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regular-article-logo Tuesday, 16 April 2024

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‘My bad. Only sixteen years older than me. Not eighteen.’

Riva Razdan Published 12.12.21, 12:02 AM

Illustration: Roudra Mitra

Recap: Seher receives multiple rejections for job applications and Jaspal shows up announced at the Pandit’s after the disastrous dinner.

The Pandits glanced down at the little golden key, a little dubiously, as though none of them believed this to be the only copy Jaspal had. As a trained actress, however, Raahi was able to rouse out of her shock first to perform social nicety.

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‘Can we get you a cup of coffee Jaspal? Or some of your little croissants? With a little fromage blanc?’

‘You say it so well,’ Jaspal said, with adoration.

Raahi smiled, winningly. ‘French is like music. The last few letters are always just left off and lilting.’

Jaspal gazed at her as though he was listening to a lullaby at that moment. Seher smiled at her ma, glad she had someone to show off for even in their new anonymity in Bombay.

‘It’s so good to see you Uncle,’ she said, hoping to re-establish good terms with their neighbours. ‘We thought we wouldn’t after last night. Zaara is very sorry about the evening. She didn’t mean to offend your wife.’

Reluctantly, Jaspal looked away from Raahi and focused on her older daughter.

‘Ah but she shouldn’t be. Offending my wife has worked in her favour.’

‘I’m sorry?’

Jaspal Singh smiled at the younger one with all the teasing affection of a favourite uncle.

‘Mehra likes you, dear.’

Raahi started, suddenly no longer charmed by her neighbour. Her smile vanished instantly, and her voice was sharp as a switchblade.

‘What?’

‘It’s true’ Jaspal grinned, oblivious. ‘He said himself that he hasn’t met a pretty girl with a mind of her own since he was 20. And that... well that’s another story. And too tragic to go into. But the point is, he likes our Zaara, here. He would like to get to know her better.’

But Raahi was not jumping up in joy and hugging her kindly neighbour who had come bearing what he thought was a fantastic proposal. Nor were either of her daughters. Especially not the one the proposal was meant for.

Jaspal decided to repeat himself. Perhaps the pretty one hadn’t been able to grasp the message yet.

‘Adarsh Mehra likes you, beta,’ he explained.

‘Um so?’ Zaara asked.

Jaspal blinked blankly at her, confused.

‘Maybe you don’t know who Mehra is... but his father was one of the biggest mill-owners in Bombay. They own a lot of the land in this city. Land that is now priceless.’

Raahi flinched. ‘I think you’ll find that land is not the only thing that is considered priceless in this house Mr Guru.’

Jaspal fell silent, finally noticing the chill in Raahi’s usually warm voice. Before he could stammer back a response, Zaara stood up and looked at him, eyes afire, ‘So I’m supposed to fall at his feet because he’s rich? Is that it?’

‘No. Of course not... that’s not what I... he’s a gentleman. A handsome one. And an intelligent one. A doctor himself.’

Intrigue got the better of Raahi. Even though she wanted to throw Jaspal Guru out of her house, she paused and decided to consider the matter coolly.

‘A doctor? How come?’

‘His father cut him off at 24. It was all over a sordid business with a...’ his voice dropped, ‘a Muslim girl.’ Then it rose again, as though he himself were above such nonsense. ‘Jeetender Mehra was a very traditional man. Anyway, he died three years ago, and left Mehra everything. Now the man’s worth more than a few thousand crore.’

‘That’s wonderful for him, really. But I’m not interested. Also I’m half Muslim. In case Mr Mehra didn’t realise.’

‘Oh that’s alright, both his parents are dead now.’

Seher stifled a laugh. She couldn’t help it, it was all too ridiculous.

‘Wonderful,’ Zaara said, more stunned than ever. ‘But I’m still not interested.’

Jaspal looked dumbfounded. ‘You’re being hasty. He’s one of the most eligible bachelors in town.’

‘What an absurd town,’ Zaara laughed. ‘Where the most eligible bachelor is forty years old.’

‘No no. He’s not forty!’ Jaspal cried. ‘He’s… 38!’

Zaara laughed again.

‘My bad. Only sixteen years older than me. Not eighteen.’

Jaspal coloured, embarrassed.

‘I’m going to give up now, before I worsen Mehra’s case for him. I don’t think I’m pitching him right.’ He smiled at the Pandits, regretful and shaking his head. ‘Between Neelu and I, we’ve managed to thoroughly insult you, haven’t we?’

None of the Pandits responded, each being too incredulous or indignant to speak. A conspicuous hush fell over the room, forcing Jaspal to realise that he was no longer welcome.

Taking the hint, he turned to go.

‘Wait, Jaspal Uncle,’ Zaara said suddenly. ‘I’d like to speak with Neelu. Is that possible?’

Jaspal, surprised, looked at Raahi for answers, but Zaara’s mother was as confounded as him.

‘Of course,’ he said, eager to appease. ‘She’s in her office with a client right now... but why don’t you come down in a few minutes? I’ll make sure she sees you.’

As soon as their neighbour had left the room both mother and sister turned to Zaara, confused.

‘What are you planning on doing?’ Seher whispered, concerned.

‘Eating a plate of crow,’ Zaara said. She inhaled then, steeling herself. ‘I’m going to take Neelu’s offer. I’m going to become an influencer.’

Both Raahi and Seher’s mouths fell open in synchronization. If Zaara wasn’t shivering at the thought of what she was about to do, she’d have laughed. Instead, she drew herself up and said out loud what she’d been thinking since Jaspal made his odious proposal to her.

‘No man is going to think he’s entitled to me just because he makes money and I don’t.’

Seher’s surprise disappeared to be replaced with immense gratification. Zaara was finally recognising their reality and trying to contribute to it in some way. She hugged her younger sister close, prouder than she’d ever been.

Raahi, however, appeared to be reining in a range of opposing emotions. But instead of voicing her opinion, she sighed and looked at the key on the coffee table.

‘We have got to change the locks.’

The girls nodded in immediate agreement. On the same page, for once.

(To be continued...)

This is the 22nd episode of Riva Razdan’s serialised novel Nonsense and Respectability, published every Sunday

Riva Razdan is a New York University graduate and currently working as a screenwriter and author based in Mumbai. Her debut novel Arzu was published by Hachette India in 2021

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