by Anubha Mehta
Only she knew how difficult it was for me when I supervised under her time. Only she watches over me. I can feel her presence lingering in the shadows of a full moon, hear her in the swiftness of the wind and the crevasses of the roof beams. Oh, I had to snap out of this mood. In a few hours Master Veer would arrive with his bride. It was time for me to rest a little. I should take a nap on the cane chair in the corner of the kitchen. I should tell Bahadur to wake me up when the old Mercedes Benz arrived.
Yes, the same car. Many decades ago, it was for the same car that I was waiting for when Master Veer’s grandfather was to arrive with his bride. Oh … I am young again, I have no pain in my body and eyes that can see for miles.
“Sheila Bai, Sheila Bai, wake up! Come quickly! The bride has arrived.” A breathless Bahadur was breathing down onto my face.
I pushed him away, gathered myself slowly, and followed the other staff out into the foyer. The darkness of this starless night had been stabbed by the glitter of the fairy lights trailing down the tall stone walls. Dhiraj, our head driver, was holding the car door open. Any moment now I would see her. My eyes were not as good as they were last year, but today I had rested them to be absolutely ready for this awaited moment.
Ahh haa… There she was. She had stepped out. From the balcony above I could only see her bent head. What a beautiful peacock-coloured gown! She looked so delicate, like a leaf on a branch.
And … oh no… what just happened? Did the poor girl trip over her wedding gown! Oh my God, she has fallen on the floor. Oh no!
“O Bahadur, Bahadur, run downstairs quickly with the chambermaid and help the bride. Go, will you! Don’t just stand there, you imbecile!”
Holding the hand railing, I slowly descended to the main hall. My knees ached, but nothing could stop me.
Madam Rani and her sisters had gathered centre stage to welcome the married couple. The noise had died down. There was a group moving towards the stage. Oh ho, look at Master Veer! How handsome he looks! Where was his bride?
Aha … there she was, trailing behind him.
I wished she would lift her head. I wanted to see her face.
Oh, I got lucky. Then, she lifted her face slowly.
Yes, I could finally see her.
What? Who is this?
I looked at the bride again.
I felt giddy.
This was impossible. Surely this was a trick.
This cannot be! No, no, no. There has been a mistake. Yes.… Wiping my glasses with the edge of my shawl has always helped. Sometimes the smudges play tricks with my vision. Let me take a better look. Oh no.
My bones started to stiffen, and my head felt hot.
That beautiful face. I had not forgotten it all these years. After roaming these corridors for years, she has walked back to us from the past.
God have mercy. What are you unfolding before my old eyes?
“Sheila! Sheila!” Someone called out to me. “Can you come here please?” I followed Rani Madam’s voice in a daze.
“Sheila, take the bride to get dressed for the wedding games.”
These were simple instructions. I had to focus. I closed my eyes to clear these evil thoughts. This was just a young girl born in Master Veer’s time. The resemblance was striking, but it was just a resemblance. There was no other explanation. I had to keep this to myself. After all, no one would believe me. There were no photographs of her to prove my word, and the last thing I wanted was to be called crazy.
I started out cautiously toward the corridor leading to Master Veer’s room. The Madam’s sisters were escorting the bride. I increased my pace to catch up. The bride had stopped walking and was propping herself on the pillar for support.
Why had she stopped? Was she okay? I gently slipped my hand under her elbow to support her. She turned. I looked straight into her doe eyes. The same eyes. She smiled. An enigmatic, familiar smile. All earlier reasoning left me in an instant. I was looking at her face again. My heart stopped. It started again in a moment, but it was missing a beat. How was this possible?
I caught my breath. While holding her cold elbow, I managed to lead the bride to Master Veer’s room. At least the gardener remembered to turn on the lights under the peepal tree to show off the lotus pond. I hadn’t looked into her eyes again. As long as I didn’t look at her, I was sane.
Kitty Madam had stopped whispering into Minnie’s ear.
“Maya sweetie, why don’t you sit on this ottoman. Sheila will take off your jewellery,” Kitty said. The bride obeyed.
One by one, I slid off the head gear, necklace, earrings, armlets, anklets. I placed everything inside the jewelled box and locked it in the dressing room wardrobe. “Maya Madam, why don’t you follow me. There is a changing room at the back,” I said, picking up the heavy crimson sari that I had to help her change into.
“Please don’t call me Madam. You can call me Maya.”
This was her first sentence to me. To my surprise, her voice was not like hers. It was soft and melodious.
“Oh no, no, I cannot.” How could I be free like this generation? I had to maintain some status and decorum.
“Okay then, please think of something that you can call me.” She looked at me with sparkling eyes.
The door of the changing room was swollen with old moisture and did not latch. The bride took the sari from my hand and went inside to change. I waited outside in case she needed help pleating it around her waist. Through the open door I heard Minnie and Kitty Madam talking.
“So, it has happened. They are finally married,” Minnie sighed loudly.
“Yes, they are.”
“When I saw her for the first time at the restaurant, oh my gosh, sister, I could have sworn that she had come back to haunt us. There is a remarkable resemblance.”
“Yes, there is! It was scary at first, and what a coincidence! Our poor sister and bother-in-law…”
“Why are you smiling?”, asked Minnie
“Well … it’s poetic justice…”
“What is?”
“I was just thinking about our Veer…”
“What about him?”
“You know the times when ‘his mood’ comes on.”
“Ya … ya….”
“I wonder if Maya knows…”
“She must know. They have known each other since high school, I have heard.”
“What are girls coming to these days? In my time we were not allowed to even talk to boys after seven o’ clock.”
“But we have to admit, she is a beauty … just like….”
“Oh stop it. You sound as if you are in love with her. What are looks? They will fade in a few years. What matters in the end is how connected her family is and how much money she brings in dowry. And in this case, my dear, I have doubts on both accounts. Besides, are you implying that our Veer had no other choice? Didn’t you know that Mr. Khanna had come with a proposal for his daughter Pinky just last week at their dinner?”
“Really!”
What were the Madams doing? I closed my ears and prayed that the new bride hadn’t heard from the open door. They did not know the damage they were causing.
What if … what if she had returned as Veer’s wife to take her revenge? It was a thought I could not take out of my head. And if so, I feared the Madams would go first.
What was that sound?
The bride had come out. My … my … the new bride in her sari looked like a Goddess. But her eyes were drenched in pain. The glow had dimmed, and she was trembling like a leaf.
I feared she had heard everything!
Instinctively I threw a shawl around her frail shoulders.
Now, I knew why God had extended my life. Because its purpose was not over yet. The purpose was to protect this girl. She had no idea what she was dealing with. And, somehow, I also knew that I was no
t the only one watching over her. She was here on every full moon night, when the skies were the darkest, so that the moon could shine uninterrupted. I heard her in the swiftness of the wind, in the crevasses of the roof beams.
I had no control over my tongue. It was distracting her, consoling the new bride. “Madam, I know what I will call you.”
She did not reply this time.
I continued, “I will call you ‘Beti.’”
Still there was no answer.
“You know why? Because you are the daughter of this family.”
I felt her little hand in mine, and, with that, I led her toward the waiting guests.
5. MAYA
THE NIGHT WAS MUCH COOLER as I walked back to the hall, now full of guests pumped up on snacks and drinks. I noticed cocktail glasses in their hands, martini, whiskey, and wine goblets.
The raw pain of Veer’s aunts’ conversation stung in my chest.
What was wrong with Veer? What did they mean by “his mood?” Who did I resemble? And why was that so frightening?
My heart pounded again. If only Ma were here, I would crawl onto her lap and wrap my arms around. I looked at Sheila, who was leading me back for an exhibition of myself. The calm of her face gave me some solace.
Veer was seated on a throne-like chair with red cushions and gold trims. He was still looking away. I took my designated place next to him. I could feel all eyes glued to me, to my every shudder, every blemish.
Veer’s mother cleared her throat and the entire hall fell silent. “Well, hello, hello. Welcome everyone. I am the lucky facilitator of the games for our dear son Veer and his bride, ceremonies that will signal their fate and future together.”
Deafening claps boomed within the walls.
Wait! What had she just said? What kind of games were these? Had our fate not already been decided by the wedding?
“Oh, lighten up, dear!” Kitty held up my chin with two fingers as if reading my thoughts. I looked away to hide a tear and felt Sheila’s oddly comforting presence somewhere near me.
Veer’s mother’s voice continued: “The first game is very simple. Veer has to find the first letter of his name, ‘V’ in his bride’s henna design.”
It bothered me that she had not referred to me by my name. All that seemed to matter to them was that I was his bride, his new possession.
My palms were lifted toward the zooming cameras. Images of intricate floral vines, criss-cross waves, paisleys, and mango leaves on my hennaed hands were projected on the large white screens in both corners of the hall. Veer came closer, tilted his head, and puffed several times. He was smiling, but he knew that he might lose. Veer does not like losing, not here, not in the soccer field, not ever. And I could not help him. The crowd let out a loud sound of dismay as he gave up. I had won by default.
Our next game was called “Fish the Ring.” An enormous oxidized silver bowl with carved handles was brought in and placed on the table before us.
This time it was Minnie’s turn to explain: “In this bowl of milk is hidden a small family heirloom, a ring. This ring chooses its owner, and it always tells the truth. The couple have to dip their hands in the opaque milk and find that ring. Do I have to tell you more? Whoever finds the ring is the winner, in the game, and in their life together. They will dominate their partner in making all the important decisions. Ha, ha…” Her laugh at the end of her explanation was almost a sneer.
I did not want to play. I would let Veer win, and then everyone would be happy. We dipped our hands up to our elbows in the deep bowl of cold, sticky milk. My plan was not to move my fingers to search for the ring. That way, Veer could find it before me.
But I felt something instantly under my palm as it touched the bottom of the bowl. The unmistakable shape of a cold curve, a thin metallic band. The ring!
I had found it, but no one could know. I moved it quickly toward Veer’s searching hand. Endless eyes were peering at our every move. I looked up to see Veer’s facial muscles relax and then tighten up again in a smile.
There was cheering, whistling, and clapping as Veer pulled his victorious hand out of the bowl, showing off the ring that he had slipped on his middle finger. This time, Veer was the hero.
Kitty screeched, “So it is a tie! And, dear friends, we all know what this means, eh?”
One of Veer’s cousins got up from the crowd and shouted, “Yes, this means that these two will be equally matched throughout life!” And with that the hall was drowned in applause once again.
6.
I WAS GLAD WHEN THE NIGHT drew to an end. Kitty’s farewell message instructed the guests to move to the porch to bid the newly-weds goodbye. We were to be driven, accompanied by Kitty and Minnie, to an unknown destination for our wedding night. I was ushered by the same set of girl cousins to a waiting limo, surprised when they too climbed into the car. As the car door closed, I realized that Veer was not with us. I told myself not to panic, though I watched for him anxiously.
A few minutes later, we were driving over the spaghetti junctions and new flyover passes. I saw migrant labourers sleeping under checked sheets on cold stone pavements. We passed shiny skyscrapers with lighted rooftops, and then wide expanses of yellow mustard fields dug up with bulldozers and dump trucks, waiting for more construction. After driving for a couple of hours, our limo started ascending a long driveway that led to a grand marble entrance. Two tired-looking doormen wearing bright red turbans and black suits stood in front of the doors.
“Here you go. We have reached the grandest heritage five-star hotel just recently converted from a Maharaja’s palace!” Minnie sounded like a tour guide. I could not help but wonder how perfect this would look to someone from the outside.
There was still no sign of Veer. I hesitated before stepping out of the car.
As if reading my mind again, Kitty taunted, “Looking for your prince, eh?” All the cousins sniggered. I was angry with myself for not being able to speak up and for not having control of my wedding night. I hadn’t planned or even known about any of this. I was ushered into the hotel and then up to a large room strewn with rose petals, which formed a trail to a four-poster bed adorned with golden organza drapes. On the bed sheets were more petals the colour of virgin blood.
They left me sitting awkwardly on the bed with some last taunting words: “Good luck! Sweet honey luck!”
After they left, the silence was welcome. My head gravitated to the lacy satin pillow. I closed my eyes, and I was back home playing hopscotch in the sweltering heat in our mango grove. My mother was calling me to come inside from the sun. Her calling grew louder and then turned into a caress.
“Maya … Maya.” I opened my eyes. I was looking straight into Veer’s smiling hazel eyes. His earlier strange and aloof demeanour had vanished. I wanted to ask him how he managed to lift the veil of doom that had enveloped him throughout the wedding. Instead I asked, “Where were you?”
Ignoring my question, he said, “Come!”
He took my hand and we stepped out onto the balcony. It was magical. We were overlooking a medieval palace courtyard with intricate stonework columns that had been erected with geometrical precision inside a Mughal garden. Even the gaudy red roses and clipped cypresses lining the walls were organized in straight lines within blossoming bougainvillea bushes and graceful grape vines. The garden was divided by a line of lighted musical fountains in the middle, and, in the glow of the tall boundary spotlights, a sea of turquoise shone. We were in a dream. All my doubts and anxieties seemed inconsequential and petty in front of this magnificence. And then, suddenly, as if riding on my wave of optimism, the darkness was broken by the first ray of pink from the East. We had made it to a new day together.
***
It was late afternoon when I woke up. Veer was sipping his coffee on the sun-kissed balcony. He extended his hand and then pulled me onto his lap. Running his fingers
through my hair, he said, “Maya, I have a great plan for the day.”
“What?”
“There is a grand beach a mile from the palace’s boundaries, and I have arranged for two motorbikes to explore the terrain.”
If there was a question in his statement, I gave him a hug as my answer. And if this was going to be the reward for a stressful wedding, I was willing to accept it. To leave such a place before exploring it would have been absolutely tragic.
Within an hour, we were riding side by side on an empty road. There were fishermen’s huts on the left side and roaring waves on the right.
“Wanna race?” Veer challenged.
Inhaling the toxic bike fumes pumped up my adrenaline. But as the smoke cleared, Veer was nowhere in sight. Where had he gone again?
The hot ruthlessness of the sun was mixed with the nauseating smell of raw fish. A glint of silver caught my eye. It was coming from behind the boulders, where the waves met the sand. My heartbeat picked up. First, I saw the handlebar, then the tires. It was Veer’s bike! What was he doing down there?
The palm-lined road was deserted. I crossed over the stone boundary onto the hot sand and walked towards the rocks. The granules pierced my soles. There was still no sign of Veer. I turned to leave.
“Hey!” His deep voice stopped me. It led me behind the hidden boulder. His face was flushed with the heat, but his eyes were smouldering with an intense emotion that I could not read just yet. He swayed towards me.
“Why did you leave me? I thought we were racing!” I lashed out.
He did not answer. He came closer and pulled me into his arms. The breeze had started blowing my hair in his face, and I could feel his breath on my cheek. He ran the tip of his finger down my back, and I reacted with goose bumps. His breath grew excited, quick, shallow. But anger surged inside me. “Why did you leave me?” I repeated like a child on the verge of a tantrum.
His fingers slid into my hair, steering it off my face, holding my gaze. My back sizzled against the hot rocks and I finally pushed him away. But I could not escape. He pulled me back swiftly and effortlessly. Leaning against my body, he gripped my waist and pressed himself down on me, lean and brawny.