Rituals
He wouldn't have noticed that today was a special day had he not woken up to silence. Like every other day, Pragya had woken up long before him but instead of waking him with the sounds of her pooja, she had left him to an oppressive silence. She must have decided to do pooja with the rest of the family in the hall. So he overslept. By the time he managed to come downstairs the plates had been cleared and the hall was empty except for an overworked Robin who was trying to festoon the banisters with tinsel.
"Ay Robin, what are you up to? Couldn't you find anyone else for this work?"
"They're all busy with preparations sir. We couldn't hire too many other workers on a festival and Dadiji wants everything done as soon as possible."
Yet another function. Ever since he had gotten married the number of functions seemed to have ballooned, each one another opportunity for them to perpetuate the farce. His face twisted in regret. Now the ugly farce had an even uglier plot twist.
"Happy Karwa Chauth, darling." Two sinewy arms wrapped themselves around his waist.
He jerked out of his thoughts only to catch sight of his wife's stricken face. She was holding a loaded pooja thali but her hands didn't even waver. Instead she slipped on that stoic mask he so hated and determinedly walked towards the God's room.
He could feel his ex's self-satisfied smirk behind him. He struggled out of her vice grip.
"Why? Aren't you happy to see me?" She produced the same pout she did for commercials. Unfortunately, her drunken confession that she had almost been responsible for his mother-in-law's death had put quite the damper on his ardour. The subsequent discovery that she had framed Pragya for Purab's elopement had cemented his decision to cut all ties with her.
"What are you doing here Tanu? Karwa Chauth is only for family." His harsh words had the predicted effect on her expression. Good.
"I invited her bhai." Aliya's clear voice rang out in the marble hall.
Abhi sighed in defeat. He would do anything for her happiness. Especially when she had been left at the altar by his former best friend. Unfortunately, her happiness included having his murderous ex around. And since he hated calling Mehra Mansion "his house", he was forced to allow her to hang around.
And Pragya had understood. Like she always did. When he went up to her shame-faced after the realized his girlfriend's treachery, she only smiled beatifically and said "I am just happy that you realized the truth." And then she had gazed up at him with the worshipful look she always gave him nowadays. And he had turned his face away in shame.
"My girlfriend could have caused your mother's death!" He wanted to shout. He wanted to shake her and ask, "Why aren't you angry with me!" But she had put him so high on a pedestal that the distance between them was too great. It was impossible to reach across to her.
So his guilt grew. It ate away at his thoughts and isolated him from the rest of the world. So much that he hadn't even realised today was Karwa Chauth. He was happier in the comforting din of his recording studio rather than the deafening silence in the bedroom. He even almost stopped bantering with her, and without that, they didn't know how to communicate with each other.
How was she doing it? Here had ruined a girl's life and she couldn't even bring herself to show anger at him. Was it that she had so internalized their roles as "husband" and "wife" and felt that a wife shouldn't be angry with her husband? Or, even worse, had she resigned herself so completely to her fate that she didn't think it was useful to be angry anymore?
"Abhi? What are you doing standing here? Go help decorate the house beta, the guests are arriving this evening."
"What guests, dadi?"
"Arre, the guests for Karwa Chauth of course! We have to do Pragya's first fast-breaking in a grand way, no?"
Great. More rituals. More farce. "Dadi, is this really necessary? Let's have a quiet festival for a change?"
"Nonsense!" His grandmother looked outraged. "My poor bahu is going all day without even a drop of water and you're opposed to hanging some garlands on the stairs? What kind of husband are you?"
Her words were like tiny knives twisting in his stomach. What kind of husband was he? The kind of husband who married an innocent girl out of revenge. The kind of husband whose wife found him in the arms of his evil ex-girlfriend. The kind of "husband" who had just polished off nutella sandwiches while his "wife" starved herself.
He had to stop her. He had to stop her from performing rituals for a marriage that didn't exist. Otherwise it would hurt both of them.
She wasn't hard to find. Of course she was in the prayer room, dutifully tending to an oil lamp, looking impossibly delicate in the no doubt new sari dadi had gifted her. He had spent so many months he had spent deriding her looks that when the curtain of hate had finally lifted, he was shocked that she was actually quite pretty. Especially now with her narrow waist bathed in the glow of the diya. Stop thinking like that Abhi! This is a fake marriage. And her waist is probably so thin because she's always fasting for you!
"Eyy Chashmish, what is this new diet you're trying?" Damn! Somehow he couldn't turn the banter off in her prescence.
"Finally made the time to talk to me, have you?"
I suppose I deserved that. Unable to face her, he hadn't really spoken to her in weeks. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Why are you doing all of this?" he vaguely indicated the room. "Why are you doing all the Karwa Chauth rituals when...when things are like this between us."
She glanced up at him and suddenly the small space felt even more claustrophobic. "As long as your kumkum is on my forehead, I will fulfil all my duties of being a wife." All her duties? Interesting...His male monkey mind was getting away with him again while she was still talking. "I remember my marriage vows, at least," she finished coldly.
So she was mad at him about the Tanu incident. Good - some feeling was better than eternal acceptance. "Pragya, it's not like that, Aliya invited her and she sprang out of nowhere!" She threw him a withering look. "Anyway, you have to stop! I can't bear to see you fasting for my long life when I've wronged you so much!" He grabbed the nearest laddoo and thrust it in her face, "here, have this."
She turned her head away. "Regardless of how we got here, we're married. Marriage comes with its set of responsibilities, and I'm determined to fulfil them. It's not about me or you or your guilt. And the sooner you realise that the better." She swept out of the pooja room, taking the pooja thali with her.
"It's not about you or me or your guilt."
Her words rang in his mind long after the small room turned cold in her absence.
"Abhi, will I have to keep chasing you the whole day! Come help me out, I'm giving Pragya off today!" Indu daasi bustled into the room, thankfully breaking him free of his thoughts.
After that, he had no time to think as he was made to run from one end of the house to another by the three old ladies. He didn't get to see Pragya for the rest of the day either, for which he was grateful. Her lecture had, for once, worked on him and put his thoughts in turmoil.
But you can only distract yourself with dupattas and laddoo arrangements for so long and soon Dadi called him to watch the pooja (from a distance of course). And for some reason, instead of making a fuss as he had for all the other rituals (and boy were there a lot of them!) he felt a frisson of interest this time. "Daasi, do you...do you mind explaining to me what is happening?" He asked tentatively, embarrassed by the knowing smirk on her face.
"Glad you're suddenly showing so much interest beta," Indua Daasi patted him on the chest. "Right now they are sharing the story of Karwa Chauth."
As he leaned in to hear the story of the young woman who had failed at her fast and consequently almost lost her husband, Abhi caught sight of her. She looked enraptured as Dadi narrated the story, tearing up as the story neared its climax. What is she thinking? Was she just moved by the story or was she thinking of their "bond" and finding it lacking?
All too soon Dadi finished the narration and it was time for them to break the fast.
Jai Ambe Gauri
Jai Shyaamaa Gauri
Nishadina tumako dhyaavata
Hari Brahma Shivaji
[Glory to you, O divine Mother Gauri, glory to you, O Parvati, who are so rich in maiden grace, the object of daily meditation by Vishnu, Brahma and Shiva!]
[On your forehead is a resplendent mark of vermilion along with a mark of musk (signifying good luck). Your twin eyes are bright and your face is as beautiful as the moon.]
Pragya's face was illuminated by the aarti as she approached him, the kumkum she held in such esteem, flaming against her pale skin.
"The moon! I see the moon!"
All the women turned to look out the window. She turned to look at him.
[Your body with a tinge of gold is splendidly dressed in red attire; on your throat lies a wreath of red blossoms just as beautiful as a necklace.]
Don't do this to me. Abhi screwed up his eyes. It was the first time he would have to face her since the morning. For some odd reason it was as though completing this fast would solidify their nebulous relationship beyond what he was ready for. He dreaded what he would see in her face - betrayal, anger or worse, indifference? Back when he used to banter with her continuously, he had hated her indifference to his jokes much more than the "bak-bak" he claimed to detest. But when he opened them again all he could see was tenderness.
[The four arms have adorned your persona, while the hand raised in benediction reveals your benign aspect. Those men and women who worship shall have all their cherished wishes ever fulfilled.]
She ignored his inner turmoil as finished the aarti and raised the sieve to the sky. The music built up to a crescendo as she turned it to look at him. Abhi staggered back from the force of her naked eyes. He just wasn't ready. Then she slowly bent down ... No! I can't do this anymore! He couldn't bear the thought of her touching his feet. Without thinking of their situation, or of the hundreds of people watching them, he pulled her up and into a desperate hug. He exhaled in relief as her softness hit the bulk of his chest. One hand curled over her slender waist and the other buried itself in her hair. He bent down until his lips were hidden in her tresses and finally asked her the questions that had been tormenting him all day.
"What are you doing? What have I even done for you? Why on earth do you care for me?"
"Because you gave my mother back her life when you saved Kumkum Bhagya. Because you make everybody I love smile. Because I feel more free when I'm with you than I ever have before. "
AN: Please let me know what you think!
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