“Namaste kaka, kaise hain aap?”

(Namaste uncle, how are you?)

They had headed to their go-to ice cream stand a few roads away. “Main theek hoon beta, yeh lijiye aapka rocky road, aur aapka mango ice cream.”

(I’m fine, beta. Here is your rocky road, and your mango ice cream.)

The ice cream vendor knew them for years, so he handed Ashwin his all-time favorite rocky road, and Aanandita her seasonal favorite mango. They took a seat on a bench nearby and savoured their ice cream in silence.

“Oy, zyaada zor mat lagao apni dhimaak par,” Ashwan scolded, poking a finger at her head. “Joh hona hain, woh ho jayega.”

(Hey, don’t stress your brain too much. What will happen will happen.)

Aanandita glared at him for poking her, then laughed. “Aaj kal kaise baatein kar rahe hain aap? Pehle toh mere confidence bada rahe the, aur ab kismat ki baatein kar rahe hain. Kya aapke kismat mein joh hain, uski intezaar hain?” she asked teasingly.

(What are you talking about nowadays? First, you boost my confidence, and now you’re talking about destiny. Are you waiting for the person who’s written in your destiny?)

“Yaar, sach boloon toh, intezaar hain. Jabse Mumma ne shaadi ki baat uthayi, tabse dheere dheere, mujhe shaadi acchi lagne lagi. I began noticing these small things between married couples, between our parents. I started wanting that sort of connection with someone. Bas, yeh nahi jaanta ki kya main ek accha pati ban paunga. Kya main taiyyar hoon?”

(Yaar, if I’m being real, then yeah. Since Mumma mentioned marriage, it slowly started growing on me. I began noticing these small things between married couples, between our parents. I started wanting that sort of connection with someone. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to be a good husband. Am I ready?)

She patted him on the shoulder, thinking that whoever her bhai would marry would be a lucky girl. “Chinta mat kijiye, bas bharosa aur sabr rakhiye. Agar aap abhi itna soch rahe hain, toh aap zaroor accha pati banenge. Jisko bhi aap mile, bohot naseeb wali hogi. Jaisa aapne mujhse kaha, joh hona hain, woh ho jayega.”

(Don’t worry, just trust and be patient. If you’re thinking so much about it now, then I’m sure you’ll be a good husband. Whoever you marry, will be very lucky. Like you told me, what will happen will happen.)

“Waise, Nandu? Maine pehle bola nahi, lekin I’m really proud of you, yaar. Itni kam umar mein kitna kuch kiya tumne. Aur kitna karna chahthi ho. Kitne artisans ko support karthi ho, aur un saari ladkiyon ko padhathi ho. Ab Tanisha ko mauka de rahi ho. Nandu Sr. toh ab hain nahi humare saath, lekin mujhe pata hain, bohot garv mehsoos kar rahi hogi tum par.”

(You know, Nandu? I’ve never said it before, but I’m really proud of you. At such a young age, you’ve done so much. And you want to do so much more. You support so many artisans, and you fund so many girls’ education. You’re giving Tanisha a chance now, too. Nandu Sr. isn’t here with us now, but I know, she’d be really proud of you.)

“Mera kuch nahi hain. Sab Nandu se hi seekha. And Tanisha earned everything in her life, working so hard to leave the orphanage, follow her dreams, and now establish a successful career.”  She sighed wistfully. “I miss Nandu.”

(I didn’t do anything, I learnt everything from Nandu. And Tanisha earned everything in her life, working so hard to leave the orphanage, follow her dreams, and now establish a successful career. I miss Nandu)

Aanandita laid her head on his shoulder, and Ashwin rested his head on hers, loosing themselves in their memories of Nandu Sr. Nandini, or Nandu as they called her, was their paternal grandmother, and both Aanandita and Ashwin’s most favorite person in the world. Ashwin was the most excited when Aanandita was born, because at four years old, he finally had the perfect gudiya (doll) to play with.

But as Aanandita grew into a spritely toddler, so did her and Ashwin’s childish rivalry. One of their favorite topics to argue about was who was their grandmother’s favorite. Or, which of the two loved their grandmother more. But, when Nandini pointed out to Ashwin that Aanandita was also another Nandu, just like her, all their rivalry (ok, maybe not all but most of it) melted away and the two became partners-in-crime.

However, Nandini passed away when the two were still young, shortly after Harshita and Pranali were born, and Ashwin and Aanandita’s bond grew stronger over their shared loss. Nandini had two properties that were solely in her name, not shared with her husband and children, and she had left one property each to Ashwin and Aanandita.

Although it was clear that Aanandita was naturally a financial genius, arguably more talented than anyone else in her family, she had no interest in it. Her heart lay in designing, so she did her bachelor’s in fashion design, from the reputed NIFT, and even bagged a prestigious internship in her final year of college which allowed her to make several important connections. As soon as she graduated, she began establishing her own designer brand and boutique.

The property that was left to her by Nandini was in a prime locality, so she turned the first floor into a showroom, along with a few offices, and kept the upper floor for storage. Aanandita’s brand was named Athidhi. It was both a mix of syllables from her own name as well as an honor to her grandmother, as Nandini’s favorite motto was ‘athidhi devo bhava’. Since the brand had been established nearly two years ago, it had become well known and frequented by many prominent figures in society, including people who moved in Vikram’s social circles.

Aanandita loved having her own brand because she had complete control over it. She sourced all of her materials and much of the karigari (handwork) on her designs from the artisans themselves, paying them a rate far more suitable to their talents. From the profits of the boutique, she made an emergency fund for all the people that the boutique employed, and also supported the education of all the girls in a local orphanage. It was something that she and Nandini had started together, and she wanted to continue it.

However, throughout all this success, she had managed to keep her name and herself from the public eye. While all the customers knew that she was the head designer at Athidhi, very few knew that she was the owner, and even fewer knew that the owner’s name was Aanandita Chauhan.

“Nandu would’ve been so proud of you too bhai, proving yourself to be capable of leading the firm despite being the son of the boss. You know what, mujhe pakka yakeen hain ki Nandu ne upar se hi pura investigation karke decide kiya ki hum kisse shaadi karenge. Aur jaake Bhagwan ji ko hi order diya hoga ki mera pota poti ko inhi logon se shaadi karwao. Toh hume koi tension lena nahi, kyunki agar thaan liya ki aisa hoga, toh aisa hi hokar rahega. Jisko Nandu ne chuna, woh toh ayenge humare zindagi mein, aur humesha ke liye rahenge.”

(Nandu would have been so proud of you bhai, proving yourself to be capable of leading the firm despite being the son of the boss. You know what, I’m completely sure that Nandu did a complete investigation and decided from above who we’re going to marry. And she probably went to God himself and ordered him to make sure we married the people she chose. So, we don’t need to stress, because if she decided that’s what’s going to happen, then that’s what’s going to happen. Whoever Nandu chose, they’ll come into our life, and they’ll stay forever.)

Ashwin couldn’t control his laughter at that. “Just image ordering God what to do. But she just couldn’t stop interfering, could she?” Suddenly, he lifted his head and frowned down at her, a protective look in his eyes. “But hey, you don’t have to agree to marry the first person who comes along because you think it’s a sign from Nandu or it will make our family happy. I meant what I said before, your happiness and your decision trumps everything.”

Ashwin’s emotional words, few as they were, always touched her heart, but also threw her off balance. “I can’t believe you’re the seven-year-old that used to argue with me every five seconds.” “But I am the four-year-old that declared the day you came into this world that you were my sister, before anything else.”

Aanandita let out a deep sigh, her shoulders slumping as her inner doubt made its way onto her face. “You know, I agreed to get married for the same reason you’re considering it now. I wanted that special connection with someone who chose to commit to me and who I chose in return. Mumma and Papa argue, and even hurt each other sometimes, but they’re always comfortable with each other. Even if Pranali and I, tayi-ji and tau-ji, are not there, they are happy with each other. I wanted…no, I want and crave that companionship.”

Aanandita gave a mocking laugh. “I suppose I’ve always been hyperaware of my flaws, or strengths depending on how you look at it. I’ve always known I would need someone to support me, but also challenge me. As adorable as they are, a sweet yet spinless man would never do. I would run roughshod over him in days and bore myself doing it. I need someone who will stand toe-to-toe against me, but also shoulder-to-shoulder with me. On paper, Vikram was perfect. In person, he was not, but perhaps all the more attractive because of it. As much as seemed to demean me in the conversation, it also felt as if he was trying to prod some hidden part of me. Testing me as I was testing him.”

She turned to Ashwin with wide, earnest eyes. “I swear, bhai, there was a hint of warmth in his eyes, the barest curve to his lips.” Aanandita groaned, dropping her face into her palms. “But this time, I’m just not sure. My whole life, I’ve taught myself to trust myself, knowing that any consequences would entirely be my responsibility. But…if I fail this time, I just don’t know if I could bear it.”

Ashwin understood entirely; it was a dilemma he faced himself every day. “Shayad tumhe yeh pata nahi hain, lekin ek baar, Nandu Sr. ne mujhse ek baat kahi thi jab main tum par naraaz tha. I think it was the neighborhood cricket game. Tum chahthi thi ki main wicket keeper banoon, zidd pakad kar baithi thi ki warna tum nahi khelogi. Maine toh panga liya tha mohalle ke ladke se, ki tum ladki aur chhoti bacchi ho kar bhi sabse acche khelogi, aur hum jeetenge. Lekin main wicket keeper nahi banna chatha tha, sabse important role lagta tha mujhe, aur khud par confidence nahi tha.

(Maybe you don’t know this, but one time, Nandu Sr. gave me advice when I was mad at you. I think it was the neighborhood cricket game. You were so stubborn; you wanted me to be the wicket keeper, refusing to play if I wasn’t. I’d challenged the boys in the neighborhood that even though you’re younger and a girl, you could play better than anyone else. And we would win. But I didn’t want to be the wicket keeper. It seemed like the most important job to me, and I wasn’t confident in my abilities.)

Phir Nandu ne kuch aise kahi thi ki ‘tumhe khud par bharosa nahi hain, lekin teri apnon ko hain. Woh bina soche samjhe, tumhe bina jaane toh nahi karenga na bharosa. Tumhe unke bharose par yakeen karna chahiye, aur uss yakeen se jeena hain.’ Bade hokar mujhe dheere dheere samajh mein aarahe hain yeh baatein. Hum humesha kehthe hain ki ‘hum hain tumhare saath, hum hain tumhara sahaara,’ par iska matlab yeh bhi hain ki humara bharosa bhi hain tumhare saath.”

(And then Nandu said something along the lines of ‘you don’t have faith in yourself, but your loved ones do. They won’t trust you without thinking, without knowing who you are. You must believe in their trust, go forward and win.’ As I get older, I’m slowly starting to understand her myriad advice. We always say that ‘we’re with you, we’re your support’, but that also means that our trust is with you, too.)

“Chhote chhote situations mein, kaise bade bade baate karti thi na Nandu.”

(Oh, how Nandu used to say such philosophical things in small moments.) **spin on a Bollywood dialogue

“Kya yaar, philosophical moments ke beech filmy dialogues kehne lag jaati ho.” Ashwin huffed in mock annoyance.

(Seriously? You always bring filmy dialogues in between philosophical moments.)

Aanandita rested her elbow on his shoulder, “Agar nahi kehti, toh aap apne duniya mein khoye rehte the.” They had a little football match, kicking around a pebble, as they walked back home in comfortable silence.

(If I didn’t, you would still be lost in your own world.)