5. Aarti
AARTI
I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when my relationship with Sameer had taken shape.
My dad and Sameer’s uncle were old friends, and when Sameer migrated to the U.S.
about thirteen years ago, we started out as friends.
As we grew into mature adulthood, everyone around me suddenly began suggesting, in obvious and implicit ways, that we would make a beautiful couple.
I’d harbored a mild crush on Sameer, but he had never shown any interest in me, or any other woman, for as long as I had known him.
It wasn’t difficult to be smitten with him.
With chiseled features, a sculpted body, and perfect etiquette, he was the definition of charming.
When he spoke to you, the world ceased to exist. He had that knack of making people feel special and appreciated.
I had seen him flirt quite effectively on occasion.
But he had his mind set on getting his degree and learning the business from his uncle.
He had no space for anything or anyone outside it.
Then, one day, he let his mask slip for a minute, and I found myself falling for him.
Our group of friends had returned home from college and sat around with bottles of beer, sharing tales of our wild experiences.
Sameer, the life of any party, was unusually quiet until one friend joked that he seemed hung up on someone.
I’d watched his face change instantly, but he’d recovered fast and spun rakish tales from his college days in India.
It had sounded fictitious because it was completely antithetical to his personality since the time I had known him.
“What changed, dude?” the friend had asked.
He’d shrugged and replied, “Shit got real, and I had to sober up.”
It was at that moment, when I’d spotted a look of sincerity and uncharacteristic humility on his face that I had possibly begun falling for him.
He was no longer the casual friend I’d had a mild crush on.
I had found myself wanting more of him. For years, my subtle hints had gotten no reaction from him until our parents stepped in.
“We are not going to force you into a marriage,” my wise mother had said, “but he seems like a person who’d make a great life partner for you.”
I had grabbed the opportunity with both hands, but Sameer took months to ask me out on a formal date. It was as if his heart had never been in it from the start.
The next summer, Tara had come to Dallas as a consultant at the art museum and my world turned upside down.
The first time I’d seen her and the way Sameer had looked at her, I had suspected there was more to their friendship than he was letting on.
But he had remained adamant in insisting that she was his cousin’s best friend, and that was the extent of their relationship.
I’d been a fool in love with him, and bought every lie he pushed my way.
Then, I found the opportunity I had been waiting for.
It was my parents’ wedding anniversary, and I had arranged for a grand party to celebrate them.
A few nights before the event, Sameer’s father had come over with a suggestion that I should surprise Sameer with a proposal at the party.
I’d assumed we would get engaged sooner or later.
Our parents had wanted an extravagant celebration and were hounding us to come up with a date, but Sameer had been dragging his feet for months.
So, when his father granted me this golden chance, I had no reason to hesitate.
A little voice, though, had warned me. I had called Sameer’s father twice that week to ask if Sameer would find this transgressive of his trust in me.
He had reassured me that Sameer was in love and would be thrilled.
I tamped down the doubt raising its venomous head and revamped the event to accommodate my proposal to Sameer.
My family was thrilled. My father had decided to offer Sameer a partnership in our company.
With his investment firm and our real estate company, they began dreaming of establishing a formidable financial dynasty of sorts.
That evening, I’d been dressed in a specially commissioned designer gown from India, with exclusive jewelry that had existed only on fashion show ramps.
A special kind of Kundan setting that had yet to make its way into mass production.
I had ordered and reordered sherwani sets for Sameer until I’d found the one I liked, one that matched my gown. I had wanted everything to be perfect.
It had been the most beautiful night. Almost every influential member of the South Asian community was present at the party.
Every important member of the city was there, including the mayor.
I was swimming in love and adoration from my family and friends.
It had promised to be one of the happiest nights of my life.
As the choreographed dance sequence with my family came to an end, I stood on the stage with Sameer. The crowd drowned us in claps and cheers. The flashes from cameras blinded me, but I found comfort in the presence of the man standing beside me.
Dad quietened the cheers with a mic in his hands, then announced to the world his plans to make Sameer a partner in his company. With bated breath, I watched all this unfold, as I had meticulously planned. I waited for Dad’s cue.
The moment Dad announced, “All I want in return is that you keep our Aarti very happy,” the spotlight had shifted from him to Sameer and me. Promptly dropping down to my knee, I’d said with a barely steady breath, “My dearest Sameer, will you marry me?”
Petals of roses rained down on us. Candid photos populated every camera present there. My grin spread from ear to ear as I gripped Sameer’s ice-cold hand and stepped down from the stage with him like a royal couple. We were engaged to be married amid a heavily public display of love and wealth.
My happiness lasted a week. Turned out he’d been planning to break up with me the next day. He had realized he would always be in love with Tara, but he didn’t want to ruin the evening for me. If he had, it would have left me broken-hearted and humiliated at the party.
He never got a chance to tell me any of this, because the night of our engagement, he left for India.
It was much later that I learned the whole story.
Sameer had been away to take care of a clandestine family affair.
He hadn’t trusted me with any of this. He had kept his family’s secrets guarded and out of my reach.
A fool in love that I’d been, I had missed him while he was gone and decided to drop by unannounced the day after his return. I’d still not figured out if it was a good decision or a bad one. Would it have caused me less heartache if I’d allowed Sameer to come clean like he had planned?
That evening, when I arrived at his condo, I found him sharing a candlelight dinner with Tara.
I was so furious I blasted them with the choicest vocabulary I could muster in my rage.
In a moment so vulnerable that I’d repent it for days to come, I had allowed them both to witness my tears.
In all the long years he’d known me, Sameer had never seen me cry.
None of my friends had. But that evening, I let my weakness show. I let myself grieve.
My anger had kept climbing as Tara and Sameer explained the intensity of their affection for each other.
I had wanted to hate Tara, to be angry at Sameer, but all I had found myself doing was getting angrier at myself.
Angry that I had been played for a fool, angry that I hadn’t seen it coming.
Angry that both Sameer and his father had made me a pawn in their acrimonious relationship.
I was angry that Tara wasn’t the unkind, unrepentant, evil bitch I could hate with impunity.
But all this anger was my burden to carry, my cross to bear.
When I’d left his home that evening, I’d determined to never let my weaknesses sneak out again.
The breakup wasn’t an ordinary one. That fucked up party had been one of the biggest events that season.
People had left with memorabilia and favors commemorating the evening.
The names Sameer and Aarti were etched on people’s minds, flowing effortlessly off their tongues.
How did one deal with a breakup of that magnitude?
The gossip and the rumors erupted immediately and mushroomed fast. Even though it was Sameer who had an affair, people alleged that he had broken it off because I was in love with my younger brother’s best friend.
Aakash’s best friend had always been like a brother to me, but it didn’t matter to the gossip machine.
There was also the rumor that Sameer had moved on because he’d realized I was an evil, manipulative shrew.
He’d be better off without me, the machine proclaimed.
The more sympathetic ones claimed we’d caught the evil eye because we were perfect together. Too perfect for it to be realized.
I’d always hated that word, perfect . That’s how everyone described me, everyone who hadn’t known me before I became perfect.
It was only Mary Beth, my closest friend since grade school, who saw the perfect me when I was gloriously imperfect.
The rest of the world saw my tall body, my curves, slim waist, full lips, big eyes, and slender fingers and called me perfect.
I hated it because once I was labeled as perfect, I found myself striving harder to be so.
I was a successful businesswoman, yet I couldn’t let the woman part of me come out and play.
The men, my father, and brother, could harness the so-called masculine values of assertiveness and aggression with little backlash.
I had to keep myself aloof enough to be taken seriously, yet I couldn’t display my anger or displeasure without being called hormonal or hysterical.
That was the reason Sujit surprised me. He was not only kind to me when I was in tears but didn’t let my vulnerable condition undermine my capability as a professional.
He was the kind of friend I really needed right now. Maybe we could be…friends.
My thoughts drifted to Sujit. It was a cruel thing to happen to a beautiful human being who believed in the goodness of people. I was stronger and more practical. I knew better than to believe in such myths as people’s goodness. And yet, our situations were quite similar.
Sujit had also had a tough breakup, albeit much less public than mine.
But confronting a faceless crowd and drowning out the phantom of public opinion was easier than facing loved ones who are aware of your broken heart, day after day.
I knew this firsthand. I wondered how Sujit handled being left sad and distraught before his family.
He must have felt rather comfortable and confident in the relationship to involve his parents at a surprise party for Tara.
As comfortable and confident as I had felt in my relationship, I thought, and broke into a hysterical laughter.