There was a loud crash from the kitchen which resonated throughout the house. The crash ensued a silence so tangible that you could cut with a knife. A minute later a woman could be heard sobbing from inside the kitchen.
Vipin went in quickly, followed by his daughters and saw his wife sitting on a stool with her head in her hands and shaking uncontrollably. On the floor the milk was flowing in an abstract shape, making its way under the refrigerator on one side and into the small drain under the sink on the other. Vipin kept staring at his wife for a few seconds after which he let out a sigh and went over to her side, careful to avoid spoiling his new shoes. He put a hand on her shoulder and soothingly said in a hoarse voice, “Come now Parul, it is just milk. No need to take so much tension and worry yourself sick. It’s ok, come now.” Parul looked up at her husband, her face streaked with tears and eyes red. She shook her head, mumbled an inaudible apology and hurried out of the room, patting her elder daughter Nupur on her way out. Vipin looked at his beloved daughters, gazing at them intently.
How could he prevent another disaster from happening? How could he stop his own mind from being flooded with doubts and uncertainty? Hadn’t last time been quite similar? Hadn’t all their preparations gone down the drain just like the milk on the floor? Could he possibly stop four sets of expectations from breaking?
He put a smile on his face and ushered them out of the kitchen, asking the maid to clean the mess. He sent both his daughters in their room to get ready as it was almost time for the prospective groom’s family to arrive. He looked around the living room once again, making sure there was nothing out of its place. He went into his room where he found Parul sitting in front of the mirror combing her hair yet again. “Parul, we need to control ourselves now. We can’t just let our apprehensions break Nupur’s morale. We do not want it to turn out to be a disaster like last time, do we?” Parul nodded and took in a deep breath and let it out noisily, putting on a smile and going over to her daughters in the next room. “Nupur are you ready now? Let me see how my princess is looking today. Ahh, beautiful! Megha, fetch my kajal from my room.”
The door bell rang shrilly and made everybody jump. For a fraction of a second there was no sound nor any movement. Then Vipin cleared his throat and walked rigidly to the door. He waited for his wife to come and stand behind him and then finally opened the door.
“Welcome, welcome! Please come in Aggarwal ji, please come in. Namaste bhabhi ji, please come in.”
“How are you Jain sahab, hope everything is well and good” replied the groom’s father. He sat on the largest sofa with his wife on one side and his son on the other. His eyes moved around the living room, taking in every inch of the place. Things seemed to have met his approval as he grinned at Vipin and enquired about his ailing father. There was a concentrated silence, in between which the women of both the families smiled at each other and the men cleared their throats. Vipin took this opportunity to take in his prospective son-in-law. Medium height, lean body and average looks- his own daughter was definitely more handsome. The boy was pursuing his MBA in marketing and had left his job to “study properly” for his upcoming exams. He could not help thinking that Nupur was already working with a well established consultancy firm. The boy’s father had maintained that they wanted a quick wedding.
Parul was making small conversations with the boy’s mother enquiring about their family, whether they lived jointly or separately. The conversation dissolved into silence again and so Vipin asked his wife to bring some snacks and tea. After a short interval when Parul returned with their maid carrying a tray laden with snacks and a pot of hot steaming tea, Vipin asked her to bring Nupur out as well.
“Please wait a second, Jain sahab, what’s the hurry? Let’s talk first” contravened the boy’s father.
“Ok, as you wish Aggarwal ji, no issues” pat came the reply from the girl’s father.
“Jain sahab, we come from a well to do and prestigious family. We have relatives spread across half of India and some even live abroad. Everybody would come for the wedding as he is our only son, much loved by everybody in the family.”
Vipin nodded his head to everything he said, his mind already racing way ahead. He knew what was coming, knew what expectations they had. He also knew what the conclusion of this would be. He kept quiet and listened to them. Parul on the other hand was wringing her hands and fidgeting every two seconds. She had a haggard look on her face that screamed for mercy.
The boy’s father went on with his speech about his family holdings, their rich relatives, and the number of cars in their family, his son’s prospective earnings and their family name. All this while Vipin maintained a calm and indifferent front and let Aggarwal go on with his ramblings. He knew the end result of this conversation and expected nothing else now. He knew, despite his repeated enquiries and his wife’s repeated prayers that this was going to be like the last meeting. There was no hope. By now Vipin had learnt to not let his hopes soar high.
“So Jain sahab, what do you have to say?”
Vipin folded his hands, looked straight in the eyes of the man in front of him and said “I am a small man Aggarwal ji...”
