Marriage by Arrangement

by Sophia Singh Sasson

  His mother didn’t miss a beat. “Don’t be stupid. Of course you are.”

  “I’ve fallen in love. I don’t think it’s fair to Hema to marry her when my heart belongs to someone else.” He didn’t want to betray Hema’s confidence by telling his mother that she didn’t want to marry him, either. He’d talked with Hema earlier that morning and she’d promised to come clean with her parents and tell them she didn’t want to marry him. He’d explained the potential business fallout if they thought he was the only one breaking the rishta.

  “You’ve been in love before,” his mother said coldly. “Besides, have you forgotten the implications of breaking the rishta with Hema’s family?”

  “Our business deal benefits them too. They’re astute enough to know that pulling out now is a loss for both our families.”

  “That’s not the point and you know it. This rishta was a way to permanently bind our families together in a way business deals can’t. And have you forgotten what a lovely girl Hema is? She knows our family parampara. We will never find anyone better suited to be your wife.”

  “Hema is a good woman but I don’t love her in the way a husband should love a wife.”

  She fisted the dough for the paranthas. “Who is this girl you’re in love with? The one from yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “The divorcée?”

  “Her name is Rani, and she’s an interior architect. She’s intelligent, caring and my equal in every way.”

  His father appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Jhanvi, you beat that dough any further and you’ll break the stone counter.”

  “Come and listen to what your son has to say. He’s fallen in love with that girl from last night, that divorcée, and he doesn’t want to marry Hema.” Without waiting for his father to comment she continued. “What do you see in her, Arjun? Even if you don’t want to marry Hema, every eligible girl in India is dying to marry you. This girl is not particularly beautiful, she’s not that thin and I saw the way she looked at you when you asked her to touch our feet. What qualities does she have that make her right for our family?”

  He took a breath to keep his voice calm, doubly glad that he hadn’t let Rani hear this conversation. “You’re talking about the woman I love. You don’t know Rani. If you did you’d see that she is beautiful inside and out. She is intelligent, accomplished, she understands me...”

  “And Hema is none of those things?”

  “Hema is like my sister. We’ve grown up together. I just don’t feel for her the way I do for Rani.”

  “Son...” Arjun’s father had been listening silently to the exchange, but the deep baritone in his voice made Arjun cringe. He recognized it. It was the voice any father used when telling his son that he was in big trouble. Arjun suddenly felt like he was ten years old and had been caught beating on his brother.

  “I know what you’re going to say. We made a promise to Hema’s family and we always keep our vachan. But—”

  “You don’t know what I’m going to say. And since when do you interrupt your father?”

  Arjun took a breath. Now was not the time to get into an argument about pointless things.

  “We have been fighting to make sure that the children of our house, our daughters especially, are not corrupted by the Western influences that have taken over India. Day by day we are losing our culture. You are the eldest son. It will be your job to keep the parampara of the house alive after your mother and I are dead. Your wife will be the eldest bahu of the house and more than you, she will keep the izzat, the respect of our family name. She will make sure that the next generation is raised with the same values that we raised you with. Is Rani going to be able to fulfill that role?”

  This was the part that worried Arjun the most. It was the argument he had avoided having with his parents his whole life, and one where there would be no winners.

  “Dad, don’t you think that as times have changed, we too must evolve as a family? Not to change our values, but perhaps some of our traditions, our way of doing things.”

  “Jhanvi and my parents arranged our marriage. We’ve been happily married for thirty-six years.”

  “But your marriage was unconventional, was it not?” Arjun’s heart hammered. He knew there was no turning back if he said the next words, but he had to. “Dad, you were from a wealthy family and in those days, you married in the same money class in order to consolidate wealth. But Ma, while from a family with lineage, your family had nothing. It took a change in tradition for dad’s family to accept you. And for your family to accept that I already existed, which meant you would not give birth to the household heir.”

  “Arjun, how dare you?” his mother said sharply.

  “Even traditions have to evolve with time to stay relevant. Ma, most women of your generation were married off by the time they were sixteen. But you didn’t marry my sisters off. Why are you willing to break that tradition but not others?”

  “And you see where your sisters are now? They want to work, and to have their own money.”

  “And what’s wrong with that? You know we almost lost everything ten years ago when tourism crashed in India. We all need a career to fall back on. You educated me and Sameer, so it’s right to do the same for my sisters. I work, why can’t Divya? In fact, for the last month she’s been incredibly helpful in the Jaipur office. So many things I couldn’t take care of, she has handled even better than me. What gives me and Sameer the right to run your business, Dad? Why not Divya?”

  “Because that’s not the way society works. One day Divya will get married and have a household with her own husband and children to look after. They won’t be part of our gharana. Why are you suddenly questioning our way of life?”

  “This must be Rani’s influence,” his mother muttered bitterly.

  “I have always felt this way but never questioned you.”

  “Because we raised you the right way. A few months with that girl and look at what’s happening,” Jhanvi said.

  Arjun sighed. He’d expected the conversation to go badly but he was drowning.

  “You know nothing about Rani.”

  “We had her investigated when the first picture surfaced,” Dharampal said.

  Anger boiled inside him and the only thing keeping him calm was the realization that flying off the handle would just make things worse for him and Rani.

  “She divorced her ex-husband for no apparent reason. He came from a respectable family. What makes you think she can commit to you?” Jhanvi asked.

  “You have no idea what kind of guy her ex-husband is. Khandan isn’t the only thing that determines a person’s character. Rani was right to leave him. I have no doubt that she’s committed to me.” Even as he said the words, he shifted on his feet. The very things he loved about Rani, her independence, her strength, would clash with his everyday family life. Would she be able to adjust?

  “But is she committed to our family? To our traditions?”

  Arjun wanted to answer yes, but he couldn’t. He and Rani had been avoiding the conversation because she didn’t want to disappoint him, and he didn’t want to face the fact that he’d have to choose between Rani and his parents. A choice that was staring him in the face now.

  “She will make some compromises, and so must we,” he answered carefully.

  “But why?” his mother asked.

  “Why what?”

  “Why must we compromise our values, our ideals?”

  “I’m not as traditional as you want me to be. I agree with my sisters that they should have more freedom. Rani understands me. She can be my partner in life in a way Hema never can.”

  “We are not talking about this anymore. I’m making breakfast, and you will come to your senses, Arjun,” his mother said decisively.

  After a tensely silent breakfast, Arjun’s mother excused herself. She had brou
ght a few of her maids with her from India and the women efficiently went about cleaning the kitchen. He and his father stepped onto the balcony with a cup of chai.

  “Son, I’m going to tell you about the time I married your mother.”

  Arjun sighed inwardly. He had heard the arranged marriage story a million times.

  “Not Jhanvi, your birth mother.”

  Arjun looked at his father in surprise. He never talked about Arjun’s birth mother. There weren’t any pictures of her in the family archives, no mention of her among the older servants who knew his grandparents. The only evidence of her existence was Arjun himself.

  “Your grandfather had arranged my marriage to Jhanvi when we were children. When I was barely eighteen, I fell in love with Savitri. She was beautiful and exciting, and she came from a good family who had money and status. I thought for sure my father would be happy to break the rishta with Jhanvi. By then her family had lost all their wealth and were no longer in the same social class as us. But my father said no. He said we made a promise to Jhanvi and her family and we didn’t want their hai, the curse of their ill feelings.”

  Arjun shifted in his chair.

  “But I was insistent. So much so that I ran away and had a priest marry us without our parents present. Savitri was always traumatized by the fact that her father wasn’t there to give her away. The resentment from our families ate at both of us. Despite the fact that we were married, we were never happy. And then she died giving birth to you. I think our marriage was cursed from the beginning without the blessing of our parents.”

  Arjun saw the sincerity in his father’s eyes. While he didn’t believe in curses, he could see how parental disapproval could wreak havoc on a close-knit family. There was a child inside every adult who wanted nothing more than to please his or her parents. He’d seen that longing and pain in Rani’s eyes every time she talked about her parents.

  “I didn’t know how to care for a baby. The aiyas took care of you, but a servant can’t provide a mother’s love. My father begged forgiveness from Jhanvi’s father, and I from her. She not only married me, she loved you. In fact, we delayed having children because she wanted to give you her love exclusively. I didn’t love Jhanvi when we married, but I love her more now than I ever loved Savitri. She made a home for me and my children. She brought our family together. My love for her has grown with age because each day I appreciate more and more how important the things my father talked about really are. I scoffed at him when he talked about parampara but it’s only when I didn’t have it, when there was chaos in my house that I understood what he was saying. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

  “How are you so sure that Rani won’t do for our house what Ma did? That she won’t be able to bring our generations together? Maybe she is exactly what we need to bridge the divide between our parampara and the new world we live in. Rani grew up in a traditional household like us and she’s struggled with this all her life. She understands how to handle it. She’s the one who came up with the solution for Divya to work for us in the Jaipur office.”

  “A decision I don’t agree with. I think we should have told Divya she can’t work.”

  “And then what, Dad? Divya would meekly sit at home and be happy? She’d be miserable and fight us on every little thing, ruining the peace of the house. Instead, she’s helping us run our family business and—”

  “And every day she and your other sisters are feeling more emboldened to break the house rules.”

  “Dad, just like we modernized our hotels, we must change our household or—”

  “Or all of the children will rebel like you. Arjun, have you forgotten that our wisdom stopped you from making a mistake with that other girl?”

  Arjun fought the rage boiling deep in his belly. For the last ten years, he had worked tirelessly to secure and expand the family fortunes. To ensure the future for his siblings. He’d supported his parents even when he didn’t agree with their decisions. He’d made a mistake with Lakshmi, but that was the inexperience of his youth. He was a thirty-eight-year-old man who managed a company worth nearly ten billion dollars.

  Does Dad still see me as that foolish boy who fell for a gold digger?

  “I’m not rebelling, Dad, I’m choosing how to live my personal life. You trust me to make critical decisions that affect our family business every day. Decisions that determine all our futures. Why can’t you trust me to know what’s best for me?”

  “Because men cannot be trusted to differentiate between love and desire.” Jhanvi’s voice cut through the air. She was talking to Arjun but her gaze was fixed on her husband. She moved towards Arjun. “When you come back to India, you’ll marry Hema. If you can’t accept that, then I suggest you don’t return.”

  Twenty

  “You asked to see her?” Em asked incredulously.

  Rani nodded, miserably picking at the pasta salad Em had made her for lunch. They were in the kitchen of their shared apartment. Em had decorated the room in a folksy style with small pictures of chickens and ducks that had been painted by her patients. The two-person dining room table was made of reclaimed barn wood. Rani loved the cozy warmth of this kitchen. Was she really ready to go back to large, shiny appliances that only chefs knew how to use? Then she thought about making lamb saag and masala chai with Arjun and tears stung her eyes.

  “I’m tired of everyone thinking they know best how to handle my love life. I need to meet with his mother and decide for myself whether I can be with Arjun. So I called his condo and asked if I could come over to meet with her. She said she’d been about to call and ask me over for tea. I guess great minds think alike.”

  “Wow.” Em had a rare morning off from the hospital, and rather than sleeping or catching up on her never ending to-do list, she had spent the time keeping Rani company, listening with endless patience as she vented, then strategized, then cried about how to handle the situation.

  “How much money do you think she’ll offer you to remove your claws from her son?”

  Rani cracked a smile. “How much should I accept?”

  Em clicked on her phone, tucking her hot pink hair behind her ear. “Google says his family net worth is unknown but they’re estimated to be in the top one hundred richest families in the world. I say you ask for a beach house in Hawaii.”

  “I jumped into things too quickly,” Rani said miserably. “You should’ve seen him with his parents last night. They walked all over him. That’s what it was like with Navin.”

  “And what you’re like with your own parents,” Em said gently.

  “I’ve just gotten control over my life. I have the money to start my own consulting firm. I don’t want to give all that up.”

  “You don’t think true love is worth making some sacrifices?”

  “That sounds great on a refrigerator magnet but you need more than love in reality. For the first time in my life, I don’t have to answer to anyone but myself. I don’t have to live my life because of obligations or traditions or because someone else wants to control me.”

  “Why does it have to be that way? You can still pursue your career dreams. As far as letting someone control your life, that’s on you, Rani. You couldn’t help how you grew up but you let Navin’s family dominate you. I think you understand that now. This time, you’re taking charge of this situation. What do you want Arjun to do?”

  “I know this is wrong of me, but I want him to make the big gesture and tell me he’s going to give it all up. I need to know that he’s willing to sacrifice for me. I’m not getting into another one-way marriage.”

  * * *

  When she arrived at Arjun’s condo, she was immediately struck by the change. The furnishings were the same, all his stuff was in the same place, but the air was literally different. The kitchen was fragrant with the smell of cardamom and cinnamon. A gray-haired woman in a navy sari Rani didn’t recognize let
her in and asked her to sit on the couch, then disappeared. As she looked over at the kitchen, two different women dressed in the same navy saris were moving about, preparing trays. Rani sat uncomfortably on the couch. Even the stunning view didn’t soothe the churning in her stomach.

  “Ah Rani, you’re here.” Arjun’s mother was dressed in dark silk pants and a rich green tunic with gold embroidery. Her salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back into a bun, and elegantly simple emerald solitaires glittered at her ears. By comparison, after some panicked wardrobe flinging, Em had helped Rani pair one of her suit pants with a cream-colored silk button-down blouse. Her jewelry was a single pearl on a gold chain and small pearl earrings.

  Rani’s mouth was dry as she stood. She suddenly realized she didn’t know how to address Arjun’s mother. Mrs. Singh seemed too impersonal and Auntie seemed too casual. She managed a namaste.

  Jhanvi nodded toward the couch. “Sit. What will you have? Chai or coffee?”

  Rani didn’t want anything but she smiled politely. “Whatever you’re having.”

  Jhanvi clicked her fingers and yet another navy sari-clad woman appeared. “Gauri, chai.” The woman vanished.

  “Thank you for seeing me. I appreciate the opportunity to clear the air.” Rani delivered her practiced opening with a throat so tight that her voice came out in a croak.

  Jhanvi gave her a tight-lipped smile. “When a son gets taken in by a woman, it’s a mother’s job to get to know her.”

  Rani’s stomach knotted even tighter. Two women appeared carrying trays. One contained a tea service and another an assortment of sandwiches, cookies and Indian sweets.

  Rani took a sip of the perfectly brewed masala chai that was handed to her, then set the cup on the table. “What would you like to know about me?”

  Jhanvi took several slow sips of her tea before setting her cup down. She picked up a small plate filled with cucumber sandwiches and held it out to Rani, who shook her head. “Try them. My cook, Neelu, makes these with fresh cilantro chutney.”