One day, my father came back from his shop alongwith another person. His ruddy cheeks pink with excitement, he exclaimed, “Diya…I am so happy for you. Meet Aahilbhai. He brings the happiest news. But wait…please get us water…pronto.”
Hearing the commotion outside, my mother looked at me questioningly. I shrugged. While I filled the glasses, my mother went out, taking care to well cover her face with her pallu in front of the stranger. That’s my father’s conditioning I thought, disgusted. I was proud to have mastered physiotherapy and had scant respect for these practices. But what to do?
When I entered the living room, my father declared boisterously, “Ahilbhai says that a boy saw our Diya, near the clinic. And since his family knew Ahilbhai, they asked him to approach me. It seems the boy liked you enough to make enquiries around. The boy’s name is Sameer…he wants to marry you. They have invited us to their home for further discussions day after tomorrow. Isn’t that fantabulous?”. My father was bursting with enthusiasm. “But father, I have just started my career. I have dreams to fulfil…”. But father interrupted me, “Bah…what career? Aahilbhai tells me, the family is into import-export and worth crores! And dreams can be taken care by them. Don’t worry. Do as I say, marry this Sameer and forget your career.” That day I hated my father the most, but I am an obedient daughter…just like his obedient wife.
The marriage was a fantastic affair. Sameer…well, he was no Adonis, but he looked quite presentable in the resplendent Sherwani. His family made sure to make me feel at home in their well-kept bungalow. It was a joint family consisting of Amerbhai, the head of the family, his wife, Johra, his elder son and his wife and Sameer, my husband. The brother of my MIL, also lived with them alongwith his own two wives and their children.
Though the house was quite crowded in the late evening and morning hours, once they left for work or school, I had the house to myself. A tinge guilty for judging my father’s choice negatively, I was beginning to enjoy the laid-back atmosphere of my new home.
One evening, Sameer was massaging his leg vigorously, when we were in our bedroom. As I sat near him, I noticed depression marks on his thigh. I started rubbing his leg tenderly and asked, “What happened to your thigh, haan ji? Had you kept some heavy stick on it for a long time? See how…”. Getting totally flustered, Sameer almost kicked me and got up. “Keep the dinner ready in few minutes, okay? I want to sleep early today.”
That night everyone had dinner quietly and retired to their respective bedrooms.
“I need to leave early tomorrow Diya. Wake me up at 5.30 am. okay?” and so saying Sameer went off to sleep.
The next day, I woke him up early. Wasn’t I surprised to see the entire household awake at that early hour! And just like that, everyone was ready at the breakfast table including the children. And no one was telling me anything. Again, I was left alone at home. An empty mind is the devil’s advocate. Why is everyone leaving together? Why are they being so secretive? Even Sameer? Why is he so dependent on the family? And… why am I being kept away?
I had to plan a taxi most surreptitiously to avoid any suspicion. The morning breakfast went smoothly. The demure DIL, that is me, attended to everyone. As everyone rushed towards the big family SUV’s to go on their way, I waved at them. As soon as the SUV’s were out of sight, a signal was given and a taxi screeched to a halt. In jumped the DIL, shouting “peecha karo”. The taxi zoomed in and out of traffic, keeping at the SUV’s heels, while keeping a safe distance so as not to trigger suspicion.
I was surprised to see the SUV’s rushing behind a warehouse near the mall. From a safe distance I saw the entire family get down and rush into the first open door and disappear. With bated breath I waited for some time and then rushed through the same door.
It was dark inside. As I felt my way along the wall inside, another door creaked open. There I saw them in various stages of undress. As my eyes widened in shock, I saw them all occupy the chairs kept inside.
Soon a team of men approached them. Flabbergasted, I saw this team opening their tool kits and…start applying makeup to the family’s faces. My FIL was the first to finish, but… a very old, bent man emerged from the cocoon of men surrounding him. As he grabbed a stick to barely stand, my MIL was nowhere to be seen. In her place stood a gaunt, crooked woman, her cheekbones protruding grotesquely. While the other family members appeared leprosy stricken, I almost puked when I saw Sameer disappear and a cripple occupying a push board. Overcome by dizziness, I almost fell but willed myself to see this through. I hoped against hope, that my family was a family of film stars. That would explain the riches, so I followed them further, always taking care, to stay in the shadows. What followed was startling to say the least.
As I followed Sameer, I saw him put on a most pitiful face and ask for alms from the people frequenting the mall! Beggar!! The family I had married into, was nothing but a family of beggars. Over the next few days, I came to realize many things to explain their riches.
I am back home now, yes…my father’s house. I have restarted my physiotherapy practice again. And no…my father no longer behaves as if he owns us. My old man learned it the hard way, a parent may always have the good of his progeny at heart…. but he may not always be right.
