Chapter 7 - A
Four months later...
Ayesha's call came just after lunch. "Arti! I think we are going to need you again. Do you think you can come this evening?"
Zoya's sister was helping their Ammi plan Zoya's wedding – when Zoya let them plan anything that is. Her parents had finally agreed to Zoya and Ahmed's wedding. The way Ahmed had dealt with Zoya during and after Arti's accident had finally convinced them that no one understood her better than him. While the happy couple were relieved, Zoya was now stressing everyone out by constantly changing her mind about each and everything for the actual ceremony. The nikaah was two months away and she had still not selected her dress, or let them finalize the guest list or the menu. Ammi was at the point where she was ready to tear her hair out!!
Arti smiled as she heard the desperation in Ayesha's voice and agreed readily. At times, only she or Ahmed could make Zoya see reason. She would need to change her timing at the orphanage, but there was no way she could say no to the Khans'.
On her return from Mumbai, Zoya had surprised her with a large sketch book and charcoals – her favoured medium for sketching. The first day, Arti had sat in the garden, the sketch book open on her lap, her fingers clasping the charcoal tightly. Her fingers felt the familiar pencil and itched to sketch – but her mind was a blank. She did not know what to draw...Finally she had let her fingers take over and they ran feverishly over the pristine white sheet, while her eyes barely comprehended the work of her hands. When she saw the final product, her heart clenched. She had drawn her baby! The baby whom she had only ever seen through a sonogram but whose face was etched into her heart. The tears had flown freely again, as they frequently did now.
The sketch and the memory of Ansh had made her go to the orphanage and volunteer. One day she had taken her sketch book along and her sketches of the children – playing, running, sitting in a corner pouting, posing for her – had been so beautiful that the manager had requested them from her. Along with that request had come the hesitant query – would she be willing to teach art to the children there? Arti had agreed readily and now three times a week, she spent hours sketching with the children, teaching them how to draw and paint. For the first time in years she had a sense of fulfillment – a feeling of satisfaction and joy that was so far in the background that she was barely aware of it. Yet, it fuelled her life, giving her the sense of purpose she had lost after the accident.
The argument was well under way by the time Arti reached Zoya's home. After greeting her at the door, Ayesha whispered, "Ahmed couldn't come today – emergency at the hospital. She's being a pain again – she has changed her mind twice already on the colour of her lehenga." Arti exchanged a rueful smile with Ayesha – that made the sixth color change – at this rate Zoya would have no wedding dress!
Ammi sighed in relief as Arti and Ayesha entered the room. Zoya exclaimed, "What do you say Arti? I look a hag in green, don't I?" Turning back to Ammi she continued without a break, "I am not wearing green Ammi and that's final."
"Chalo, at least we have one thing that's final. No green" Ayesha exclaimed. Zoya glared at her sister.
As they continued discussing colours, comparing the samples they had, Arti let her mind wander. She was thinking about her own wedding. Shobha and Sunaina had done all the preparations. They called her daily, discussing details, but she rarely made any suggestions. She was so grateful for the attention and love she felt that she was willing to agree to everything. The only change she had suggested was – ironically – for the colour of her lehenga. Prashant hated the colour red and she had convinced Sunaina to go with magenta instead. Arti smiled reminiscently, remembering the look on his face when he saw her in the mandap in all her bridal finery. He looked...gobsmacked, Arti thought, almost laughing out loud. She could remember him now without the pain stabbing through her heart. She had taught herself to remember only the good times, learning to let the memories warm her instead of leaving her crying.
"What do you say Arti? Isn't that a good idea?" Ayesha's voice broke into her thoughts startling her.
"Ummm... sorry Ayesha. What is a good idea?" Arti asked. The Khans' were used to her zoning out at times and had perfected ways to get her attention back.
"I think we should hire a wedding planner. They are professionals and know their work. And best of all, it will take the stress of of us. What do you think?" Ayesha explained.
Arti nodded, remembering the beautiful ceremony that the Scindias' had put together for Vidhi's wedding. "That's true".
"I'll still be stressed!" Zoya pointed out. "Instead of you, the planner will be stressing me out".
"If you notice, I said we will not be stressed. You can harangue the wedding planner all you want – we will pay them extra for the trouble" Ayesha concluded gleefully, ducking the cushion Zoya threw at her.
"It's not a bad idea" Ammi said slowly and Ayesha whooped. That was practically an approval!
"So...do we know any wedding planners?" Zoya asked, ever the practical one.
With dismay the women realized that in their large circle of family and friends not one was a professional wedding or events planner.
Arti cleared her throat and Ayesha immediately turned to her "You know some one Arti?" she asked eagerly.
"Well..." Arti hesitated, then continued. "Well, yes. But they are in Bhopal. I don't know if they have an office in Delhi. But they may know some one in the business here." Looking at Zoya she explained, "Vidhi's father and brother-in-law have an event planning business. Her devar had arranged her wedding and it was beautiful. You should have seen the shamiana Zo – it looked and felt like a palace."
"Wonderful! So that's decided. You call Vidhi and find out. If they have a Delhi wing, let's go with them. If not, ask them for references here" Ayesha said, relief writ large over her face.
Arti nodded. She would call Vidhi that night itself.
Vidhi had thought it best if her father-in-law, Suraj, answered Arti's queries. After a lengthy discussion, Suraj ended the call and handed the cell phone back to Vidhi.
Nodding thoughtfully he told her, "That was a good idea on your part Vidhi beta. I think it may solve our problem".
Chewing on her lip nervously she replied, "You think so Bauji? You think Yash Bhaiyya will agree to go to Delhi?"
He nodded in reply, "I will talk to him. Go, get some sleep now."
Vidhi was exhausted, as were all other adults in the Scindia household. Since their return from Mumbai the happy, cheerful Ansh had changed. Every evening at 5pm he would start crying – and the crying would continue non-stop for four hours. The doctor had said Ansh was colicky – many babies were and outgrew it by the time they turned a year old. However, these four months of constant crying had taken its toll on the adults. During the evening time, Ansh would not stay down – he had to be held. And not only held – they had to walk around with him. He would not eat, sleep or stop crying for those four hours everyday. 5pm became the horror zone for the Scindia household.
Only Yash was able to soothe Ansh during those hours – somehow, going into his father's arms at this time worked to calm the baby at least for a while – and even 10 minutes of no crying was very precious to the family now. Yash however was not always available – busy with his work and with his tapasya.
"Delhi?" Gayatri, Yash's mother asked her husband in surprise. "Are you sure? We hardly know..."
"That is the point, isn't it Gayatri? We need to get Yash out of Bhopal, even if it's for a short time. Perhaps a week will be enough" Suraj said. He held Gayatri's hand, "We can only hope."
She could only nod, as her eyes filled up with unshed tears.
She stood at the door of his room, looking in. When she was sure they were in deep sleep, she went, very quietly, towards the bed.
As Gayatri stood looking at her youngest son and grandchild, her tears spilled over. She let them fall, crying silently as she drank in the sight before her eyes. Yash slept with his son next to him. Ansh was cuddled at his father's chest, his face towards his parent as a small fist tightly clasped the white kurta Yash wore to bed. Yash had his arm draped over his son's body, even in sleep guarding him from falling over the edge.
Gayatri looked at Yash's drawn face – finally peaceful in sleep. The high cheekbones jutted out and his skin was almost translucent, even with the dark tan.
He felt so guilty for something he had no control over, punished himself constantly for no fault of his. When would he learn to let go? This constant obsession did no one any good – not Ansh and definitely not him. Perhaps her husband was right – this Delhi trip may well be the answer to their problem...
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Hi Again,
I seem to getting into this habit of leaving a note for you after every update. This one though is for self-preservation 😆.
No joota, chappal, tamatar please - i know Yash was sleeping. How boring, hain na? But the next update will have a fully awake and functional Yash. Promise (fingers crossed 😉).
Thanks,
Kat
Harry Potter
Kabhi Neem Neem Kabhi Shahad Shahad
Shiv Shakti
