Maybe it was my imagination but, for a moment, I felt
the same connection to her as I had in the past.
‘I don’t think you want to know.’
‘I do,’ I said. ‘Of course I do.’
‘You will judge me.’
‘Have I ever?’
She kept quiet.
‘Riya, have I ever judged you? You judged me and threw me out of
your life.’
‘Madhav, please.’
‘Let’s not go there. Yeah, fine. Anyway, are you still thinking about
quitting or is it final?’
‘Pretty final.’
‘Why?’
She took a deep breath.
‘Open the glove box.’
‘What?’
She pointed to the storage box below the dashboard. Puzzled, I
reached over and opened it. It had three red cardboard boxes inside.
‘Take one,' she said.
I picked up a box and sat back on my seat. The velvet-lined red
box had golden leaves embossed on it.
‘Open it.’
I switched on the reading light on my side of the car. I lifted the
red-gold lid of the box.
Inside, I found a red envelope on top of a silk pouch.The card and
the pouch had ‘R and R’ on it.
‘What?’ I said.
She gestured with her eyes that I look further.
I held the envelope in one hand and the pouch in the other. The
pouch contained pieces of chocolate wrapped in silver paper. I put the
pouch aside and opened the card.
I read a couple of lines. My head swam.
‘What?’ I turned to Riya.
‘I told you, you don’t want to know.’
I composed myself and summoned the resolve to read the full
card. It went like this: Shri Vishnu Somani and Shrimati Kala Devi
Somani humbly invite you to the wedding of their granddaughter So.
Riya Somani
(d/o Mr Mahendra Somani and Mrs Jayanti Somani) with Chi. Rohan Chandak
(s/o Late Shri Manoj Chandak and Jamna Bai Chandak) on 25
January 2007 at 8p.m.
at the Taj Palace Hotel, Delhi Programme and RSVP details
attached. Request no gifts.
I didn’t read the other cards in the box, which had details of the
other ceremonies. I simply sat there frozen. I clutched the silk pouch
like a stress ball and looked straight ahead.
‘It happened so fast,’ Riya said.
I remained quiet. Shock waves ran through me. Numb, I traced the
golden embroidery on the pouch.
‘A part of me can’t believe it is happening,’ she said, to fill the
awkward silence.
‘You’re getting married?’ I whispered, my tone unusually calm, my
gaze still averted.
‘In two months,’
I smirked and turned to her. ‘Wow, Riya. I’ve never faced such a
dodge, even on the basketball court.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I wanted us to be friends again. But you are leaving college.
Getting married.’
‘That’s life, I guess.’
‘You’re nineteen.’
‘Will turn twenty after the wedding, later the same year.’
‘Have you gone mad, Riya?’
‘You’ve lost the right to talk to me like that,’ she said.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine. Madhav, it is my choice. Nobody is forcing me. I want to
leave.’
‘Why?’
‘I never wanted to do this course. I don’t want to be near my sexist
relatives.’
‘You could finish your degree. Go abroad later to study. Why
marriage?’
‘I want adventure, travel and excitement. Rohan promises all that.’
‘Are you sure?’
'Yeah. He's crazy. He keeps me entertained. He’s also well settled.
What’s wrong with marrying him?’
‘He’s rich.’
‘So? Is that his only flaw? So am I.’
‘Not a flaw. Just an observation. He couldn’t wait for you to finish
college? He wants you to drop out?’
‘Well, he doesn’t care either way. It’s his family.They want him to
get married soon. My parents don’t want to risk losing a match like
him, too.’
‘Riya, nobody drops out of college like this.'
‘People abroad do it all the time.’
‘Not in India.’
‘Oh, come on. Most of India needs a degree to get a job and make
a living. I don’t need that, right?’
She wasn’t wrong. Losers like me need to study, else we have no
future. People who are born at 100, Aurangzeb Road can do
the same connection to her as I had in the past.
‘I don’t think you want to know.’
‘I do,’ I said. ‘Of course I do.’
‘You will judge me.’
‘Have I ever?’
She kept quiet.
‘Riya, have I ever judged you? You judged me and threw me out of
your life.’
‘Madhav, please.’
‘Let’s not go there. Yeah, fine. Anyway, are you still thinking about
quitting or is it final?’
‘Pretty final.’
‘Why?’
She took a deep breath.
‘Open the glove box.’
‘What?’
She pointed to the storage box below the dashboard. Puzzled, I
reached over and opened it. It had three red cardboard boxes inside.
‘Take one,' she said.
I picked up a box and sat back on my seat. The velvet-lined red
box had golden leaves embossed on it.
‘Open it.’
I switched on the reading light on my side of the car. I lifted the
red-gold lid of the box.
Inside, I found a red envelope on top of a silk pouch.The card and
the pouch had ‘R and R’ on it.
‘What?’ I said.
She gestured with her eyes that I look further.
I held the envelope in one hand and the pouch in the other. The
pouch contained pieces of chocolate wrapped in silver paper. I put the
pouch aside and opened the card.
I read a couple of lines. My head swam.
‘What?’ I turned to Riya.
‘I told you, you don’t want to know.’
I composed myself and summoned the resolve to read the full
card. It went like this: Shri Vishnu Somani and Shrimati Kala Devi
Somani humbly invite you to the wedding of their granddaughter So.
Riya Somani
(d/o Mr Mahendra Somani and Mrs Jayanti Somani) with Chi. Rohan Chandak
(s/o Late Shri Manoj Chandak and Jamna Bai Chandak) on 25
January 2007 at 8p.m.
at the Taj Palace Hotel, Delhi Programme and RSVP details
attached. Request no gifts.
I didn’t read the other cards in the box, which had details of the
other ceremonies. I simply sat there frozen. I clutched the silk pouch
like a stress ball and looked straight ahead.
‘It happened so fast,’ Riya said.
I remained quiet. Shock waves ran through me. Numb, I traced the
golden embroidery on the pouch.
‘A part of me can’t believe it is happening,’ she said, to fill the
awkward silence.
‘You’re getting married?’ I whispered, my tone unusually calm, my
gaze still averted.
‘In two months,’
I smirked and turned to her. ‘Wow, Riya. I’ve never faced such a
dodge, even on the basketball court.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I wanted us to be friends again. But you are leaving college.
Getting married.’
‘That’s life, I guess.’
‘You’re nineteen.’
‘Will turn twenty after the wedding, later the same year.’
‘Have you gone mad, Riya?’
‘You’ve lost the right to talk to me like that,’ she said.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine. Madhav, it is my choice. Nobody is forcing me. I want to
leave.’
‘Why?’
‘I never wanted to do this course. I don’t want to be near my sexist
relatives.’
‘You could finish your degree. Go abroad later to study. Why
marriage?’
‘I want adventure, travel and excitement. Rohan promises all that.’
‘Are you sure?’
'Yeah. He's crazy. He keeps me entertained. He’s also well settled.
What’s wrong with marrying him?’
‘He’s rich.’
‘So? Is that his only flaw? So am I.’
‘Not a flaw. Just an observation. He couldn’t wait for you to finish
college? He wants you to drop out?’
‘Well, he doesn’t care either way. It’s his family.They want him to
get married soon. My parents don’t want to risk losing a match like
him, too.’
‘Riya, nobody drops out of college like this.'
‘People abroad do it all the time.’
‘Not in India.’
‘Oh, come on. Most of India needs a degree to get a job and make
a living. I don’t need that, right?’
She wasn’t wrong. Losers like me need to study, else we have no
future. People who are born at 100, Aurangzeb Road can do
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