A Suitable Boy(704)

‘Yes,’ said Amit resignedly. ‘I’m the clever one.’

This delighted the dazzling lady.

‘I knew you when you were that high,’ she exclaimed. ‘You were very clever, even then, so I’m not surprised you’ve written all those books.’

‘Oh?’ said Amit.

Not to be outdone, the other lady asserted that she had known him since he was a bulge.

‘But a brainy bulge, no doubt,’ said Amit.

‘Now, now,’ said the lady.

There was a commotion at the gate. A group of five hermaphrodites, hearing that there was a wedding in progress, had turned up, and were singing and dancing and demanding money. So shameless were their gestures that the nearby guests were turning away in shock, but Sunil Patwardhan rushed over with his friends to enjoy the fun. Dr Kishen Chand Seth, brandishing his stick, was trying to drive them off, but they were making lewd remarks about both it and him. They would have to be paid to go away. He offered them twenty rupees, and their leader told him that he wouldn’t even service him for that amount. Dr Kishen Chand Seth hopped around in fury, but he could do nothing. They demanded fifty, and they got it.

‘It’s blackmail,’ said Dr Kishen Chand Seth furiously. ‘Sheer blackmail.’ He had had enough of hosting this wedding. He went inside to lie down and cool his head, and soon fell asleep.

Mrs Rupa Mehra, though she had broken her fast, had not done so with her usual gusto because she had to at the same time accept congratulations, introduce people to each other, watch over Haresh and Lata, keep a wary eye on Varun, and supervise the catering. But she was tearfully happy, and as she looked around her she felt even happier to see Pran talking to Professor Mishra, the Nawab Sahib talking to Mahesh Kapoor, and Maan and Firoz laughing together.

Sunil Patwardhan came up to her. ‘Many, many congratulations, Mrs Mehra.’

‘Thank you so much, Sunil. I’m so glad you’re here. You haven’t seen my father anywhere, have you?’

‘I’m afraid not – not after that altercation at the gate… Mrs Mehra, I have a small problem… Haresh left his cuff-links at my house, and he told me to put them in the room where he’ll be staying tonight.’ Sunil lished a pair of cuff-links out of his trouser pockets. ‘If you would tell me where I should take them –’

But Mrs Rupa Mehra would not be gulled so easily. She had been warned about Sunil Patwardhan’s pranks and practical jokes, and she was not going to allow him to disturb her daughter’s night of Ideal Marriage.

‘Give them to me,’ she said firmly, taking them from him. ‘I’ll make sure he gets them.’ And as a result, Haresh was the richer and Sunil the poorer by one pair of black onyx cuff-links.





19.15


KABIR had not been able to bring himself to come to the wedding. But though it was Thursday night, he had not gone to visit his mother either. Instead he took a walk by the Ganga: up-river past the banyan tree, along the dhobighat, past the Pul Mela sands underneath the Fort, along the waterfront of the old town, following the black water for miles until he came to the Barsaat Mahal.

In the shadow of a wall, he sat down on the sand for an hour, his head in his hands.

Then he got up to walk again, up the tall stairs, across the parapet and to the other side.

After a short while he came to a factory, the walls of which came down to the Ganga and prevented him from going further. But he was too tired anyway. He pressed his head against the wall.

The ceremonies will be over by now, he thought.

He hailed a boatman, and took a boat down-river back to the university and his father’s house.





19.16


THE morning after the wedding, Haresh suddenly decided over breakfast that since he happened to be in Brahmpur, he should look in on the local Praha factory.

‘But you can’t just leave me like this,’ said Lata, putting down her teacup in astonishment. They were sitting at a small table in the bridal bedroom in her grandfather’s house.

‘No,’ said Haresh. ‘I can’t. Why don’t you come too? You might enjoy it.’

‘I think I’ll go over to Savita’s,’ said Lata, and picked up her cup again.

‘What’s that shoe-box?’ asked Haresh, and opened it.

Inside was a small, carved wooden cat with a knowing smile on its face.

Lata picked it up and examined it with pleasure.

‘It’s from a cobbler I have to meet later today,’ said Haresh.

‘I like it,’ said Lata.

Haresh kissed her and went off.

Lata walked over to the window after a while and looked out at the bougainvillaea, a little puzzled. This was a strange way to begin her married life. But then she thought about it and decided that it was just as well that Haresh had not spent the day with her wandering around Brahmpur – going to the university, the ghats, the Barsaat Mahal. Since they were going to begin a new life, it was best to begin it elsewhere.