A Colorful Life: Drawn in Broken Crayon

by Melissa Storm

  "We're making our way to Agra. That's where the Taj Mahal is. We're travelin' through the day so we can see it at nightfall. That's when it's all lit up like Christmas. Can you believe it? The Taj Mahal! One of the finest wonders of this world."

  Meenu perched silently on the cement wall, watching her daughters shoo away the eavesdropping neighbors. Betrayal snared her thrumming heart. If her son could lie to her about this, of what greater evil was he capable? She'd tried hard to bring him up firmly. Had her efforts been completely wasted? Why did he chase after that nobody American, with so many nice girls from good families right here in Delhi?

  She should have seen this coming. Hadn't she seen a number of movies portraying Western women as cheap and sexually loose? The antics of those shameless Western actors had many times caused Meenu's mehndied toes to curl in disgust.

  Kashi wasn’t content with just a physical relationship; he wanted to make Dolly his wife.

  Why buy the cow?

  Meenu brought a hand to her feverish forehead. This stress had increased her already high blood pressure. But how could she relax? The betrayal was bad; the embarrassment, worse. They’d yelled their private business for all the complex to hear. What would happen to the Malhotras' reputation now?

  Meenu hung her head in exhaustion.

  Her husband came to her side, his sunken eyes glazed over. All their children understood that Rishi's silence was far worse than an outward display of emotion. They had hurt him so deeply, he wasn't capable of reprimand. Instead, a storm raged inside, and they all knew the storm would eventually spread.

  Kashi knelt to touch his parents' feet in supplication. He had feared this reaction; in fact, the fear had led him to this whole façade in the first place. The thought of his mother witnessing their foreplay firsthand sickened him. Rather than avoiding upset, he'd created it.

  He'd envisioned himself introducing Daly as his friend, and then, when the family had grown to love her—which he never doubted they would—he'd sit calmly with everyone and reveal his intention to marry her. More than one Bollywood movie played out this way, and it always seemed to work.

  Well, not this time.

  Mishti returned to the rooftop, having shooed away the last nosy neighbor. "Kashi, I can’t find Dolly. I think she has gone," she reported softly.

  Kashi hung his head and brought a hand to his chest. Why had he not comforted her during Mummy's onslaught? Why had he not noticed her slip away? Choking on this fresh surge of terror, he ran down the stairs and tore through the apartment, calling out, "Daly? Daly, please, where are you?"

  He wanted to run through the streets bellowing for her, but stopped when Papa blocked his way, an impassable wall of rage.

  "We do not approve of this match," Papa said, "but still she is a guest in our home. Come, we will search for her." His face remained an unreadable mask.

  Did this mean they were starting to come around? Maybe they'd be so relieved at finding Daly, they'd give their approval once she was safe and sound.

  With hope swelling in his chest, Kashi squeezed into the old Maruti with Papa. The rest of the family waited at home, in case Daly journeyed back on her own. Even worse than knowing she'd left him was the fear that she may have been harmed. He just needed to know she was safe. They could figure the rest out later.

  Papa drove straight to the police station. "Do you have a snap?" he demanded, holding out his hand.

  Kashi rifled through his wallet for the photo of Daly astride her tortoise stallion—a shot he'd taken on their first date. Before he could touch her likeness, Papa jerked the picture away and hopped out of the car.

  A flurry of emotion swept over Kashi while he waited for Papa to return. He closed his eyes and rocked back and forth, trapped in a whirlwind of fear, hurt, anger, and love—a pain far more real than anything he'd experienced before. Leaving India for America hadn't been anywhere near this bad.

  Maybe they should have eloped before the trip—that would have left his family with no choice. They would have accepted her then, or risked losing him.

  He never imagined love could happen so fast. A woman he hadn't even known a few months ago had proven indispensable to his future happiness.

  What if he couldn’t find her?

  Daly's height and pale complexion rendered her a conspicuous white giantess in this dangerous country.

  What if somebody tried to hurt her? She had no one to turn to out there.

  Kashi tried to push the dark thoughts from his mind. He just had to believe fate would sort things out. In the meantime, he would do his best to find her, bring her home, and convince his parents to accept her.

  Papa returned to the car and slammed the door, shaking the whole vehicle.

  "Papa, what did they say?" Kashi begged. "Will they look for her?"

  No response.

  "Papa, I'm sorry I lied. I wanted you to know her first, to love her, before I told you the truth. I see now it was not the best way. But, I love her and I want to—"

  Papa raised a hand, turning away.

  "Papa, believe me, I meant no harm—"

  "Enough, Akash. It is enough. We will find the girl and put her on a plane back to her home. We don't need to discuss this any further."

  Kashi nodded miserably, his frantic mind still working. When he could bear it no longer, he focused on searching the horizon for Daly's lanky silhouette.

  Together, they roamed the streets of New Delhi well into the next morning, showing her picture to whomever they met and asking to be phoned with any information. Daylight came with still no sign of her, and, reluctantly, the pair gave up their search and returned home.

  Papa blew through the door ahead of Kashi, not answering when his son attempted to apologize.

  Though still fraught with anxiety, Kashi was exhausted. His swirling head and pounding heart eventually slowed enough to allow him to fall into fitful sleep.

  A short while later, Mishti snuck into his room and crawled into bed beside him. "Akash? Akash?"

  His eyes flew open, the image of Daly still imprinted from a recent dream.

  "I'm sorry for what happened. I really like Dolly. Don't worry. We will convince Mummy-Papa for your marriage. And Dolly will be okay. She will find a way to make it through the city safely. Trust me." After a quick hug, Mishti vanished.

  ***

  Kashi rolled out of bed late in the afternoon. A vivid recollection of the previous evening struck him. He was at fault for everything. His stomach felt as if it were wrapped in a tight knot; his heart beat quickly, and his head spun. A deep sense of foreboding crushed him as he shuffled into the main area of the apartment. The waxy smell of ghee and the bitter scents of fenugreek and ajwain filled Kashi's nostrils.

  Mummy called to him from over her smoking fry pan. "Bachcha, good morning. Slept well?" She grinned and deftly jerked a cast iron skillet to flip the methi parantha.

  Kashi said nothing. What had happened to the wailing woman who'd chastised him a few short hours ago?

  "Go brush your teeth, Akash, and take your shower. We have a big day, and it's already half over."

  Kashi remained at the threshold of the kitchen, too confused to follow her instruction.

  Mummy transferred the cooked parantha to the metal warming basket and rolled out another with her wooden pin. "Well?" she asked with a sly smile. "Go, go get ready. We don't have much time."

  He had no idea what his parents had planned, but knew better than to disobey a direct order, especially after last night's debacle. He dawdled through his morning routine, hoping that if he took long enough, he could prevent whatever plans they'd concocted for the day.

  When he emerged, two unknown elders and a twenty-something girl greeted him with namastes. The girl wore an embellished salwar and stared shyly at her painted feet. Disappointment numbed him. Somehow he'd known something like this would happen. Maybe he'd heard something as he tossed and turned through the early morning hours.

  Kashi shot a pleading look
to Mishti, who had just emerged from her bedroom.

  His sister's eyes grew wide—like someone had just slapped her on the back of the head in exchange for her silence.

  Papa rose from the head of the table. "Akash, this is Manoj Uncle and Sadhvi Auntie. They are friends of Bhuji's. This is their daughter, Rani."

  The girl got to her feet, clutching the vibrant shawl draped over her head. Her complexion was wheaten, her nose long and elegant. Her eyes had been painted with kohl and her lips were a deep, almost welcoming brown. Despite her obvious beauty, Kashi had never seen anything quite so disgusting in his entire life.

  Oh, no, not this. Not when his heart so frantically sought Daly. What could he do to win his parents' consent? A hasty meeting of this sort seemed to imply the matter had been firmly closed.

  "Rani is a doctor for children. Very smart," Mummy announced, pinching the girl's cheek fondly. "Very pretty, too, na?" She lifted Rani's chin to direct her line of vision to Kashi. "My son is also very smart. He is a chemist in the U.S. He has been saving money to start a family here in India."

  "Akash, take Rani to the terrace. Her father and I have much to discuss," Papa demanded.

  Reluctantly, Kashi led his companion to the balcony, where he offered her a seat on one of the white plastic chairs. She remained standing, and he hopped up on the black metal rail, swinging his feet beneath him.

  "Look," he said, not making eye contact. "You seem very nice, but I cannot marry you."

  "You are in love with somebody else, isn't it?" A tremor broke Rani's soprano.

  "Yes." His head fell to his chest. Somehow, he had been made to believe his love was a crime.

  "It's okay," she said with a reassuring smile. "I am also in love. My parents don't approve, so they are trying to fix my marriage. They say I must marry within our caste, but how is love related to caste?"

  "What will you do?" He stared curiously at the girl for whom he'd found a new affinity.

  "I will keep meeting prospective grooms, but I will ask each to refuse me. Eventually, Mummy-Papa will agree, and I can marry whom my heart loves."

  That didn't seem like such a bad idea. If he found Daly and convinced her to wait while he made peace with the family, they might be able to marry. He couldn't picture wedding anyone but Daly.

  "The woman I love is an American," he offered.

  Rani nodded once and cast her eyes toward the horizon. "I love a merchant. One day, I am sure we will be together. Mummy-Papa will have to understand."

  "I was thinking of asking my Daly to wait for me," said Kashi. "Do you think that will work?"

  "Yes. But you must not waver. Reject me so we may find our true love."

  Fifteen minutes later, Mummy called them back into the house, smiling so wide her teeth peeked from between her lips. Everyone took their seats in the drawing room for teatime. Mummy played hostess, offering each guest a sampling of biscuits and namkeen from an engraved silver tray.

  Kashi jumped into the topic, relieved that his coming statement would not hurt Rani's feelings. "I cannot marry Rani," he mumbled as he rose to his feet. "I love Daly. I want to marry her and nobody else. I'm not going to move back to India. I am happy in the U.S."

  He eyed his parents in turn, hoping they would take pity on him. "Please understand this is how I have chosen to live my life. Your approval is very important to me. I want us all to live happily together—you, me, Daly, everyone." He clasped his hands together as tears welled behind his eyes.

  "Sit down," Papa boomed. "We will have none of this rubbish!"

  Manoj Uncle intervened. "Your Papa has told me all about your American affair, and I have told him all about Rani's love for a Vasiya. It doesn't matter. You will marry to each other. You are very compatible. Pandit-ji is looking over your stars now, and if they match, it will be decided." He chewed off a hangnail and spat it on the drawing room floor.

  "Papa, no!" Rani sobbed as she threw herself at his feet and clung to his pant leg. Her painted lips trembled as she spoke. "Papa, I love Sandeep. I want to marry Sandeep. You cannot force me to marry a man I don't want."

  "You're right, we cannot force you," he huffed. "But what choice do you have? Will you live with your Vasiya in his hut? Akash is educated. He will make a good life for you."

  "Please, Papa! I want to marry Sandeep. Sandeep loves me, and I love—"

  "Bakwaas Band!" Manoj slapped his daughter's cheek with the back of his hand. "You will not question Mummy and I. You are our child. It is our decision who you will marry!"

  "No, Papa. I am my own woman! It is my decision."

  "Chup! Chup! Chup! You insolent child!" Manoj struck his daughter a second time. The force sent her to the floor, where she stayed, crying into her hands.

  Mummy put down her serving tray and knelt to comfort Rani.

  "Get out of my house!" Papa roared. His aged face creased in concern. "We want nothing to do with people who treat their daughter in such a way." He straightened, using his body as a shield and driving the family out of the room.

  Rani's mother yanked her to her feet and shrieked, "Why must you misbehave like this, you evil little girl?"

  Rani wailed, "Sandeep, Sandeep, Sandeep!"

  The moment they crossed the threshold, Papa slammed the door.

  "Are these our only choices?" Papa asked, turning toward Kashi. "To accept a match we don't think proper or to force unhappiness upon you?"

  "There's another choice. You can reconsider, find a way to accept Daly into the family," Kashi pleaded.

  Mummy's eyes softened, but Kashi couldn't tell what emotions lay behind them. "We are your parents. It is our job to protect you, to help you achieve the best life possible."

  "What makes you think Dolly isn't a suitable match?" Mishti interjected.

  Neither Mummy nor Papa replied.

  "Or, for that matter, what makes you think Rani is? You chose Rani as a possible match because she comes from a good family. Clearly, looks can be deceiving. How can Dolly's family be any worse than that? Just because a person is respected in society does not mean she is a respectable person."

  "Daly's a good person," Kashi said. "She's smart and kind and helps make me a better person."

  Papa's leg shook with a repetitive twitch. His silence scared Kashi, but he refused to back down.

  Mummy passed the ends of her green dupatta between her fingers, wrapping the fabric tightly and then letting it go.

  Mishti continued. "What person has the right to judge another? To say he is not good enough?" Her eyes locked on her parents. "You may think Dolly is not a good match for Akash because she is an artist instead of a doctor or engineer. But what does that matter? Education is important to you—she's very passionate about her studies! Money is important to you—Akash has lots saved up. Is love important for you?"

  "Love is important to me," Kashi whispered, wrapping an arm around his mother. "Not just loving Daly, but loving you. I love you both and respect you so much, and I want you to approve of the match. Please, please consider my request"

  Papa cleared his throat.

  All eyes darted to him.

  "You could be making a very big mistake, marrying Dolly." He fell silent for a long time. His eyebrows pressed together. "But," he continued at last. "You would probably be making an even bigger mistake if we forced you to marry that girl."

  Mummy nodded sadly.

  "Though I hope you are right, that you and Dolly are good for each other.... If a mistake is to be made, I would rather it be one of your own choosing."

  Kashi humbly touched his parents' feet.

  Papa placed his hand on Kashi's head. "Now go," he whispered. "Go and find our daughter-in-law."

  Chapter 16

  Dare I admit all my dreams are coming true?

  Kashi scoured the city. After debating a long time, he finally called Laine in case Daly had made her way back home.

  "She's emailed once or twice, but otherwise I haven't heard from her," Laine answered once he to
ld her what had happened.

  "I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt her and am so, so worried," Kashi said between choked sobs.

  Laine sighed. "Don't worry. Daly can be very resourceful if she has to be," she said. "Retrace her steps and you'll find where she's gone."

  Kashi did his best to put the fear on hold and approach the search rationally. None of the family's friends or relatives knew anything of Daly’s whereabouts, and there were no hotels within walking distance—that meant she must have taken a taxi.

  Determined, he stood outside the apartment complex and stopped every cab, rickshaw, and auto that passed by, hoping Daly knew better than to accept a ride from a stranger. He showed the drivers Daly's picture and begged for any news they might have to offer.

  There weren't many Westerners around, particularly women as tall as Daly. If he kept surveying the cabmen, he should eventually find someone with information about where she had gone.

  After questioning drivers for the remainder of the day, he admitted temporary defeat. Despite his increasing anxiety, Kashi had no choice but to retire for the evening.

  The following day, he decided to take Laine's advice and retrace Daly's steps. Mishti and Jaya insisted on tagging along, which was fine with him. Three heads were better than one. First, they went to the Qutub Minar, but no one there knew anything. Next, they weaved in and out of the streets lining Connaught Place, searching for anyone with a tip.

  Jaya suggested they try the Saree House, where the shopkeeper and apprentice both remembered Daly well.

  "We get lots of tourists here. They recognize our shop as high quality," the merchant bragged. "That same day your friend came here, another big group of travelers arrived. Lots of money made that day." She grinned greedily as she folded the bolts of fabric.

  Jaya perked up. "Hey, that's right! Remember, Mishti, when we came back here to pick up Dolly's saree? Those women here, they talked with her." She tapped an index finger on her lips. "What did they say? Do you remember?"