Chapter 5 Deepak
Chapter 5 Deepak
KIM ISHIYAMA: Boss? You aren’t answering your phone. I have a lot of requests coming in from the communications and the publicity teams.
They’re sounding feral.
KIM ISHIYAMA: Boss? I’m fearful for my life.
KIM ISHIYAMA: Boss? I work really hard, but I need to feel appreciated, and when you ignore my text messages, I am not appreciated!
There was something incredibly dangerous about being here with Veera.
Eight months.
Eight months of limited contact.
Eight months wondering how she was doing and who she was with.
Eight months of cordiality .
He’d given her space when she’d first left because that’s what she’d wanted from him. It wasn’t until he heard her voice again
that he realized how much he needed her.
Deepak knew that was a selfish thought. It was no wonder she looked at him with disgust. He had been engaged less than twenty-four hours before, and now he was asking about their relationship. Veera was so sensitive to other people’s feelings that she probably thought his line of questioning was disrespectful to Olivia.
“We almost got locked inside,” Veera said, her words stumbling over each other as she tried to tell him a story about a museum
in Paris. She waved an empty shot glass like a conductor. “We were so scared, but then we heard a wedding march, and we knew
we weren’t alone.”
“A wedding in a museum?”
She nodded. Clumps of hair were coming loose from her braids now, and she looked beautiful drunk and disheveled, with flushed
cheeks and shiny eyes. She was a picturesque postcard sitting in front of a brilliant orange twilight that hovered over the
beach in the distance.
She jabbed her fork in one of the fried paneer cubes on a hot tava platter and waved it in sync with her shot glass. “It was
a beautiful ceremony. Right, Sana?”
Sana stood at the edge of the pavilion next to their table, watching the wedding set up in the distance. “It was scary,” she
said. “My worst nightmare.”
“The wedding on the beach or the wedding in the museum?” Veera asked.
“Obviously the museum,” Sana said. She motioned toward the sand. “The beach wedding looks amazing.”
Deepak looked around her to the mandap. The hotel staff had worked fast in building something from nothing. The small platform was now draped in flowers and sheer fabrics, with string lights hanging all around the base. A priest and his assistant, both dressed in mustard yellow tunics and red dhotis, were assembling the pyre in the center of the platform and arranging fruits, flowers, rice, and ceremonial objects around the base.
“Have there been a lot of beach weddings since you got to Goa?” Deepak asked.
“A ton,” Veera and Sana said in unison.
Veera sighed dreamily. “It’s always so beautiful.”
The bartender arrived with more shots, and before Deepak could say no, Veera took all three glasses off the tray. “Thanks,
Peter.”
“You’re most welcome, ma’am.”
“Maybe we should all stop for the day,” Deepak said. He knew he was sliding into alcohol bliss and one more drink would definitely
teeter him over the edge.
“Maybe you should drink more,” Sana said. Then picked up a shot and handed him one.
“I think I’ve drunk enough,” he said, and his laugh was a little loose, a little too free and he knew he spoke the truth.
Veera leaned forward, glassy gaze and all. “I’ll tell you what. For every shot you take, we’ll answer any question about the
last eight months.”
His hand stilled on the glass. “Any question?”
“Yup! I know you’re nosy and want to know everything about everything,” Veera said with a giggle. He felt it like seltzer
bubbles tingling his nose, and he wanted to gulp up the sound.
“Oh, I’m not playing this game,” Sana said. She tossed back the shot and then spun in a wobbly circle to face the beach. “I’m
going to check out the wedding.” She started her slow descent across the sand.
When Sana was halfway to the mandap, Veera tapped his fingers with her own. “What do you think? You and me?”
Deepak knew that the temptation was too great to pass up with Veera. If he could get a free pass to ask her whatever he wanted, he was going to take it, even if that meant he’d have the mother of all hangovers the next day when they were supposed to travel back stateside.
Taking a deep breath, he tossed back the whiskey, closing his eyes and shaking his head while he heard her clapping. “Question!”
he said.
“Answer!” she cheered in response.
“Why did you stop calling me, or taking my phone calls?”
Damn it, that wasn’t supposed to be his question.
Veera made a sickly sweet aww sound. “I’m so sorry if you needed me, but I was on an adventure. I wish you could’ve done this trip with me, but you were
getting married to another woman. And I needed to figure out what to do next. Next? Next is a funny word.”
He didn’t bother commenting on her hiccups. Instead, he tossed back the second shot and let it settle into his bones. His
stomach churned with the mix of food and liquor, but he was feeling so relaxed now. Like he was at zero gravity. “If you aren’t
going to open your own business when you get back, what are you going to do?”
“I can’t tell you,” Veera said in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Why not?”
“Because I really don’t know. I don’t know what I want to do for the rest of my life.”
He didn’t laugh even as she covered her mouth to giggle again. He felt like his reactions were slower; everything was hazy, but even in his current state one thing was still crystal clear: he was part of the reason why she was without a job in the first place. Maybe if he’d advocated for her, fought hard to ensure she had a position at Illyria Media Group before her father could step in, they wouldn’t have this distance between them.
A piercing whistle cut through the air, and Deepak turned to see Sana waving at them frantically to come meet her in front
of the mandap.
Veera scanned the beach, then let out a startling shriek and clapped her hands when she spotted the woman wearing a bright
red sari in the distance. “The bride and groom are here! Let’s go sit with Sana!”
She was out of her chair and kicking off her sandals next to the table. Then she stumbled onto the beach and raced across
the sand. Her arms flailed in a windmill gesture, her braids swinging over her shoulder. “Come on, Deeps! Let’s go watch!”
Deepak grinned, and he knew that he probably shouldn’t be smiling at how happy Veera looked on her way to crash a wedding,
but she was so fucking cute.
He turned to Peter who was already at their table ready to clear their collection of empty glasses. “Peter, can you put all
this on my card? I’m going to a wedding.”
Peter wobbled his head side to side. “Yes, sir.”
“Oh! Tip. Shit, sorry.” Deepak turned to look at Veera who was almost at the mandap, then pulled out his slim billfold. He
removed an American hundred-dollar bill and pressed it to Peter’s chest. “Thank you!”
Then he was off, following Veera across the sand, toward the sunset and the beach mandap where an older couple stood waiting
to step onto the platform. Both Sana and Veera had approached the bride carrying a tiny bouquet of impatiens tied together
in gold string. They spoke with animated gestures.
“You’ll be fine, I promise,” Veera said. “I’m sure they speak English!”
“But it’s more about the rituals that I want to get correct, dear,” the woman replied. She adjusted the pallu of her red sari. “I don’t know what’s expected
of me.”
The groom wore a simple cream kurta and possessed a full head of shocking white hair. He stepped up to his bride’s side and
rested a hand on her shoulder as if agreeing with her concerns.
Veera glanced back at Deepak. “Hey! Come meet Debby and Manfred.”
Deepak tried to think sober thoughts as he walked the rest of the distance to Veera’s side. “Hi,” he said.
Was that his voice? What had happened to his voice? Why did he sound like he was a talk-show host?
“Hello,” Debby said. She eyed him up and down, then blushed as she patted her platinum blond coif, pinned back with flowers
and decorated jeweled tikka that dipped like a teardrop to the center of her forehead. That was when Deepak noticed the massive
diamond glittering on her finger.
Weird , Deepak thought. Did they already have the wedding? He held his hand out to shake, and Manfred was the first one to take it. “Pleasure. Debby and I are from Munich renewing our
vows.”
“Oh! Congratulations on your wedding.” When Manfred pumped his hand with enthusiasm, Deepak almost buckled under the strength
of it.
For a guy who looked to be hitting seventy, Manfred sure as heck had strength.
“We’re sorry for the intrusion,” Deepak said. “Good luck up there!”
“Oh no, you’re not intruding at all,” Debby said. “If we’re being honest with you, we’re nervous. We got married at a church in Goa decades ago, and we always regretted not doing a traditional Hindu wedding, too. That’s why we’re renewing our vows by having a Hindu ceremony. But now I feel out of sorts.”
“We felt out of sorts on our wedding day, too,” Manfred said, pulling his wife close. “But look how that turned out. Happiest
years of my life. We have four daughters and a slew of grandchildren.”
“Aww,” Sana said, pressing her hands to her chest. “You really do look wonderful. Both of you. You’ll be fine . My sister and I have seen a million of these this week and they’re a piece of cake. Just follow the motions, and you can
do it.”
“But you speak the language,” Debby said, motioning with her impatiens.
“Not Sanskrit,” Veera said. “Or Konkani.”
“Not a word,” Deepak added, then leaned against Veera’s side before he toppled over. Her body felt warm and soft against his.
Tingly.
“It’s really simple to follow along,” he continued. “Throw the rice, throw the water, get tied together by a scarf, walk around
the fire seven times, repeat words the way they sound to you to the priest, mangalam, et cetera, et cetera, and you’re Hindu
married. You’ll have quite a few cultural variations, and the order of things will be different, but that’s the basic gist.”
“Oh, you two are married!” Manfred said motioning to both Deepak and Veera.
Sana burst out laughing. The sound was more like a cackle on the wind.
Veera kept shaking her head, so Deepak pressed his hands on the sides of it to get her to stop, before turning back to Manfred
and Debby.
“All three of us have been to enough weddings to know the rules,” he said.
“We could explain a wedding in our sleep,” Veera added. Her words were starting to slur.
“I wish we’d seen one before we do it ourselves,” Debby said.
“Want us to show you?” Sana asked, her glassy eyes widened as she pointed to the mandap. “We can get up there and do a quick
trial run for you to walk you through it.”
This time it was Veera who laughed, but the sound coming from her throat was warm and sweet. Deepak smiled and looked down
at her just as Debby responded.
“Oh, my goodness, would you? Just like our warm-up round. We have the mandap for three hours, but we were told we could get
a shorter version for thirty minutes if we wanted.”
“Get the shorter version,” Deepak, Sana, and Veera said in unison.
Debby’s smile brightened even more. “That’s perfect then!” She shoved her bouquet at Sana. “We’ll do a short warm-up with
two of you, then you can watch Manfred and I renew our vows. After that, we’d like to treat you all to dinner to celebrate.”
“Oh, not me,” Sana said, as she held her hands palms up, swaying left and right, as if she were in a game of dodgeball and
the flowers were the ball. “If I were part of your warm-up ceremony, I would either have to fake marry my sister, or fake
marry a man, and I prefer women.” She pointed to Veera. “But my twin here would be more than happy to help you.”
Deepak watched as Veera’s eyes went wide. Then he realized exactly what was happening. The alcohol turned in his stomach.
Veera protested first. “I don’t think—”
“Sana, don’t even—”
“Please?” Debby asked, as she pressed the flowers against Veera’s chest before she could dodge the bouquet, too. “I’m really
nervous.” The bride-to-be batted her lashes.
Deepak saw Veera’s expression soften. “I want to help, but Sana is the one who—”
“What’s the big deal?” Sana said, as her words slurred at the edges. “We’re doing this for a good cause.” She grabbed Deepak’s
arm in a viselike grip before she nudged him and her sister toward the mandap. “Debby needs us, guys!”
“We need you!” Debby called out.
“It won’t be fake because this is a real mandap,” Veera managed to say. Then she repeated the word mandap , giggled, and lifted the blooms to her face so she could smell them. Her eyes closed, and her shoulders lifted and fell with
pleasure.
“Just do it for the couple,” Sana called from the base of the mandap steps. “It’s not like either of you are in a relationship.”
She chortled at her own joke.
Deepak stopped to give her the middle finger when he caught the pandit’s eye. He immediately tucked his hands behind his back.
“This mandap is so pretty,” Veera said with a soft sigh. She looked up at Deepak, her eyes bright and beautiful. “I mean,
it can’t hurt, right? I’d hate for Debby and Manfred to be nervous during their vow renewal.”
“Veera,” he said, and for some reason her name felt thick on his tongue. “We can’t do this, and you know it.”
It would be too real.
“I know you’d never want to marry me,” she said. “I understand.”
“What? That’s not true—”
She looked up at him with a drunken smile. They were so close, standing side by side. “You know what? I think we should do it. It’s just to make them feel more comfortable. If I can’t have a happily ever after myself, the least I can do is help others get their happiness.”
The nausea grew stronger. Did she really believe that she wasn’t going to get a happily ever after? He wished he could tell
her right there in front of everyone that he would do everything he could to help her achieve all her hopes and dreams.
“Vee, wait—”
“Excuse me, Pandit-ji?” Veera said, tapping the shoulder of the older man who was eating shards of fresh coconut and golden
raisins from a small plastic baggie. Veera pointed to Deepak and then herself. “We need to show the bride and groom what the
ceremony looks like.”
Veera then pointed to Debby and Manfred who were sitting on the sand now in front of the mandap as if they were getting ready
to watch a show. Sana sat behind them, whispering in their ear. She held up two thumbs.
“You married?” the pandit asked.
“Fake married,” Veera replied.
“ Fake married?” The pandit’s accent hardened the sound of “fake” so that it echoed like a drumbeat in Deepak’s head.
“Never mind, Pandit-ji, we’ll just go.” Deepak touched Veera’s arm, but she pulled away.
“Please?” she asked. Then she turned to Deepak. “Give me your wallet.”
“What? Why?”
She didn’t bother asking again and instead reached in his back pocket to remove the billfold. Before he could stop her, his
limbs too sluggish to do much more than register her hand on his ass, she’d removed his last hundred-dollar bill and handed
it to the priest.
“Fake marriage, please.”
The priest looked at the bill, then at Veera’s face. “Konkani?”
“Ah, Punjabi if you know it.”
He pinched the plastic baggie of coconut and raisins closed and dropped it into a small box he’d tucked in the back of the
mandap. He motioned to his assistant who quickly plucked the bill out of Veera’s hand.
“We do two marriages now,” he said. “This one a Punjabi wedding. Sit.”
“This Punjabi wedding has to be fake,” Deepak corrected; his words felt thick in his mouth. “We’re just showing Debby and
Manfred how it’s done. We’re the warm-up .”
“Sit,” the priest said again, his voice so cutting that Veera and Deepak had no choice but to collapse in the seats facing
the small pyre. The priest’s assistant draped a red cloth over Veera’s head, and handed Deepak a string of beads that he was
to keep with him until he had to tie it around Veera’s neck.
This feels wrong , Deepak thought. And yet at the same time, when he turned to see Veera at his side, looking back at him with flushed cheeks,
he felt happier than he had in a long time.
They were on tiny stools sitting on a raised platform in front of a sparkling aquamarine ocean and orange sky. Their clothes
were inappropriate, and their parents weren’t there, but they were together. At all the parties they had attended for business,
at the wedding festivities for their friends, and even when they were out to dinner on their own, Deepak had always felt excited
to just be with her.
The alcohol continued to set in, and Veera seemed to quiet down. Her giggles subsided and her expression became solemn as
the pandit began reciting mantra after mantra.
The Jaimala ritual was next, and they took turns draping garlands around each other’s necks. Veera giggled when Deepak sniffed the flowers, and he delighted in the sound.
Then the marriage pyre was lit, and the pandit’s chants grew louder. Sana’s cheers faded into background noise, along with
the soft hum of conversation from the real bride and groom.
Deepak and Veera were then given fistfuls of uncooked rice to throw into the fire. The kernels stuck to his damp palm, but
he did what he was told.
The pandit stood in his line of sight. “Repeat after me.”
Deepak nodded, and swallowed the lump in his throat. He recited the words that he was told to recite, then Debby was asked
to help tie a piece of cloth that draped over his shoulders and Veera’s head.
When they stood for the seven circles around the fire, Deepak knew in the back of his whiskey-addled brain that this was real.
This was all real and there was no coming back from it. But Veera wasn’t looking at him anymore. She kept her eyes fixed on
the fire, or on their audience as Sana explained what the priest was doing as if this was still a fake wedding. She was smiling
at Debby and giving her a thumbs-up.
“The first phera!” the pandit shouted, and then pointed for Deepak to lead Veera in the circle around the fire. He chanted
the words symbolizing their unity.
I promise to always make you happy and take care of you.
They finished the round, and then the priest shouted, “The second phera!”
Deepak could feel sweat trickle down the back of his neck, the whiskey sour in his stomach, gurgling as his knees shook, and he began the slow journey around the pyre with Veera at his back. He could feel her trembling, standing so close to him. The vibrations were subtle through the cloth that tied them both together.
We will seek our strength and courage from God and stand by each other’s side. We’ll support each other forever and always.
“Third phera!” the priest said, and Sana, Debby, and Manfred cheered.
They took the steps together, and Deepak felt his resolve harden.
“Fourth phera!”
“Fifth phera!”
Thank you, dear wife, for being my best friend.
The translation of the mantra shared by the pandit had Veera stumbling at his back, but Deepak reached an arm around and held
his hand out for her. Her palm was damp, too, but she linked hands with his.
“Sixth phera!”
You fill my heart with so much happiness.
“Seventh phera!”
We belong to each other, forever and always.
Then it was over, and they were told to resume their seats. Deepak’s head was swimming, and now he couldn’t look in Veera’s
direction. Even when he was told to tie the mangalsutra around her neck, a symbol of their union, he avoided touching her
any more than he had to.
The minute the clasp on the mangalsutra closed, the pandit let out a surprising yelp.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife!” he said.
Sana, Manfred, and Debby cheered from their spots on the sand.
“Kiss the bride!” Manfred called out, his thick German accent as clear as the stars in the darkening sky.
“No!” the pandit said, his voice sharp. “We don’t do that here. You may shake her hand.”
Deepak automatically extended his hand to Veera and shook before she burst out laughing like they’d just done the most hilarious
prank in history.
This is what it would be like if they actually got married in real life, he thought. They would laugh and cheer and celebrate
because he would be so damn happy to call her his bride.
This is what it would be like if he hadn’t fucked up their lives so royally when he got engaged to someone else.
When he didn’t fight for her to stay, to work by his side as his equal in the company that should’ve belonged to both of them.
When he didn’t wait for eight fucking months to see her again.
“That’s how you get married in a Hindu ceremony!” Veera said, breaking his trance. She tugged off the cloth from her head
and quickly untied the knot that connected her to Deepak.
He sat there stunned, his head filled with an alcoholic daze as it dawned on him that he had actually gotten married. This
was it. This was the real deal. In front of God, and family.
Well, sort of family, because he was sure Sana still wanted to murder him.
But his bride. Damn, how had it taken eight long months to realize that he’d asked the wrong woman to marry him? That the
uncomfortable ache in his chest whenever he thought about Veera was because he wanted to be with her? That he genuinely found her funny, and brilliant and beautiful?
Getting married instead of asking her for a date was probably the wrong way to approach this, especially with the history
between them, but he didn’t regret this for a moment, as complicated as it made their relationship.
In Deepak’s heart, Veera was now officially his wife.
“Are you guys ready?” Sana said, an arm draped over the bride and groom each.
“Yes!” Debby said. She looked glowing. Happy. “Will you three watch and help us?”
This time Deepak found himself responding. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s get you married, too!”
There were more cheers as the pandit and his assistant reset the mandap, doused the fire, and built a second one for Manfred
and Debby’s ceremony. Then Deepak was sitting in the sand with his bride while Peter brought them drinks from the bar.
Deepak’s brain grew fuzzier as he drank and danced with Veera. He and Manfred got the hotel to open the jewelry store so they
could buy Veera a sparkly diamond that made her sigh. Manfred acted as her uncle and put her chuda on her wrists, the set
of red bangles a symbol of her marital status.
Then they danced together some more before Deepak followed Sana and Veera to their suite in the early dawn. He was barely
able to stand, and he squinted through double vision to untie Veera’s braids for her. The last coherent memory he had was
of pouring water down her throat along with four aspirin before curling up on the soft mattress behind her. There was no point
in going back to his own room when this was exactly where he knew he belonged.