“Here, this is for you.” Auntie Preeto hands me a small box wrapped in red. I am surprised, as she already gave me one gift box.
“Um…Auntie, you already gave me something. What is the need—”
She cuts me off mid-sentence and says, “This is not the ritual and not from me. This is from Raag. He asked me to give it to you. I hope you like it.” Her tone is soft and warm. Her eyes gleam every time she looks at me.
I wonder what it is!
The radiating smile on Auntie Preeto’s face is hard to contain as I reply, “Oh…um, thank you. I mean…thank him. I mean, I would…”
Why would I stutter? Raag sent me a gift, and I can barely keep my bearings together. Why does he have such an impact on me?
Auntie Preeto stops me again and says, “You kids talk to each other.” I am glad she saves me from real embarrassment.
All of this is so sudden, and I seem not to have a vocabulary developed for such social occasions.
Then Auntie Preeto looks at my father, who appears not so pleased with this gesture. “Kids these days, you know Satish-ji.” Ji is added at the end of someone’s name to add respect. “Raag is not here still he wanted to do something for Mayuri. I only suggested that maybe he should gift her something. It would be a nice gesture.” She tactfully tries to convince my father to let me accept the extra gift.
My father, Mr. Satish-Angry-Bhatt—his trembling graying mustache and his angry facial expressions are not helping at all.
“So, when is Raag Kumar coming for the engagement?” My father asks in his firm tone. He can ask direct and discomforting questions sometimes. In fact…a lot of times! Thank God he doesn’t make a fuss about the gift, though.
“Mayuri is still in college and studying. Raag is also busy with his new project. I am not sure when he is planning a visit. Hopefully, sometime next year he should be arriving,” she says, steadily and softly. As she says the last sentence, the shiny river of joy evaporates off my brain.
What! Next year! I feel myself tumble from seventh heaven. Of course, I don’t want him to come right away…but one year? We may have to talk about it. Well, this is December so technically next year is next month. But we don’t know which month. I try and shut my mouth on asking any question as I am more scared of my father’s angry interrogation than Auntie Preeto being unsure of a specific date and time.
Auntie Preeto taps my shoulder. “After all, how long can he stay away from such a beautiful girl?” Shyly, I smile.
My father sits upright crossing his arms, with a straight face, staring at the white wall through his thick black glasses. He looks absolutely frightening. This is how he always sits and looks when one of us, myself or my sister, made mischief as kids. I am still terrified of this epic stance.
“That is completely fine,” my mother says in her cajoling tone, taking control of the situation. “Anyway…now that we have followed the rituals and exchanged shagun, we are very happy. It doesn’t matter when we take care of the engagement and marriage,” she answers on behalf of her as well as my father, whom I peek at through the corner of my eyes.
If I know Mr. Satish Bhatt well enough, I know that if he opened his mouth, nothing good would come out of it. Thank goodness, my sweet mother came to the rescue.
“Of course, Kaveri! Now, we are family.” Auntie Preeto extends her hand that my mother warmly shakes.
While they are still holding hands, Auntie Preeto says, “I take full responsibility of this nuptial. You have my word.” She looks my father in the eyes and slowly moves her gaze toward my mother, and nods.
My mother smiles in response, with gratitude in her eyes, while my father tries hard to smile and fails miserably. He replies with an uncertain and awkward nod, his hands still folded. Soon after some more small talk, Auntie Preeto departs.
*
Upstairs in my bedroom, I barely manage to get some time before dinner to open my presents and change into my purple pajamas. Auntie Preeto gave me leaf-shaped white gold earrings. She seems to have good taste. I wonder if Raag helped her pick them out.
Well, Raag was probably sleeping while Auntie Preeto shopped.
I still wonder how Raag managed to send his gift in such a short time. It’s a mystery we need to resolve. While I am still confused over whether I should accept anything from him at this point, I love that he did. And it’s a very thoughtful gift: a cell phone, preconfigured for international calling.
Since my mother didn’t have enough time to prepare dinner, we order delicious pav bhaji, vegetable curry and bread, from the nearest restaurant. The four of us are sitting on the dining chairs, me and my sister side by side, my mother and father facing each other, savoring the food. The television is switched off, and no one seems to care. Bansi is all about inquiring on our meeting with Auntie Preeto, for she missed it due to her evening classes.
“So, what did Jiju send for you?” she asks, teasing. I frown at her.
Why the hell did she have to start with that question!
“Tell us, Mayu, I also want to know.” My mother grins while my father is focused on his food. Or pretending. I tried hard to avoid the topic in front of my father, as I know he did not like that gesture. He wouldn’t like to accept anything other than…what should I call it? Yes! A standard custom.
“It’s a cell phone,” I whisper and keep my eyes on the plate and pretend like it’s not a big deal. But it is!
“Which one?” Bansari asks again, and I peek at her and my father through the corner of my eyes.
Reluctantly I whisper, “Sony Ericsson.” I pause for a second, and before she could ask more, I summon her, “Can you eat and go back to your reading?”
Bansi doesn’t care at all. “Wow, Sony Ericsson! Can I see?”
“No…not now. Eat your food.”
There is silence for a few minutes before she asks, looking at my dad, “Pappa, Sony Ericsson is the latest phone, right? It must be costly!”
God, I swear I’m going to kill her. I am officially annoyed. I am sure my dad is controlling himself, but this provokes him to the core.
As I anticipated, Mr. Satish Bhatt starts in an angry tone. “Today it’s a phone, tomorrow it will be something else!” His hands stop messing with the food. “I could have bought a new phone for Mayu if she needed it. We don’t need favors from them.”
Oh, no!
My mother eyes Bansi in anger and glances at my father, barely managing a smile. “Satish, it is nothing like that. It’s convenient for them. Your phone is for work, and the home line doesn’t always work.” She gestures toward the black old-styled phone laying on a wooden wall-mounted stand.
My father shakes his head. “Kaveri, you will take their side because of Preeto, your friend. It’s so common among Punjabis to give big gifts that it becomes a habit. Then we have to give them expensive gifts in return. You know we can’t afford it.” I think he was waiting for a chance to pour it all out.
“Pappa, it’s nothing like Punjabis doing certain things or anything.” I am all defensive about Raag and his gesture. “Every culture is just slightly different from the other. Besides, Raag might have thought of convenience. They seem to be very nice people,” I murmur. I keep my eyes on my plate and my head down.