Dohraha: Tale of Crossroads: KT/YM/KSG/RG & Others

"Yes, Of course Mr. Forbes…we'll have that session…yeah, I'll be in my clinic early in the morning…you too…Take care..!" He disconnects his Bluetooth from his left ear and then glances down at his Cartier, it's almost noon… New York City is in the middle of its worst blizzard ever and the whole city seems to have just shut down. No-one could get in or out of the city especially by plane. He should've been on his way to his conference in Cincinnati for this afternoon, but instead he is stuck in the Airline's business class lounge at JFK.

He goes through his emails and appointments on his IPad…everything is planned accordingly…it has to be after all he is a clinical psychologist…an expert in reading people, their thoughts, their views both grey and pure…he is good at counseling and talking out their fears and inhibitions…he is a good professional; no not just good, an exemplary professional would be more accurate…his established private practice is proof enough of how good he is at his job…how faultless he is…at his job.

The business class lounge is filled with lone passengers…mostly with people who have work and places to get to, but are stuck like him…he gets up without really looking around any further, disinterested and least bothered about the people around him…he steps up to the nearest caffeine source…he needs to be awake and functioning….The business class has its perks…

"House blend is fine…No sugar…and no creme...half please...Thanks…" He takes the tallest cup that is offered for his order and turns…walks a few steps…then stops… watches.

"Hello…hello…helloo…"

"The service phones are out…"

"Oh..!"

There was no particular reason that had stopped him to inform her that… he wasn't bothered by the change clanking in the metal box that she kept sliding the in…he isn't bother by her relentless slamming... or her attempts at the dial over and over again…he didn't care…his only concern is about the way she is dressed…he had stopped in his tracks upon recognition of what his mind could picture as a traditional Indian bride …there is no heavy lehenga or such but what she had on would be considered quite elaborate for an airport…elaborate for being stuck in the middle of a blizzard at JFK…The whole nine yards of jewelry as well, especially the things that adorned her wrists…they looked wretchedly painful to put on…too many bracelets…no wait..Bangles or "chooriyaan"…specifically the bounded dark maroon one for brides is known as "choodha, he couldn't believe he is able to recall so much…Anyways, he begins to walk away…

"Excuse me…"

He isn't listening…and sees no reason why the inappropriately dressed stranger bride would call after him…he walks on…

"Excuse me…" The voice follows him…he stops… he has to eventually.

"Indian…?"

"From New York…"

"Oh…! Can I use your phone…"

"App business class travel kar rahi hain…?"

"App hindi jaante hain…?"

"Issi Airline se travel kar rahi hain…?" He either finds her question out of importance or he just doesn't really care for her inquiry and so he retorts with his own.

"Nahi… voh phone…phone karnay aayi thi iss lounge se…"

"Here is the phone…"

He hands over his IPhone after unlocking the screen…she takes it with hesitant hands, not looking him in the eye…dials the number…he moves away with his coffee…damns the blizzard and JFK's crowdedness…Her conversation is distant…he doesn't really hear it and he has no desire to…she approaches him again…

"Thank You…meray husb…"

"I don't really need the details…app ko phone chahiyay tha…and I had it…

He walks away without ever turning back…she looks on feeling strange…but, isn't that what she is…? A stranger, a mere "Ajanabi"…to him…and to her husband of a year who she will see for the first time since their ritual wedding which took place under some odd circumstances at her small house back in Delhi…And now after her paperwork and waiting period for immigration to States is done, she is here…it should explain a little why she is dressed the way she is.