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‘Purva Bhaiyya’s favourite food?’
‘Chinese?’ I said, doubtfully.
‘That’s your favourite food, you idiot!’ hissed Pitajee in my ear.
Before I could retort suitably to Pitajee who had stooped to a new level of low by calling me names on my engagement day, a round of applause resounded in the room. Purva had nodded his head and I had two correct answers.
It was then that I realised that the game was not as difficult as I had thought it to
be. And boy, was I good! Before I knew it, I had announced, with unwavering confidence, that Vegas was Purva’s dream holiday destination, cricket was his favourite sport and meditation relaxed him.
I had also, surprisingly, given five correct answers.
With great joy, and amidst tremendous cheering, Anju Aunty clasped me tight to her chest. A girl who knew her son so well had to be given her due, after all. I think she got a little carried away and, in the flow of the moment, removed a gold bangle from her wrist and clasped it around mine.
‘Your prize, my darling Koochie,’ Anju Aunty said proudly and proceeded to smack another kiss on my forehead.
‘Koochie!’ I heard Pitajee repeat to Anu, sounding delighted beyond measure. ‘Kasturi’s mom-in-law calls her Koochie.’
My heart sank. I knew, just from the sheer delight in Pitajee’s voice, that I would rarely be called Kas again.
Terrace, Shukla Residence, 11.00 p.m.
Most of the guests had gone. The house looked like it always did after a big party. Dishevelled.
Anju Aunty, Mum and Dad were downstairs, talking in hushed tones, discussing the surprise engagement and the upcoming wedding preparations. Purva and I sat on the terrace on a rotting wooden box that had survived more monsoons than we had thought possible, under the stars that blinked happily. We sat in comfortable silence, my head resting on Purva’s shoulder, letting it all sink in. The white crescent of the moon bathed us in its pristine white. Anu and Pitajee sat on the floor of the terrace, holding hands.
‘We’re engaged,’ Purva said, smiling down at me.
‘I know,’ I said, twiddling the expensive solitaire that glittered joyfully on my finger. ‘Is this Anju Aunty’s choice?’
‘No, mine,’ said Purva, moving his head closer to mine. ‘Only I didn’t know that I was going to put it on your finger today.’
I stared at the iridescent rock, transfixed by how much the mute stone signified.
‘Let me show you something, Kas,’ said Purva, gently tugging the ring out of my hand. I marvelled, yet again, at how gentle his touch always was. He pointed to the inside of the thick band and handed it back to me.
‘Your smile fills my heart with joy,’ the cursive hand of the inscription read.
‘My smile fills your heart with joy?’ I asked, tilting my face to one side and smiling my widest.
‘Yes,’ he said, lightly tapping one cheek. ‘Especially when you smile this smile.’
Pitajee and Anu, who were sitting further away, now turned to look at us.
‘Guys, shouldn’t we get going?’ said Anu.
‘Yes,’ said Purva, nodding his head.
There was one more thing that I needed to speak to Purva about and I put a hand on his arm to draw his attention.
‘Yes?’ said Purva.
‘Who is your favourite actress?’ I asked, pouting.
Purva laughed for a good minute before he placed a finger under my chin and pulled up my face. ‘I love you so much Kasturi!’ he said, his eyes dripping with unadulterated adoration.
‘Your favourite actress, Purva?’ I insisted, my voice low and glum.
