It's the night before the 2nd of December and nothing is stirring in the Juneja house. Well except, for me, Preet Juneja, that is. Now ordinarily, I would be fast asleep at this hour, lying all snuggled up next to my beautiful wife, Meher. But not tonight. Tonight I'm pacing the floor nervously alternating between chewing on my lower lip and my finger nails.
Why?
Because tomorrow is D-Day. It's Meher and my wedding anniversary. Our very first one.
I used to be the type of guy who never thought he'd get married. Never ever thought a girl would come along who would make me crazy enough to actually do the deed. And then I met Meher.
It was when my family and I were over in Ambala planning for Heer Bhabi and Prem Bhaiya's wedding that I first saw Meher, Heer Bhabi's younger sister. She was tall, fair, had long brown hair, rosy cheeks and an infectious smile that immediately tugged at my heart strings. I don't think at that point, I had even realized what had happened to me, but I found myself volunteering a little extra in all the wedding activities just so I could have an excuse to run into her again and again.
I still remember the first time I spoke to her...
I had just set down some gifts Ma had sent over for Heer Bhabi. It was the middle of August, the weather was especially muggy, and to top it all off, the Maans had no air-conditioning at their place. Needless to say I was sweating profusely. A couple more trips and then I can head back, I decided. I was about to wipe my forehead with my sleeve, when someone handed me a handkerchief. It was Meher.
"Here, you can use this", she smiled.
"Thanks", I stammered, taking the handkerchief gratefully. "Hi. I'm Preet".
"I know silly", laughed Meher. "You're Prem Jiju's younger brother. We met last week when our parents were planning the dates for the wedding".
"Right", I smiled. I waited until her back was turned then quickly tucked the handkerchief into my pant's pocket.
"You must be tired. Why don't you catch your breath and have this...", said Meher, as she held out a cold glass of sherbet. "Go on take it", she giggled, when she saw me hesitate. "I promise I won't spill it on you just as you take it from my hand".
"Thanks", I said.
"Have a seat", said Meher, "and I'll get a farmhand to unload the rest of the stuff from your car".
"Thanks", I said gratefully.
"Ma, Papa Ji, and Heer Didi have gone to the market for some last minute shopping", explained Meher. "You're welcome to wait here until they return".
"Thanks", I said.
"Tumhe thanks ke ilawa bhi kuch bolna aata hai?" Meher giggled. (Do you know how to say something other than thanks?)
"Huhn? Um...Yes...of course...here, I'm done with this", I stammered like a bumbling idiot, as I held out my empty glass for her.
"You're so cute", laughed Meher. She gently tweaked my cheek, took the glass from me and walked away.
Now if my mom had tweaked my cheeks like that I would have been all over her reminding her just how grown up I was, but for some reason, when Meher did it, I liked it. I totally liked it. I drove all the way back to Ludhiana with one hand on the steering wheel and the other one on my cheek. In fact I still had a goofy grin and one hand on my face, when I walked into the house. My mother immediately noticed that something was up.
"Preet, did you give the Maans everything I sent?" asked Ma.
"Huhn?" I said, as her questioning brought me back from my thoughts. "Oh yeah Ma, they said thanks. They sent over some stuff too. It's in the trunk, I'll get one of the servants to go and get it".
"Preet, is everything alright?" Ma asked.
"Hmm...yes...why do you ask?" I said.
"Because you're walking around with one hand glued to your cheek", she pointed out. "Do you have a toothache or something?"
"No...uh...I...uh...I just remembered I have something to do", I stammered, as I immediately pulled my hand away and made my exit.
Of course I had nothing to do, but I wasn't quite ready to reveal my newly found feelings to anyone. So I quickly made my way to my room and locked the door behind me. My hand immediately reached for my pocket where Meher's handkerchief had been safely tucked away. I had been careful not to use it earlier. She had touched it and I hadn't wanted it to loose her essence. I brought the handkerchief closer to my face, and the light fragrance of lilacs immediately filled my senses. As I fell back onto my bed, I allowed the small piece of flowery fabric to cover my face, and inhaled the soft scent again and again, with largest smile plastered on my face.
From that day on I was always the first to volunteer for taking anything over to the Maan's place. During the different wedding ceremonies too, I'd hide behind pillars, flowers, doors, anything that would give me cover, just so that I could watch her without her knowledge. Or at least I thought it was without her knowledge.
The night of PB's wedding I was getting ready, when I discovered that my kurta was missing a button. Great timing Preet! I scolded myself, as I considered my options. Veera might be in her room, but she couldn't sew to save her life. Ma and Kul Di are probably downstairs with all the guests. They would be hard to find. Maybe I can fix this myself. I mean how difficult could it be to sew a button?
Ma and Bauji's room was right next door, so I went and got the sewing kit Ma kept in her drawer. Like an expert, I picked up a needle and selected thread that matched my clothes, then for the next 15 minutes I struggled to put the same thread into that needle.
I never did get that thread in, and it was a good thing too. I had just managed to prick myself with the needle, and was hopping around with my finger in my mouth when Meher knocked on my door, and peeped in.
"Veera? I...Oops...sorry. I didn't mean to intrude", she smiled. "I was looking for Veera".
"Her room is down the hall", I said giving her a weak smile.
As she turned to go, she glanced back at me and inquired about my predicament. "Are you alright? I mean do you need some help?"
"No. It's okay", I said. "I just popped a button but I can fix it".
"You don't exactly look like you're all that handy with a needle and thread", she giggled. "Here let me help". She walked into my room looking at the scattered contents with a raised brow, and for the first time I wished I wasn't title holder of The Mr. Messy of the Century award.
I carefully handed her the needle and readied myself to comfort her at the first sight of blood, but to my amazement...and somewhat disappointment... she threaded it on the very first attempt.
"Button", said Meher, as she took a step closer to me, and held out her hand.
I handed her the button and she promptly began to repair my kurta. I began to watch her work, hypnotized under the spell of her proximity, and didn't even realize I was smiling until she spoke up.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"Huhn? Um...nothing", I stammered.
"You know...", she said, "my cousin Ashlesha swears she's seen you staring..." I must have changed a dozen shades of red, before she added "...at her".
"No I haven't", I said, denying the charge vehemently. "Dharti Ma ki kasam!"
"Then who have you been staring at?" she asked softly.
Before I could think of an answer, she finished securing the button, and leaned forward to break the thread off with her mouth. My heart skipped a beat as I felt her soft lips gently brush against my bare chest.
"I'm sorry", she blushed as she saw a small spot of lipstick on my skin. She reached out to wipe it when I suddenly grasped her hand.
"It's okay", I whispered, as our eyes locked.
"I better go find Veera", said Meher, finally breaking the silence. She pulled her hand back shyly, before running out of the room.
Somewhere right then and there I decided that I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life looking into her eyes like that. My family couldn't be happier when I told them. And so it was settled, and a year ago on the 2nd of December, Meher and I were married.
So what's the problem? Why can't I get to sleep? Because I didn't get Meher a gift. Our very first anniversary and I didn't get her a gift! It's not like I didn't try. I did. Dharti Ma Ki Kasam! But I just couldn't decide what to get. I tried asking Meher indirectly, but she wasn't dropping any hints. Then I tried the direct approach...
I walked in on her as she was folding the laundry. She's always folding laundry. "Hey Meher", I said. "Our anniversary is coming up soon".
"You remember?" she asked.
"Of course I remember", I said, slightly offended that she would question my intelligence like that.
"No...it's just that guys usually don't keep track of all the important dates", she remarked.
"Well I do", I said. "So...um...What do you want me to get for you?"
"Preet, you don't have to get me a gift", Meher said politely.
But I wasn't about to fall for that. I mean, women always say that, but it really means, you better get me something or else.
"I know", I countered. "But I'd like to. So tell me. What would you like?"
"I don't know. Just surprise me", said Meher.
"No", I insisted. "Just tell me what you want, and I'll get it. If I guess, then it'll be the wrong thing. It's always the wrong thing".
"No it won't", said Meher. "It'll be what you choose and a surprise, that's what'll be most important". She gave me a kiss on the cheek and went back to tackling the pile of clothes before her.
Sure she was saying that now. But I can just picture it, after searching for weeks for the perfect gift, I'll get a..."Preet! What the hell were you thinking?" That's what happened on her birthday last June.
No big deal, I consoled myself. I mean with 5 other experienced, married males in the Juneja family, I'd have plenty of helpful gift giving advice.
Boy was I mistaken.
The first person I approached was Bauji. I figured I could not possibly go wrong, after all, Ma and Bauji had been married for 30 years. That was 30 years of gift giving experience Bauji had up his sleeve.
As I approached their room, I could hear that Ma and Bauji were already engrossed in a heated conversation. I know it's not polite to eavesdrop, and I wasn't really. But I figured if the argument was about Bauji smoking again, I'd alert Ma to the stash of cigarettes he keeps hidden in a Ziploc inside the toilet tank. Don't get me wrong. It's not like I enjoy seeing Bauji in trouble...okay...maybe I do a little...but this would be for his own health.
"I can't believe you forgot to give me Mr. Rampal's message about moving our dinner appointment up by one hour!" Bauji was scolding Ma. "Do you have any idea how important it was for us to meet and discuss our contract?"
I'm sorry Lalit", sighed Ma. "It was an honest mistake".
"Yes well your honest mistake just made us look very unprofessional", said Bauji. "It may also have just cost us a very lucrative deal".
This looked bad, I thought. Maybe I should intervene and help Ma. It turned out that Bauji needed help instead.
"Speaking of unprofessional", countered Ma. "I saw how you were flirting with the waitress, when I was coming back from the ladies room".
"Um...uh...No...I...we were just talking", stammered Bauji. "I mean she was taking my order".
"It was the same way you were talking with your secretary at the office last week. Really Lalit...I didn't expect this from you...at this age!" continued Ma. "I think we need to talk about honesty because lately all you do is look at other women and make me feel unappreciated".
I think the remaining 2 hair on Bauji's head fell out, as he stood there in shock, and watched Ma run off to the bathroom in tears. I of course felt like a cad for witnessing the entire scene, but what to do. I still needed help. I knocked on the door to alert Bauji of my presence.
"Who? Oh...it's you. What do you want Preet?" Bauji asked.
"Bauji...Meher and my 1st wedding anniversary is coming up in less than a week. I was wondering...". But Bauji didn't let me finish.
"Yes...go ahead and take the day off Preet", he said absentmindedly.
"No actually I needed your advice...", I tried again.
"Not now Preet", he said. "I can't think straight. I need to get my cigarettes, but your Mom has locked herself in the bathroom. Go ask Kiran for help".
So the next day, I waited anxiously for Kiran Jiju to come home. So much so, that I greeted him at the door. Meher was roaming around downstairs too, so I asked him to meet me up in his room after dinner for an important conversation.
Kiran Jiju was reading his newspaper when I knocked on his door. "Ah Preet...come on in", he smiled. "You said you had something important to ask me. What's on your mind?"
I never did get a chance to answer his question, because we suddenly found ourselves in the center of another family crisis. His 7 year old son Vikas, apparently under the notion that his bangs were too long and making him look too girly, and without the use of anything as lame as a mirror mind you, had taken a pair of scissors and given himself a new haircut.
"Do you have any idea what your son just did?!" said Kulraj Didi as she stormed into the room.
"No. What did my son do?" asked Kiran Jiju.
I had to laugh at Kiran Jiju's effort at sarcasm, but I understood where he was coming from. If Vikas had just graduated from medical school, Kul Di would have been going around introducing him as her son the doctor. But since he had done something really stupid, he suddenly became Kiran Jiju's son.
"Vikas just cut lots of his hair off", fumed Kulraj Didi.
Kiran Jiju and I followed Kul Di into Vikas' room. There he was busy coloring, oblivious to the number of notches he had just raised his mother's blood pressure by. I stared at Vikas, trying hard to not to laugh out loud. He looked like a little version of Bauji. Probably not the first 7 year old to suffer from self afflicted male pattern baldness.
"Hmm", said Kiran Jiju, as he tried to control a smile, and surveyed the situation.
"So that's it? That's all you're going to do?" demanded Kulraj Didi. "This is not fair Kiran. Sometimes I feel like a single parent".
"Well what do you want me to do?" Kiran Jiju asked in bewilderment. "He's cut the hair off already. Do you want me to wrap it in ice and race it to the hospital to see if they can do an emergency weave?"
"No. But I do think you should have a conversation with him", insisted Kulraj Didi. "Maybe you can get through to him. You both are men aren't you?"
I was wondering why women always think having conversations is the solution to everything, when Kiran Jiju came up with a better idea.
"I think I'll do something better than that", he said. "I'll take him down to the salon. There's one I know that's open late. They'll even out his hair from all sides. At least he won't be made fun of at school tomorrow".
"Good idea", agreed Kulraj Didi.
As my sister and Kiran Jiju went to get his wallet and car keys, I came and sat next to Vikas.
"Vikas?" I said.
"Yes Mamu?" he answered.
"Don't do stuff like that man. Your hair looks stupid", I said.
"But I like it like this", he said.
"Oh you like it do you? Well then it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of it", I said ruffling what remained of his hair. Just then his parents returned. "So is that clear?!" I stood up and said in a gruff tone.
"Yes Mamu", Vikas grinned.
"Good and don't do it again", I added for emphasis.
"Thanks Preet", said Kulraj Di, giving Kiran Jiju a look. "At least someone around here understands what I have to go through with these kids".
I gave Kul Di a weak smile, and watched her drag Vikas out the door. Of course next week Vikas will probably get into homemade tattoos and blame the whole thing on me, but for the time being I was my sister's hero. A hero that still didn't have a gift for his wife's anniversary. And now Jiju was gone too.
Things weren't working out at home, so I decided to corner my elder brothers at work and get some advice from them there. To my dismay, Prem Bhaiya had left early in the morning for an out of town meeting. He wouldn't be back for another 2 days. I tried to speak to Herman Bhai, but he was tied up in court the whole day as well. Never fear, I thought, we live under the same roof. Just how difficult would it be to speak to him?
Later that evening, I went to Herman Bhai's room and knocked on the door. "Hey Preet, what's up?" he asked cheerfully.
"Bhai, I needed some advice", I began. "See...Meher and my anniversary is coming up in a few days and..."
Just then Maya Bhabi snuck up and hugged Herman Bhai from behind. "So Janu...how was your day?" she asked.
'Janu', I thought with a raised eyebrow. I hadn't heard Bhabi call Bhai anything other than 'Herman' before. Frankly I thought he looked equally surprised.
"Maya", whispered Herman Bhai, "Preet's here".
"Oh", said Maya Bhabi, peeking out from behind him. "Well...you're so tall I didn't see him".
"Go ahead Preet, you wanted to talk", urged Herman Bhai.
"Herman if you're in the mood to talk then I have a pressing matter to discuss too" said Maya Bhabi. "My friend's wedding is next week and I needed you to take some time off so that we can attend".
"Which friend?" asked Herman Bhai.
"Neha", replied Bhabi.
"Neha? Isn't this like her 3rd wedding?" asked Herman Bhai.
"So?" said Maya Bhabi.
"So, I'll be very busy at work all next week", said Herman Bhai. "I'm afraid we'll have to skip this one".
"But she's one of my best friends", said Maya Bhabi. "If you can't go, then I'll just go alone. Besides, Delhi is not so far to drive to".
"No Maya", Herman Bhai said. "I don't want you going alone. It's just not safe".
"But I can take care of myself", insisted Maya Bhabi.
"No Maya", said Herman Bhai. "And that's final!"
"Fine!" cried Maya Bhabi. "You're just treating me like this because I'm a woman. Men have been persecuting women since the beginning of time. Why should I expect you to be any different?"
Herman Bhai and I promptly looked for shelter, as Bhabi proceeded to hurl several objects around, some of which could possibly qualify as weapons of mass destruction if they hit their mark. She then walked over to the bed picked up a pillow and blanket and handed them to Herman Bhai.
"Guess who's sleeping in the guest room tonight?!" she fumed.
"But its Friday night", protested Herman Bhai. "You do remember what we do on Friday nights don't you?" he leaned close to Bhabi's ear and whispered.
I pretended that I didn't hear and hid my embarrassment behind a fake cough. I knew Maya Bhabi was a very orderly person and had a schedule for everything. But for sex?! I suddenly felt like I had received a heavily detailed dossier I never requested. I knew I wasn't going to get any help from Herman Bhai, so I decided to leave. He was still negotiating with Bhabi as I headed out the door.
The next day I decided to visit my other Jiju, Nihal. Nihal and I were related in more ways than one. He was Meher's older brother and my youngest sister Veera's husband. I was sure my visit would result in nothing but success. After all, being Meher's brother, he would surely know what his sister would like. As for Veera, Nihal doted on her, I mean literally spoiled her. Plus Nihal and Veera had just gotten married 3 months ago. I figured they were still in the honeymoon phase of their marriage, and he probably bought gifts for her all the time. He would definitely be able to give me proper guidance.
Nihal hadn't gotten home yet, when I got to his house, but my sister was more than happy to see me. After the usual small talk, I decided to make use of my time and ask Veera for her opinion on a good anniversary gift. Meher has very simple tastes as compared to Veera, but it couldn't hurt to ask just the same, I thought. And who knows...maybe I was looking for advice in all the wrong places. And getting a woman's input may just solve my problem.
I was just about to lay my dilemma before Veera, when Nihal walked in, looking visibly upset.
"Nihal? Are you alright?" asked Veera.
"No Veera, I'm not alright", he answered. "Do you know what your sister did?" he demanded from me.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Why was he demanding answers from me? I mean, he was the one who married Veera 3 months ago. She was his headache now.
"Nihal will you calm down, and tell me what happened", said Veera.
"I was just made to look like a fool in front everyone at the board meeting today!" cried Nihal.
"Well...how is that my fault?" Veera asked.
"Remember when we went out last week, and you stuffed some tampons in my jacket's pocket...just in case?" Nihal reminded her.
"Oh right", said Veera. "I didn't want to take my purse and my outfit had no pockets".
"Well did you remember to ever take them out when we came back home?" asked Nihal. "Let me answer that for you. You didn't! So today...unsuspecting little old me was wearing the same coat. And when I pulled my handkerchief out to blow my nose...they rolled out and landed right in the center of the conference table!"
"Oops!" said Veera.
"Oops! That's all you have to say?!?" demanded Nihal.
I was about to say something, when all of a sudden, Veera started crying. Poor Nihal just froze in his tracks, like a naked Greek statue, wondering what the hell had just happened?! I understood his confusion. After all, men don't cry, we've been programmed since childhood not to. Unless of course, we're in some sort of physical pain. Then the body sort of goes on auto pilot. But even then the amount of tears we shed is minute in comparison to girls. For girls crying is simply an arbitrary response to anything...cute animals, weddings, weight gain, soppy movies...you name it. Anyway, I knew, I wasn't going to get any help from Nihal. He had enough to deal with, so I headed on home. Time was running out fast, but I wasn't worried, because I had saved the best for last, Prem Bhaiya.
It was Sunday morning, and PB had gotten home from his trip the night before. I still had all day to get Meher the perfect gift. So I wasted no time and began looking for my eldest brother. I decided if anyone could guide me it would be him. After all, he had a good 5 anniversaries under his belt. Not to mention the fact that he was also a hopeless romantic.
I found PB sprawled out on the sofa in the TV lounge. I thought twice about asking him for help as he was watching a game. I wanted his undivided attention and I knew from experience that men liked to focus on only one thing at a time. Unless of course the wife comes to bed wearing that night dress you bought her with the plunging neckline, then we have no problem focusing on 2 things. Ahem, so where was I...Oh yes...PB.
I decided to catch him a bit later, like when he wasn't sleeping, eating or watching sports, after all I still had the rest of the day. I was about to walk away when Heer Bhabi walked up to PB and asked if the pants she was wearing made her backside look big. Prem Bhaiya absentmindedly nodded in agreement. You wouldn't believe how drastically the acoustics in that room changed. And needless to say PB was checking into the guest room that night. I was out of luck too, because he wasn't exactly in the mood to give out advice either.
I spent the rest of the day roaming various malls, but nothing I saw seemed good enough. Before I knew it time just flew by and here I am, pacing the floor with nothing to show for my efforts.
Just then Meher turned in her sleep and extended her arm to my side of the bed. When she realized I was missing, she sat up and rubbed her eyes with her hands.
"Preet? What are you doing up at this hour?" she asked, as she leaned over and turned on the lamp.
I glanced at the clock. It read 12:31am, December 2nd.
"Happy Anniversary Meher", I said as I came and sat next to her.
"Aww...Happy Anniversary to you too sweetie", she said as she kissed me lovingly on my cheek. "But you could have waited until morning to say that you know".
"I know", I said. "Actually that's not why I'm up". I slowly relayed the entire story of my failed efforts to secure any sort of help in buying a gift for her. I even showed her the gift wrap and ribbon I had bought. Unfortunately there was no gift in between them. To my surprise a smile crept up to her lips.
"Preet", Meher said as she put her arms around my neck. "I don't need you to buy me expensive gifts to show me that you care or love me".
"You don't?" I asked.
"No", she said. "In fact I'm flattered that you went through so much worrying just to get me a gift".
"Yeah but it would have been nice if I had something to show for it", I said.
"You don't have to be disappointed Preet", said Meher. "Because I already have the most prefect gift of all".
"Oh yeah? What?" I asked.
Meher took the bow from my hand, peeled off the paper from the back of the glue side and stuck it right over my heart. "You", she said as she smiled and tweaked my cheeks.
"Happy Anniversary Meher", I grinned, as I put my arm around her waist and pulled her close to me, until her lips, so sweet and soft, like rose petals, brushed against mine. And as we poured out our love in a passionate kiss. I realized once again just how lucky I was that she was mine.
Years will pass, and many more anniversaries will come. And next time, I'll be sure to have a gift for her. Not because she needs one. But because I love her and she's worth it.
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