A Suitable Boy (4 page)

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Authors: Vikram Seth

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BOOK: A Suitable Boy
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'Yes, yes, go on, go on,' said Mahesh Kapoor. He glowered at the fire.

 

 

But now Savita was being given away by her mother with a handful of rose-petals, and all three women were in tears.

 

 

Really! thought Mahesh Kapoor. They'll douse the flames. He looked in exasperation at the main culprit, whose sobs were the most obstreperous.

 

 

But Mrs Rupa Mehra was not even bothering to tuck her handkerchief back into her blouse. Her eyes were red and her nose and cheeks were flushed with weeping. She was thinking back to her own wedding. The scent of 4711 eau-de-Cologne brought back unbearably happy memories of her late husband. Then she thought downwards one generation to her beloved Savita who would soon be walking around this fire with Pran to begin her own married life. May it be a longer one than mine, prayed MrsI

 

 

Rupa Mehra. May she wear this very sari to her owi daughter's wedding. \

 

 

She also thought upwards a generation to he^fathei and this brought on a fresh gush of tears. What th septuagenarian radiologist Dr Kishen Chand Seth haï taJcen offence at, no one knew: probably something said o done by his friend Mahesh Kapoor, but quite possibly b] his own daughter; no one could tell for sure. Apart fron repudiating his duties as a host, he had chosen not even tr» attend his granddaughter's wedding, and had gone furi ously off to Delhi 'for a conference of cardiologists', as ht claimed. He had taken with him the insufferable Parvati, his thirty-five-year-old second wife, who was ten yearsl younger than Mrs Rupa Mehra herself. f

 

 

It was also possible, though this did not cross his daughter's mind, that Dr Kishen Chand Seth would have gone mad at the wedding had he attended it, and had in fact fled from that specific eventuality. Short and trim though hel had always been, he was enormously fond of food; but1 owing to a digestive disorder combined with diabetes his diet was now confined to boiled eggs, weak tea, lemon i squash, and arrowroot biscuits. f

 

 

I don't care who stares at me, I have plenty of reasons to cry, said Mrs Rupa Mehra to herself defiantly. I am so( happy and heartbroken today. But her heartbreak lasted| only a few minutes more. The groom an^ '-:Jarnim^l «•!-« c

 

 

f

 

 

«noititK lasted

 

 

„ ~ *v.w minutes more. The groom and bride walked around the fire seven times, Savita keeping her head meekly down, her eyelashes wet with tears ; and Pran and she were man and wife.

 

 

After a few concluding words by the priests, everyone ( rose. The newly-weds were escorted to a flower-shrouded I bench near a sweet-smelling, rough-leafed harsingar tree in I white and orange bloom ; and congratulations fell on them and their parents and all the Mehras and Kapoors present as copiously as those delicate flowers fall to the ground at dawn.

 

 

Mrs Rupa Mehra's joy was unconfined. She gobbled the congratulations down like forbidden gulab-jamuns. She looked a little speculatively at her younger daughter, who

 

 

appeared to be laughing at her from a distance. Or was she laughing at her sister? Well, she would find out soon enough what the happy tears of matrimony were all about !

 

 

Fran's much-shouted-at mother, subdued yet happy, after blessing her son and daughter-in-law, and failing to see her younger son Maan anywhere, had gone over to her daughter Veena. Veena embraced her; Mrs Mahesh Kapoor, temporarily overcome, said nothing, but sobbed and smiled simultaneously. The dreaded Home Minister and his daughter Priya joined them for a few minutes, and in return for their congratulations, Mrs Mahesh Kapoor had a few kind words to say to each of them. Priya, who was married and virtually immured by her in-laws in a house in the old, cramped part of Brahmpur, said, rather wistfully, that the garden looked beautiful. And it was true, thought Mrs Mahesh Kapoor with quiet pride : the garden was indeed looking beautiful. The grass was rich, the gardenias were creamy and fragrant, and a few chrysanthemums and roses were already in bloom. And though she could take no credit for the sudden, prolific blossoming of the harsingar tree, that was surely the grace of the gods whose prized and contested possession, in mythical times, it used to be.

 

 

1.6

 

 

HER lord and master the Minister of Revenue was meanwhile accepting congratulations from the Chief Minister of Purva Pradesh, Shri S.S. Sharma. Sharmaji was rather a hulking man with a perceptible limp and an unconscious and slight vibration of the head, which was exacerbated when, as now, he had had a long day. He ran the state with a mixture of guile, charisma and benevolence. Delhi was far away and rarely interested in his legislative and administrative fief. Though he was uncommunicative about his discussion with his Home Minister, he was nevertheless in good spirits.

 

 

Z3s 'g tly nasal voice to Mahesh if™ Rudnia he said in hbeen an active member of the Muslim League ; and though 5o you're cultivating a rural P°or: he had not lived to see the birth of Pakistan, that above all

 

 

Ma°hnS h c°nstituency for tlte^omil,was what he had dedicated his life to.

 

 

fro a ^ Kapoor smiled. Ever ' ^ne ta^' grey-hearded Nawab Sahib, noticing four eyes

 

 

grak same urban constitue ^“^ I537 ^e nad stooion nim' gravely raised his cupped hand to his forehead in

 

 

M %pu? ~ a constituency i-ha/”^ i“1 ^e neart of CH Ponte salutation, then tilted his head sideways with a quiet farm and f” ^ °f the s^e trade^^ mUch of W smile' as if to congratulate his old friend. m “and his knowledge of n.^irrty-Desnire hi, T°U havent seen Firoz and Imtiaz anywhere, have

 

 

mover ings ir

 

 

“'”^Knowledge of rural « Clty-uespite hi You naven't seen Mr

 

 

^^toabo^^f^-^wa.the^youî' he asked Mahesh In the stafP _ .v _ ge and IWprodiirr;,,» l~ jVT*'r

 

 

5^-^j5=»«2-^

 

 

z and Imtiaz anywhere, have Kapoor, after walking slowly

 

 

rural constituen

 

 

no

 

 

cy- By way Of

 

 

'Ose to

 

 

, nis Sectoral home and Y glnable that he Wouij 'No, no - but I haven't seen my son either, so I rural constituency. By way of ^ *° COntest from assume….'

 

 

Lh?^! t,he nandsome black LlT^T' he indicated hi, The Nawab Sahib ralsed his hands slightly, palms for“gnt otf-white m,; . acnkan he was „,„.._• Vs ,,,,r^ ir, , ™«t,,r^ «f l,»i^i»eo«»^

 

 

*« h* ;„,,—'

 

 

Pyjamas, and rh k n Was Wearing the war-' m a gesture of helplessness, l their „„ . . onlliantlv emr,r^;5' After a while he said : 'So Pran

 

 

_. -..^ L-ujnandy embroidered

 

 

^ juus with their up-turned toes would present an

 

 

incongruous picture in a rice field.

 

 

'Why, nothing is impossible in politics,' said Sharmaji slowly. 'After your Zamindari Abolition R-” -

 

 

you will berr,rr,~ - '

 

 

After a while he said: 'So Pran is married, and Maan is next. I would imagine you will find him a little less tractable.'

 

 

'Well, tractable or not, there are some people in Ba-

 

 

you u -H k y ^arnmdari Ah r • ia ^narrnaii wel1' tractaDle or not, tftere are some people m K

 

 

choJ C°me a hero throueho, /T“ B'J1 goes through naras l have been talking to” said Mahesh Kapoor in

 

 

Sharni ^ C°Uld bec°me Chief JU countryside. If you determined tone. 'Maan has met the father. He's also

 

 

his eyeJ1f^ner°UsJy and warily fTT^ ^Y n°t?' said ^ cl°th business' We're making enquiries. Let's see. Ai

 

 

srrnlr; i °n the Nawab Sak'k6 °°ke~ around, anr) what about your twins ? A joint wedding to two sisters ?'

 

 

court“8 beard and Jooking of «aitar, who was s see' let's see” said the Nawab Sahib- thinki,

 

 

added' you might lose a friend or r° Perplexedjy- 'Of rather sadly about his wife' buried these many year

 

 

j^j L wo in the process ' he 'Inshallah, all of them will settle down soon enough.'

 

 

^15^r“—:s:r/—'i

 

 

^f^*S^^ 'if my father h ^ ImtiaZ Iau8hed'

 

 

more. Oh GodF O” behalf °f tw° People^And?*8 ** Shut “P' b°th °f y°U” Sa'd F'r°Z' attemPting to aPPear

 

 

'What - v e ' 1ater ft more annoyed than he was ; he had had enough of this sort

 

 

asked Firoz half.3 if lsnt gating you marri^ a • , of nonsense- Tm g°ing down- At)ta will be wondering

 

 

'Well, the buff Sy e“ a smile andTfro “ Ci where °n earth we've g0t tO” And s° wil1 your father' And

 

 

disconsôlatelv “w” Z°ne disaPpeared tonight ^“'-j ! besides, we ought to find out if your brother is formally

 

 

'No, no thank Vean0ther” * * ** married yet - and whether you really do now have a

 

 

enjoyed his d ^ u St'^ ^ave Plenty ' said P' * l beautiful sister-in-law to scold you and curb your

 

 

father would with a «lightly e,,i]fv /“?' F'ro: excesses-'

 

 

the happy hourTi!”0^611 Jess than Maan? «t ^ h'i 'M ri§ht' a11 ri8ht' we'U a11 8° down“ said Maan

 

 

'God knows j ' 3 d uncertainly. when| genially. 'Maybe some of the bees will cling to us too. And

 

 

'At the firs/r ÛjS- 3t the enquiry stage ' said )U I if we get stung to the heart, Doctor Sahib here can cure us.

 

 

For some teas' Imt'aZ added' ' “' I Cant y°U' Imtiaz? A11 y°u would have to do would be to

 

 

readingF he ren3501!} ^”s de^ghted Maan 'A f, I app'y a rose“Peta”to r^e wound isn't that so ?' third reading i A j' '^ell, let's hope it n^ ^rsl 'As 'ong as t^lere are no contra-indications,' said Imtiaz

 

 

withholds his ass r' ^ 'f if do“' that th” ? tO thl seriouslyHe laueheH ss^nt- e * resident| 'No centra-indications,' said Maan, laughing as he led

 

 

,k~,… .._ ë 3nd took a Connie «f !_.. . I thr wav Hnwn fbp stairs

 

 

: plenty,' slightly ;

 

 

«aid Maai

 

 

«id Firoz. FirV

 

 

-^-^ «.nu rook a couple of long swigs. 'And what! about your marriage ?' he demanded of Firoz. I

 

 

Firoz looked a little evasively around the room. It was asl bare and functional as most of the rooms in Prem Nivas -1 which looked as if they expected the imminent arrival of a I herd of constituents. 'My marriage !' he said with a laugh. I Maan nodded vigorously. M

 

 

'Change the subject,' said Firoz. •

 

 

'Why, if you were to go into the garden instead of* drinking here in seclusion -' I

 

 

'It's hardly seclusion.' •

 

 

'Don't interrupt,' said Maan, throwing an arm around f him. 'If you were to go down into the garden, a good- | looking, elegant fellow like you, you would be surrounded within seconds by eligible young beauties. And ineligible I ones too. They'd cling to you like bees to a lotus. Curly I Jocks, curly locks, will you be mine ?' '

 

 

Firoz flushed. 'You've got rhf ~:~-:t-

 

 

c-j.VI '»'

 

 

_ …v,, uccs to a lotus. Curly .vo, vuny locks, will you be mine ?'

 

 

Firoz flushed. 'You've got the simile slightly wrong,' he said. 'Men are bees, women lotuses.' Maan quoted a couplet from an Urdu ghazal to the

 

 

' -“

 

 

“'en lotuses a couplet from a

 

 

2.6

 

 

besides, we ought to find out if your brother is formally married yet - and whether you really do now have a beautiful sister-in-law to scold you and curb your excesses.'

 

 

'All right, all right, we'll all go down,' said Maan genially. 'Maybe some of the bees will cling to us too. And if we get stung to the heart, Doctor Sahib here can cure us. Can't you, Imtiaz ? All you would have to do would be to apply a rose-petal to the wound, isn't that so ?'

 

 

'As long as there are no contra-indications,' said Imtiaz seriously.

 

 

'No contra-indications,' said Maan, laughing as he led the way down the stairs.

 

 

'You may laugh,' said Imtiaz. 'But some people are allergic even to rose-petals. Talking of which, you have one sticking to your cap.'

 

 

'Do I ?' asked Maan. 'These things float down from nowhere.'

 

 

'So they do,' said Firoz, who v/as walking down just behind him. He gently brushed it away.

 

 

1.8

 

 

BECAUSE the Nawab Sahib had been looking somewhat lost without his sons, Mahesh Kapoor's daughter Veena had drawn him into her family circle. She asked him about his eldest child, his daughter Zainab, who was a childhood friend of hers but who, after her marriage, had disappeared into the world of purdah. The old man talked about her rather guardedly, but about her two children with transparent delight. His grandchildren were the only two beings in the world who had the right to interrupt him when heI

 

 

was studying in his library. But now the great yellcr,

 

 

ancestral mansion of Baitar House, just a few minuta

 

 

walk from Prem Ni vas, was somewhat run dowrfclind tli

 

 

library too had suffered. 'Silverfish, you know,' “said tlj

 

 

Nawab Sahib. 'And I need help with cataloguing. It's f

 

 

gigantic task, and in some ways not very heartening. Son|

 

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