CHAPTER
8 --PART TWO
"Di!!! DI!" The angry voice of her brother
roared out of the Raj-Prashadh Suite, and Anjali exchanged a mischievous look
with Naniji, and left her family to finish the details for the baraat as she walked to Chote's suite at
their remodeled Sheesh Mahal. The wedding tent had already been set up in the
expansive grounds, a beautifully decorated mandap
as the centerpiece of the lavish venue. Khushi's bridal party would arrive
and enter the grounds upto the tent, while the groom's baraat would proceed to meet them at the mandap from Sheesh Mahal itself. Everything was planned, and
prepared.
Now, there was one final tiny detail--and that would be dealing with the person currently bellowing for her like an
enraged bull. Anjali smiled to herself, as she entered her brother's huge
suite. There she found Chote glaring at
her like a crazy assassin in a bad B grade movie, as he pointed at the Maroon
sherwani and black trousers that had been laid out on his bed. "I told you both, that I'll wear the bespoke Tom Ford suit,
that I'll take the white Bentley. You
both agreed, you and your darling Khushi gave in to me, as you should. All week
long, there was no protest from either one of you, so clearly you both accepted
my decision. Now, my dear Di, tell me this--
Why. Is. This. Sherwani. Here.?
Where. Is. My. Suit.?
And, Anjali
Raizada--
Why. Is. There. A. F**king. White. Horse. Taking. A Dump. In. The.
Courtyard?"
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Khushi had been useless when it came to planning or helping out for her own
wedding. She had spent most of the week in Lukhnow on the phone with her
adoring husband, since they had not been allowed to see each other, and now she
was squirming like a five year old as an exasperated Payal tried to finish
dressing her. "Oof, Khushi, I will smudge the kajal if
you don't sit still!" Payal said for the third time as Khushi jumped up
to check on a new arrival, or greet another guest.
"Sorry Jiji, I'm just so excited to finally get to see..well, you know." Payal
smiled. She had always been very fond of Khushi, and had been very unhappy
while they had been apart. It had taken her a few weeks to mend fences at
Raizada house, where people were angry with her for knowing about Shyam, and
for not having revealed his true evil to at least her husband. But now that
Khushi would return, Payal was sure the pall of unhappiness and silence that
had invaded her sasuraal would be
lifted forever.
Though she had always been very reserved, not very expressive, Payal still knew
that she owed a great deal to this sister, and had tried, as much as she was
able, to help her volatile younger sibling over the past six days. The house,
the shopping, the invitations, the clothes and gifts-Payal had arrived to
Lukhnow soon after Khushi had, and Payal had taken over the wedding
preparations. It was her own idea to pool the resources of their little
community, to encourage everyone to participate in their own way, helping to
decorate the entire neighborhood for this, their most important, most famous
wedding.
Payal's efforts had borne fruit-today, the cameras and the media coverage of
LataBazar showed the unpretentious neighborhood in a lovely new light-every
house had been decorated with strings of lights and fragrant garlands. Fairy
lights and dias lit up the streets-new coats of paint, rangolis, flowers, colored
streamers, fireworks--no expense had been spared. Khushi's community had pooled
their money, and treated her wedding as if they were marrying off one of their
own. It warmed even the cynical news reporters who were filming and showing
this on live TV to realize that it was not just the Gupta's---it was also the
family's many well-wishers and neighbors who had come to take part in the
bidaai of their favorite daughter, their own Khushi.
But, of course it was the first glimpse of the bride that everyone was waiting
for, and when, at 6 PM, Khushi finally emerged from the Gupta household,
surrounded by her relatives, about to be taken to Sheesh Mahal in the
limousines that were parked outside her house, the gasp of appreciation was
almost audible. "Here," one reporter said to
the other, as they began to madly film the scene of Khushi's exit from the
Gupta house, "Here is what a bride is supposed to look
like."
Wearing a gold tissue dupatta bordered with crystal work and clad in a maroon
lehenga, heavily encrusted with Swarovski crystals, real pearls and gold thread
work, the bride shimmered like an otherworldly being, her long lustrous hair in
a simple braid, threaded with jasmine and a simple gold ribbon. The braid, the ribbon-this was a
nod to their first fated meeting, at a fashion show in Luhknow. Her simple look was a lovely reference to the beginning of their love-story--this the
millions of fascinated viewers watching the news were now quite aware of, but the
jewellery--that was a nod to the fact that she was now a Raizada princess.
The
reporters were enchanted by the layered necklaces of heavy gold work, rubies
and diamonds dazzling against Khushi's milky skin that shone against the elegant jhumkas, the tikki, the jhapta
across her hair and the heavy gold bracelets that covered her arms along with
the traditional red bridal bangles she wore.
All in all, a princess, indeed.
The princess then turned, and, in an action that was very unprincess-like,
proceeded to lift up her skirts as she raced across the courtyard, scattering
the reporters who were trying to get their shots. The reporters watched,
keeping a respectful distance as Khushi almost jumped into the arms of the old
man who was standing a little apart from everyone, watching his daughter being
filmed, watching the swarm of well wishers descend onto his little girl with
tears in his eyes.
"I wont go, Bau-ji--tell me to stay home with you and
Amma-ji, and I wont go. I know you wanted me to move on, Bau-ji-and I tried, I
really did. But I didn't know that he...he had already stolen my heart,
and then kept it with him all these months, did I Bau-ji? I didn't know
that. But you are my soul, Bau-ji. I'll manage without the heart, if you tell me not to go to him today." These words, whispered to him as Khushi nestled
in his arms, and heard only by him caused the tears to rain faster, as Shashi
Gupta cradled the upturned face of his angel, and kissed her on the forehead.
The tenderness of the moment caused a lot of people to wipe their eyes, and,
truth be told, this evening there would be a lot of loving calls to fathers made by the daughters watching this scene on their TV screens.
"No, Khushi. He was tested through a fire as well, betiya, like you were when
we left Delhi. He knows what he could have lost, and I know he will never take
a chance on facing this loss again. I am happy for you Khushi, and you both will
always have my blessing. All I wanted, ever, is your happiness. Seems to me you
found it again. In him. Go to him, Khushi. Make him as happy as I believe he
will make you." Shashi Gupta smiled, his expression that of a man who was sure, in his innermost heart, that the man he was giving his daughter to would truly be worthy of this rare and precious creature. After all Khushi was a woman who brought happiness to everyone and everything she touched.
The father's words were a benediction for the daughter, his own heart had
found peace at the glow of happiness that had suffused his little girl. The words brought peace to his daughter who could now, with no hindrance, no regret, go to the man who had waited so long for her return. The bridal party of family members and guests
took their places in the cars that had been brought for them, to take them to
Sheesh Mahal for the wedding. There were few tears, and much laughter now-after
all, it was time to give a daughter away, true, but they were getting a son in return, weren't
they?
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"Nanav! Nanav! They are on their way! Khushi bhabi looked...I
can't even tell you, I have no words. You'll see her soon. The channels just
covered the cars leaving Lata-Bazar, they should be here in less than 30
minutes...the roads have been cleared!"NK's voice boomed through the
corridor as Aakash struggled to zip up the cursing bridegroom's fitted sherwani. Kunal Roy leaned against the door,
lazily watching the brothers as they
cursed and fought as Arnav was dressed.
Instantly, Arnav stopped
informing Aakash exactly what kind of a bas***d he was, and focused on NK's
words. He broke into a soft smile, his hand going up almost instinctively, to
his heart, as Aakash took this golden chance and placed the paagri on his head
without any hindrance from his besotted Bhai. "You've
made me late, now I have to rush and shower before Payal gets here,"
grumbled Aakash, and darted for the exit before the paagri could be tossed at
him. The door closed behind him, leaving Kunal Roy, suddenly, all alone with
Arnav Singh Raizada.
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Edited by napstermonster - 11 years ago
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