"I think Papa is thinking to arrange a syamvar for you," my twin-brother Dhri called from the second floor landing, his tone rather amused than serious. I had just stepped over the threshold to leave for work when my brother rushed down asking me to accompany him and deliver papa's file that was due for a crucial meeting.
"You should tell him that his daughter hasn't become the cat lady yet. I'm only 28 you know," I managed to appear disinterested, in hopes to discourage him from picking the one other subject that in reality, had begun to trouble my nerves.
"I believe," my brother, drawled in contemplation, as he shut himself in the car," its Vishwa's yet another of those ploys. Otherwise, why would they forget the one most important deliverable for the most anticiapted meeting with H360. Moreover, Vishwa wants you to hand it personally to Papa in the conference room. Not to anyone else."
No, it wasn't the last of the thavapar yug, nor were men fighting over kingdoms and noble princesses. The feuds of this day and age were different. Power and wealth had other meanings, but however, sadly the same could not be said about women.
I folded the newspaper in my hand to hide the headlines of the recent atrocities committed in the country's capital against a hapless woman.
Here I was, Kushi Shyama Draupad, a vision in my peach blouse, grey pencil skirt and a five inch stiletto, carrying my Papa's forgotten cover art to his most awaited meeting of the month, I couldn't tell the lives of women had changed much through the ages. A London graduate, fencing being one of many things I was good at, an able opponent at sane debates with my step-mother and here I was still being chaperoned by our driver and my twin-brother who was all of two minutes elder than me, when my father's wife no longer thought that I was safe outside, by myself, in our own garden.
It was hard to tell where my anger was directed at. Was I mad that I no longer got to drive my own car or at the previous day's events and that rape was too violent for urban men of the 21st century? But, it was also then I reminded myself that I had tried and failed to comprehend such primal urges of all extremes.
I let the matter dissipate into the dark corners of my head where the rest of all that remains unresolved and inexplicable lurked. For the moment, I agreed that we women had never truly been free. The nature of our trials had changed and evolved the same with time, not extinct as it should be.
Despite the appearances I kept with family, I was ready to be fussed over as a bride, packed off into another realm of unknowns. It wasn't that I was lacking to find me a suitable man, but I was yet to come across one who could make life interesting in the same proportions as it was boring in my current life. Vishwa, my Papa's dashingly young and shrewd business partner, who in my view was the only man worth every unconscionable sin on earth was already married and the others had only turned out to be disappointments even as we would get past introductions.
It so happened, I was one those rare women who either silenced and intimidated men with my inimitable beauty or attracted them for the wrong reasons. Also the reason why I my brother did double-duty as my body guard, besides being one of the finest creative directors of the ad world.
Turning to catch a glimpse of Dhri, I saw that his initial curiosity about Vishawa's strange request had worked itself out, as he sat immersed in the goings on of his laptop; a buffering replay of the world archery men's indoor competitions in progress. Pulling my gaze back to the window, I gave a small smile thinking that my brother, for all he was worth, would never stand up against papa and step back from the challenge set-up for him - a ceremonial shooting of a flaming arrow to light the new akanda jyoti placed on a 3 story high pole that faced the main door of our family temple: a small scale temple annex in the lesser known foothills of Badrachalam, which was the alleged site of Ram and Sita's exile. If that wasn't challenge enough, Dhri had just one attempt to light the auspicious jyoti and the invitation from the temple had been rather abrupt - he only had two more weeks to master the trajectory. Besides, papa was being led by Vishwa to believe that the opportunity couldn't have come at a propitious time - a sign of all the good things that were coming our way.
Vishwa was too suave to have such beliefs, I thought; a thorough city bred raised in the high rise jungles of the world capitals. However, I was aware that even Dhri knew Vishwa meant well, despite the severe archery training he'd been forced into off-late. And it wasn't just personal bias, for everyone at home believed just as I did, that Vishwa was the best thing that had happened to us ever since his return to India, after finishing his business school in the US. He'd showed up when I had only been nineteen, at an age you don't think that the colors of the rainbow are a bit subtle for your tastes, but a promise of what the future has to offer. You hold different beliefs about life, freedom, love and togetherness, almost always defining them in the context of another person.
I had fooled myself into thinking he was my soul mate - it had been easy then. Now too, I undoubtedly believe Vishwa and I are the best mates among others, only at twenty eight I no longer wonder if we were meant to be. Vishwa and I never did flirt, although he was capable of devoting an uncanny singular focus that made me feel like I was the only woman in the universe who deemed his attention. But when I had soon discovered he'd instilled the same sentiment in others, I understood he was more than a player - a well-meaning player at that. He was easy to fall into conversation and most times, I never had to spare four words when only two would do, for he always managed to know my plight and twisted secrets before anyone could. I wasn't particularly against talking, but I did prefer men who didn't need my words to speak to me. See without see me and touch without ever wanting to.
Vishwa was...I breathed out a low sigh looking out at the sights. Without ever meaning to, I knew I was in search of Vishwa in every man I came across.
"Remember? Give it only in papa's hand," Dhri called out again as the car pulled by our company lobby. "I'm telling you. It's something to do with your syamvar. I overheard papa and Vishwa chatting about your prospects who are going to be there."
"And you tell me this now?" I flipped around in horror, my one foot outside the door. Convincing myself that this couldn't really be happening, I got out and straightened my skirt to fall slack over my knees. Often times, Dhri had a bout of bad sense of humor, I reminded myself.
"Just like the epics...I have this feeling you are going to be married before the end of this week." Dhri was out in a blitz, pulling a suit jacket over his shoulders and hurried up the stairs to get to his day's appointments.
"I think god really messed up our genders," I raised my voice a little to be heard over the street din. "You really do read much between the lines, Dhri." I sauntered in, affording as much contrast in comparison to his rickety dash through the lobby.
Edited by Lahari. - 11 years ago
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