her with an inscrutable expression.
Anjali stood back as the Panditji instructed them to stand for the pheras.
She watched as Chotey took the lead first.
With every step they took Anjali felt her glass bubble come shattering down around her. She had been the first to recognize the look of adoration in Khushiji's eyes nearly a year ago and today watching her step in front of her husband for the remaining pheras, Anjali could see that it had evolved into devotion. She became more and more convinced that neither Chotey nor Khushiji had ever loved another.
There was simply no question of her having ever been interested in Shyamji and where did that leave her?
Every single unexplained absence, every unanswered phone call, the endless days of waiting for him and all the time she'd spent praying for him, it hit her like a physical force and Anjali shrank back in horror.
"Ab vivaah sampan hua" Panditji declared, instructing the couple to take blessings from the elders in the family.
Anjali barely heard NK bhai and Akash as they cheered loudly and Buaji who was already inviting the guests home for dinner.
"Nani, hum neeche car me intezaar karthe hain" Anjali whispered to her grandmother, hurrying away before she could object.
Walking as fast as her broken leg could carry her, Anjali made her way out of the temple with one last look at the newlyweds.
She found herself wishing only the best for them, a lifetime of love and happiness. A life without any doubts and betrayals, a life unlike hers.
When she reached the car park, she found that the driver had followed her down and unlocked the car door for her.
She climbed into the backseat, allowing the door to slam shut behind her.
Chanting a prayer to Devi Maiya, Anjali rocked back and forth, taking deep breaths to calm herself.
Don't faint now, she told herself. You can't afford to be weak anymore.
She wanted answers, she needed them and if no one was going to give it to her, she would find them for herself.
It's my word against his, Chotey had said and Anjali had to know whose word was true.
She wiped away her tears with particular fierceness as something a friend had mentioned came back to her.
A detective, a private detective. Her friend had hired a private detective to trail her husband whom she suspected of having an affair.
Breathing deeply to dispel her revulsion at the very thought, Anjali decided that there was no other way.
She couldn't go on living like this, with this predicament.
She would need help, Anjali decided and her first thought was NK bhai. But she dismissed the idea at once, he was too close to Khushiji and wouldn't be objective. Plus she couldn't risk Shyamji or anyone in the family finding out.
No, it would have to be someone else. Someone trustworthy but from outside the family.
In her feverish state, Anjali was drawing a blank.
And then she heard voices coming from outside.
"Mohan kaka! Pranam" said a vaguely familiar male voice. "Aap yahan kya kar rahe hai?"
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