CHAPTER 24 Kavita
Kavita
The fashion show is today. I’m running late and decide to wear a sari on top of that.
As I make my way to the park, where the entire street is lined with paper streamers leading up to the venue, my heart is racing. I’m nervous and excited about the fashion show.
It’s been weeks of hard work, but having my friends and Neel help me has been invaluable. I don’t know what I’d do without them.
The hem of my sari almost trips me, and I regret listening to Mom about wearing it today. She said it would be perfect for attracting eligible bachelors, but my eyes are on the lookout for just one man.
The man I can’t see right now.
The park is lit up. There’s music playing in the background, and it’s teeming with people. The aroma of street food tickles my nostrils as I quickly make my way down the narrow lane leading to the backstage area where my models are waiting.
I enter the tent, where all the women are chatting and laughing. They’re dressed in the beautiful saris and dresses I’ve designed, with makeup on. It’s a sight to behold.
My hands flutter to my mouth when I see them all. They look so stunning that my eyes tear up.
“That’s why we wanted you to come when we were ready,” Kiara laughs as I hug her.
“This is the best sight of my life,” I say, shedding tears.
Khushi comes and hugs me. “Why are you crying?”
I wipe my tears and smile. “Because I’m so happy to see all you dazzling women up here.”
“This is all your creation! That’s why we all look so beautiful,” Grandma says, cradling my face and wiping my tears. “Now, you’re ruining all your makeup.”
I laugh and dab at my tears. “You’re right!”
Neel suddenly appears at our tent.
“Neel,” I say, surprised to see him.
“I have a surprise for the fashion show,” he says, keeping it brief.
“What is it?”
“We’ve got a special guest who’s going to donate one of her saris for the auction.”
“Really?”
“Yes, just hold on at the end, and I’ll bring her to the back so she can bring the show to a finale before we start the auction.”
I’m excited to see our special guest, and I have butterflies in my stomach about meeting Neel’s mother later. Is he going to introduce me as his girlfriend? Will she think I’m suitable for him?
“Where’s my lipstick?” someone asks, and my attention is once again diverted to the women packed in the backstage tent. I press a hand to my stomach to calm my jitters.
I want these women to feel special. I want us all to have a great show.
Rimli Aunty pouts in front of the mirror. “How long do I have to sit like this before I can eat something?”
I giggle. “You can eat if you like, and we’ll just touch up the lipstick again.”
“I can’t walk on a full stomach,” Kajal Aunty complains. “I’m going to wait until our part is done.”
I’m just about to check on the food when a woman wheels in on a wheelchair. She looks familiar, but I’ve never seen her before. She stops at the door, shocked to see the crowd in the tent.
Everybody is in various stages of dress-up. Some are adjusting their saris, others are putting on lipstick, and so on.
The older woman looks flustered. “Isn’t this where the bathroom is?”
I extend my hand to help her. “I could take you if you’d like to use the bathroom, ma’am.”
“I’ll find my way.” She shakes her head and looks at the women in the room. “Putting on a show today?”
“Yes,” I reply. “We’re doing the fashion show at the event.”
“And I assume you are in charge.” She looks at me as she quirks her lip in awe. “Well done!”
“She knows the host of the event,” Rimli Aunty says from the back.
The woman’s eyebrows quirk up. “Oh, you do?”
“He’s a lovely man,” Kajal Aunty pipes up.
“He’s a little older than Kavita,” says Rimli Aunty.
“He doesn’t look all that older. But, he’s sweet,” Grandma argues.
“Ladies, please stop!” I raise my hand before this situation gets out of hand. I’m so embarrassed right now I don’t even know what to say.
But the woman in the wheelchair simply says, “That’s right. I’ve seen him. He looks sweet.”
They start again, talking over each other.
“Oh yes, he is!” one of them says.
“I mean, did you see him and Kavita holding hands earlier?” The other presses her hand to her chest. “And I just went, awww!”
I let out a long sigh. “Ladies, please. Let’s just allow our guest to find the restroom.” Then, I apologize profusely because I don’t know what else to do.
The woman laughs. “Don’t worry. I can find my way to the restroom.”
After she wheels out, I scold them for talking too much, to which they only smile because they know they’re big bullies and aren’t scared to talk like this to someone like me.
Elena and the other brides-to-be look glamorous in their modern gowns and dresses. Grandma is wearing a vintage-inspired sari dress, while Kajal Aunty and Rimli Aunty are dressed in outfits reminiscent of different Bollywood eras.
Kiara looks splendid in a rich burgundy chiffon sari, and Khushi is wearing a beautiful traditional-inspired outfit.
Before long, we’re ushered onto the stage. The women have rehearsed it a few times, but I can see they’re nervous. This is their first-ever stage performance, and their jitters are valid.
As they go up, one of them grabs my hand and whispers, “I’m really nervous. Can you help me get up there?”
I hold her hand and I’m talking to her as we get up on the stage, and then something makes me pick up the mic and say a few words.
I don’t have a speech prepared because I never thought I’d do this, but the moment I pick up the mic, I see a few of the women smile, relieved. This is going to give them the boost they need.
I start with the introductions and tell the crowd that this is our first fashion show.
I give a little speech about how I’ve grown up around three of these women and how much I love them for being brave enough to stand up on the stage.
I talk about the park, thanking the event sponsors for organizing this fundraiser to save our beloved green space.
With a final word of encouragement to my models, I make my way off the stage.
The show gets off to a good start as the women step onto the main stage area, walking in from the sides. The music starts, and the women walk down the ramp as rehearsed. My parents are seated in the front row. My mom waves at me wildly, her smile reaching all the way to her ears.
We have a few minor mishaps—Rimli Aunty trips on her sari again.
Grandma’s feather boa flies off the stage, and one of the younger brides almost falls off the stage as she takes to the side.
But all is well because they get back in with the music and make each disaster look like it was part of the show.
The crowd claps even louder at the bloopers.
Next, it’s time for our special guest.
As the women line up on the stage to receive her, she walks in. My jaw drops as I recognize her.
Padmini, a yesteryear actress known for her exceptional dancing skills in older Bollywood movies, walks up onto the stage holding one of her memorable saris from one of her acclaimed movies—a vibrant silk sari with intricate zari work.
The crowd erupts into cheers on seeing her. She slowly walks down the ramp, flanked by all the women around her, and gives a brief speech about how she has known Neel since he was a little boy and is here only because of him.
Neel comes over as everybody gets off the stage. He looks proud.
“You were wonderful,” he tells each one of them.
They glow in his praise and then change and pack to go have their well-deserved meal.
Neel puts an arm around my waist. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
I lick my lips nervously as he rounds the corner, and then my jaw drops as he stops in front of the woman in a wheelchair who we’d met earlier.
“Ma, this is Kavita,” Neel says, his voice filled with a mix of pride and nervousness. Then, turning to me with a soft smile, he adds, “Kavita, meet my mother.”
The world seems to freeze for a moment as I look between Neel and his mother.