Chapter 2
The Pride of Savitri Swaroop Khurana
(1980...)
(Khurana Mansion...)
Savitri Swaroop Khurana was a proud woman. She knew how to keep her head high. She could care, adore, even love, provided the object of her affection met her standards. But once she decided to care, adore or love, she gave her hundred percent to those emotions. Daughter of an upper class landlord, she was raised to regard pride as the most valuable possesion a human could posses. But not everyone was worthy of cultivating pride. It came to people with illustrious lineage and exalted status in society. And this was the single factor that made her accept Chaudhary Ajaipal Singh Khurana as her husband.
Ajaipal Singh Khurana, the only son of a noble landlord, but orphaned at a very young age. His fields depressed him, reminded him of his loss and drove him away to Army. His relatives descended down on the properties left in their care like vultures and squuezed every benefit available from the Khurana name. Duty bound by the blood that ran in his veins, such degree disrespect could not be tolerated and he came back to Punjab to find lands left barren with neglect. A quiet man by nature, sheer will and determination became his tools to restore his family name.
His name caught the attention of Savitri's father, who came to be believe that the young turk was the perfect choice for his adored daughter. There was a promise of unequalled success in his calm manner and silent resolve. And Savitri Swaroop Dhanjal became Savitri Swaroop Khurana, wife of one of the most affluent landlords of Chandigarh.
Savitri, sitting opposite to her husband, looked over her brood pouring in as they came to settle at the dining table.
"Sat Sri Akal Darjee, Sat Sri Akal Chaiyyi* ji"
Nayantara, her eldest child. She was all Savitri has hoped she would be. Elegant stature, graceful manners and dignified bearings. And her husband was her equal in each of these virtues. In addition he also possesed an easy charm which endeared him to one and all.
"Paerri paono Darjee." Devender Rajgir bent down to take blessings of his father-in-law.
"Jiyunde raho*," Darjee blessed him in return.
"Chaiyyi ji," Dev spoke as he bend down to take her blessings, "is it something special today? Or do you look more beautiful with every passing day."
"Tussi mazak karna chadd do Dev ji."
"I only say the truth Chaiyyi ji," he chuckled taking his seat at the left of Darjee, with Nayantara taking the seat second seat to Darjee's right.
"Dev and change. That would be news," came a caustic voice.
Her third born, Sashi. A slight dissapointment as she possessed not pride but vanity. Savitri had sighed good riddance when she was married and no longer remained her responsibility. She was conveniently settled in her marriage with absence of a mother-in-law and a hen-pecked husband. Savitri sectrely wished that a strong mother-in-law was one presence that had graced Sashi's life. The girl needed to learn to control her tongue.
"Sashi...", Savitri began sternly...
"Sasha!! Call me Sasha, Mummyji. How many times I have told everyone of you not to call me with that old-fashioned name," she ended with a sulk.
Romesh quitely took his blessing from both his in-laws and was proceeding to sit next to Dev as Sasha let out in her shrill voice. "Not there Romeo!! Sit next to Darjee on the right..."
"Sashi, that seat does not belong to him. You very well know that." Darjee's voice shut her up instantly.
Frightened, but foolishly undeterred she mumbled, "But he is the son-in-law of the family too..."
Fearing her husband's anger Savitri hastened to difuse the tension that Sasha reveled in creating, "Romesh ji, please sit here," pointing towards her left, "I too should get a chance to serve my son-in-law." She gave a warning glance to Sasha to stay silent as Romesh meekly complied, embarrased at being the centre of the argument.
"Here comes rest of the kids." Nayantara quipped diverting the topic. The table was instantly surrounded with cheerful voices as the younger Khuranas poured in.
Sitting next to Sashi, Savitri encountered another dissappointment of her motherhood. Tisha. An air-headed beauty who sadly sought Sashi as her role model. Her choice of inspiration had long before made Savitri give up on her case.
Her twins, Yash and Amrit, were her pride and joy. It was the birth of the twins that had truly turned the fate of their family wealth, when Chaudhary Khurana's success translated to power in agricultral society and local political circles.
Yash Singh Khurana, sitting at her immdeiate right, was her favorite son. The boy stole her heart with his charms, smiles and open adoration he held for her. His wish was her command. For his happiness she always turned a blind eye to his spendthrift ways, partying and oft whispered rumors about girls. The boy did posses a heart of gold, a friend in need, and that made her believe that once the youth trancends to maturity he would sober up and be more responsible.
Amrit, though not a head turner, possessed a wise head on her being. The quite, silent, obedient daughter. She never questioned, asked or sought. And ideal daughter in Savitri's eyes.
Adored by her eldest brother to limits, Baby was yet to reach the same level of appreciation in her eyes as Nayantara and Amrit held. She was way too much spirited for Savitri's liking. Being docile was not an easy task for her. Spoiled by her eldest brother too much. He and his modern ideas. Even her name was of his choosing. Iqbal. It sounds more like a boy's name. But with his father's support, she had had least say in this matter.
Sitting next to javai jee, was her last born. Vikrant Singh Khurana. He resembled her in many ways. He carried pride as his right even though he was mere thirteen years of age. He expected the best to come his way. Just like Him. He aspired to be like Him too, in fact even more so. But he did not wish to do so out of inspiration. It was out of competition. Everything was a match he had to win against his eldest brother. Only he was still way behind in all respects to ever gain that win. But compete he would. And she gave in to shim and fancy of his. She could never refuse him his wishes.
For that matter Savitri Swaroop Khurana could never refuse any son for her's anything. Sons were the pride of any family. They took the family name forward. They brought society's respect for a woman who has borne them. With three sons of her own, her five daughters were never questioned at all.
This is how Savitri Swaroop Khurana saw and preceived her life and her children. Nothing could change her opinion about it. Nobody could dare challenge her opions without it.
Except him. Maan Singh Khurana.
Her second-born but eldest son. The fact that he was her eldest son always diffused the anger that would rise at his more than obvious attempts to rebel against her dictates. But the emotion remainded simpering beneath all the maternal love she had for him. Often the anger turned to dissappointment and resentment, wishing for him to be a lesser man than he was. We have name, fame, wealth. It warrants a certain amount of attention. It's his father fault to allow independent thinking in him. It was my mistake to let the father-son indulge in all these waste notions of theirs. Logic!! Reasoning!! Education!! Shunning the society norms we live in. They lived in a bubble of their own principles refusing to budge even an inch in any direction.
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