A Suitable Boy(290)

Mrs Rupa Mehra couldn’t help smiling back.

‘So I’ve come to Delhi not just on work but also to look around.’ Haresh passed his hand across his forehead. ‘I’ve brought all my certificates and testimonials and so on, and I have an interview with a firm here. Of course Baoji thinks I should stick with a sure thing, and Uncle Umesh doesn’t think much of anything I do, but I’m determined to give it a try. So, Kalpana, do you know of any jobs available in my line? Anyone whom I should see in Delhi? I’ll be staying at Neel Darvaza with the family as usual.’

‘I don’t, but if I hear of anything that might suit you –’ began Kalpana. Then, in a sudden flash of inspiration, she said: ‘Listen, do you really have your testimonials and so on here?’

‘They’re in the tonga outside. I came straight from the station.’

‘You did?’ Kalpana beamed at Haresh. Haresh threw up his hands in a gesture that could have meant that Kalpana’s charm was an irresistible beacon to the weary traveller, or merely that he had decided to get long-deferred social business over with before he got caught up with the family and the world. ‘Well, then, let’s see them; fetch them.’

‘Fetch them?’

‘Yes, of course, Haresh. We want to see them even if you don’t want to show them.’ Kalpana gestured towards Mrs Rupa Mehra, who nodded quite vigorously.

But Haresh was only too willing to show off his certificates. He got his briefcase from the tonga, and brought out all his diplomas from the Midlands College of Technology together with a couple of glowing testimonials, one of them from the Principal himself. Kalpana Gaur read out several of these, and Mrs Rupa Mehra listened with close attention. From time to time Haresh mentioned a relevant fact or two, for example that he had topped the list in the examination for pattern-cutting or had won some medal or other. He was not at all bashful about his achievements.

At the end of it, Mrs Rupa Mehra said to Haresh: ‘You should be very proud.’

She would have liked to talk with them further, but she had to go out that evening for dinner and had not yet changed out of her crushed sari. Excusing herself, she got up. As she was about to leave the room, Haresh said: ‘Mrs Mehra, it’s been a great pleasure to meet you. But are you sure we haven’t met before?’

Mrs Rupa Mehra said: ‘I never forget a face. I am sure I would have remembered if we had met.’ She left the room, looking pleased but slightly preoccupied.

Haresh rubbed his forehead. He felt convinced that he had seen her before, but he couldn’t remember where.





9.4


WHEN Mrs Rupa Mehra returned from dinner, she said to Kalpana Gaur:

‘Of all the boys we have met, Kalpana, I like that young man the most. Why didn’t you introduce me to him before? Was there some, well, particular reason?’

‘Well, no, Ma, I didn’t even think of him. He just happened to arrive from Kanpur.’

‘Oh, yes, Kanpur. Of course.’

‘Incidentally, he was much taken by you. He thinks you’re very attractive. He said you were “strikingly good-looking”.’

‘You are a very naughty girl to call me your good-looking aunt.’

‘But very truthful.’

‘What does your father think of him?’

‘My father only met him for a minute. But you really liked him?’ continued Kalpana, with a speculative expression.

Mrs Rupa Mehra had indeed liked Haresh. She had liked the fact that he was energetic, that he was independent of his family (though affectionate towards them), and that he clearly took great care with his appearance. Nowadays, many boys looked so scruffy. And one crucial point in Haresh’s favour was his name. Being a Khanna, he was bound to be a khatri.

‘We must fix up a meeting,’ she said. ‘Is he – you know –’

‘Available?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, he was in love with a Sikh girl once,’ said Kalpana Gaur quietly. ‘I don’t know what came of it.’

‘Oh. Why didn’t you ask him about it when I left? You talked like old friends.’

‘I wasn’t sure at the time that you were so interested in him,’ said Kalpana Gaur, her face reddening a little.

‘I am. He might be just the boy for Lata, don’t you think? I’ll telegram her to come to Delhi immediately. Immediately.’ Mrs Rupa Mehra furrowed her forehead. ‘Do you know Meenakshi’s brother?’

‘No. I only met Meenakshi at the wedding –’

‘He’s causing no end of worry to me.’ Mrs Rupa Mehra clicked her tongue.

‘Isn’t he the poet, Amit Chatterji?’ asked Kalpana. ‘He’s quite famous, you know, Ma.’