After a moment of silence, I peek at my father to find him glaring at me. A shudder of chill passes through my core. Where is this heading? It would all have been just fine if my sister kept her mouth shut. I am going to find a way to get back at her.
My mother tries yet again to coax him. “Satish, they are Gujarati because Jitu was Gujarati. All these years, Preeto has been living among us Gujaratis, singlehandedly raising Raag. There is no doubt about her etiquette and sense of respect for our culture. We have talked about this and decided to move forward.” My mother’s eyes widen. “Can you please be happy right now? Our little girl will be married soon with Raag, who is the most eligible bachelor in our community. Let them be happy.”
Mr. Satish-Angry-Bhatt shakes his head in disapproval but doesn’t reply and gulps a full glass of water at once, which makes his mustache stop trembling. He rests the glass on the dinner table and takes some more curry from the big pot. We don’t show disrespect for food, for it is considered God’s blessings.
“Come on Pappa, a cell phone would keep them in contact.” Bansi tries to make up for her mistake. Or so it seems. She doesn’t look scared, though.
I turn my head toward her and narrow my eyes. She bumps my shoulder as if this whole episode is a fun exercise for her.
“You eat your food; you are too young to understand all that.” My father shuts her up.
Seriously? Too young? My little sister Bansi has a brain as big as the three of us combined, I think. She is the one who started all this. She looks down and focuses on her food carelessly as if she is suddenly bored of the conversation. I notice a slight nod of her head and a hint of a smile.
Then it rings—a tune that is new to our senses. The four of us look at each other wondering what that is. Oh, it is my new phone. My natural reaction is to look at my father and, thankfully, he is looking in the direction of upstairs. I swiftly glance at my mother, who is smiling.
In an excited high-pitched voice, she says, “Go, pick up! It’s your new phone. Don’t worry about your plate, I will put it in the sink.”
After moving my chair promptly, I run upstairs. I am relieved as the ringing ends my family’s awkward conversation. As soon as I enter our tiny bedroom, I pick up the fancy silver phone that lay on my table.
“Hello…” I manage to speak while still huffing.
“Hi…how are you, love?” he says, making me blush and I am all hearts.
“Are you always going to address me as love?”
“Isn’t that what you called me when you hung up on me?”
I giggle. “I was pretty sure by then that you would never call back!” I clarify. “So, I had nothing to lose. If that was the first and last time to call you my love, I allowed myself to be audacious and said what I did.” I turn on the energy-saving soft white lights in the room using my elbow.
“I am glad that you did.”
“Besides, I did call you love, because you are my love. Also, I love it when you call me that,” I murmur. The drama downstairs is all forgotten, and my mind is in a dreamy land of an enchanted forest.
“Well, it’s set then!” he says.
I say, “By the way, your love is delighted to know that you are just one click away.”
“Same here, love.”
My spirits instantly lift themselves off the floor and seem to have found new wings. Raag continues in a romantic tone, “I am sure you look beautiful in person when you laugh… You know, my heart beats a little faster when you laugh.”
“Thank you, Mr. Purohit. To see me laugh, you have to cross seven oceans. And speaking of which, when is that going to be?” I ask and move into the bathroom to wash my hands. I attempt to find out if he has plans even though Auntie Preeto wasn’t aware of any. While washing my hands, I try to balance my shiny new toy between my ear and shoulder.
“Well, you might have to wait for that Ms. Bhatt. Like I said before, six months or a year, maybe.” He is pretty casual about it.
“A year!” My tone is a bit too high while my phone slides down my chest and fumbles in my hands. Right before it hits the ground, thankfully I manage to get ahold of it.
“Are you still there?” I ask in a louder voice, as if it were an old era phone when you actually had to shout for the other person to hear your voice.
“Yes, ma’am!” Raag replies. After a momentary pause, he asks, “Would you like to see me in person?” He sounds concerned.
“Yes, I do want to see you in person.” I step out of the bathroom and get into my red Sherpa jacket, socks, and slippers.
“Oh…okay,” he says as if he is lost in thought. “I thought you said it is a good thing that I can’t visit. It’s not too late…we could figure something out. I could back off then…”
What? Back off?
Just as I step out onto the balcony, I squeal, “Wait, no…oh my God!”
Turning on the right side, I see the black ghost, dear Uncle Chaddha, walking leisurely on his balcony. Ag. Shaking my head in disappointment, I take a U-turn. “No. Raag, not because I am not sure of us,” I whisper, covering my hand over the phone. I murmur, “Raag, I don’t have to see you in person to be sure of my love for you. I want to see you like any girl would want to see her love.” My tone picks up a romantic edge. “Not just once, all day and all night.”
“Oh!” Raag sounds amused. “I see…”
“Raag!” I speak softly, and all I hear is his chuckles that wake the butterflies in my stomach. “Let’s talk about it like adults.” I try a serious tone.
He is prompt in his reply, and I sense a smile. “We are adults.”
I grumble in response, “You know what I mean!”
“Okay, sorry! Go ahead.”
“If you arrived right away, the whole universe would want us to get engaged and married. I still have a few months left for studies. It would be nice to finish my degree.”
“Absolutely. I would be one hundred percent supportive in that. I know we have to work on some of the programming fundamentals,” Raag says, making me laugh.
“Yes, we must,” I agree, staring at the stars and savoring the fact that such a supportive man is mine. “So, you could come whenever you find that passage in time. There is no rush.”
“Okay, point to be noted!” Raag exclaims. “A passage in time.”
I wonder for a minute or so, thinking about what all he should know about me. In this atypical love story of Raag and me, the whole fundamental process of falling in love is reversed. We know very intimate details about each other like my views on the whole arranged marriage, my writing interest, a love story of his parents, Raag’s late father, and his dreams. I think now is the time to start on a basic day-to-day life facts. What could be a better start than food? The sooner he knows about my cooking abilities, the better it will be.
I take a deep breath, still staring at the saptarishi, the Big Dipper. “Look, there is something I have to confess.” I am for sure nervous. Cooking has always been a sensitive topic for me.
“Let’s hear it.” Before I say anything, he adds, “You should know that you don’t have to tell me anything unless you really feel like it. Basically, never feel obliged.”