Having gotten a weight off her chest, Vaidehi wilted where she was standing, and it seemed as if she was slowly registering everything she had said in her outburst. “Mera sar dukh raha hain, main zara chai banake laati hoon.”

(My head is aching, I’ll go make some chai.)

She tried to escape, but Veer blocked her, gently holding her wrist. “Do you feel ten pounds lighter having gotten that off chest? Ab main baat karoon?”

(…Now may I speak?)

His amused tone immediately had her stiffening, and she tensed, ready to leave. Pausing, she gave him a look, as if he was an irritating piece of gum stuck on her shoe. “That’s the absolute worst thing you could have said right now. So horrible, that it doesn’t even dignify a response.”

He slid a hand past her other wrist, clasping her fingers in his. “You’re right, I’m sorry…Vaidu, I said all of that when I didn’t know you. When I didn’t want to know you. When I was afraid to accept that you were my own.” Her brow furrowed, but she remained silent. Letting go of her hands, Raghuveer raked a hand through his hair. He’d never really done this before, explaining his feelings to someone, and never in such an important situation. Turning, he began to pace about the room.

“Abhi was being an idiot, asking me pointed questions about you. I hated that he thought you were perfect, but I couldn’t say the words myself. I don’t give a damn if you have ambitions or even what your ambitions are unless there’s something I can do to help you achieve your dreams. That was a bloody rubbish excuse I gave him to shut him up and move on. And whatever we were talking about after was his idea of distracting me. I swear, I never read your profile, and until now, I didn’t know what your work was.”

“You…never saw my profile…” Sheepishly, he replied, “No.” She barked out a laugh and shook her head. “Excuse me, I need a few minutes.” She stepped into the bathroom, turning on the tap. Vaidehi’s laughter grew from uncontrollable giggles to clutching-her-stomach-and-crying laughter. Vaidehi Srivastav, the girl who was so one-sided that nobody’s feelings could hurt, didn’t realize just how much her husband’s words had stuck in her mind.

The cynic in her wanted to mock her, ask ‘how could he know who you really were when a day doesn’t go by that you don’t question who you are’? Everything was fine and under control until Mr. Raghuveer Malhotra decided to change his mind and switch personalities. She felt like a tightrope walker teetering on the brink of the rope. If she lost her equilibrium, this time, there wouldn’t be a safety net. Or would there?

The cynic in her wanted to mock her, ask ‘how could he know who you really were when a day doesn’t go by that you don’t question who you are’? Everything was fine and under control until Mr. Raghuveer Malhotra decided to change his mind and switch personalities. She felt like a tightrope walker teetering on the brink of the rope. If she lost her equilibrium, this time, there wouldn’t be a safety net. Or would there?

“Vaidehi, mujhse tumse ek baat karni hain, beta.”

(Vaidehi, I need to speak to you, beta.)

Her mother wanted to talk to her first thing in the morning? Which side did the sun rise today? “Ji, Maa. Bataiye.”

(Yes, Maa. What is it?)

Her mother nodded towards the couch, carrying the cup of chai Vaidehi handed to her over to her husband. Vaidehi’s father was present, but as usual, his spectacle-tipped nose was stuck in a newspaper. Vaidehi could understand- his presence meant that this conversation was on behalf of both her parents. But, no doubt, her father wouldn’t be paying an iota of attention. Taking her own cup of chai from Vaidehi’s hands, her mother took her customary seat next to her father. She gestured with a nod for Vaidehi to take a seat. Taking a fortifying sip of chai, she sat across from her parents. “Tumhe Rupali aunty yaad hain? Kal mangni mein bohot dinon baad humari bata hui.”

(Do you remember Rupali aunty? We spoke after many days yesterday at the engagement.)

“Accha?”

(Really?)

“Tumhe dekh kar surprise hui thi, unhe pata nahi tha tum wapas aayi ho.”

(She was surprised seeing you; she didn’t know that you had come back.)

‘Jab main kisi se milti nahi hoon, aur aap kisiko batate nahi, toh kahan se pata chalega?’

(When I don’t meet anyone, and you don’t tell anyone, how would they know?)

“Baat yeh hain ki woh tumhare liye ek rishta layi hain. Humne zyaada socha nahi hain iss baare mein, lekin ab lag raha hain sahi waqt hain.”

(The thing is that she brought a match for you. We haven’t thought much about this, but we’re thinking this might be the right time for you.)

She set the cup aside and nonchalantly linked her hands. “Tumhare Dadu Dadi Bhagwan ke paas gaye ek saal hua hain, kehte hain aise waqt mein shubhkarya hona chahiye. Tumhari padhai ho gayi hain, ab kaam bhi karne lagi ho. Ab jeevansathi mile, isse aur kya chahiye?”

(It’s been a year since your grandparents passed away. They say that during this time, there should be a good occasion. Your education is done, and now you’re working, too. Now if you find your life partner, what more could you want?)

She threw her husband a fond look, which surprisingly, he returned. “Subhe hi aunty ne message kiya ki ladke wale ko tum pasand aa gayi. Woh tumhe milne aana chahthe hain. Milo unse, baat karo. Woh acche log hain, agar yeh rishta pakka hua, toh hum bohot khush honge.”

(Aunty sent a message this morning that the boy’s family liked you. They want to come meet you. You should meet them, talk to them. They’re good people, and if this match works out, then we’ll be very happy.)

Vaidehi mentally scoffed at the way fate was playing with her. Yash bhai was supposed to accompany their parents to a relative’s engagement yesterday. He was stuck at work, and Vaidehi was coerced into going. Because if someone didn’t drag their parents to these events, they would perpetually be stuck in their scholarly world. In fact, it was a bit of a surprise to hear her mom talking about her marriage. “Woh log kal mangni mein aaye the?”

(Were they at the engagement yesterday?)

“Nahi nahi. Rupali ne mujhse aakar bataya ki unke dost ka beta hain, aur usse laga tum donon ki jodi jachega. Maine bataya hum tumhare liye dhundna shuru nahi kiya. Par tumhari kuch photos the mere paas, toh tumhari details likh kar ek photo bhej diya. Lagte hain bohot bade log hain.”

(No no. Rupali told me about her friend’s son, and she thought that your pair would go well together. I told her that we didn’t start looking for you. But I had some of your photos with me, so I just added your details and sent it. Seems like they’re very important people.)

There was really nothing she could do until she met them. Vaidehi wasn’t averse to marriage. In fact, she had once viewed it as an idealistic escape. But, it would mean a lot of change in a life that she’d carefully set to order. “Theek hain. Milungi.”

(Fine. I’ll meet them.)

Her mom smiled approvingly. “Unse baat karke bataungi kab aa rahe hain.”

(I’ll speak with them and let you know when they’ll come.)

Vaidehi took that as her cue to leave. Picking up the empty cups and saucers, she left. She didn’t know whether to feel happy that her parents recognized her existence, and the fact that she might want to get married. Or feel disappointed that her opinion seemed irrelevant.

Three days later, her prospective in-laws, the Malhotras, arrived. That was all she knew about them - that they were the Malhotra family. Rupali aunty had sent their son’s details to her mom, but her mother didn’t bother checking. Vaidehi could’ve easily checked herself, but something held her back. A sense of unease. At least for the next three days, she didn’t want to think about Mr. Malhotra, or his rishta, or anything expect her daily routine. As she dressed this morning in a saree, she wished her younger siblings were here. The twins and their chaotic energy would make the uljhan (twistedness) inside seem miniscule by comparison. “I’m not surprised you agreed to meet them.” Yash stood in her doorway, hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his feet. “Kyun?” (Why?)

She put on the jewelry set, a good quality fake, gifted to her by her best friends last year for her birthday. The saree she was wearing was gifted by her brother. “You were always the agreeable type, nothing concerns you.” “You wouldn’t say that if you could hear my pulse right now.” He took her by the shoulders and made her sit on her bed. Crouching in front of her, he held her hands. “You’re not just my younger sister, you’re the most important person in my world. My partner in crime. Not to mention you’ve been mothering me since the day you were born.” That made Vaidehi roll her eyes. “Joh bhi ho, yeh bhai tumhare saath hain.”

(Whatever happens, this brother is with you.)

“Filmy dialogues kyun maar rahe hain aap? But dialogues aside, I know.”

(Why are you quoting filmy dialogues? But dialogues aside, I know.)

He stood, smiling a boyish smile. “My little sister looks adorable in that saree. If you ask me, nobody deserves you.” “Ok, Mr. Hype Man, let’s go. They should be arriving soon.” Laughing, they left the room.

The minute the large group trooped in, Vaidehi knew. Mr. and Mrs. Malhotra had open, friendly smiles as they said their namastes, and the cute interaction as Mrs. Malhotra elbowed her husband, whispering a warning in his ear, made her smile. Mrs. Malhotra and her sister-in-law seemed very close, speaking a silent language communicated through their eyes. The twins had her missing her own siblings, away on a college trip, and she swallowed hard against the strange feeling behind her eyes. The youngest cousin was the silent observer, but something told Vaidehi that she got into her fair share of mischief as well. The older two, Mr. Malhotra’s siblings, were torn between ordering around their younger cousins, and arguing amongst themselves.

“Bhabhi, do you know, we’re so excited for Bhai to get married!” Akanksha elbowed her younger cousin in the ribs. “Not just Bhai, we’re excited for you too, Bhabhi!” Priya interjected, “We can call you Bhabhi, right?” “Of course we can call her Bhabhi, she’s the only girl Bhai said yes to.” Yagnik periodically smirked, typing furiously on his phone. After a few minutes, it became evident that the prospective groom wasn’t going to make an entrance. Thirty minutes into the visit, they hadn’t spoken about anything important. But Vaidehi had learnt all she needed to. This family had given her more importance, had listened to her more than her parents had her whole life. And none of it was planned. It was raw, spontaneous, genuine, and chaotic. Just like their family. A family that would welcome as if wrapping her up in a warm hug. Mr. Malhotra could be a martian for all she cared, her answer was yes.

The irony of this whole thing was that Vaidehi had planned her engagement, and would probably plan her own wedding as well. They didn’t exactly have the funds to hire an event planner. The Malhotras had pushed to help, but her parents unequivocally denied them. Her parents would, as usual, forget, which meant everything was in Vaidehi and Yash’s hands. To be fair, Vaidehi enjoyed the work. She was occupied by details and delegation, which meant her mind didn’t have time to run conspiracies. To everyone on the outside, she was the conscientious daughter who showed just the right amount of enthusiasm and daughterly concern in helping her parents. Some people might consider her situation to be ideal, because who wouldn’t want complete freedom to plan their engagement and wedding? But Vaidehi didn’t have a physical or mental folder of inspiration that she’d saved since her childhood. No, she was doing everything from scratch.

It had been decided that the engagement would be a small event, at her home, while the wedding would be a grand affair to accommodate all the Malhotras’ guests. Vaidehi carefully took out her Nani’s saree from her cupboard. It was decades old, and the only memory she had of her Nani. The only person who’d cared about her, before she passed away. Vaidehi balanced the vintage saree and gajra (flowers) with simple, modern jewelry. She did whatever makeup she knew how to do, which wasn’t much. No makeup artists or hair stylists for her. It was an unnecessary expense.

The actual ceremony would be held in the backyard. They had a patio that extended for most of the area, surrounded by plants in the remaining open earth. The rest of the house had been cleared of bulky furniture, replaced with seating for guests and space for everyone to walk between the patio, living, and dining rooms. Vaidehi’s mother had told her to come downstairs only when called. It seemed pointless, that she planned everything then had to sit silently away until called. “Didi, hum sab aapke saath yahan baithenge.”

(Didi, we’ll all sit here with you.)

Her siblings filed into her room, Nitesh plopping down on her bed. “Bhai, aap toh neeche jaiye. Maa aur Papa sab akele nahi handle kar sakte.”

(Bhai, at least you should go downstairs. Maa and Papa can’t handle everything themselves.)

Sighing, Yash walked out, and Nitesh took his chance to complain. “Didi, kya yaar? Hum yahan the hi nahi aur aapne rishta ke liye haan kaha? Hum bas aise wapas aaye school se aur aap mangni kar rahe hain?”

(Didi, what is this yaar? We weren’t even here and you said ‘yes’ to the rishta? We’ve just returned from school and here you’re getting engaged?)

His twin chimed in. “Haan, didi. Absolutely not fair! Aaj kal bas aise hi ‘haan’ kaun kehte hain? Aapko pata bhi hain jiju kaise dikhte hain?”

(Yeah, didi. Absolutely not fair! Who says ‘yes’ just like that these days? Do you even know how jiju looks?)

“Theek thaak.” ‘I think…’

(He looks just fine.)

Vaidehi was slightly embarrassed to admit to her younger siblings that she hadn’t even seen her to-be fiancé’s face. It hadn’t mattered to her before, but she suddenly didn’t want the twins to judge her.

Vaidehi carefully headed down the stairs, Nitesh and Maitreyi leading her. She didn’t have a chance to look around before she was bombarded by hugs. First, her soon to be mother-in-law, then Chachi. Then, chattering in a cacophony where she couldn’t understand what anyone was saying, Raghuveer Malhotra’s siblings and cousins. Vaidehi felt as if she had stepped into a whirlwind. Her gaze met her brother’s, and he tensed, ready to sweep her away at her one signal. She smiled instead and relaxed, accepting the hugs and wishes. As they guided her to her place and began the rituals, she finally looked at the man now standing in front of her. Taller than she expected. He looked well groomed, and neatly dressed in his sherwani. ‘Of course anyone would look well groomed on the day of their engagement, Vaidehi. What a stupid thing to notice!’

She glanced slowly at his face. He was…handsome. Surprisingly so. She should have suspected it – his entire family was good looking. Mr. Raghuveer Malhotra was stoic, the entire time. Not a twitch of his jaw or a curve of his lips. Even his eyes were blank. Vaidehi was held suspended in time as she met his eyes, not knowing what she was searching for. Slowly, she realized, his eyes weren’t blank. They were shut off.

They reminded her of a Greek painting she had once seen, with an agonized soldier banging against the vase he was trapped in. No, this wasn’t a lack of emotion. But like the soldier had been trapped away, Raghuveer Malhotra kept himself trapped away. The shutters on his face were because of his utter discipline on himself, and his iron will. As she slipped the ring onto his finger, she thought she saw a crack in the shutters. Or perhaps she was fooling herself, and it was just a trick of the light. Vaidehi felt as if she was looking into a mirror. In some strange way, that thought comforted her.

Thankfully, the Malhotras soon realized that the whole event was Vaidehi and Yash’s work. This time, they were persistent until they found success. Vaidehi’s parents were pestered with phone calls and gentle manipulation until a wedding planner was arranged and they agreed to let the Malhotras share the wedding costs. It was a fortunate ending, because within two weeks of planning, Vaidehi was starting to look like a zombie. Despite hiring a wedding planner, there were still a thousand tasks for Vaidehi to do. But at least she looked like a very tired, but alive, human instead of someone risen from the undead. During the vidaai, Vaidehi’s mother-in-law grasped her hands comfortingly. In the moment, the sorrow of leaving her siblings was overshadowed by the relief of finding true parents who cared for her.