I Too Had a Love Story (15 page)

But anyway, the folks got introduced to each other. Except for Tinku, who was in Bhubaneswar for his weekend support at his office, they had seen my entire family.

We all then moved to the guest room where her parent’s would stay. They liked our place, especially her mom, who noticed the guava and the
jamun
tree in our courtyard. And this time it was me who boasted, ‘See, our tree is bigger than yours.’ And everybody laughed.

While they enjoyed their lemon squash, my mom returned to her kitchen. She was very busy. In a short while they were given some privacy, to get comfortable in the new place, relax a bit and take a shower. We all then met at lunch.

Of course it had to be good. And it was, actually, one of the best luncheon gatherings at my place—a good menu, good people, good conversation and all that for a good purpose. Along with the meal, the elderly people went down memory lane, recalling marriages in their period and comparing it with the
present system. And I wondered if, forty years later, I would be recalling the present marriage system. Or maybe, who knows, marriage might not even exist by then …

Apart from that, there were a lot of things they discussed: the current society, mind-sets, the generation-gap fundas and all that. And I had to agree with whatever they said, though there were a lot of things I would have revolted against. But then, all I was bothered about was my marriage to their daughter. So I nodded my head to whatever they said about our young generation’s failings. But thankfully they ended on a happy note, saying that we are the bright future of this country. (And I said to myself, ‘Oh, thank you so much, folks! I am honored.’)

Being a good child, I gave the required privacy to the parents, so that they could discuss what they had come to discuss. I went out to the veranda and lying on a cot underneath the
jamun
tree, I called her up.

‘Heyyyyyyyy!’

‘Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!’

‘What’s up there?’ she asked.

‘The sky,’ I answered.

‘Shut up!
Batao naa
. How’s my mom? Is she fine?’

‘
Kamaal hai.
At least ask me how
I
am first!’

‘Nothing’s going to happen to you. You’ll always be fine because I’m in your life,’ she replied sweetly, though I wondered—didn’t the same apply to her mother as well?

‘Your mom is doing very good
aur haan
your dad is also fine,’ I added that taunt to make her realize that she should have asked about her dad too. But she always said she is her mom’s daughter first … Her dearest daughter.

Then I told her all that had happened, so far, at my place and the agenda for the rest of the evening. Meanwhile, there was a burst of laughter from inside and I thought I should go
back and check on the things being discussed. We hung up and I went back in.

I’d left them alone to plan my marriage but, damn! the old folks were cracking jokes, recalling the funny things I used to do when I was a kid. Why do parents have to reveal all those embarrassing secrets to others? I was not the only kid in the world to suck his thumb in his sleep! What’s the big deal?

But anyway …

We made a plan for the evening—a visit to Hirakud dam. Mom wanted to stay back home, because of her health and to take care of other household chores, most importantly, dinner. I wanted to stay back with mom but she wanted me to be with them. It was just a matter of half an hour or so and we would be back, she said.

So after an hour’s nap and evening tea, we went ahead with the plan. As our destination was only three kilometers from our house, it didn’t take us much time and we reached there in ten minutes.

We parked our vehicles and then climbed the
Jawahar Minaar
tower (the tallest building there) which was built to keep vigil. We were almost 150 feet above the ground and, from there, the catchment area of the dam appeared at its best. On our right was the giant structure of the dam—those hovering pulleys, the noise of the turbine coming from some place far below, the big water reservoir behind the wall and the tributaries of water originating and passing by my town towards the east. On our left was the scenic horizon, with half of the burning sun above it, creating a mesmerizing sunset, giving us a hint to interpret the common line between the sky and the water.

Very soon, our shadows perched in the longer shadow of the tower were fading. The sun was bidding goodbye for the day. And there stood those silent islands, big and small, far and near, in the miles and miles of water, waiting for the night-creatures to
come out and rule them. Birds were flying back to their homes and, from that tower, we could see the lights in our town coming on. Everyone there appreciated the beauty of the place.

I was happy I had brought Khushi’s mom and dad there. And I remember very well what her Mumma said. ‘When Khushi comes here, bring her to this place. She’ll love it.’ And her dad said, ‘It was a similar, spellbinding, scenic view which made me write a poem when I passed through the Khandala Hills on the Pune-Mumbai expressway. And I have the same urge now.’

That was so good to hear. I don’t know if he wrote any poem on it or not. But they didn’t know, till then, that my small town, Burla, had such beauty in its lap. And, on that note, we were on our way back home, the setting sun colouring us with its hues and thanking the ‘guests’ for their visit to this natural heaven.

We were back at around 8 p.m., a little before dinner. And this is when people actually started discussing the purpose for which Khushi’s parents were here. And, being a good lover-boy, I was updating my beloved about the proceedings at our premises. Moments later, when I joined the discussion, we all arrived at a common decision.

The ring-ceremony was to be held in Faridabad, on 14 February 2007.

Khushi and I had chosen this date long ago. She had said she wanted to celebrate this Valentine’s Day with her fiancé (the future me), whereas my stand was that I wanted to celebrate this day with my girlfriend (the current she). So we both agreed to exchange our rings on the evening of 14 February. For the first half of the day she would be my girlfriend and for the later half, I would be her fiancé. Such a simple solution, no?

So, the ring-ceremony would be on 14 February. And the marriage, some time in November.

After that, we had our dinner, and then her parents went to their room, quite happily. My parents and I had a brief
discussion, planning some of the things at a personal level, especially for the engagement which was a month later.

She is differently happy today. It seems she wants to tell me something. And I am asking—What? But she is taking her sweet time. I hear her turning the pages of newspaper. Then she speaks up.

‘Shona!’ And after a moment of silence she adds, ‘Your promise to me about that boozing thing …’

‘Hmm …’

‘I want to set you free from that promise.’

‘What?’ For a moment, I cannot figure out the context. But, still, I am happy. I again hear the sound of newspaper pages.

She says, ‘You kept your promise for the past seven months. I’m sure alcohol won’t turn you bad.’

I doubt that’s the only reason and ask her again, ‘Are you sure? Is this the only reason?’

Mischievously, she reveals the whole truth. She reads out an article from the newspaper which describes the various positive aspects of limited alcohol intake. It also says that a couple can make their romantic moments special with a glass of champagne.

I am smiling.

She says, ‘I respect you for keeping your promise to me till the day I ask you to break it.’

I don’t say anything, but I smile. I am feeling nice about this.

She says ‘It’s been a long time for you. Do you feel like enjoying a drink with your friends tonight?’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘Haha … Well, not tonight.’ I am laughing. ‘I am glad that you are setting me free from this promise and I am happier that I could keep it. I only booze in order to give company to my friends. Maybe
the next time they want me to, I will be able to drink with them. I am in no hurry, though.’

She says she feels so comfortable with my last line.

It was Friday afternoon and, as usual, I called her up before lunch. I had to tell her that we had made our reservations and also when we’d be arriving at her place. And I wanted to know what all was happening at their end. Actually, I already had an idea; still, all these things related to our engagement were so beautiful that we loved to talk about them again and again. It happens with everyone, no?

‘Hey.’

‘Heyyy! Hi, my cute baby.’

‘Listen, I have completed my next task too. We have got our …’

But she interrupted me to say, ‘
Arey,
wait. I’ll tell you about my task.’ She seemed very excited and, of course, completely ignored what I was saying. She was very happy. I mean she is usually happy, but that afternoon she was differently happy.

I heard her jump off her bed onto the floor.

‘Give me a second,’ she said and started singing to herself. Lala … Lalala … Lala.

‘Weird,’ I thought and waited for her one second to complete.

‘Ok! Do you know what I have done?’ she asked in her cutest voice.

‘Hmm … No. Tell me.’

‘I have just painted some flower vases. And some candle pots, you know the kind? Bowl-shaped earthen pots which will be filled with water, and fresh rose petals and a few small, lighted candles will be floating on the surface.’

‘Wow! But what are you going to do with this?’

‘
Arey buddhu!
We will place them on the podium where we will be exchanging our rings that evening. To add an aesthetic touch and sweet fragrance to the surroundings.’

‘Oh … Wow! Nice
yaar
, this will be awesome.’

Then she got busy again. Probably working again on those candle pots.

‘
Achcha,
listen. I have made the reservations,’ I tried again to tell her.

‘Wow! You know what? I have made an awesome design on it. It’s looking good … It’s looking so beautiful!’

I don’t know what had happened to her. She was completely ignoring me and enjoying her preparation for her engagement evening. She was singing, she was laughing more than I ever heard her, she thought everything around her was so beautiful.

La … Lala … Lala … Laa
…

‘Heyyyyyyy you know what? The entire menu is selected. Yes! I’ve done that. And dad has given the order accordingly. Everything is purchased apart from small accessories. I will buy them tomorrow.’ And she kept narrating her entire list, what she was going to buy and wear on the engagement.

‘
Arey, dekthe reh jaaoge
. In that first look, I’ll take your breath away.’ she started jumping and singing again, this time at a higher pitch.

‘What’s happened to you?’ I heard her mother ask.

‘She’s gone mad,’ I heard Neeru say.

And Khushi? She kept laughing and dancing.

‘
Arey
, Mumma, I am going crazy …. coz … coz … three days later,

IT’S MY ENGAGEMENT!’

La … Lala … Lala … Laa
…

And then, I think, she made her mother dance with her. She was crazy. The madness of being in love … Her dream coming true with every passing day … She was on cloud nine.

All of a sudden, her mother took the phone to talk to me.

‘My daughter’s gone completely mad today … She’s been laughing all morning. She’s so happy, I’ve started worrying …
kahin kuch
…’

‘When you were getting married you must have felt the same!’ I heard Khushi shouting in the background, her voice fading away as if she was going out of the room.

‘Did you hear?’ her innocent and worried mother asked.

‘Haha. But Mumma, today I like your daughter even more. You don’t worry. Just let her enjoy the preparations.’

From her mother I found out that, since morning, she had been trying on her dress for that evening every now and then, her sandals, her bangles. She had not even eaten breakfast in her excitement. All morning her hands were dipped in the paint she was applying to those vases and candle pots.