The Wings in the Feathers |Part15 Long-awaited p16

The house was in utter pandemonium. There was so much to do and not enough hands. The ladies were irritable and under tremendous pressure. The clutter needed to be stowed away, the copper vases needed to be shined, the curtains needed to be changed, flowers - oh, where were the flowers? - all the paintings had to be dusted, all the shelves and items thereon likewise. And Gopi, the servant, was on leave. Typical of Gopi not to come to work when he was most needed! Oh Gopi!

The kids, excited by the general excitement, chose just then to make themselves as irritatingly inconvenient as ever, running about, jumping on the bed, stealing cookies and letting the crumbs fall freely everywhere, yelling and singing tunelessly, and generally being in the way of the astoundingly busy adults. They perhaps sensed that they would not be rebuked for too long, because there was no time! There was so much to do and not enough hands. The gents of the family, as for them, had smartly sneaked out of the house, and left the ladies to the stuff that they do best.

"Sandhya, where is Sandhya?" suddenly asked one of the aunties who was changing the cushion covers with an acute sense of self-importance.

"She ran away," giggled seven-year-old Deepu to the other kids. He subsequently received a series of eight high-fives from the other kids as appreciation for his clever quip ' including one each from Sweety and Babblu, who obviously would not have gotten it because they were too young, but generally liked high-fives and similar 'cool stuff.'

Luckily, Geeta Chachi did not hear. It was perfectly conceivable that she would have burst into tears if she had. After all, it had taken so long to convince Sandhya, and the latter still looked like she might run away, given the chance.

Oh, but of course, Geeta Chachi reminded herself, she herself had sent Sandhya to the beauty parlour to straighten her hilariously bushy hair - which, of course, Sandhya had, very predictably, argued about, because "it felt like lying." Geeta Chachi slapped her forehead gently for having been so absent-minded and diverted her preoccupation to the flowers instead. Amit was still not back from the market. Oh, these irresponsible youngsters!

Had Sandhya been at home then, it is likely that she would have been struck with the idea that Geeta Chachi and the other formidable aunties actually liked being stressed out, because they seemed to go out of their way to worry about the pettiest of things.

As it were, Sandhya was still at the beauty parlour, stinking of hair products, feeling extremely hot and irritated with the mind-numbing gossip that she was being subjected to, and having her hair yanked out of her scalp and punished for having dared to be defy the norm.

She tried to shut her mind out and stop herself from repeatedly asking herself those pointless questions. Why was it so hard for them to accept that she didn't want to get married? How could it be so ridiculous an idea that she might want to lead her life on her own terms, her way? What is it about single women, successful and independent and happy, that makes those aunties shake their heads sadly with pity? And why did she have to be pitied, treated as some kind of special case, as abnormal, just because she did not feel the urgent need to be married as though her life depended on it?

She knew it was futile of her to ask such questions now. She had battled for long. But it had been the world on one side and her on the other. And the world, typically, had been intransigent and stubborn... and amazingly skilled at emotional blackmail. And she had ultimately surrendered.

And now the boy's family was coming. And she was going to look perfectly coy and submissive, with perfectly straight hair, and a perfect happy family surrounding her. Amidst, of course, a perfectly clean house with new curtains and beautiful flowers pouring out of copper vases that gleamed and smiled approvingly at the perfect normality of it all.

Yes, in a way, she is being forced. But, as will be revealed later in the story, the issue is a bit more complex than that. Deep down, she does feel like being married and loved (she is quite the romantic, really)..but she is scared of being tied down, of change, and of the unpredictability of the consequences of her own choices. And Geeta Chachi, unlike what it seems at this point of the story, is not the vilain. In fact there is no vilain. All the characters are multi-dimensional and made up of shades of grey. They all have their own deeply-ingrained fears and needs, insecurities and desires - and these inform their actions.

Ok I must stop now. I think I'm giving too much away 😆

Thank you once again for the sweet words 😊 And thanks for the welcome 🤗 I have posted another story on the forum. It's a short story in four parts called 'Ride of my life' and is very close to my heart. You can have a look at that as well, if you have some time 😊

Will try to update soon.

Enter The Boy's Family. Main cast: Prashant (the eligible bachelor), Mr and Mrs Joshi (the proud parents). Supporting cast: Random aunty with six-year-old daughter Diya (the cuteness element, one would assume).

Enter Tea, made by Sandhya, loved by all.

At that moment, for the first time since she had seen him, for no reason that she could conjure, Sandhya started thinking that it might actually be a nice to befriend him. And no, not because he had an MBA, a car, a well-paid job, did not smoke or drink, was vegetarian - and all those other things that Geeta Chachi & Co found so attractive about him.

There was something about him that drew her to him. Something she could not understand. She felt it when he looked at her. It was his eyes. There was pain in his eyes, some kind of sadness or exhaustion, or both, like those of a man who had seen too much. They spoke of a wisdom, a story, that she wanted to grasp. It was a wordless song that had more words in it than any language. And more than anything else, she wanted those eyes to smile.

She was nudged by Chachi. She had been staring. For what must have been the hundredth time that day, Sandhya felt a deep annoyance for her Geeta Chachi. Too many rules, too many shoulds. But she was not going to just sit there, in her yellow-with-small-green-flowers cotton sari, looking demure and homely, and just wait dutifully while everybody but her, decided her life for her. She did have the final say after all.

Yes, she would do everything her family wanted her to do. She would serve tea to fat aunties and their brats; she would have herself interviewed by prospective mothers-in-law; listen to her own family (traitors!) sing praises of her, like she was some kind of merchandise they wanted to sell off; she would be quiet and follow the rules.

She would not, however, get married. She would not have herself tied down in a relationship she knew she would never be able to get out of. A relationship that would burden her even further, that would weigh down upon her until she forgot the joy of flying, of being free. She couldn't, wouldn't say yes to that. Her choice in marriage was after all the one part of the life that she had control over, the one part where people thought her opinion mattered. She was going to use that part to make sure she lived her life the way she wanted to. And if postponing the matter became impossible, she would run away. She didn't know how, or where, but she would live her life as though it were hers.

"Arre, where are you lost? What are you thinking?" asked Mr Joshi.

"Nothing Uncle," Sandhya replied. "Just like that."

"Beta," said Mrs Joshi, suddenly remembering, "you haven't told me what you can cook. Not that you would need to cook all the time. We have a big house, many servants. But a girl should know these things."

"Yes, she should" Sandhya replied, trying not to sound sarcastic, and she recited away, hoping there was something they expected her to know that she didn't know about. But everyone was satisfied. Apparently, Dabboo loved kheer. Dabboo, being Prashant of course. Geeta Chachi's eyes teared up in pride. Dabboo seemed unaffected as usual.

Soon enough, just as in the movies, members of both families, smiling mischievously, realised it was time for Prashant and Sandhya to talk in private and "get to know each other." As expected, Prashant's cousin, Diya insisted that she wanted to go with. Sandhya shrugged and said she could. Everybody laughed, and Geeta Chachi found the opportunity to emphasise how much Sandhya loved kids - an opportunity aptly seized, of course.

A one-to-one conversation it would be, as decided.

Originally posted by: _.serendipity._

Oh thank you for commenting. I was so unsure about this story, so the feedback is truly very highly appreciated 😃 Thing is, I have pretty high expectations from this story.. I want to make it very believable and easy to relate to, and I'm not quite sure I'm getting as close to achieving what I want, as I would have liked. I guess I just need to write on, and see what happens..

You'd be surprised, but these Bollywood style people do exist. I know the like 😉

Thanks again. It was very nice of you to comment!! I will update soon.