A Suitable Boy(694)

She looked at a copy of Van de Velde’s Ideal Marriage in a bookshop on Park Street – and, though the contents made her blush, determinedly bought it. ‘It’s for my daughter,’ she informed the sales clerk, who yawned and nodded. Arun stopped her from adding the design of a rose to the wedding invitation. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Ma,’ he said. ‘What do you think people will think of all that ghich-pich when they receive it? I’ll never live it down. Keep the design plain.’ He was very aggrieved that Lata, after receiving his egregious letter, had refused to be married from his house, and he was trying to compensate for his loss of authority by a commissarial attempt to take over all the practical arrangements for the wedding – at least those that could be managed at the Calcutta end. But he was up against the powerful personalities of his mother and his grandfather, both of whom had their own ideas about what was required.

Meanwhile, though his view of Haresh had not changed, he bowed – or at least nodded – to the inevitable, and attempted to be gracious. He had lunch once more among the Czechs, and balanced this with a return invitation to Sunny Park.

When Mrs Rupa Mehra asked Haresh about the date for the wedding, he said, beaming with cheerfulness: ‘The earlier the better.’ But in view of Lata’s exams and the fact that his own foster-parents were reluctant to agree to a wedding in the inauspicious last month of the Hindu calendar, the date was set for late, rather than early, April.

Haresh’s parents also requested Lata’s horoscope in order to ensure that her stars and planets matched those of her husband. They were particularly concerned that Lata should not happen to be a Manglik – a ‘Martian’ under certain astronomical definitions – because then, for a non-Manglik like Haresh to marry her would certainly result in his early death.

When Haresh passed on this request, Mrs Rupa Mehra got cross. ‘If there was any truth in all these horoscopes, there would be no young widows,’ she said.

‘I agree with you,’ said Haresh. ‘Well, I’ll tell them that no one has ever made a horoscope for Lata.’

But this resulted in a request for Lata’s date and time and place of birth. Haresh’s parents were going to get her horoscope made themselves.

Haresh went to an astrologer in Calcutta with Lata’s place and date of birth, and asked him for a safe time of birth that would ensure that her stars matched his. The astrologer gave him two or three times, one of which Haresh sent on to his parents. Luckily, their astrologer worked on the same principles and calculations as his. Their anxieties were allayed.

Amit, needless to say, was disappointed, but not as much as he might have been. His novel, now that he was free from the worry of handling the Chatterji fortunes, was going well, and many more momentous events were taking place on his pages than in his life. He sank deeper into the novel, and – a little disgusted with himself for doing so – used his disappointment and sadness to portray that of a character who happened to be conveniently on hand.

He wrote a brief note, not in verse, to congratulate Lata, and tried to behave in a sportsmanlike manner. Mrs Rupa Mehra, in any case, did not allow him to behave in any other way. The Chatterji children, like the Chatterji car, were pulled into her orbit. Amit, Kuku, Dipankar and even Tapan (when he had a moment to spare from his homework at St Xavier’s) were each assigned various tasks: the making of guest-lists, the selection of gifts, the collecting of items that had been ordered from the shops. Perhaps Lata had known that of the three men courting her, the only one who could be rejected without the loss of his friendship was Amit.





19.3


WHEN Mrs Rupa Mehra told Meenakshi one afternoon to come with her to the jewellers to help her buy, or at least select, a wedding band for Haresh, Meenakshi stretched her neck lazily and said: ‘Oh, but Ma, I’m going somewhere this afternoon?

‘But your canasta is tomorrow.’

‘Well,’ said Meenakshi with a slow and rather feline smile, ‘life is not all canasta and rummy.’

‘Where are you going?’ demanded her mother-in-law.

‘Oh, I’m going here and there,’ said Meenakshi, adding to Aparna: ‘Darling, please release my hair.’

Mrs Rupa Mehra, unaware that she had just been treated to a Kakoli-couplet, became annoyed.

‘But these are the jewellers you recommended. I will get much better service if you come with me. If you don’t come with me, I’ll have to go to Lokkhi Babu’s.’

‘Oh, no, Ma, you really shouldn’t. Go to Jauhri’s; they’re the ones who made my little gold pears.’ Meenakshi stroked her neck just below her ear with the scarlet nail of her middle finger.