Situation: pag phere time for Sahiba and Angad.
It was time for my pag phere rituals. Honestly speaking I didn’t want to do any rituals I’d you ask me. I was a consolation prize that was given to the Brars in lieu of Seerat Di. I had never wanted to marry, and here I am stuck to the person I perhaps despise the most in this whole wide world. I don’t know what is in store for me. Babaji please give me strength to stay on right path.
ATM along with his mom had been grimacing at the mention of pag phere as well. They didn’t want to have anything to do with my mom. At this point, I was done as well with her. Then what was the purpose of maayka? Maayka meaning Maa ka ghar where a daughter gets unconditional love from her mother. Santosh Monga’s praises however until now had always been of a transactional type. If I did something that would have helped her, I’d get momentary praises otherwise her fixation was always on Seerat Di being considered the most beautiful amongst us three Monga sisters. This lady had refused to recognize her own daughter when a man was insulting her. She for her selfish wants, declared she had only one daughter. Keerat and I were orphans I guess to her. To keep her pretense, she let that ATM insult me again and again. Isn’t it a parent’s duty to protect their children? Instead, she was upset on the amount of quarrels I had with ATM. What about her encyclopedia of lies? What about her drama of dousing herself with Kerosene oil and lighting a matchstick? That was her twisted way to get everyone to agree to her. Then if that was not enough, I, the bread earner, would also be Seerat Di’s personal shopper, scourging the markets of Ludhiana for an affordable outfit which I would be financing.
This was the time I also missed my Ranjeet Veerji. Ranjeet Veerji was my Taiyi ji’s son who was martyred in Kargil at the young of 30. Ranjeet Veerji hote toh kya majaal thi iss ATM ki? Seedha kar dete. Keerat had been heavily influenced by him.
I had gone to Bebe and requested that the pag phere be from the Gurdwara instead. God’s house is everyone’s house, hence it is my maayka as well now. Veer ji, my new devar seemed to understand my plight and reassured me he’ll call Keerat there.
Hearing that we were going to the gurdwara, both my mother in law and her ATM son sighed in relief. I had wanted to do this not for their relief, but to nurse my broken, no shattered heart. Had I gone to the Monga house, my Mummy would have started her pretenses again, and I don’t have the tolerance for it at the moment. I didn’t want to see her either.
At the gurdwara, ATM and I prayed. The granthi ji being someone I was acquainted with very well due to my art work, blessed us. I hope Babaji gives me strength to endure these Brars. I need to be as I am responsible for Keerat getting set in life professionally.
Keerat brought along my father, Taiyiji, Kulche and Sudha Masi. My father kept asking for forgiveness, but unfortunately I didn’t know how to tell him it was ok because it wasn’t. ATM was in no mood to listen. He decided to go ahead and sit in the car. Veer ji, my devar, had also come. He stayed with us, giving me moral support. Taiyi ji and Sudha Masi gave some gifts. I looked at them questioning with my eyes why they were doing this?
Masi then told me, “Look Sahiba, your wedding was done in the most unfortunate circumstances. You have gone to a very hostile environment for no fault of yours. There will be no one you can ask for help. These are a few items which will prevent you from having to feel awkward in certain scenarios. Look, the Brars will keep having events, or small gatherings where you would need to look your part. Granted they might think of it and get you something to wear. But what if they don’t or they forget? I know you may feel conscious. This is just your bridal trousseau my dear. Honestly, it’s not much, but it will prevent you from getting into awkward situations. You can hold your head high. Please beti, don't say no”.
I know I had to be practical. It was better to accept from Sudha Masi than to be at ATM’s so called mercy. I nodded and took the bags from Masi which had two sets of gold jewelry; one was Taiyi ji’s wedding jewelry set and a new one from Masi. Masi had added a few new clothes as well, all mirroring my taste for simple yet elegant. The trousseau consisted of pastel shades of clothes having chikankari, mukaish and embroidery work. The clothing consisted of sarees, suits and even a sharara and a gharara. She had also added some money should I need to buy something. At least my Masi had the foresight, and thought of me unlike my mother who had always Seerat Di at the forefront.
I took my leave from them. Veer ji reassured them that he was there to help me. I now have only namesake ties with my mother. I reflected on my life, and felt that I was always an outcast, a kati patang:
Na koi umang hai
Na koi tarang hai
Meri zindagi hai kya
Ek kati patang hai
Arjun
