Chapter 19 Aaditha - Done Here!
Aaditha
Done Here!
I told Appa I wanted out of the engagement, making my intentions clear, maybe even before Vedveer’s jet hit Bengaluru’s runway.
I stopped wearing the ring after that. No one noticed.
But I didn’t follow through with my parents, not in the way they would’ve expected.
I didn’t storm into rooms, issue ultimatums or draw dramatic lines in the sand.
In a family like mine, where we wait for storms to pass rather than confront them, it would’ve taken exactly that kind of force for anyone to believe I truly meant it.
From what I can tell, Vedveer hasn’t moved either. Not really.
If he’d followed through on that cutting ‘we are done here’, I’d have felt the aftershocks. I’d have known.
A month later, I decide to act on it. I start with a call to Alia.
I’m not telling her about how the prince came calling; I’m not ready to go there yet. Weeks have gone by, and it still feels raw.
‘I don’t think this engagement is working for me, Akka,’ I say, two sentences into the conversation.
We are on a video call. She’s doing her make-up, getting ready for work, while I’m lounging in my bed at the end of a workday.
‘What do you mean, not working?’ she asks, her mascara smudging her eyes.
I shrug. ‘We are not really in touch, haven’t been in a while… That’s not exactly newly engaged couple vibes, right?’
‘What is a while?’
‘A month.’
‘So message. Ask him what’s up.’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t want to ask. I mean, why should I be the one who asks?’
‘Because it takes two to clap,’ she says, dropping her make-up brush and bringing her hands together in a clap.
‘A relationship should be effortless.’
‘Aadi,’ Alia says, using one of the newer nicknames she has for me, the most obvious one I would think, ‘an arranged marriage doesn’t work like that. You need to make an effort. Both parties should.’
I want to say, And where did that get you? but that would be cruel.
‘Anyway,’ I say, exhaling, ‘I’m going to tell Appa and Amma that I want out. I told Appa once already…’
‘And?’
‘You know how Appa is. He wasn’t honest with me about stuff in the beginning; you know that.’
‘Hmm… Those things don’t mean anything. It’s Appa. It’s not a deal breaker,’ Alia says.
Not for you.
‘When do you plan to tell them?’
‘Tonight. Appa is already home.’
I slip the ring on my ring finger before I walk into my parents’ bedroom.
They’ve just finished dinner and are getting ready to retire for the night.
I make a show of relieving myself of the sizable emerald and give it to Amma, who starts turning it over, examining it like I may have lost a part of it.
‘Edu chennagide…’ It’s fine, she says, wearing a perplexed expression.
Appa is rarely rattled, but this time, he is genuinely nonplussed.
He chalked up our last conversation about the engagement to a mood, something he believed would blow over. He clearly hasn’t mentioned it to Amma. Even Alia didn’t know.
‘This engagement is over,’ I say.
‘Why? What happened suddenly?’ Amma asks.
‘I’m not comfortable in this relationship; this is not something I want for myself.’
‘You can’t just break off an engagement without giving us a good reason,’ Amma says, her eyes sparking fire. ‘What is uncomfortable about it?’
The last time I had seen Amma this angry was when I got 18 out of 100 for algebra in fourth grade.
Appa rescued me then.
‘Yes,’ Appa asks, sitting down on a single-seater sofa. ‘What exactly do you mean by “not comfortable”?’
This is when I should tell them about Vedveer’s visit, that he’s the one who called off the engagement, but I don’t say it.
He wants to apologize. He sent a couple of texts saying so.
I can’t tell them half the story, and if I admit he wants to apologize, they’ll be jumping through hoops for the prince all over again, with Alia cheering them on!
‘You haven’t been entirely honest with me about this proposal,’ I say, looking at Appa, who is leaning back, arms folded across his chest in a stubborn posture.
‘Is that what’s making you uncomfortable?’ Appa asks.
Amma glares at me while refusing to ask her husband what this is all about.
‘Did I deceive you?’ Appa asks.
Just like that, Appa turns the tables on me, playing the emotional card.
‘I wouldn’t do anything that isn’t good for this family, you know that, right?’ Appa says.
Amma nods.
He wouldn’t jeopardize our lives knowingly. He is a good father and husband, not the most sensitive, but a decent man all the same.
‘Has Vedveer hurt you? Harmed you in any way?’ he asks, leaning forward in his seat.
I shake my head. ‘He’s not that important,’ I say, settling myself on a stool.
‘Then why?’
‘Look at Akka’s marriage; you found that boy,’ I say. I hate doing this to Appa, but I need to make my point. ‘Why are we going down this road again?’
‘How do you plan to get married then?’ Amma asks, before Appa shushes her with a look.
‘I didn’t pick the right boy for Alia. I am to blame, but your sister was of marriageable age and wasn’t dating anyone.
I did the best I could; I did all the background checks,’ he says, holding my gaze.
‘The same with you. If you were dating someone, I wouldn’t have interfered.
But you are of marriageable age, you have a great career, you are ready to move out of our home. ’
‘Ready to move out of home doesn’t mean I’m ready to get married. Come on!’
‘We are never ready to be married off, but when you reach a certain age, and if you are still single and a good proposal comes our way, I would be failing in my duty as a parent if I turned it away.’
I run my fingers through my hair and shake my head.
‘This is a good proposal,’ he says, adding that he wouldn’t have considered any royalty for his daughter, let alone a north Indian one, people who are so different from us culturally, had he not been convinced of the kind of people the Rathores are.
‘Look at the way they treat their staff; it is one of the first things I noticed when I visited the maharaj in Delhi. Most of them have been with him since he was a young boy. He knows them all by name, each and every one of them.’
‘That’s his father,’ I say. My shoulders go up in a shrug.
‘See how careful Vedveer is about you, especially where the tabloids are concerned,’ he says, his eyes lighting up. ‘He planned a small engagement and got the interview done even before I raised the safety issue. It was a security breach at that club, and he saw it and took action.’
‘Anybody would do that,’ I say. I’m flying a kite, and Appa’s face colours.
‘Don’t tell me you don’t love him, Chinna,’ he says, pushing himself to his feet now. ‘I have seen the way he looks at you and you at him. At Ranibagh, during Holi… you both are not just any two people. You’re a couple.’
I exhale, relieved that Appa stops where he does in his description of Vedveer and me as a couple.