Part 25 (2/2)
She pressed her lips together and watched her sandaled feet taking one step after the other.
”I don't think you like him,” Abhay said. ”Do you have to marry him?”
”Everything's been arranged. The guests have been invited. I've bought my saris and jewelry.”
”Does anyone care that you don't actually want to spend your life with this man?”
”How do you know what I want?”
”It was completely obvious when I saw the two of you together. I don't understand why you're doing this to yourself. You look completely lifeless.”
Rasika cleared her throat. ”I'm just kind of stressed-out because I'm dreading all the Hindu rituals-sitting in front of that hot fire, and changing my sari halfway through, and chanting all those prayers.” Her voice quavered. She cleared her throat again. ”That's all. After the wedding's over, everything'll be fine.”
”Stop.” Abhay stood still and put a hand on her shoulder. ”You're running blind. You need to open your eyes. Listen. We've both been looking for an ideal. You think your life will be perfect if only you can be the kind of person your parents seem to want. I thought my life would be perfect if only I could find a place on earth that matched the utopia in my imagination. We're both searching for something we've built in our own brains.”
While he was talking, Rasika stopped, but she seemed to be looking past him, at something in the distance above his ear. He stopped talking, and she walked ahead. He trailed behind her. They came upon a pond, s.h.i.+ning blue water edged with greenery. No one stopped to look. Mayuri and Khaleel seemed deep in conversation, and Rasika just kept walking. They pa.s.sed benches from which people were selling cuc.u.mber slices, newspaper cones full of peanuts, sliced guavas smeared with chili paste.
They pa.s.sed a small garden of bushes clipped into animal and cartoon shapes, and reached a clearing with a huge tree. Its roots climbed out of the ground, and its branches rayed out just above the roots. The whole thing, roots and trunk, seemed to have a diameter as broad as a bus. They all stopped near the tree, and Rasika strayed a few steps away from the group. Abhay noticed her remove her sungla.s.ses and dab carefully at her eyes with a hankie.
”This is the largest tree in Lalbagh,” Khaleel said.
The tree was obviously a photo opportunity: women in bright saris, boys in shorts, and girls in dresses were crawling all over its roots to find places to sit, before smiling for the camera.
”Mayuri, you and Rasika stand near the tree. I will take a photo.” Khaleel held up his cell phone. The sun dappled the ground around them.
”I'll take the picture,” Abhay offered, holding out his hand. ”You go stand with Mayuri and Rasika.”
Mayuri stepped toward Rasika to bring her into the picture. Rasika was now blinking her eyes and trying to smile brightly. Suddenly, Mayuri clutched at Rasika's arm. ”My cousin is here,” she whispered.
Abhay looked in the direction of Mayuri's frightened gaze. A group of young men strolled toward them over the sandy earth, holding newspaper cones and tossing peanuts into their mouths.
Mayuri turned and walked swiftly away in the direction of the tree. Abhay, Khaleel, and Rasika stood around awkwardly. Mayuri disappeared behind the tree. Khaleel slipped his phone into his pocket.
”Do you come here often?” Rasika asked Khaleel, smiling at him.
”Yes, I do,” Khaleel answered, grinning and playing along.
The young men had stopped to watch. Rasika and Khaleel kept up their silly banter. Abhay wandered a few steps away. The young men were now whispering to each other.
Rasika called cheerfully, ”Abhay, come on. Let's get our picture taken.” Khaleel was displaying his phone again. She hooked an arm through Abhay's- he winced in pain as his arm was jerked-and marched him over to the tree. He was surprised at her willingness to touch him in public. He obliged by slipping an arm around her shoulders. She held her sungla.s.ses in the fingertips of her other hand. As Khaleel held out his phone to frame them, one of the young men from the cousin group seemed to be aiming his cell phone at Rasika. Abhay glanced at Rasika to see if she noticed. She wasn't looking at the men. She was beaming determinedly at Khaleel.
The men walked away. Khaleel pocketed his phone.
”We should leave,” Rasika said as she and Abhay joined Khaleel.
”Yes,” Khaleel agreed. He continued to look at the tree.
”You go first,” Rasika said. ”We'll find Mayuri and walk in a different direction.”
Khaleel put his phone back in his pocket and walked away, still gazing sideways at the tree. He gave a surrept.i.tious wave and a quick smile, after which his pace quickened.
Mayuri and Rasika gave Abhay a ride back home. Mayuri had use of the family car for the day. No one spoke of Mayuri's narrow escape, and she herself seemed fairly calm. She wove comfortably through the traffic, accelerating aggressively whenever anyone threatened to cut her off.
As they dropped Abhay off at the gate of his grandmother's house, Rasika said, ”You're not far from our place.”
”We could walk home from here,” Mayuri said.
”It might be faster,” Rasika agreed, and they looked at each other and giggled.
Abhay, unlatching the gate and stepping into the compound, still heard their laughter from the car. He rubbed his sore neck and shoulder. As the car pulled away from the curb, Abhay looked back at Rasika and discovered her eyes on him. She turned away as soon as she saw him looking, and the car moved off.
”How do you know Abhay?” Mayuri asked casually. ”You seem on very good terms with him.”
Rasika and Mayuri sat on the flat rooftop in the evening, eating slices of cuc.u.mber and talking. Rasika felt exhilarated, as she often did when she flirted with the life she wasn't supposed to live. In this case, she was experiencing it vicariously, through Mayuri's narrow escape that afternoon.
”He's just an old family friend. n.o.body, really.” Rasika laughed.
Mayuri dabbed her cuc.u.mber slice in the small pile of salt on her plate. ”I wondered if you had ever dated him. I wondered how your parents would feel if you were in the same situation I am in.”
Rasika glanced at Mayuri's pretty face. She felt a connection with Mayuri, since she had helped her cousin in a way Jill and other friends had always helped her. ”I have dated,” she said quietly. ”Not much. And my parents don't know.”
”You never wanted to marry anyone else?” Mayuri's eyes looked eager.
Rasika felt that Mayuri would understand her own predicament. As the sky grew darker, Rasika began to reveal more and more about her own life. She started out cautiously, talking merely about being ”friends” with men in college. When Mayuri didn't seem shocked, Rasika told her about her friends.h.i.+p with Abhay. She left out the part about the Renaissance Hotel, but mentioned that she had visited him in Portland. She felt more relaxed now than she'd ever been on this trip. It was a relief to confess to someone who cared.
”You have experience with men, but you have not fallen in love like I have.” Mayuri covered her face with her hands. ”I don't know what I should do.”
Rasika laid a hand on Mayuri's shoulder. ”It's hard for us. We have a little more freedom than our mothers did, but just enough to get ourselves in trouble. They still expect us to do what they tell us.”
”You are the only one who understands me,” Mayuri said.
”Now you know what I'm going through. I don't know if Yuvan is really the right person for me, but time is running out, and everyone wants me to do this. So I'm going to go through with it. This is what we have to do.”
Mayuri looked up and nodded sadly. ”I don't know if I'll be able to be like you, Rasika. I'm afraid for myself.”
Rasika held Mayuri's hand in silence. All that mattered now, in the darkness, was that Mayuri understood her-that an Indian woman, someone in her own family, was aware of what she was sacrificing in order to sustain the structure of tradition. In some way this almost made up for what Rasika was going to have to go through.
Chapter 17.
Early the next morning, while Abhay's uncle was still sitting in the living room in his dhoti, watching the dawn pooja from Tirupati on television, the doorbell screeched through the house. His grandmother was taking her bath, and his aunt was in the kitchen grinding something in the blender, so Abhay answered the door. Rasika stood on the doorstep. She looked terrible. Her eyes were wild, her hair was uncombed, and she had on a pair of jeans, a baggy T-s.h.i.+rt, and unmatched sandals-one brown, one black.
”What're you doing here?” He stepped out of the house and pulled the wood door shut behind him. The bore well drilling was finished, but the yard was still muddy.
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