Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
SHIVINA
I smiled as I pored over the wedding album. The one from our real wedding. Not the one where I had tricked Ranvijay into marrying me, but the one he arranged for me a month later.
I was supposed to meet Ranvijay at the court for our marriage registration after I had my first photoshoot at Diya’s studio. I wore a gorgeous blood-red and gold Benarasi sari for the shoot, and I was in full bridal makeup, including a full bridal mehendi.
“I still don’t see why I couldn’t use mehendi tattoos,” I grumbled as the makeup artist dabbed on some shimmer across my eyelids.
“Because they don’t look real,” snapped Diya from her chair.
I knew why I had an aversion to wearing bridal mehendi. It was because I hadn’t worn any for my own wedding, which reinforced the feeling that I wasn’t really Ranvijay’s wife. I was just a replacement. I had jumped from single to married without having the time to adjust to the change. And now I had to play bride for Diya’s fashion house. It was enough to make a girl cry.
The shoot took hours, and I was worried we’d miss the appointment at the registrar’s.
“Chill, babe. RV just messaged me to say that the appointment has been pushed to late evening because he and Veer are stuck at work,” said Isha.
“That’s odd. Why didn’t he message me?” I asked in surprise.
“Because this tyrant has turned your phone off,” she said, rolling her eyes at Diya, who looked more like a beached whale than a tyrant currently.
“Well, I need her full attention right now. I can’t have her skipping off in the middle of the shoot just because she suddenly remembers she has to pick Zarna up from school,” said Diya sternly.
“Hey, I did that one time! And only because Zarna was sick,” I argued.
“Stop talking,” ordered the MUA.
But after the shoot, they didn’t even give me the time to wash my face before the girls urged me to get into the car.
“I can’t go to the registrar’s office like this,” I cried in horror.
“Why not? People get married there in full wedding finery,” said Isha.
“But I’m not going there to get married. We’re already married. We just have to sign a document proving that. And I don’t want Ranvijay thinking I’m making a big deal out of it.”
At every step, I had to keep reminding myself that ours was just a marriage of convenience, which wasn’t easy because what I was coming to feel for my husband felt far too real. And extremely inconvenient.
“You’re overthinking this, Shivina. Let’s get going,” said Diya, rubbing the small of her back.
But instead of the family court, they drove me back to the palace.
“We’re going the wrong way,” I cried.
“No, RV just texted to say the registrar is coming to the palace because the court is closed.”
“This feels weird, guys,” I said worriedly.
But it wasn’t. It was beautiful.
Isha and Diya ignored all my questions and led me up to the roof, and I was surprised to see Ranvijay waiting for me in front of a wedding mandap, dressed like a bridegroom. Rani Ma and Zarna were there as well.
My sister stepped forward to take my hand.
“ Surprise! I’m going to do your kanyadaan, Di!” she said excitedly.
“ What? Guys, what’s going on?”
“This is your real wedding, beta,” said Rani Ma, coming over to drop a kiss on my forehead. “The one you deserved the first time around.”
With tears in my eyes, Zarna and I walked hand-in-hand towards Ranvijay as my favourite music played in the background. My little sister gave my hand in marriage to the man who had arranged all of this without giving me so much as a hint, and he married me all over again in front of the wonderful people who had conspired to give me a very special second wedding.
We signed the register and repeated the vows we made in front of the agni the first time. There was no agni this time, but the vows felt even more real. And I noticed that while the vows were all about caring for and supporting each other, they made no mention of love. I knew what Ranvijay was offering me. A lifetime of friendship, affection, care and support, whether we stayed married to each other or not. But I also wanted his love. God help me, I wanted his love.
Tears streamed down my face, and everyone took them for tears of joy. Ranvijay kissed me gently, and I poured all my feelings for him into the kiss.
Just then, Diya groaned loudly, and a gush of fluid at her feet took everyone by surprise.
“Fuck! Is that what I think it is?” I asked.
“My water broke,” wailed Diya.
“You can’t deliver here,” cried Isha in a panic. “Can’t you cross your legs or something to hold it in until we get you to a hospital?”
“No, you idiot! I can’t hold a baby in if it’s determined to come out,” screeched the expectant mother.
“Calm down, everyone. First babies take time. There’s plenty of time to get Diya to the hospital,” said Rani Ma wisely.
“Oh, then you guys carry on,” said Diya, waving at us to keep kissing.
“Babe, get moving,” said Dheer in an aggravated tone. “We’re going to the hospital now.”
Of course, then we spent part of our wedding night in the waiting room of a hospital because I wouldn’t hear of leaving until Diya had her baby. It was a beautiful baby girl who was the spitting image of her mother. And seeing her sweet face made me feel like I wanted one of my own.
Much later, Ranvijay made love to me on a bed strewn with rose petals, but I stopped him as he was about to roll on a condom. He shot me a questioning look, and I shook my head.
“I want nothing between us anymore,” I whispered.
“You might get pregnant, baby. Are you ready to head down that road so soon?” he asked, emotion making his voice rough.
I smiled at him mistily as I rolled him over onto his back and straddled him. He held my eyes as I impaled myself on his hardness and began to move slowly. He gripped my hips and began to move me faster and harder until I came apart in his arms with a loud cry. After we’d cleaned up, he wrapped his arms around me and spooned me from behind. And I said a small prayer, asking God to bless us with a baby soon.
But as I sat and pored over the wedding album two months later, I mulled over the fact that I was still not pregnant. A fact that was beginning to worry me. I stifled the anxiety and joined in the Diwali celebrations in my new home with excitement.
Zarna was still commuting to school, but now she put forth the idea of moving into the school’s fancy and expensive dorm.
“Are you out of your mind?” I asked angrily. “If I wanted to dump you in a boarding school, I would have done it as soon as Baba died.”
“But you couldn’t afford it then, Di. You can afford it now. It will make your life easier if you don’t have to worry about me being stuck on the road for hours every day,” she said hesitantly.
“I don’t care, Zarna. You’ll have to live at the school from Monday to Friday and only see me over the weekend. I can’t go without seeing you for such long intervals.”
“But you have RV now,” she argued.
“So what? He’s not replacing you in any way, Zarna. No one can replace you.”
“What if you have a baby? You’ll go nuts trying to keep an eye on me while you handle a baby,” she said in a small voice.
“I’ll manage. Just like Baba managed when you came into our lives. He didn’t send me off to a boarding school, and I’m not doing that to you, either.”
“You’re stuck with us, champ,” said Ranvijay, coming into the room. “There’s no escaping the Mirpur family. You’re one of us now.”
Zarna hugged him tightly and ran out of the room. I knew she had been worried about her place in my new life, and I was glad my new family made her feel so welcome.
“Rani Sa, how about a fencing match?” asked Ranvijay, putting his arms around me and nipping at my shoulder.
“Are you ready to lose to me again? Just don’t throw a tantrum like you did when you lost the poker game at Diwali,” I teased.
“You cheated, and you know it,” he said sternly. “You had Isha and Diya spying on my cards.”
“Not at all! I had your mother and Sannata Mausi spying on your cards,” I confessed brazenly.
“I’ll deal with those traitors later. First, I need to beat you at fencing,” he growled. “Are you up for a match?”
“Always,” I murmured, turning around to face him. “Prepare to be touched, Your Highness.”
“Oh, you can touch me anytime you like. Too bad you won’t be able to touch me with your sword,” he replied cockily.
I kissed the living daylights out of him just to put him off balance, but he kissed me right back, and I had a feeling I was the one who was thrown off balance in this situation. After he beat me hands down, Ranvijay spent an hour correcting my form.
By the time I showered, dressed and headed for my fitting at Diya’s studio, every part of me was sore and aching. She grumbled that I had lost weight, so all the clothes had to be taken in a few inches.
Despite all the struggles that came with a new baby, Diya had debuted the new ready-to-wear collection at Diwali, and to my surprise, the collection sold out right away.
“I told you it was a good idea for Ranvijay to release the Diwali party pictures online. You’re an instant hit,” she crowed as I played with her baby, Kuhu.
I was nothing of the sort. My so-called social success was the result of a carefully orchestrated PR exercise by Ranvijay’s firm. They had begun by releasing our wedding pics, and when the Dodiyas had countered that by releasing a few blind pieces wondering how Kavya’s fiancé had dumped her so heartlessly, they had fired another salvo of blind pieces mentioning the events at her bachelorette party. That had silenced the Dodiyas and moved the public sentiment in our favour so that our Diwali party pictures went viral, and we got a lot of positive press.
“Babe, Delhi Fashion Week starts soon. I want you to be the showstopper for my show,” said Diya as she adjusted the fall of an embroidered silk lehenga.
“You’re mad.” I declared. “I can’t catwalk on the runway.”
“Of course, you can,” insisted Isha as she worked on her store’s website.
She had recently opened Gulab, a vintage clothing and furniture store on the ground floor of Gulab Mahal. Apart from that, she also had a furniture staging business. These women were such an inspiration. Meanwhile, here I was, terrified of every new change.
“I’ve never done it before, guys.”
“Meanwhile, I’ve been doing it for years. I’ll teach you all you need to know,” said Diya calmly.
“Ugh! Don’t blame me if I trip and fall on my face,” I grumbled.
Just then, we heard a crash downstairs. Kuhu cried out in surprise. Diya went to see what was happening, but I held up a hand.
“I’ll check it out,” I ordered. “You stay with Kuhu.”
Hesitantly, I peered over the edge of the balcony.
“Ma’am, someone broke the window,” called out Bina, Diya’s assistant and Isha went downstairs to investigate before we could stop her.
The next minute, she came running upstairs in a panic.
“Guys, someone’s throwing petrol bombs through the hole in the window,” she cried.
Diya gasped in fear, but before we could react, our world exploded.