by Rohan Dahiya
“Watch it,” Gayatri remarked.
“You know it’s true.”
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Ria is your mum okay with you going out in a strapless dress?” Gayatri bent low to check Surya’s pleats.
Dev peeked his head in and beamed.
“Is your mom okay with you going out looking like a slut, Gayatri?”
“What the fuck Ria?”
“I’ll come back later,” Dev remarked with the same smile.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant.”
“You meant my dead mother or Geetu-ma? Tell me. Since you’re such a grown up you should be able to tell the difference right away. What the hell did you mean by that you insolent bitch!”
Geetu burst through the door and grabbed Ria’s wrist. “Out. Come with me. NOW.”
The hairdresser handed a tissue to Gayatri who tipped her head back and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. Surya reached a hand out behind her and squeezed her palm when they met.
“I have a joint in my bag if you want, Lara’s getting more for later. I was supposed to have it as soon as I woke up but mumma didn’t give me a second to myself.”
Sunaina entered with a glass of whiskey disguised in cola and stopped short at the sight of the golden halo of pins – an idea she’d shared with her friends back when she’d been planning her own wedding. Catching her faltered smile, she decided that Surya must have found the same inspiration on Pinterest and it was all a coincidence.
“You guys I can’t believe it after today Surya’s officially going to be the bride, it’s like the end of an era.” She handed the drink over to adjust her dhoti pants.
“Just an hour to go,” Gayatri giggled.
“I swear these are giving me the worst wedgie. Gayatri, if you see the shalwar sticking to my butt stop me immediately.”
“Why the hell am I on wedgie patrol?” she grimaced.
“Because I love you.” She swirled her pleated kurta. “Also now I’m wondering if I look like a Gujju folk singer.”
“You look great,” Gayatri swallowed her laugh.
They stepped out for a cigarette at the exact time when the flower arrangements were being shifted onto the gently sloping garden; enormous marble vats were piled up to seven feet high with white bougainvillea and fairylight bushels. Sunaina balked at the resemblance to a haphazard sketch from her notebook. The golden sashes hanging down faux marble columns, the wreaths of grapes and crystal goblets perpendicularly placed on the tables, even the violently colorful centerpieces were directly lifted from her notebook, her Pinterest board. Surya was having the engagement party Sunaina had planned for herself. She poked her head out to ask for a quick drag.
“Oh listen Sunaina before I forget, I wanted to let you know that Lakshman is coming. After our last talk I know you told me it doesn’t matter and all and obvi Sohrab is there but I just wanted to give you a heads-up. We’re serving his wine today.”
“His wine? What do you mean?” Gayatri made no efforts to blow the smoke away from her.
“The wine from his vineyard. Were you guys not listening to my story at all? Yeah he owns and runs his own vineyard down in Nasik, when mumma found out she rang him up and arranged like a tasting and shit and before I knew it they’d ordered like a few hundred cases or something. Yeah he even got our wedding crest monogrammed on these little cards hanging around the bottle neck.”
Sunaina was still taking in the decor as guests started arriving. She turned around with a withering smile. “Did you steal all my ideas or is something your own too?”
She pushed her way out, deaf to the muttered disbelief Surya feigned at her retreating back. On the other side of the hall Kama locked the double doors softly and sat Ria down on the windowside loveseat.
Knowing fully well what was about to happen Ria felt the childish need to break into tears and hug her mother, because there was a time when that would’ve been enough to fix any mistake. But there were things that couldn’t be overlooked as easily and when Kama finally spoke there was not a tremble or pause in her speech.
“You know the reason why I told you about what had happened to me? It wasn’t because I saw that boy coming out of your room, or what ever happened with your grandfather. It was because I knew in my heart that it was the right time to tell you – that you were mature enough to understand it. To know what to do with it.”
“And I failed you.” She bit her lip so hard it bled.
“No, don’t take this as failing me, Ria. You only failed yourself. You say it day in and day out that you’re not a child anymore, that you’re a grown up. So I’m talking to you like a grown up because you’ve assured me of your ability to handle yourself. I just wish you’d trusted me enough to talk to me before doing anything like this.”
“It’s not about trust mumma,” she blubbered.
“Whatever it may be about then, I just think I could’ve been of some help when you went to the clinic.”
“I know you’re hurt but … I didn’t want to hurt you by seeing me in that state.”
“That sounds awfully selfish Ria. I know I raised you better than that,” she smiled sardonically from the butt of her cigarette.
There was nothing she could do but nod, head shamefully drooping. “So what now?”
“Well for starters you can forget about summer school in New York. The rest you figure out, you’re a smart girl.” Kama stood up and straightened her sari.
“Mumma that is so unfair! How dare you?” She ignored Ria’s impatient grunt.
“Oh and if that boy show’s up, tell him he won’t live to see the sunset.” She turned back, her voice lowered. “I won’t lose sleep over it, either. I’ll kill him.”
Sunaina was half-hiding – not too hard considering the guest list of five hundred – and somewhat considering the idea of tipping over the small cottage sized vat of flowers. She eyed the guests cooing at the borrowed aesthetics, right down to the individual mini-succulents placed at every table setting as party favours. The final distraction was Kabir’s grip on her right earpiece. He’d taken a day away from his design studio just for them but navigating traffic while screaming into his phone wasn’t as fun as he’d hoped to have. As he maneuvered the small lanes leading up to the venue Sunaina made her way to the elaborate table settings.
Another cursory glance confirmed that handmade artisanal chocolates had added a tasteful finishing touch and if her suspicions were correct they came from her secret chocolatier in Lower Parel. She considered the effort in crushing someone under the mammoth bougainvillea dome looming over her and it proved to be too much. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, invoking every zen spirit she could recall.
“Admiring the flowers eh, beta?” she jumped at the sound of his voice.
“Oh papa! I was just looking for you. Listen I … what?”
He pointed at the phone and she cancelled the call without another wasted second.
“Do you remember this fat notebook, the one bound in acid green satin. It had all those business cards, menus, and private landlines on it.”
He squinted over her shoulder trying to jog his memory. “Yeah? Oh yeah of course I do. Geetu and all were over for dinner a couple of months back and Surya had it in her hands when she came back from the loo.”
She felt a chill even as the sun climbed higher and sunglasses came on in a Mexican Wave.
“Is something wrong? She told me it was just for wedding research and all.”
“It’s nothing.” She pushed the sunglasses up her nose. “Do you think we’re a messed up family?”
“Well yeah but whose family isn’t bat shit crazy these days,” he turned to her, “right?”
She sighed. “I don’t know, I think we’re winning this round.”
Surya walked into view in her grey and gold ensemble as a collective sigh shivered through the party. “And what about you? How’re you holding up?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m indestruct
ible, don’t you know that?”
Hassan flashed a side-smile and put a reassuring arm around her.
“Yeah but you don’t have to be like the super-dad all the time you know.” She pulled him into a signature brief hug.
“I think I’ve been off duty long enough, so far it’s only made a mess of things.” He kissed the top of her head. “Someone should look after you too you know. You’re like your mum in so many ways – all the best ones. It’s both amazing and scary.
She was just as passionate and headstrong, walked into a room and had everyone’s attention without having to demand it.”
“I don’t command attention at all.” They followed the slow procession headed toward the marquee.
“You do, you do so without even trying my love. Never let go of that.”
She cast him a worried glance. “How do you want me to hold on to a habit I didn’t even know I had?”
He considered it for a moment. “Just do what you’re doing anyway, I know you know the difference between who’s right and who’s wrong.”
He picked up a chocolate from the table to their right and popped it into his mouth. She ignored his impressed hum – already aware of how delicious the treats were. “Wait you mean what’s right and wrong, right?”
He looked at her with deliberation in his eyes. “I think you know what I mean. Now go up there, the ring ceremony’s about to begin.”
She called Kabir on her way as chairs swiveled to face the glowing couple, the hum of chinwag died as a round of champagne flutes were served. She called him again while Vir helped her climb up. She rang him a third time while swatting at a deviant bee before she realized it was after the flowers behind her. She flicked it off expertly and bent lower to avoid being seen with her phone in hand. There was a brief well-meaning but funny speech that ended too soon, and even as Kabir raced through the lawns and past the guests the rings were exchanged and she let her phone drop next to Gayatri’s clutch.
She looked at her gaping neckline and nudged, Gayatri immediately twisted sideways to adjust the fabric of her jumpsuit. Surya Shroff and Dhiraj Sahdev flashed a dazzling smile to the congregation of friends and family as matching bands of platinum were slid into each other’s finger and the glasses rose in toast to the sound of cheers and camera phones. Sunaina saw Kabir manoeuvre his way to her side before Surya had time to notice his absence.
He leaned in to her ear. “Did I miss it?”
“Literally by half a minute.” She whispered back. “It was beautiful, you almost cried. We’re all very happy.”
“Good”, he huffed, “because I’d kill for a drink right now.”
She guided him to the bar by way of honey glazed prawns-on-a-stick laid out in a row over a napkin bed while Kabir ordered his large vodka-tonic.
“So what else did I miss?”
“Oh nothing major. There’s a chance my family’s insane and this might literally be the engagement party I was supposed to have with Daksh Dhiman.”
“Ooh la la. Cheers babe.” He gulped deeply. “So, who’s killed whom?”
She kept her focus on aligning the prawns just right. “My parents are getting divorced, it’s about to get super ugly like they’re going into litigation or whatev.”
“What else?”
“About a thousand other things.”
“Are you even going to eat all of those?”
She popped a whole giant prawn in her mouth and then struggled to chow it down.
“No it’s to keep you from getting sloppy drunk.”
“I’ve never been sloppy in the drinking history of the universe.”
As a group hovered over to them she changed the subject. “So, when are you showing up for dance practice? We’re still at an odd number.”
“Omg Kabir you should totes come ya it’s so fun.”
“Ya bro,” Adarsh clapped his back oblivious to the sour vibes. “If not for the dance, come for the drinks.”
Lara smiled widely behind her bee-glasses. “I hope you’re doing better now, Baruacha. So sorry to hear about aunty ya.”
A quick sympathetic nod ensued from all present.
“Thank you. But well cancer is cancer, can’t do anything about it. We’ve been considering how to move on from it because it’s just a lot to deal with sometimes you know?”
Samaira squeezed his arm solemnly. “You should allow yourself to begin the healing process. I say go on a sabbatical, like a spa-cation. Just disengage for some time ya.”
“We’re actually considering that. But anyway with the money that came in afterward I’ve just been thinking of what to do with it and we’re getting a yacht –friend of the family runs a dealership and all so yeah I think it’ll be great for all of us. And it’s the perfect way to honour her memory you know, it’ll be like having her there with us. We’re obviously naming it after her.”
“That’s beautiful,” Lara sniffed. “Oh on that note, guess who broke her engagement! You didn’t hear this from me but last night we were at a Diwali party and we took a break from cards for literally like half a sec and someone said oh let’s do Never Have I Ever because why the fuck not. Anyway Varsha Kalra and fiancé got into this whole totally embarrassing fight because he had done one of those amateur DSLR photo shoots at HKV gardens I mean can you even imagine!”
“Wait so that’s reason enough to call off her wedding?”
“Well apparently some of it, was like erotic and shit …” Lara looked back with an ostensibly souring look. “And seriously, you were so much more fun when you were a bitch.”
Sunaina looked over her shoulder and excused herself. Lakshman looked different in a way that had nothing to do with the clarity of daylight. His hair was much shorter, slicked back to red carpet perfection.
“Hi,” he gave her a surprised grin.
“You’re not you and I’m not me, and nothing’s what it seems to be
So tonight put the lights out, sing me to the moon
It may not be there tomorrow, so where’d we be, so where’d we go.”
She had wanted her words to be soft but they’d soured on the way out. Like a raindrop falling on cotton candy the moment wilted away and Lakshman shifted weight awkwardly.
“See I told you it was a stupid poem.”
He chuckled. “It’s hardly stupid, Sunaina!”
“Whatever.” She tried not to blush.
“So where’s your friend today? The guy with the tattoos.” His voice had a clear edge to it.
“Oh Sohrab! He couldn’t make it, Sunita aunty’s very sick she has some stomach bug and she’s got a raging fever. So he’s just taking care of her but he said he’d try and make it here by lunch time.” She looked down at her phone glumly, “I haven’t heard from him yet.”
Lakshman didn’t wish aloud that he never showed up.
“Yeah why’s the cell reception always so bad at these places?”
“Maybe that way people might actually talk to each other,” he wiggled his brows.
She rolled her eyes. A server drifted their way with wine and she’d almost refused before catching herself. She took a goblet of the red and turned to Laksh with narrowed eyes, “So when do I get to hear about how you ended up a winemaker out of everything?”
He flashed her a proud smile. “Well first you have to tell me, do you like it?”
She nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Well basically things weren’t working out here for a long time. In the end it was just me and dad living at our place and after a while he too sort of just packed his bags and left. It didn’t take the cops too long to seize the house but I was gone too by then.”
“Where’d you go? And when did this happen?”
“Some time after Diwali last year. I went to this yoga ashram Samaira had told me about and I worked there for a bit.”
Of all the things she’d imagined, Laksh working at an ashram was the most improbable.
Satisfied with the reaction, he
continued. “I took the bus from Rishikesh with some friends I made to this NGO in Leh and we stayed for a few months, you wouldn’t believe how cold it gets there. But oh man I was so happy!” he smiled from ear to ear. “And then some shit happened so I caught a flight back here and then to Bombay from where I made my way to Nasik – I was mostly at the end of my money by then. When I got there I went to meet the lawyer who’d called me because my chachu had passed away.”
“Who? Sachin uncle?”
“Yeah, I can’t believe you remember him. Anyway he owned a vineyard there and it wasn’t in good shape but he’d left it to me and I- I mean I obviously couldn’t just let it rot it’s ten bloody acres of prime untapped land at this point.”
“What did you do then?”
“I wrote to a whole bunch of vineyards in Europe through this website for volunteering on organic farms. I called up dad’s lawyers and had some money transferred to my account and by then I’d heard back from this establishment in Burgundy. I stayed on the farm and studied how to make wine and stuff.”
“Does this story get any crazier or can I start believing it?”
He let out a booming laugh. “You’re not the first person to tell me it sounds like a load of shit but yeah that’s how it happened.”
“And now you make wine at your Nasik vineyard.”
He nodded. “And you, what ever happened to baby Kochhar?”
She smiled indulgently. “Nothing as adventurous as that I can assure you, but I do know how cold Leh gets. I did the trek over Chadar Lake last year.”
They fell into an uncomfortable silence at the prospect of having been in the same town at the same time and two hearts broke a little more as the music swelled and the cocktails stiffened.
Chapter TWENTY
I WON’T LISTEN TO
YOUR DOGMA
Geetu zipped her way through the tipsy throng, giggling over their gimlets and beers cursing her daughter inwardly for demanding the largest group of dancers at a sangeet performance – worsened by having already tipped off Buzzfeed and the likes for a feature. Twenty seven reasonably attractive couples coordinated to perfection on a single stage meant a lot of tension, rivalry, and downright chaos. With each passing dance practice the attendees had multiplied till the upper basement looked more like a social event than rehearsal while the choreographer and a strongarmed minion of Surya’s clapped and screamed the dancers into form. She walked past the vegan homemade paté and cracker platter and swooped out of the way of a one armed hug to grab the choreographer’s elbow and jerk him out of earshot.