‘Ladkiyon ki tarah kyun sharma raha hai[32]?’ Nani asked Pinku in a clipped tone. Chastened, he took her hand and escorted her to the elevator, his face a bright shade of pink.
Downstairs in the garden, Nani found a table near the bar and ordered herself a large scotch on the rocks. She looked at her Cartier watch, a gift from the late maharaja of Patiala, and grimaced at the time. Her favourite grandson was late again.
An hour later, Arjun and his father stepped out of the elevator, into the Mezzanine Garden.
‘Dad, this is exactly why I’ve been telling you we should outsource construction,’ Arjun said grimly. ‘DLF has done it, we should too.’
This morning, Khanna Developers’ in-house contractor, Mukesh Yadav, had dropped a bomb on Arjun: the workers were going on a three-week strike.
The news had shocked Arjun who, after the last board meeting, had promised Yadav a revision in contract rates post the completion of this project. As a show of good faith, Arjun had even built the cost into the P&L for the next project. At that time, Yadav had agreed to it, so what had changed now?
‘My hands are tied, Bhaiyaji,’ Yadav had said sincerely. ‘I tried to convince the men, but they are just not agreeing. What can I do?’
As the liaison between the workers and Khanna Developers, Yadav was the only one who could do something. Slab-laying work was already on hold due to a delay in sand supplies, and the strike would only push things back further. Arjun had visited Yadav’s house and spent an hour trying to reason with him, but the man hadn’t budged.
‘If it were up to me, this strike would never happen,’ Yadav assured him. Arjun had declined Yadav’s invitation to stay for lunch, and left only when Yadav promised to attend Chinky’s wedding.
Each day that construction was on hold resulted in a huge monetary loss, not to mention an extension in the deadline. Arjun had worked very hard on Khanna Developers’ reputation as the ‘on time’ builder, and he wasn’t about to let an unscheduled strike damage it.
Not wanting to cause his father additional stress, Arjun said, ‘Never mind, I’ll talk to Yadav and figure it out.’
Arvind slapped him on the back. ‘It’s Chinky’s wedding that we should prioritize. Let’s deal with this on Monday, beta[33].’
For his father’s benefit, Arjun gave a small smile which widened into a genuine grin as soon as he walked into the garden and spotted his sister. ‘Hey,’ he said, engulfing her in a hug.
‘Careful!’ Nitisha said, showing him her hennaed hands.
‘Sorry,’ he said, stepping back. ‘You look nice.’
‘Thanks, so do you. Where did you get that fabulous kurta?’ she winked.
‘A highly overpriced store called Khudai. But I didn’t pay for it, so who cares?’ Arjun shrugged.
‘Very funny,’ Nitisha said. ‘All okay at the site?’
‘More or less, don’t worry about it. Do you want a drink?’ Arjun asked.
‘Orange juice.’
‘With?’
‘Nothing. I’m not drinking until tomorrow night, remember?’
Arjun shook his head in resignation. ‘Okay, I’ll send you an orange juice.’
He had merely walked a few feet towards the bar when he heard his mother’s excited squeal. ‘Arjun dahling, you’re finally here! There’s someone I want you to meet.’
Arjun gave her a brief hug. ‘Hi, Mom.’
‘This,’ Amrita said, gesturing to the girl next to her, ‘is Divya.’
‘Mom was hoping to introduce you to someone.’
Arjun groaned internally and turned towards the skinny girl beside his mother. ‘Hi, Divya, nice to meet you.’
‘Same here,’ Divya said, sounding bored.
Arjun studied her fauxhawk, gothic make-up, khadi tank top and black dhoti, right down to the black toenails peeking out from her Kolhapuri chappals. Divya was the exact opposite of the kind of girl he would expect his mother to set him up with, Arjun thought in surprise.
‘Divya Sinha,’ his mother emphasized.
‘Any relation to Priya Sinha?’ Arjun drawled distastefully.
‘I’m her niece,’ Divya said.
That explained it.
‘Divya is a very talented singer,’ Amrita gushed. ‘She sings in all the satsangs and she’s in a band.’
‘What kind of band?’ Arjun asked politely.
‘Carnatic fusion,’ Divya said.
‘Such a talented girl. And so pretty, no?’ Amrita beamed at her son. Arjun shot her a warning look, but she ignored it. ‘Divya just moved here from Bangalore and she doesn’t know anyone. Why don’t you show her around, Arjun?’ she suggested, with a sly smile.
Subtlety was not his mother’s strong point.
‘Divya,’ Arjun began, more out of good manners than genuine interest, ‘I was just heading to the bar. Would you like to join me?’
‘Sure,’ Diyva said.
‘After you.’
A few minutes later, Arjun realized that hanging out with Divya wasn’t so bad. She only spoke when spoken to, and even then her responses were limited to monosyllables or short sentences. And the best part was that she seemed as uninterested in him as he was in her. Arjun caught sight of his masi’s sons and waved them over.
‘Arjun Bhaiya, kaise ho[34]?’ Pinku said with a wide grin.
‘Good, yaar. How are you guys? Meet Divya. Divya, these are my cousins, Pinku and Minku.’
‘Myself Pankaj Sabharwal,’ Pinku said, adjusting his tie and reaching into his pocket for a visiting card. ‘And this is my younger brother, Manoj. Nice to meet you.’
‘Same here,’ Divya said, with the same lack of zest with which she had greeted Arjun.
‘I have to go say hello to Nani,’ Arjun said. ‘Will you excuse me?’
Divya gave him an indifferent shrug and Arjun turned towards the bartender. Given how late he was, he would feel better equipped with Nani’s favourite drink. He spotted Rohan at Nani’s table and gave him a nod. Rohan threw him a you’re-so-dead look and said, ‘Nani, aa gaya aapka laadla[35].’
Arjun bent down to touch her feet. ‘Sorry, I’m late.’
‘No, no. Behen ki shaadi[36] only, nothing important,’ Nani said, crossing her arms over her chest.
‘I was at the site, Nani. There was a lot of traffic on—’
‘Arre, bhai, you are ladki wala[37]. You can come and go whenever you want,’ Nani said, deadpan.
Rohan grinned at Arjun from behind Nani, clearly enjoying the admonishing his future brother-in-law was receiving. He was forced to check his grin abruptly when Nani turned to him. ‘Haina[38], Rohan?’
‘Uh, yes, Nani. I mean, no. Of course, he shouldn’t be late. It’s disrespectful to his guests,’ Rohan said solemnly.
‘Nani ka chamcha[39],’ Arjun muttered under his breath. Out of ammunition, he placed the glass in front of Nani and attempted to change the subject. ‘I brought you a drink. Speaking of which, have you told Rohan about the origins of the Patiala peg?’
Nani took a large swig from the glass. ‘Thee maharaja of Patiala hosted a dinner for thee Irish tent pegging team on thee night before their big match against Patiala. Thee bartenders were instructed to offer extra large pegs of 120 ml to thee Irishmen. They all woke up with bad hengovers and thee Patiala team won thee match.’
Though he had heard the story before, Rohan feigned protest. ‘But that’s cheating, Nani!’
‘Patiala maharajas always got their way,’ Nani said matter-of-factly.
Arjun and Rohan exchanged a look. They had both heard the rumour about Nani being the mistress of one of the Patiala kings.
‘Rohan,’ Nani began. ‘Vikram Walia kab aayega[40]? I want to talk to him about cricket. Back in thee day I attended many cricket matches in thee royal pavilion of thee Patiala cricket ground.’
Arjun had a sudden vision of a black-and-white photograph of an unsmiling lady in a silk sari. Nani had shown it to him in a coffee-table book about Patiala royalty the summer before he moved
to New York. The photograph was captioned ‘The Maharaja’s Guest’, and the lady was wearing a watch that looked all too similar to the one Nani was wearing right now.
‘He’s in Mumbai for the day, but he’ll be here tomorrow,’ Rohan answered, shifting in his chair.
‘He is so hendsome and dashing!’ Nani gushed.
Vikram Walia was a good-looking dude, Arjun thought objectively. But Arjun wasn’t keen on pursuing a discussion on cricketers—let alone Patiala royalty—so he grabbed his phone to distract his grandmother. ‘Let’s take a picture, Nani.’
‘What is this phone-shone photo? Click properly for thee elbum. Candy ko bulao[41]!’
Arjun turned to her with a puzzled look. ‘Who is Candy?’
Risha turned around at the sound of her new alias. Ever since Nani had christened her ‘Candy’, the entire wedding party had been addressing her by that name.
‘What happened, Shruti?’ Risha asked Rohan’s thirteen-year-old niece.
‘Candy Didi, Nani is calling you,’ Shruti said, pointing in the direction of Nani’s table.
‘Okay, I’ll be there in a second,’ Risha responded, guzzling a small bottle of Bisleri water. She pointed her camera at Nani’s table, hoping to catch the old lady in a candid moment, when she spotted Arjun. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw him laugh at something his grandmother said. Risha zoomed into his face and took a burst shot. His eyes crinkled at the corners and his perfect white teeth gleamed in the sun. She wondered if he had braces as a kid or if he was born with that flawless smile.
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts as she walked towards their table. She hid her face behind her camera and took a couple of shots, preparing herself for the moment they finally met again.
‘Hi,’ she said softly.
The smile vanished from Arjun’s face. ‘Ms Kohli, I presume,’ he said formally.
Baffled by his lack of warmth and recognition, Risha narrowed her eyes. When Arjun continued to look at her blankly, she returned his greeting with cool reserve. ‘Mr Khanna.’
‘You both are a match,’ Nani said.
‘What?’ Arjun turned to his grandmother in complete shock.
‘You are weering chikan, she is also weering chikan,’ Nani said, pointing to the chikankari embroidery on his kurta.
Arjun looked at Risha’s yellow top and then down at his own smoky-white kurta. Comprehension dawned upon him. ‘Oh.’
‘Maybe they planned it in advance, Nani,’ Rohan suggested casually.
Arjun shot Rohan a dirty look before turning to Risha. ‘Can you take a few pictures?’
‘Sure,’ Risha said nonchalantly. Over the next few minutes, she took their photos, instructing them to look this way and pose that way. The more uncomfortable Arjun appeared with all the posing, the more Risha found herself enjoying the photography session.
‘Chalo, enough for now,’ Nani said. ‘Arjun, get a drink for Candy.’
‘I can’t, Nani. I’m on duty,’ Risha said, pointing to her camera.
Nani waved off her concern. ‘Duty-shuty toh chalti rahegi[42].’
‘I really can’t,’ Risha said firmly.
‘You can and you must,’ Nani insisted.
Realizing Nani wouldn’t relent, Risha acquiesced. ‘Maybe towards the end of the evening.’
‘Okay, but don’t leave without having a drink with me,’ Nani warned.
‘I won’t,’ Risha promised.
‘Arjun, go get Candy some coffee instead,’ Nani said.
Arjun gritted his teeth but stood up.
Risha shook her head. ‘I just had coffee,’ she lied. ‘I have to take a few solo shots of Nitisha, I’ll see you all in a bit.’ Before Nani could voice any further objections, Risha disappeared.
She walked all the way across the crowded garden and stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed, she pushed the button for the sixth floor and exhaled deeply.
What had just happened? Was this cold, aloof man the same Arjun who had exchanged his dessert with her and teased her with silly nicknames a mere three days ago? She couldn’t believe this was the same person she had spent the last forty-eight hours stalking online. And she certainly couldn’t guess the reason for the sudden shift in his attitude. Maybe it was because they were no longer equals. He owned the building in which she stood, along with half the city. And she was just a wedding photographer. But he had known that on the flight and he didn’t act like such a rich snob then. Had she really misjudged him so much?
Get your act together, Risha. You’re a goddamn professional.
Risha stepped on to the balcony and changed the lens of her camera, wanting to take a few aerial shots of the gathering before it got too dark. Little splashes of colour peeked through the white drapes in the garden. Nitisha sat with her green lehenga spread around her and the henna artists pored over her legs, mehndi flowing from the tips of their little henna cones. Risha zoomed into the setting, using the drapes to frame her shot. She nodded at the output, pleased with the picturesque scene she had just captured. A few minutes later, her silent session was interrupted by her phone. She answered it, sighing pre-emptively. ‘Yes, Rishabh?’
‘How’s it going, Kohli?’ her friend said cheerily.
‘I’m working. What do you want?’ Risha asked impatiently, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder, as she carefully positioned her camera on the stone baluster.
‘Do you want to meet for dinner tonight? I’m at a shoot in Gurgaon till eight o’clock, but we can stop at the new sushi place in Cyber Hub on our way home,’ Rishabh said.
‘I don’t know what time I’ll get off.’
‘Come on, Kohli. I haven’t seen your face in months!’ he whined.
‘We had dinner together last night,’ she pointed out.
‘Having kathi rolls outside your building while Tyagiji gives me death stares doesn’t count as “having dinner together”,’ he groaned. ‘Besides, the bartender at the sushi place has an ass that won’t quit.’
‘So you need a wingwoman?’ she said dryly.
‘Who better to back up a gay guy than his straight best friend?’ he chortled.
‘I honestly don’t know when I’ll be free. Let me text you in a bit,’ she said, hanging up and sliding her phone into her pocket. Her fingers brushed against a small rectangular piece of paper: Pinku’s visiting card. On the left corner of the card was a woman dressed in a bright red Patiala salwar and in the centre were the words ‘Salwar Hi Salwar’ in purple Comic Sans. Under that it said ‘Pankaj Sabharwal, Proprietor’ in bright magenta.
Risha laughed out loud, then took a quick picture of the card with her cell phone and texted it to Nidhi with the caption ‘Design for dummies’.
Risha wrapped up her last shot and grabbed her things, heading back to the venue. As the elevator opened to the mezzanine floor, Risha was greeted by a loud cheer.
‘There you are!’ a lady with blonde highlights said, clapping her hands together. ‘Amy, she’s here!’
Amrita turned to her in delight. ‘Candy, dahling! Just the person I was looking for. Can you take a few pictures of our satsang group for the SoL Facebook profile page?’
So much for candid photography.
‘Sure,’ Risha said.
Another lady with perfect curls and a mole above her lip turned to Risha. ‘Yes, take some nice selfies.’
‘You want me to be in the photo?’ Risha asked, puzzled.
The fake blonde looked at Risha like the idea was preposterous. ‘Of course not, silly! Take selfies of us.’
Resisting the temptation to roll her eyes, Risha suggested, ‘Why don’t we go to the amphitheatre, we can get some great shots there.’
Amrita gathered her troop of kitty-party aunties and marched them to the amphitheatre. After twenty minutes of ‘I look fat in that photo, delete it’, ‘My hair looks frizzy, delete it’, and ‘I have lipstick on my teeth, delete it’, Risha was left with three ‘approved’ photos in her camera.<
br />
‘Great job, ladies!’ Risha said with fake enthusiasm, helping one of them step down on to the stage.
Amrita took Risha aside by the arm and said in a covert whisper, ‘Listen, Candy, I need you to take some couple photos.’
‘Of Nitisha and Rohan?’ Risha asked.
‘No, no. Of Arjun and Divya,’ Amrita clarified.
Risha's face fell. ‘Oh.’ She regained her composure and nodded. ‘Of course.’
So he was dating a girl called Divya. Suddenly it all made sense. On the flight he’d been chattering away with Risha, but now that his girlfriend was here, he didn’t even want to acknowledge her existence. Typical male, Risha thought, irrationally blaming the entire gender for his actions.
Screw him. She was a professional and there’s no way she would let his icy arrogance affect her.
Because it didn't.
‘In fact, Amy,’ Risha said with a resolute smile, ‘there’s a beautiful peepul tree on the east corner of the garden. Tanvi’s team has hung a few lanterns from its branches, and I think it would make a lovely romantic backdrop around sunset. Can you bring them both there in an hour?’
Amrita’s eyes lit up. ‘Of course! Thanks, Candy, you’re a doll.’ She then walked off to air-kiss a group of women her age.
Risha took out her phone and typed a quick message to Nidhi:
When are you getting here?
Nidhi replied:
Don’t kill me but I’m not coming today. I’m working half day tomorrow though, wanna come over for lunch?
Risha groaned and typed back:
Okay, but please remember to remove the dagger from my back before we eat.
Then she sent a text to Rishabh:
Pick me up from Khanna Heights around 9.
Risha headed back up the steps of the amphitheatre. As Arjun had pointed out on the flight, she needed to take his photos to get paid. She purposefully took a seat on the step behind the bar. The height gave her a good view and flexibility, and she was out of the line of sight of the guests. Risha pointed her camera determinedly in the direction of the bar and started shooting.
The Wedding Photographer Page 8