The huge wooden swing in the courtyard, the noisy chatter of cousins and his own mother’s happy childlike laugh. Probably that’s one of the reasons why he gravitated towards Jaishree. He had seen glimpses of his mother in her. Being a widow for the better part of her life, Souvik had seen his mother struggle to run a home and bring up three children. She had learnt early that the shortest route to success was plain and simple hard work. Though of course, her good natured and unassuming demeanour concealed any traces of exhaustion from over work. The sound value system she gave to her children was something that Souvik would always be grateful for. Souvik’s mother believed in upholding two K’s as she lived her life.
‘Knowledge is Power, and Kindness will take you far,’ Souvik’s mother would say in Bengali as she held free classes every Sunday to teach urchins even as she brought up a doctor, an engineer and a lawyer, all on a school teacher’s salary.
Souvik was in every sense a mama’s boy. And he was not ashamed of it. Instead, it only made it harder as he wrung his hands as he sat alone. Ankur was right next to him, but he was snoring rather audibly. What else could be expected at three in the morning?
Vyas had escorted Jaishree back to the hostel with the promise that they would be there the next morning. Souvik and Ankur had spent seven straight hours in the hospital. It was terrifying. The night didn’t seem to end. To cheer himself up, Souvik decided to think of pleasant things. He thought of home, where he had spent so many happy holidays with uncles and aunts and cousins of all shapes and sizes who would congregate annually.
Souvik then thought of his niece and nephew, Suchetana and Shantanu, and of how proud his mother felt of them. Souvik’s mother played the doting grandmother to the hilt. Every time they would meet, ‘Mama! Mama!’ boisterous voices would call after him as Souvik would cringe and dive for safety. Souvik became a mama at fifteen when Suchetana was born. Three years later, there were two kids who called him that.
Souvik remembered the one time he was sitting in the balcony with his niece. Pointing at a plane flying past, Souvik had vigorously nodded and waved crazily all the while saying an enthusiastic, ‘Ta Ta!’
He was sure that the child would be amused with such a performance. But the two-year-old Suchetana gave Souvik an almost disdainful expression and a clearly uttered ‘bye bye!’ All the while waving like a beauty queen on a float!
Then of course there was his nephew Shantanu who had recently christened Souvik ‘Bow wow’. Souvik’s gushing sister was convinced she had given birth to a prodigy. While ‘Shan’ was still a saliva spewing six-month-old, Souvik was in charge of putting the baby to sleep. The tiny brat was in charge of keeping Souvik awake of course.
Now life would be very different. Souvik desperately wanted the rest of the family to be around. Souvik’s brother Aurobindo and his sister-in-law had boarded a train the previous evening and were expected to reach in the morning. Satrupa, a gynaecologist, had an emergency case to attend but would catch the first flight to be home. Hospitals had become her second home for some time now. ‘God please let Ma still be there till dada and didi arrive,’ Souvik closed his eyes in prayer.
The first thing Ankur drowsily registered were nurses in starched white uniforms briskly walking about. It took him a second to recollect where he was. It was the first time Ankur had woken up in a hospital. The waiting room area always bustled with activity. It was strange that he actually fell asleep. The stress, the sleepless college festival and the shock of the news had numbed Ankur. It was a good thing he had slept. He was feeling refreshed now. Souvik sat next to him with his face up, staring at the ceiling. He was obviously tired and dozing. Ankur thought it best not to disturb him.
Ankur got up and stretched his creaking joints. He walked towards a freshly painted white door which had a circular window, like that of a ship. Through the glass Ankur could see Souvik’s mom as she lay unconscious surrounded by tubes. The sight depressed him and Ankur immediately turned away. The Savitri aunty he wanted to remember was different.
Ankur and Souvik had been classmates since school. Since their kindergarten days. ‘Holy Innocence’ was the name of their primary school which most preferred to call ‘Wholly Nonsense’. The vague memories that Ankur had of those times were the ones seen through the eyes of an impish fourth grader. That included jumping over walls, scraping knees and hurriedly scrambling after flicking some fresh tamarind, especially since an old cane wielding denture wearing nun would materialise from somewhere in hot pursuit.
As a nine-year-old, the only interaction Ankur had with Savitri aunty was when she’d tell Souvik and him to watch out for each other as they travelled in the same school bus. Also for the brief while that Ankur went to Savitri aunty for tuitions, his most vivid memory was not of her frequent tests and the endless practice she insisted on. Aline she had repeated often became part of Ankur’s vocabulary.
‘Larn,’ Mrs Bose would say, in her thick Bengali accent. ‘If you want to aarn,’ And Ankur did learn, While Mrs Bose earned a permanent place in his heart.
Forty-One
‘A match has been found!’ Souvik was shaken awake with the news. As Souvik rubbed his eyes groggily Ankur informed him that Satrupa had arranged for a kidney donation. The endless rounds to the organ bank had borne fruit. Souvik’s mother would be finally having a kidney transplant.
The operation was scheduled for eight in the morning. Aurobindo and his wife had arrived and Satrupa was already in deep conversation with one of the doctors. The red light in the operation theatre went on just like the little lamp in Souvik’s heart. At last there was hope.
The minutes slowly ticked by and Souvik sat down and prayed like he had never prayed before. Tears welled up in his eyes as Souvik carried forth his most earnest conversation with the Highest Power.
‘Work as if no prayer will help, pray as if no work will help,’ Souvik remembered the saying he had learnt at school. And he sat there alone in the crowd asking for Grace to save his mother.
As he silently implored and poured his heart out in prayer, Souvik was close to a black-out when Ankur led him away for some breakfast just in time. Meanwhile Aurobindo kept vigil and waited for his mother who had been wheeled in almost two hours ago.
As Ankur and Souvik sat in a modest cafeteria very close to the hospital, Ankur’s cell phone rang. The operation had been a success. Mrs Bose had survived despite the odds.
As Ankur impatiently waited for the food they had ordered to be parcelled, Souvik closed his eyes in a gesture of thanks.
‘I thought I was going to lose Ma,’ Souvik whispered. Ankur hugged him. The doughnut Souvik was holding turned soggy.
Elsewhere another match was being arranged which had nothing to do with hospitals or kidneys. Another ‘good boy’ was coming to meet Jaishree. Jaishree was in a big hurry to avert the catastrophe.
‘Appa I don’t want to get married now!’ she asserted. Hopeless rebellion with kind words.
‘Chha…,’ Mr Subramaniam let out his disgruntled disapproval.
‘You are young, that’s why you are getting so many matches. Later it won’t be the case,’ Jaishree’s grandmother said.
‘There is an old saying in Malayalam,’ the balding Mr Subramaniam said. ‘Before getting married a girl in her teens will ask, “What is the guy?” If the girl gets married in her twenties she asks, “Who is the guy?” In her thirties, her only question is, “Where is the guy?”’
Mr Subramaniam and paati broke into smiles.
Jaishree was not amused.
‘Why can’t I choose my own partner?’ she asked defiantly.
Mr Subramaniam was taken aback. ‘“Saw-site-ee” does not permit,’ the head of the house asserted. In simpler words, it meant his own permission was not going to be forthcoming.
Jaishree sulked and disappeared into her room, banging the door a little louder than usual.
Forty-Two
Ankur was staring in disbelief at Souvik. He was speechless.
&n
bsp; ‘Ok, let me repeat. Jaishree and I are getting married. This Saturday.’ Souvik stated in a matter of fact way, his face concealing all emotion. It had been six months since Savitri aunty’s near death experience. She’d had a full recovery and decided to spend some time with her relatives in Kolkata.
‘Do you know what you are saying?’ said Ankur, still shocked.
‘Yes my Lord!’ replied Souvik and broke into a smile.
Ankur was forced to smile. ‘Marriage Souvik, this is marriage you’re talking about!’ Ankur said as if explaining to a senile person. Between them, one had to be nuts.
Souvik was slightly irritated. ‘Yeah of course, I know its marriage. I am twenty-two, for God’s sake!’
All the more reason, Ankur wanted to add. Souvik was twenty-two, he ought to act like an adult. Maturity sure was a scarce commodity.
‘House-house, is that what you want to play as soon as you pass out of law college?’ Ankur asked, softening his stance with playful sarcasm.
Twenty-one was the legal age for an Indian male to get married. The lawyer would narrowly escape breaking the law! ‘But where will you stay soon after marriage…and what’s the big hurry?’ Ankur asked again. Ankur could be annoyingly practical sometimes.
Souvik all of a sudden became very serious. ‘Jaishree’s family is forcing her to get married…I can’t see that happen,’ Souvik said his eyes blazing.
‘I guess it’s fine then…,’ Ankur said letting out a short laugh more to diffuse the situation. ‘If Jaishree’s parents are involved…’
‘No one will be involved. We are having a secret wedding.’ Souvik declared in the same tone that he used to announce class tests.
‘Of course it would be great if you guys are there,’ Souvik said and turned away. That hurt! It was Ankur’s best friend’s wedding and Ankur would be the best man. The legal and practical aspects pounding the lawyer’s conscience could be dealt with later.
‘Boss, I’m going to be right there for your wedding, even conduct it if I can. But have you told the others?’ Ankur asked even as his mind was already thinking of the logistics: where was the Registrar’s Office? And who was going to be the second witness? And was this really such a good idea?
Forty-Three
‘I’ve always wanted a runaway wedding,’ Jaishree said with a dreamy look in her eyes. Sonali was convinced she was in the middle of a nightmare. Jaishree and Souvik were planning to elope. ‘Jaya…just what are you saying? Come to your senses!’ Sonali said trying to hold the little semblance of sense that was fast disappearing in her friend.
‘I’ve made up my mind,’ Jaishree asserted, for once quite firmly. ‘People might be disappointed…but I have my entire life to lead.’ Sonali was stumped. She suddenly didn’t know which way her own life was leading. Her conservative Gujarati upbringing was horrified by the very idea of eloping. And this was Jaishree Subramaniam speaking!
‘Have you ever seen Souvik carry his books back from the library?’ Jaishree asked dreamily as Sonali tried to shake herself awake from the nightmare. ‘He holds his books so gently and carefully, as if he’s handling a baby,’ Jaishree added with a far away look in her eyes.
Sonali wasn’t sure whether to be amused or appalled by her friend’s imagination. Instead she just sat staring in disbelief with her tiny mouth agape. Jaishree rambled on. It was almost bizarre to see this side of her. Evidently, both she and Souvik had been planning this for some time. Jaishree knew that her appa would be hurt but then again she couldn’t see herself spending the rest of her life with a chemical engineer who should have ideally remained a part of a lab experiment!
It was comical to hear Jaishree talk like that. In fact, everything was comical that day. The plan to elope, the soliloquy, Sonali’s oscillating expressions and most of all, the fact that being a lawyer, Sonali wasn’t able to say a word to talk her best friend out of the insanity. To think she had spent half a decade of her life just learning how to argue.
‘A wedding? Wow!’ was Pavan’s excited reaction on being told of the news. Souvik smiled. He was desperately hoping for similar reactions from people when he broke the news to the world. Probably a year or so after the wedding.
‘Jaishree…Jaishree Bose. How does that sound?’ asked Souvik, teasing.
‘Boss!You’ve already made her a Bose!’ Vyas said, chiming in with a laugh. The boys were lounging in Souvik’sroom.
‘So where will you both stay?’ asked Ankur trying to sound casual. The idea of a secret wedding with no parents involved somehow still freaked him out.
‘We will be renting a paying guest accommodation.’ Souvik said taking a deep breath. It seemed like he was preparing for the next volley of questions. And sure enough he was not disappointed.
‘But why not tell at least your side of the family?’ asked Vyas concerned. Ever since his own tragic love story,Vyas was cautious of arrangements that were carried out clandestinely.
‘Ma will approve of Jaishree, I know it,’ Souvik asserted, as if more to himself. ‘And as for rest of the family, I don’t give a shit,’ he added slightly agitated. Souvik rarely used swear words, so when he did, he was serious. But looking at the still uncertain faces around him Souvik explained. ‘I’ve worked really hard this year, so I know I’ll get a job. Same goes for Jaishree. Once we start earning and can support ourselves, it hardly matters what the interfering relatives have to say,’ Souvik completed, his sense of reasoning working overtime.
‘But what about your plans of going abroad?’ Ankur asked gently.
‘I’ll go. Someday. If I go abroad now, I’ll return to find Jaishree married with kids who’ll call me uncle!’ Souvik said in a hopeless tone without the least intention of sounding funny. But Pavan still giggled.
‘But that’s silly!’ Vyas declared, ‘Jaishree doesn’t have to get married immediately. Why can’t she stand up to her family?’
‘Why don’t I stand up to mine?’ Souvik asked quite logically. For a change Ankur agreed with him. It was indeed a bold step. And though it was not particularly practical, Ankur suddenly wanted to congratulate Souvik. For being so clear of what he wanted from life and for standing by the woman he loved.
‘Enough guys!’ Souvik finally stated. ‘I’ve weighed the pros and the cons very carefully. Besides,’ he added in a rather solemn voice, ‘Ma is not keeping too well again…I want her to see her daughter-in-law before her health starts failing again…’
Forty-Four
A house is not one’s home, only one’s wife is one’s home.
The line from the Shanti Parva an ancient Hindu text, pervaded the place.
Ankur, like the others, sat in solemn silence as they watched Souvik and Jaishree take the seven holy rounds around the sacred fire. Arya Samaj wedding or court marriage? The debate that had been raging for a week had finally been settled.
Souvik and Jaishree were having a simple temple wedding at four in the morning. More specifically 3:55 am; auspicious Brahma mahurat after all. Ankur turned to look at Sonali who intently followed every ritual during the wedding. At least she was sitting quietly.
For the past one week Sonali Shah had been in a tizzy. Her emotions ranged from plain horror to orgasmic delight. And a never ending conspiratory giggle. Each time Ankur spoke to her, Sonali would keep gushing of how she still couldn’t believe the news. Jaishree Subramaniam was getting married! Jaishree, her bench mate and closest friend. Sonali could only keep clapping and giggling alternately. Even when she accompanied Ankur to a government run registration office, or went sari shopping with Jaishree.
‘Chilka what?’ asked Ankur both puzzled and amused.
‘Chilkalabellum,’ Sonali repeated. ‘It’s a Telugu word.’
Ankur’s vernacular vocabulary was rather limited so he waited to be enlightened further.
‘Chilkalabellum,’ Sonali repeated the tongue twister, ‘is a mixture or rather a small flattened ball of jaggery and turmeric that the bride has stuck on her head. It’s a Telugu custo
m.’
‘But I thought Jaishree was a Tamilian,’ Ankur enquired a little confused.
‘Yeah, but the priest is a Telugu!’ Sonali corrected.
‘Wow!And all along I thought Jaishree was getting married to Souvik!’ Ankur stated grinning, tongue in cheek.
Sonali simply flashed him one of her semi-amused expressions. The wedding ceremony had been going on for almost two hours now. Ankur was getting fidgety.
The early morning sun was yet to rise, but Pavan’s vocal chords were already up and awake. He kept giving a steady running commentary as he sat next to Vyas who was desperately controlling the urge to spread out and yawn.
Vyas had to, at all cost, prevent any such catastrophe from occurring as he sat just outside the mandap watching the chanting priest. Hence he decided to keep himself busy with science defying antics like attempting to stare at the priest’s balding head for the longest period, without blinking. Pavan, who under normal circumstances anyway defied science, decided to keep himself busy with very productive activities like counting the number of flowers on the pandal directly above the bride and groom’s head. After all Vyas, Ankur and he had spent the evening decorating it.
When a Lawyer Falls in Love Page 14