And then there was one
'Abhi, wake up! Abhee-ee ... wake up!! Abhi!' ... she shook him, then knelt on the bed beside him and kissed his ear. Hmmm ... see! He hadn't turn into a frog! Goodness! She had been around this man too long! Even his humor was beginning to rub off on her! He was sound asleep in his pajamas, his torso bare. This is how he usually 'undressed' for bed.
She shook him a little harder, coaxing him to awaken.
'Hunh??! Wha??!! Whazzup?!!', he said deliriously as he woke up lifting himself into a sitting position.
'Dinner's ready. Mum wants us downstairs. C'mon, hurry up!'
'Oh! OK! Hand me a clean kurta, wouldya?'. She picked one from the armoire and threw it to him, then walked out to go downstairs. He caught it mid air and put it on, yawning and stretching to shake off the sleep. He swung his legs around and snuck his feet into a pair of leather chappals, then shuffled downstairs still not fully awake. The trip to Gangtok had been unforgettable but enervating!
Mili, Simi, and his minlaw were finishing off laying the table. Simi called to her Papa-ji. The five sat around and enjoyed another delicious meal at the Sethis. Well ... mostly enjoyed. Mili continued to be eerily silent and in between the knowing glances exchanged between the remaining four, they tried to engage her in conversation. Her bruises had disappeared and the timely intervention with her broken nose had left her physically unscathed - relatively speaking. Her rib and nose were healing fine. There had been such confusion, despair, then rage when she told them about the identity of the perpetrator. According to her, one might say. There was no evidence of Nakul's involvement. It was her word against his. That was the popular scuttlebutt, but nary a Sethi believed it ... not even Neetu, who, over the months since her marriage last November, had taken a dislike to her binlaw .. what patent hogwash!! It was preposterous to think that Mili would be fabricating a tale such as this! Utterly and irrevocably preposterous!!! What would be her motivation anyhow??!! And yet, they were seemingly powerless in the absence of incriminating evidence.
Ordinarily, Simi would have helped put things away and help clean up, but her mother insisted they get some rest. Manju's transformation towards her older daughter and sinlaw had been slow but inexorable. To the point that if you hadn't known, you would have thought she had raised Abhi from infancy as a most beloved son!
She broached the assault issue with Abhi after dinner when they were alone upstairs. Every possible option had to be exercised for justice to be done. He needed to speak with his mother first, then, in turn, her cousin Shiv Anand, the Delhi Police Commissioner. He was several steps ahead of her. There was that to be taken care of, a new job to be found, and a place of their own ... in that order.
They snuggled up in bed, watching some inane program on TV, then their conversation drifted to reminiscing about the Sikkim trip and other such incidents ... like the Agra one! The only couple to have a honeymoon precede the wedding! She spoke fondly of their wedding, laying her head on his chest, occasionally gazing up at him. The TV blathered on in the background.
'Tell me again ... you know ... the part about how your heart stopped when you saw me walk into the court house ... in that gorgeous outfit'
'GROAN!! Not again??!! You needn't worry, Mrs. T., all this jogging of my memory ... I WILL remember every last detail to relate to your grandchildren ... oh ... did I ever tell you ... uh ... I mean ... when it is that you look your ABSOLUTE best? No?! ...Well ... you look your 'bestest' without an outfit of any sort!'. There he was, joshing with her ... in that inimitable habit of his!
'Sure hope you'll be all grown up by the time grandkids roll around! Can't stop with all your joking .. right?.Cannot just do what you're asked? Right?!'
'Uh ... no ... but if you're going to have me expend all that energy ... beating that dead horse ... AGAIN ... I need to be replenished, so you can just come on along with me to the Kulfi-vala on the corner! I'm going to miss that when we move out'.
Off to the kulfi-vala it was. Holding hands. It was a balmy night and rain was forecast for tomorrow, so a cooling breeze had also picked up.
They had returned from the Agra trip where the second fateful night helped banish any of that perniciously creeping ambivalence in her mind. They were meant to be together, physically and emotionally. She had never felt so whole before. Her mother and his father would continue to be unrelenting and Neetu was to be wed at almost the start of the 'wedding season' in early November. Very likely, it would be best if they married in advance so as to snuff out any spurious gossip that would tarnish that grand affair.
Theirs had to be subdued not just for 'obvious' reasons but also because each shied away from things too ostentatious. Weddings these days were lavish to the point of lunacy, and the end result, inevitably, was a circus - without the corresponding entertainment value! Schizophrenia of the worst kind! Sure, the likes of Mittal could afford the $30M for his daughter's wedding at Versailles, flying in - at least - the glitterati (almost never the 'literati') from around the globe, but that did not need to be the standard to aspire to!
They would counsel with the respective supportive parent about a court wedding followed by a nice reception for the 'select few'. No one else needed to be consulted. Marching to the tune of a superstitious Hindu clergy was unthinkable. Most of the world married without benefit of their 'knowledge' about the alignment of the sun, the moon, and the stars, not to mention the planets of the solar system. Some cultures even allowed for polygamy (polyandry a largely defunct tradition), with little ill effect. Early September would be the most ideal. That gave them more than enough time to take care of the bureaucratic paper work, make arrangements for the reception, and allow for a modest gap before Neetu's wedding. He had also made arrangements to move in with his friend at the TV station until their own personal place could be found. That was when the offer from Nakul came in. All was in place! He had a job. He had a home. He was ready for a wife.
Only well-wishing family and friends were to be invited. This, over the objections of Anusha Taneja who wanted it to be a semi-lavish affair. No, that was a criminal waste of money. Money he and Simi did not have. She was asked to spend only an amount that would be 'tasteful'. Any 'excess' would have to go to charity. Abhi, for all his having been born with the proverbial silver spoon, was born with the spoon full of social conscience. Fund raising for charity had been one of his many fortes through college. Such a stance, therefore, was perfectly in keeping with his character. Simi did not want to follow fashion with the diamond ring; a wedding band would be amply sufficient. The thought of a trousseau was laughable. Besides, there was Neetu's wedding expense to think of. Nor did she wish to be burdened with gifts from his side of the family.
Anusha would not be that easily brow-beaten! The venue was to be of her choosing and to her liking and Abhi was bound to respect her wishes at least to that extent! She loved the Taj Mahal hotel in Delhi and asked for a tour of their facilities - what a wonderful follow up to the earlier overture of the Agra trip! She opted for a terrace reception. The weather at that time of year would be perfect for the soiree. She reserved 2 suites to allow close family to arrive before the event as a place to change or put up one's feet. Certainly, Simi and Abhi would need that.
Shopping for her dresses was stressful and exhilarating all at the same time. This was the one extravagance she would permit her parents and was thankful that she wasn't expected to shop at the family store. Her two sisters were dying to help her choose. She favored the taste of her friend and colleague Lalita. Her's was the first recommendation she would seek and asked if she might have time to come along. Lalita was flattered and delighted! To the Meera& Muzzaffar Ali boutique in Saket all four dizzy women would head out.
She absolutely swooned when she saw the selection. It wasn't difficult to gravitate towards her dresses. For the morning wedding she chose a churidar suit, of which the top looked like someone had played holi in a very deliberate way. The bodice was multicolored with vertical stripes in a halter style with just enough to cusp her back - revealing it to well below her shoulder blades. The slit in the front was very elegantly deep to about mid-sternum. The round neckline sported a short standup collar. But the skirt! Oh the skirt! From the upper waist - where the bodice ended - to well below her shins was a chiffon riot of orange, yellow, fuschia, blue, purple, green, in tie-die. It seemed like there was miles of yardage that would flow and dance as she walked. The coup the grace was the 2 huge roses on the seam between the bodice and skirt. Two enormous roses in the same tie-die fabric! There was an accompanying dupatta. The most divine diaphanous rose-lilac with a thin woven silver border about 2 inches wide. (http://www.hamaraphotos.com/displayfullimage_336584_1.html)
She chose a sari for the reception. Courtesy of Anusha - who did not care about the expense. It looked like stripes, halter necks, chiffon, and rich jewel tones were what they were doing this year. A striped silk blouse in grey and silver with a floral motif in pink and yellow sprinkled randomly on the body of the fabric. The chiffon sari was a variegated pink transitioning from an almost baby pink to the hottest fuschia imaginable. It appeared to have a bright orange running through it as well. The almost 4 inch, plain, silver gota border made it absolutely ethereal. Absolutely heavenly! Absolutely sublime! (http://www.hamaraphotos.com/displayfullimage_336590_1.html)
She would have her styled in a loose languid hairdo and wear fresh roses for both events.
Neetu could not understand what she was thinking! Who would notice her at the events?! Boy, most of the other women would outshine her ... hands down! She was getting married not going out for a cocktail party - this from someone who wouldn't have known a cocktail from tomato juice!!! Anything other than a Manish Malhotra or Vikram Phadnis outfit was unthinkable!! Well ... she wasn't a young Neetu, would not spend her or his parents' money with abandon, and certainly wanted reuse out of the garments. Besides, at the reception, Anusha was insistent upon her wearing the jewels specially ordered from the Delhi branch of Jaipur's 'Gem Palace'! If that wasn't the epitome of opulence, she did not know what was! This was beginning to be far more overwhelming already! Please, could everyone just lay off for a bit?!
It was sad, that while her own mother would be persuaded to attend the 'festivities' - such as they were - Mr. Taneja and Anita would have nothing to do with it. He even arranged for a business meeting in Singapore and took his daughter along. It was time for one of her bi-annual shopping trips anyways. So, Taneja Mahal was available for that bare minimum of fun-filled events typical of Punjabi weddings. Similarly, 12/24 was the site of the Sangeet ceremony, her mehendi, the havan followed by her Mama-ji officiating over the wearing of the chooda and kaleeras (to that extent of a bride she wanted to be). The irrepressible Dolly Chaachi, ditzy as she was, could really light up an event! Anuj the very model of responsibility. Neetu and Mili at their fun loving best!
It was a lovely sunny day. Abhi wore a sedate version of an Arjun Khanna outfit. Cream colored silk achkan lined in a blue silk over a blue silk kurta with a woven buti motif. Silk churidar pajama and juttis finished off his ensemble. None of that compared to the brilliance of his smile though! He did not wish to outdo the bride at the reception, so it was a somber but very elegant black achkan, cream silk pajamas, and black juttis. Never mind his mother's flowing heart at seeing her sweet, lovely boy so adorned, Simi was stunned into an even more silent version of herself until life reminded her that such a look was not in keeping with the occasion! Friends and family from both sides participated along with the assortment of cousins who were not away being schooled. The Dagars were there in full force as well. Nakul the very model of good-will and composure. There were NO hard feelings. Oh no. None at all! The only thing the girls of the Sethi family missed was the reaping of huge profits in exchange for Abhi's shoes!! That was simply too unfair!!
Reflecting thus, they had walked over to the neigborhood park, sucking their kulfis until none was left. It was lovely outdoors, so they sat on a bench. She had put her feet up and was leaning against him. They sat huddled thus. She felt a warmth suffuse her body as she snuggled even closer.
This was the second time there had been binary fusion. Two people were as one.
Disclaimer: While I have long known, recognized and loved Muzaffar Ali's aesthetics (fully played out in a TV serial on Wajid Ali Shah) and hope one day to wear some of his and wife's stuff, the other 'designers' I know only through some of the 'research' I did for this piece.
Fan Fictions
