When Hari Met His Saali

by Harsh Warrdhan

  ‘Ugh not the moistest, but the mostest. A little slip of the tongue there.’ He took a sip of water.

  ‘But I want you, Hari, to decide with whom you want to have that kind of experience. Remember, if there is something in this entire universe that can keep growing without any limit, it is love, so the person you choose may not be perfect as of today, but love allows for growth, not just theirs but yours as well. You understand what I am saying?’

  Hari nodded.

  ‘So, I am not going to ask you to pick one of these two, because they are not things, but I want you to think which one you want to experience love with. You understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  And keep it in your head. Don’t say it, don’t tell me. Don’t tell them. Then nod to me when you have decided and I’ll use the release word. After that there will only be two people who know whether the spell got broken and it won’t be Tia or Simi. You understand?’

  Hari understood what Xavier was doing.

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘That way, the choice you make afterwards will be your choice, magic or no magic!’

  Hari nodded. Xavier looked at Simi and Tia. They also nodded.

  ‘Ready?’ Xavier asked one final time.

  Hari nodded and closed his eyes. As he was deciding, everyone waited.

  Oh God, please let him pick Tia. I could never live with him knowing Tia was unhappy.

  Simi had also closed her eyes and was praying.

  Nobody knew what Tia was praying for.

  Tia looked at Xavier and he looked at her. A communication happened between them without anything being said.

  Then Hari opened his eyes and nodded.

  ‘Now, once I say the release word and your decision is announced, you would have picked one of the two sisters. I would like you and her to get married immediately, here and now. We don’t want any more jhagda, OK?’ Xavier asked.

  Hari, Simi and Tia nodded in agreement.

  Xavier closed his eyes, lifted his hand — frailly — touched his middle finger with his thumb and said …

  ‘Ottaca!’ and snapped his fingers.

  Hari’s body trembled for a brief moment and then he regained normalcy. He thanked Xavier.

  Nobody in the room knew whether Hari’s spell was broken or not. Of course, Hari knew but, in spite of his claims, it was doubtful whether Xavier knew or not as he fell asleep immediately.

  Hari turned to face Simi and Tia.

  All over the globe

  Hari’s wedding news travelled fast across cities and states, continents and countries, to reach the shores of Los Angeles and all the way to the Malhotra household. The wedding would take place in Pondicherry at the X-Ashram over the weekend.

  Mary, along with Badi Mama and Nana, had danced a bit in excitement. Badi Mama, the chameleon she was, had instantly declared ‘I knew my bachcha would do us proud. I always knew deep down in my heart that his wedding was going to happen in India.’

  ‘You always know everything and you always say so after the fact,’ Nana said laughingly as she adjusted her fake teeth.

  Barry was overcome with emotion for the first time, although he resisted shaking his leg with the ladies in his home. He was genuinely happy to hear Hari’s confident and decisive voice after a long time.

  The Reddy brothers had insisted that they would take care of Hari’s wedding preparations. And prepare they did. They had descended upon Pondicherry in a caravan of cars with uniformed staff, assistants, servants and assortments of political and police permissions.

  The Reddy brothers’ wives — two sisters called Reshma and Sushma — took over responsibility for the food and festivities and the brothers took over the infrastructure planning for the various functions. The Windflower Resort and Spa on Cuddalore ECR Road was taken over for guests and all the music related events. Smartly, this time, Hari, Tia and Simi had stayed away from making any decisions on how the preparations should be.

  By Friday morning the guests started arriving. The first ones to arrive were Mary, Barry, Badi Mama and Nana who all had a sort of spiritual hug when they saw Hari, Simi and Tia.

  Then came Tia and Simi’s mother. When she met Mary, Simi’s mother thought she had met her long-lost sister. They hit it off instantly. Of course, Simi and Tia’s Mausi and the creepy Mausaji had accompanied their mother as well. People in India don’t often miss weddings no matter where they are.

  Next Chitthi, Cindy, Phil and Jenny arrived. All of them were bowled over by this exotic town as well as the exotic hotel suites they were put up in. An hour later, surprise of surprises, Stephan and Clara showed up. Hari had insisted that the wedding would not happen without them. Clara always wanted to visit South India, so they were delighted by the invitation.

  When Minto was told that this time Hari was getting married in India he had taken offense to the ‘this time’ and on his own initiative had showed to up to check for himself — along with a strange American man who was tall and slim and built like a rocket. They had insisted on staying in the same hotel suite.

  The wedding took place in the traditional South Indian style. The pandits performing the ceremony had insisted upon it. The whole pandit union was like the mafia there. They only knew how to perform a marriage in their own way, which made sense. And actually, ‘this time’ no one wanted to suggest anything for the fear of having a Tia-Hari engagement relapse. Everyone was going with the flow.

  The time of the wedding arrived. On Saturday morning just before the ceremony, Simi and Tia’s mother had requested Xavier to give away her daughter to Hari, as he had had the most impact on their lives in terms of the marriage. Xavier was regaining strength every day and was walking now, so he had agreed.

  Everyone had gathered around the bridegroom.

  According to custom, the bride and the groom were separated by a shawl to block them from seeing each other. On one side was the bridegroom and the other side was the bride.

  Mr. Ayyangar and Mr. Mukherjee held the shawl at each end. It was only when the head pandit made a signal, after they had recited their mantras, that the shawl was supposed to be dropped, allowing the two to see each other. Then they would put a garland around each other’s neck. And only then they would be pronounced husband and wife. It was the equivalent of a priest declaring, ‘you may now kiss the bride’.

  Of course there would be no kissing happening here after the shawl dropped. They don’t do that in public places in India. Not even after you have just been declared married.

  In the moments before the ceremony the guests were getting restless. Hari could hear them murmuring, ‘Is it going to be Simi or Tia?’

  Opinions were divided on who should show up on the other side of the shawl.

  Barry and Mary were maintaining a demeanor of, ‘It doesn’t matter if it is Simi or Tia, as long as Hari is happy.’ Of course, they had their own individual picks, but they were not telling, not even to each other.

  Badi Mama wanted it to be Tia. Hari needed a tough, assertive and decisive woman.

  Enough said, why aren’t they serving wine yet?

  Nana wanted it to be Simi.

  Such a sohni kudi.

  Nana wanted Hari to have a wife and not a boss.

  Enough said, where’s that wine?

  Stephan felt that even though Tia came across as career-oriented, independent and sometimes mean, she deserved Hari. Clara, on the other hand, was rooting for Simi. She argued that she was the girl that deserved the life that Hari could provide.

  Chitthi knew whom Hari would decide upon.

  Jenny knew whom Hari had decided upon.

  Minto was distracted with the haphazard way the ceremony was taking place. The only thing he was impressed with so far was the whole shawl business. He was visualizing that if he ever incorporated that at the Malibu Beach Club, the shawl could be lowered electronically, with cables, controlled remotely with …

  But there was one woman who showed only pride on her face — Mrs. Galhotra.
She was, by now, confident that her two daughters would support each other no matter which one got married. She felt that that was an achievement of the way she brought them up.

  The two sisters were not even present; they were in a tiny room upstairs. They were both getting dressed.

  This time, one was going to be the other’s bridesmaid. This time, one was going to escort the other to the man of their dreams.

  When they were ready to leave the room, they said to each other ‘This is it!’ almost simultaneously. They burst out laughing.

  As they entered the hall, everyone stood up. They both looked gorgeous dressed in simple sarees as they walked elegantly, hand-in-hand together towards the shawl.

  There was no spotlight, there were no thrones, there was no DJ, no assigned seating, no temperature-controlled environment … there was not even an air-conditioner. The rickety fans were whirring overhead providing a unique sound effect to the sole shehnai — a conical, double-reed wind instrument whose sound is thought to create and maintain a sense of auspiciousness and sanctity — played by an overenthusiastic local musician.

  The way guests were herded to the one end of the hall, they could see Hari was dressed in a white silk lungi, but they couldn’t see who was going to be the bride and who was going to be the bridesmaid. They were all made to stand behind Hari, supposedly to symbolize that when Hari saw his bride, so would the rest of the world.

  On the other side of the shawl were Tia, Simi and their stand-in father, Xavier.

  The pandit started his puja and mantra and soon other junior pandits joined him to form a chorus of mantras, which to be completely honest sounded, at times, like they were shouting slogans at a political rally. But no one was laughing, no one was even trying to sneak a peek to see who was the bride-to-be behind the shawl — Tia or Simi.

  Multiple times during the long ‘procedure’ it seemed like the pandits had concluded their puja as the crescendo of their chanting dipped to almost nil, but then they started up again. This happened several times.

  After what seemed like forever, the head pandit signaled, the shawl was dropped, and looking back at Hari was …

  … Simi.

  Hari looked at Tia one last time. And although Tia had tears in her eyes, she nodded to Hari. They were tears of joy.

  Hari put the garland over Simi’s head. And then Simi put the garland over his.

  Hari and Simi were married and the triangle of love was complete.

  Or was it?

  Of course it was!

  But several things happened after the wedding ceremony. If their love story were a movie, the following would have happened over the closing credits.

  As soon as they were alone the first thing Simi told Hari, in a very Tia style way, was this:

  ‘Do not think you picked me like one item over the other on a food menu. You will not forget that, ultimately, I agreed to marry you. Had I said no, you would have had no Simi, no Tia.’

  ‘Of course, I know that, Simi.’ Hari noticed a Tia demeanor in Simi in the way she was standing with her hands on her hips. He was not sure the smile on his face was that of familiarity or of nervousness. But he was glad about what she said next.

  ‘We will never talk about what happened between the three of us. Ever.’ And she had relaxed her hands-on-the-hips stance.

  ‘Yes, we will be the only couple who would deny any magic in our relationship!’ He said with deadpan humor. It made her laugh.

  Phew.

  Hari and Simi went on a honeymoon to the idyllic McLeod Ganj near Dharamshala in Himachal Pradesh. It was a ten-day blissful stay for both of them, where Simi, finally, experienced the actual boom-boom-shaka-laka boom. This time she had no doubt that it had actually happened … over and over again.

  Since Hari had failed to bring her a single flower, said anything nice to her per se and lounged on the sofa with snot hanging out of his nose she knew that the real Hari was back!

  Truly the spell had been broken and he had chosen her without the influence of magic or hypnosis.

  He had chosen me for who I am and not because of magic.

  Simi was very happy and meanwhile Hari suspected that something strange was happening to him. Sometimes he would snap out of a daze and realize that he had just given Simi a long massage. He wondered why he could not remember why he was giving her a massage almost every night, and every morning. Plus Simi didn’t seem to return the same favor.

  What he didn’t know was that before Simi left the X-Ashram for McLeod Ganj, Xavier had taken her aside and told her a little trick. It had something to do with saying abracadabra and had also given her a release word. She was to use it from time to time, for brief periods, to make her man do the things she wanted him to do. But Simi was diligent with its use. Only once had she had Hari cook for her during the honeymoon, but she couldn’t resist it with the massages of course.

  Hari and Simi had decided that for the first two years of their marriage, they would stay with her mother in Nagpur. Hari would handle the Hyderabad unit of his company during that time. The whole of Nagpur would be stunned that Simi landed an American catch like Hari.

  Now that Simi and Xavier knew the truth about Hari, Tia had her own suspicions. Tia would Skype them obsessively, casually asking probing questions like, ‘Simi, I pray for your happiness every day. You are happy, na?’ or ‘Did Hari remember it was Valentine’s Day today?’

  Of course, Simi and her mother knew what Tia was doing. They would laugh about it.

  ‘Is she checking upon us?’ Hari would often ask.

  ‘Of course she is. Don’t you know Tia?’ Simi would smile and explain to Hari.

  What they didn’t know was that after they had left for their honeymoon, Tia had hung back at the X-Ashram for a few days. It was right after Tia’s mother had hugged her and said to her, ‘I wish your father could see us today. Like he predicted, you girls have made me proud, beta.’

  Even Mary had hugged Tia with respect and in gratitude.

  ‘I now know what you had wished for at the Malibu Temple.’

  After everyone was gone, Tia had stayed back.

  ‘I need some time for myself.’

  She would bother Xavier by asking him whether Hari’s spell was truly broken or not. Of course, Xavier would not tell her either way, but by the fifth day it had gotten so bad that to this day Tia is barred from entering the X-Ashram, forever.

  Tia took the next flight back home … to Los Angeles.

  While Hari was in India, Tia would spend so much time at Mary’s house, she almost started living there. Mary and Barry would introduce her to others as their daughter.

  Tia’s Bollywood Wednesday nights were now called My Movie, My Wine Nights.

  The New York project was completed on time and within budget.

  Tia was made a junior partner at Stephan’s architecture firm and was now making serious money.

  Even her personal life had started looking up.

  In the last couple of months she had been seeing a guy called Siddharth ‘Sid’ Rallan. They had gone out on a few dates and liked each other a lot. They used to generally hang out as well. He was a great talker, and a listener as well. Tia had some reservations about him … of course. His height was an issue; he was too tall. Then there was his last name, which she didn’t like. She’d have to change her entire last name should she marry him. She was so used to the idea of going from Galhotra to Malhotra that this one was a big issue for her to overcome. It called for a major adjustment on her behalf, so she was taking it easy. Not making any hard decisions.

  She had even taken him to casually meet up with Barry and Mary. Mary had given him the thumbs up, while Badi Mamma and Nana had winked at her. Tia was not sure if it was to show their approval or not, but she was happy she had the Malhotras standing by her.

  But Tia seesawed a lot.

  And as fate would have it she was introduced to a guy called Adirath ‘Adi’ Rallan, who was Sid’s younger brother and lived in Ind
ia. They had only met briefly when she had gone to see him off with Sid at the airport. He was a lawyer and couldn’t stop talking about a TV show currently running in India called The Practice.

  When they said goodbye their hands had brushed accidently.

  At first she didn’t think too much of their brief airport encounter, or their hands touching, or the electric current that had run through her body, but she couldn’t deny that she was rendered almost speechless.

  But the words that had come out of her mouth had surprised even her.

  ‘Oh, Bobby Donnell!’

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  © 2014 Harsh Warrdhan

  Published in India 2014 by

  Harlequin India Private Limited

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  ISBN 978-9-351-06412-1

  Typeset in Garamond 10/12.2 by

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  Printed and bound by Thomson Press (India) Ltd.