by Anubha Mehta
Why did I have to leave my home? This was where I belonged.
I felt my eyes burn with tears.
3.
“COME ON! Is this the fastest you can drive?” My mother-in-law was shouting at the driver. Her relatives were waiting to complete the rest of the wedding ceremonies at Veer’s house. I was sandwiched between my new mother-in-law and my new husband. I could not breathe. I think I had been crying. Our Mercedes Benz was covered with red balloons and white satin ribbons with a pink cardboard heart that said: “Forever After.”
I looked at Veer hoping for some solace from him, but his face was turned away from mine. Why would he not look at me? Did he have regrets? Did I? I wondered if all young brides in my predicament felt the same. A chill ran down my legs and settled at the edge of my little toe. I knew I had to face my fears. I opened my mind and let the insidious voice in, finally.
In a flash, I was back to a few weeks ago, when Veer had taken me to meet his parents, Rani and Ranvir Rajsinghania. Veer had never mentioned his parents, so I hadn’t known what to expect.
“Maya, make sure you clean behind your ears, pin up that wild hair, wear something decent. And practise several lines about the weather and cricket … yes, definitely cricket … that never goes wrong.” Anita had advised, having too much fun with my unease.
“Why do I have to meet them, Anita?” I asked the obvious question, hoping for a less obvious answer.
It was raining heavily when we reached a posh restaurant in the congested Connaught Place circle. As we stepped inside, the smell of re-used oil, possibly from chilli cheese toast and pakoras, clogged our nostrils. There were servers balancing teapots on oval trays and navigating through crowds of people waiting to be seated. It took Veer less than a second, amidst the chaos, to spot his parents at the back.
“Mom, Dad, this is Maya, my friend!”
Veer’s father was a delicate-looking, well-dressed man. He had the same long face as Veer’s but with smaller eyes and a thin moustache. He wore a three-piece cots wool suit and a bow tie with matching suspenders. He held a smoking pipe between his slender fingers and a half-finished glass of whiskey in the other hand. There was a definite air of privilege about him. He immediately threw up his arms and gave me a warm bear hug. “Hello, hello, dear girl!”
And then I turned to see Veer’s mother. She was staring at me blankly, silently. I lowered my head and said, “Hello, Mrs. Rajsinghania. It is very nice to meet you.” She attempted a pretentious smile but remained silent.
This was an awkward moment, one that I had not expected. Veer felt my distress and gestured to a seat opposite her. There was something about the piercing brazenness of her gaze that made me feel unmasked, as if I had committed a crime without knowing what it was.
To cover up, it seemed, Veer’s father started talking loudly: “Very soon you will meet Veer’s mother’s sisters, Kitty and Minnie.”
Much to my relief, Veer sat down next to me and started talking about his win at the last inter-college match.
I stole a sideways glance at his mother. She was a hefty, well-groomed woman with chiselled eyebrows, a sharp nose, and a large cut for a mouth under thin lips. She had specks of grey deliberately arranged within the strands of deep auburn hair that framed her square face, lending it an arrogant sophistication.
Gradually, as Veer unfolded his victory story, his mother stirred a little. And after five minutes she spoke up, chiming into Veer’s narrative by interrupting him frequently and twiddling her thumbs. “Oh, that’s very nice son. Keep it up. Remember how proud we are of you.” Veer smiled and bowed his head in gratitude.
And then to my absolute horror, Veer started talking about my accomplishments, with what I suspected was little hope of acceptance from her. Her approval, I sensed, was important to him. I could see the pressure he was under to justify choosing me over the other more eligible offers his parents may have entertained. “Do you know, Mom, that Maya plays the sitar and … and last year she won the award for the best classical music performer of the year at school?”
Veer’s mother’s face clouded, and I noticed her facial muscles tighten, as if she was restraining an outburst. There was dead silence at our table. It was as if Veer had said something forbidden. Was it about the sitar? Or about my award? When she spoke after a few minutes, it was directly to Veer. “Well, well, you see … none of us Rajsinghanias feel the need to publicly exhibit ourselves through singing and dancing. There is just no need for such charades.”
“Mom! Stop! What are you doing?” Veer stood up, rattled.
This entire visit was a bad idea. I picked up my bag and was about to follow him out of the restaurant when we heard a couple of shrill voices calling his name: “Veer … you hoo! Veer darling!” Kitty and Minnie had arrived.
“Oh hella, hella, our dear handsome buoooy.” The taller of the two kissed him on the forehead, and the other smeared her red lipstick on his cheek.
“Well, well, what did we miss?” asked the taller one. She was wearing a revealing red silk blouse over a tight black leather skirt that she kept adjusting clumsily to hide her self-consciousness. Her shorter sister had a fixed grin that lent her a certain forged pleasantness, and she was more at ease in her oversized kurta and terylene pants. Indisputably, both shared the same facial features as Veer’s mother.
Veer’s father spoke up. “Meet Kitty,” he pointed to the taller one, “and this is Minnie, the mini one, ha, ha, ha,” he said, tickled by his own statement.
I had no choice but to come out of the shadows into the light of the overhanging table lamp to face them. Veer’s father gestured toward me. “Meet Veer’s special friend, Maya.”
“Oh my God!” Kitty’s hand flew over her open mouth, her face as white as if she had seen a ghost. She sat down slowly in the chair, her eyes fixed on my face.
Minnie was a bit more restrained in comparison. “Aha hallo, hallo. Very nice to meet you,” she said, with the same look of surprise on her face.
I did not know what the matter was. Why was everyone in Veer’s family behaving so rudely to me? I did not want to stay a single moment longer. I did not want to see any of them ever again.
As if reading my mind, Veer blurted, “Well, we were just leaving….”
“What nonsense! You are doing no such thing. We have just arrived.” And with that, Kitty pulled Veer into a chair between the two of them.
I quietly retreated back into the shadows of the corner chair, hoping to be forgotten. It was much easier watching them from the darkness.
I knew then that I did not belong in Veer’s world.
I had made my decision. I was a dearly loved child in my own house and I would never get used to such irrational hostility stemming from no fault of mine.
When we finally got back to my house, I was determined. “Veer it’s over,” I said firmly. “I don’t want to see you anymore. Please go now,”
“You must be crazy, Maya. It can never be over.”
Veer was smart enough to guess why I wanted to end it, but as I had expected, he completely ignored my words. So I shut the door on his face.
The next morning when I woke up, it was raining again. The air was hot and suffocating. I rose and went to my window to open the blinds, and there he was. Drenched and slouching under the jacaranda tree across the street. I noticed that he was wearing the same clothes as last night. Had he even gone home? I sent our housekeeper with an umbrella and then left for university. After dinner, my father answered the doorbell to find a policeman at our doorstep.
“Good evening, Sir. I was on my usual rounds of this area and found a young man camping on the street across your house. Do you know who he is?”
Papa looked at me and I shook my head. “No, I don’t know him, Papa.” I blatantly lied and then bit my lower lip to numb the pain.
The next morning, he was still there. From my bed
room window, I could see dark hollows around his eyes and the beginning of a little stubble of a beard. It was the second day now. I didn’t know if he had eaten, but it seemed like he had definitely been sleeping on the rubble under the tree. His hair was streaked with wet mud, and his clothes were spotted with grime and dirt.
It was a battle of wills now. I was not going to get bullied by Veer. I shut my windows tightly and did not open them till a few days after. It was the fifth day, Friday, and the last day of my class. The rain had passed and the mugginess had lifted. I wanted the sun to soak each damp corner of my room. So I swung open the shutters. Instantly, my eyes went to look at the spot under the jacaranda tree. It was empty.
So, he had left. I sat down on my bed, relieved but gloomy. My heart was heavy, somehow. Why was I sad? This was what I had wanted.
As I was leaving the house an hour later, there was a small crowd in our driveway. I went to see what the commotion was. “Madam, there is a man lying unconscious near your car. Please come and look.”
Something exploded in my chest. I did not have to look. I knew who it was. I ran. He was lying on his back and his eyes were closed. I lifted his head and rested it on my lap. I could barely see his face through my tears. Someone brought a glass of water, and I dipped my scarf to dab his face. He looked completely dehydrated. The hollows under his eyes had become deep pits, and the stubble had turned into a short beard.
“Veer, open your eyes. Veer, it’s me. You win. Just open your eyes,” I cried.
My father had come out now. He was surprised to see me nursing a stranger and weeping.
“Maya, what are you doing? Who is this? Do you know him?” his voice had lost its usual composure.
“Yes Papa, I know him. This is Veer.”
***
I was jerked painfully back to the present from my flashback as the driver slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a cat that was crossing the road.
Our wedding car had turned a corner. We had reached Veer’s mansion. Tall wrought iron gates were flung open by a uniformed gatekeeper, who was quick to salute us from under his grey hat. It was a long winding drive. After a few minutes, I noticed a peering crowd that had gathered behind a great colonnade of grandfather trees that lined the road on both sides. Some of them were waving their streamers and others were throwing marigold petals at our moving car. Veer rolled down the window and I took a deep breath of the cool night air. A soft drizzle of velvet marigolds brushed my cheeks. A night heron squawked for its mate somewhere in the branches of the fuchsia bougainvillaea. I guessed that we were nearing the house, as the crowd swelled from the shadows, waving and cheering. I instinctively waved back, and the cheering became louder.
“We Rajsinghanias don’t need to wave to the crowd. Roll up the window please.” Veer’s mother’s instructions were swift. I quietly obeyed.
She continued without looking at me. “I have arranged for Sheila, our oldest governess, to take care of you till you settle in. Sheila is also good at explaining the likes and preferences of our family. You will meet her soon.”
“Who is Sheila?” I whispered to Veer.
“She was the governess for my grandmother, and she has stayed with our family ever since,” Veer replied before he turned his face again, this time for good.
A welcoming silver sheen from a full celestial moon spread itself before us. Large domes over three stone storeys glowed with earthen candles. And in that instant, the sapphire sky burst into streams of fireworks, each climaxing into an ecstasy of colour, perfectly timed with our arrival.
Our car pulled into the circular stone driveway. I looked up and saw the cold, towering walls of the main entrance.
Something stirred inside me. There was a bizarre magnetism in this place. It felt like Veer’s mansion had been waiting for me to come home to it. But how could that be? I had never seen Veer’s house before. Had I visited this in a dream?
The driver honked ceremoniously to announce our arrival. Instantly, the stone porch came alive with the painted faces of glittering women flashing jewellery and perfumed torsos. The men lingered behind in black tuxedos with gelled hair and neckties, or shervanis and tightly-wound turbans.
I wanted to hide.
As the driver held the door open, the intoxicating night jasmine filled my lungs. I took a deep breath and stepped out. But my gown had grown heavier and my heels higher. I fell. And heard laughter. My eyes clouded up with pain from a grazed knee and from the humiliation. And then familiar steady hands quickly pulled me up. I looked into Veer’s tender eyes, and that was all that I was thankful for.
The laughter had turned into deliberate commentary: “Oh, how small she is. Very thin, but pretty. Look at the peacocks on her gown! Our poor Veer, he is sooo hooked for life!” More laughter.
I was a bird in a cage.
“Come this way.” An army of younger girls ushered me to a flight of stairs. I looked for Veer but he had been escorted to the waiting lounge already.
I entered a palatial living room full of more fashionable people. The chatter was louder than the music, but the noise died down as I entered. I bent my head. Veer was walking a little ahead of me, surrounded by his mother and aunts. There were relatives sitting on both sides of the hall.
As we reached the podium, Kitty excitedly tore into the microphone. “Hella, hella, everyone. Our dear nephew Veer has arrived with his bride, and we are ready for the games to begin just as soon as they settle in. So, till then, why don’t we all move towards the gardens in the East wing before the bar and the caterers pack up.” The hall boomed with an echo of claps and cheers. Veer’s mother turned to her sisters. “Before the games begin, take Maya to change into the sari we have selected for this ceremony.”
I did not want to leave Veer’s side. Everything was new, everyone a stranger. But I didn’t have the courage to fuss either. I knew that all eyes were following my every move. So, I meekly followed the aunts towards a long passage.
We entered a breezy veranda that overlooked a dark enchanting garden with tall ashoka and gulmohar trees guarding smaller pomegranate, mango, and lemon trees. The veranda was at play with the garden and the breeze was the referee, sliding in between cement pillars and thick, rubbery branches. But then, as we walked further, the playfulness gave way to tugging and the breeze started pulling at my wedding gown, beckoning me toward the darkness under the branches as it bumped into my chest, talking to me. “Welcome!”
I stopped walking. Surely I was hallucinating with the stress of the night. Was I going mad? Wind does not speak, it cannot.
I looked up. I was thankful for the evenly spaced crystal chandeliers on the high ceiling. Their light reflected with prism sharpness and destroyed all darkness. But their piercing glow was making me dizzy. My legs caved in, but before I could drop, I felt a cold bony hand slip under my elbow to steady me. I screamed. But my voice was hijacked by the wind. I turned to face who it was.
A frail old woman was looking directly at me. Her skin was clawed with tales of a life she had endured and survived. There was something melancholy, almost dark about her. Her head was bent, but the sharp eyes that peered from under a pashmina headscarf were alert. She noticed that I was shaking.
Minnie and Kitty had stopped too. They had been walking ahead and constantly whispering in each other’s ears. They reached us. “Maya, meet Sheila, our head governess,” Kitty introduced us. “She has been with the family since before Veer’s grandparents were married. She was Veer’s grandmother’s governess, and she knows all the family’s secrets … I mean, the family’s ways!” She giggled.
Minnie pinched Kitty on her arm to stop her from revealing more information.
“Maya, Sheila will help you settle in.” Minnie closed the conversation safely.
I looked at Sheila again and smiled for the first time since I had arrived in Veer’s house.
Sheila smiled bac
k. “Welcome,” she said.
I had stopped shaking. Yes, maybe, just maybe, with the help of Sheila, I could make this my new home.
4. SHEILA
SINCE RANI MADAM had given me painkillers, my back was not hurting as much as it had last week. Then again, nothing could hurt me today. For today was a special day when happiness would fly in to absorb the gloom.
I had been floating on a cloud since Master Ranvir had gathered all of us staff in the living hall to personally break the news. “A week from now, our son Veer is getting married! And we will rejoice with a celebration that will not be easily forgotten for a long time!”
The pure butter sweets that were handed out to us took me back to the old days of the Master’s father’s wedding. It was the same season—just before winter set in—and it was the same feeling of happiness.
Yes, yes. I will wear my most expensive pashmina shawl and my old Banarasi sari with pure zari, I thought. It had been given to me by Master Ranvir’s father on his wedding day. So what if the zari was too bright for my old body? Let those upstart young maids laugh at me, I didn’t care. Occasions like this didn’t come every day and who knew if I would be alive for the next one.
The wedding guests had already started arriving from out of town.
I had been supervising our head housekeeper, Bahadur, and his team. These days, one can no longer trust the domestic help. Everything had to be personally inspected. There was no sincerity in their work. These no-good village drifters ended up in such houses just to have a good time, nothing else.
Maybe that was the reason Rani Madam called me yesterday to assign special duties to me. “Sheila, I want you to look after Veer’s bride till she understands her role in this house.”
I felt like history was repeating itself. Once again it has fallen on me to keep the sanity of this new bride. Once again it will be up to me to inform her about the limits of tolerance in this house. I didn’t want to do this again. But how could I tell Rani Madam? How could I tell anyone?