‘That’s what you said about Chinky.’
Amrita cringed at the commonplace nickname. ‘Nitisha,’ she corrected. ‘And look who she’s found—he’s a baniya and on top of that he lives in Rajouri Garden,’ she said with an exaggerated shudder.
‘Rajouri Garden,’ Arvind reminded her scornfully, ‘is less than a kilometre from where our first home was—the home in which your son was born. What a convenient memory you have, Amrita.’
Forced to recall a time in her life she had all but erased from her mind, his wife turned bright red. Arvind softened his tone. ‘Rohan is completely self-made and I have nothing but respect for him. He is grounded, well brought-up, and frankly, I doubt we could’ve found a better match for Chinky had we tried. We are lucky he’s marrying into our family and you would do well to remember that.’
Arvind turned back to his putt and adjusted his stance for his next shot. Realizing the conversation was over, Amrita pushed her shoulders back and strutted out the door, only pausing briefly to issue a reminder. ‘Don’t be late for the satsang.’
Risha glanced at her watch. She had to finish two more three-hundred-word articles before she called it a day, and it was already 6 p.m. Her desk phone rang and she answered it. ‘Hello?’
The security guard from the reception was at the other end. ‘Madam, aapke liye courier aaya hai[22].’
‘Amritsar se?’ she sighed.
‘Yes, madam.’
Risha headed to the reception, grumbling to herself. It was almost as though her parents were waiting for the busiest time of the day to ‘surprise’ her with more matrimonial ads. Risha ripped open the envelope as she walked back to her workstation.
News Today courier log
Sender’s name: Dr A.K. Kohli, Amritsar
Receiver’s name: Risha Kohli, New Delhi
Date of receipt: Feb 23, 2016
Time stamp: 5:59 PM
Risha was spared reading the third ad because she ran into Kabir.
‘Just the person I wanted to see,’ he said with a smile.
Just the person I didn’t, she thought, remembering the pile of work at her desk.
Kabir glanced at the newspaper cuttings in her hand. ‘What are you reading?’
Risha pressed the papers to her chest. ‘Oh, nothing. Just some research for the “5 Breakfast Smoothies” piece.’
‘How’s it coming along?’ Kabir asked, leaning in to her.
‘I’ll email it to you before I leave tonight.’
‘No rush, you can do it tomorrow,’ he said, looking happier than usual.
‘Really?’
‘Of course. I’m sure you’ll do a great job.’ He winked.
Wow, he was being friendly.
‘Are you drunk?’ Risha blurted before she could stop herself.
Kabir chucked her under the chin. ‘Three glasses of wine do not a drunk make, cherie.’
‘Um, sure,’ she said, taking a step back.
‘I was at a wine and cheese event,’ he explained.
‘Which one?’
‘The SoL satsang.’
Priye Ma had developed quite a cult following among Delhi’s elite. Kabir included apparently, Risha thought with a snort.
Kabir peered at her and Risha faked a cough. His expression turned cold and his tone became patronizing. ‘When Delhi’s soigné celebrities invite you to a party where each guest receives a personalized Burberry pocket square, you don’t just abscond.’
Actually, given the ‘no accepting gifts in exchange for news coverage’ policy, you do abscond.
Risha arranged her expression into one of polite curiosity. ‘How did it go?’
‘Fine,’ Kabir said nonchalantly. ‘They were serving a 1990 Chateau Margaux, so that was nice.’
Risha knew nothing about wine, but she feigned an impressed look. Kabir seldom praised anything, so if he thought the wine was ‘nice’, Risha was certain it must have been spectacular. ‘Sounds like fun. Anyway, I should get back to work.’
Kabir placed a hand on her arm. ‘I told you, you can send the article tomorrow.’
And what about the other one I need to write, jackass?
Risha flipped her hair back, casually brushing Kabir’s hand away. ‘Right, but I think I should get a head start on the other piece: 7 Quick Full-Body Workouts.’ And thinking this was the perfect time to slip in the reminder, she added, ‘As you know, I’m on leave from Thursday to Sunday.’
‘Yes, I remember.’ Then he paused, as if considering his next words. ‘Do you want to get a drink?’
Risha stared at him. ‘Now?’
‘Sure.’
Not when she had six hundred words to write. Actually, not ever. Because he was her boss, and while it wasn’t exactly frowned upon in their line of work, that wasn’t the kind of girl Risha was. ‘Uh, we could, but I have to, um...’ Risha racked her brain for a plausible excuse, ‘fix the...’ Kabir looked at her sceptically and Risha was suddenly struck by a brainwave. ‘I have to fix the intern’s piece. It was inundated with errors, grammatical and structural, so I offered to help her out.’
It was almost like that one sentence that doused Kabir’s high. ‘I can’t believe these people went to any school, let alone journalism school. They are the most incompetent, inadequate, ineffectual, unintelligent...’ and on went the invective.
By the time Risha returned to her workstation, she was exhausted. She had been at work since nine in the morning, working on her articles for the coming week in advance. Earlier today, she had received an email from Nitisha Khanna’s wedding planner, Tanvi, containing the week’s itinerary.
Risha opened the email again and rolled her eyes at its formal tone. Tanvi was Nidhi’s college friend and her wedding planner, and she had worked closely with Risha on two weddings. The girls were good friends, but just like Risha, Tanvi was a thorough professional, so the official-sounding email hardly came as a surprise.
From: Tanvi Bedi
To: Risha Kohli
Subject: Khanna–Singhal Wedding Itinerary
Dear Risha,
We look forward to your presence at the wedding festivities of Nitisha and Rohan. For your convenience, please find below the schedule of events. A detailed itinerary with directions and relevant phone numbers is attached with this mail.
February 25 (Thursday)
Mehndi at the Mezzanine Garden, Khanna Heights
The event will commence at 3 p.m. and conclude around 8 p.m.
February 26 (Friday)
Game Night at the Penthouse, Khanna Heights
The event will commence at 8 p.m. and the theme is retro video games.
February 27 (Saturday)
(a) Cricket Match at Singhal Farms, Gurgaon
The event will commence at 11 a.m. and conclude after each side has batted twenty overs.
(b) Cocktails and Dinner at the Oberoi Hotel, Gurgaon
The event will commence at 7.30 p.m. and conclude around midnight.
February 28 (Sunday)
(a) Choora at the Bridal Suite of the Oberoi Hotel, Gurgaon
The event will take place between 9 a.m. and 10 a.m.
(b) Bridal make-up at the Bridal Suite of the Oberoi Hotel, Gurgaon
The event will commence after the choora and is expected to wrap up in two hours.
(c) Wedding at the Oberoi Hotel, Gurgaon
The ceremony is scheduled for 2 p.m.
Your presence is mandatory at all the above-mentioned events.
A room has been booked in your name at the Oberoi Hotel from Feb 27 until the morning of Feb 29. In case you require accommodation prior to that, please let me know.
As per your request, I have scheduled a call with Nitisha at noon tomorrow.
In case you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact me.
Best,
Tanvi Bedi
Iris Wedding Planners
Risha felt a flutter of excitement in her
stomach. Just thinking about the upcoming wedding made the day’s exhaustion melt away. Why was it that days without sleep during a shoot didn’t make her ornery, but returning to NT after a week turned her into a complete grouch? Photography made her so happy that she was actually looking forward to the early mornings and late nights.
And Arjun.
Risha sat up straight in her chair. Maybe lack of sleep wasn’t the only reason she was so distracted today, she admitted to herself reluctantly. Maybe she should also account for the unreasonable amount of time she had spent stalking Arjun Khanna on the Internet. She had read every single piece of information she could find on him online. While there weren’t too many personal details, there was a lot of material on his accomplishments during his stint as CEO of Khanna Developers.
Absurd as it was, Risha was almost proud of him. Like she would be of Nidhi or Rishabh. It was as though she knew Arjun, that she could take pride in his achievements. But she didn’t, really. She had just spent a few hours with a guy on a flight. A guy who was intelligent and funny and chivalrous. And really hot.
A guy who had probably forgotten all about her.
Risha could not have been more wrong.
Arjun hadn’t forgotten about her. But unlike her, his thoughts were not so pleasantly inclined. To put it mildly, he was livid.
Since getting home that evening, Arjun had spent a significant amount of time googling Risha Kohli. The first result was a LinkedIn profile of some journalist who worked at News Today, so Arjun had ignored it. But the other two links were also dead ends; one was a student at the University of Virginia and the other was a human rights lawyer in London. So Arjun had opened the first link again and stared at the profile picture. It was grainy, but that smile was unmistakable.
He read through her profile and found that she had gone to DPS Amritsar and Panjab University before joining News Today. Arjun’s initial shock had almost instantly turned into anger. He wasn’t upset that she had lied to him, but lying about being a journalist was another thing altogether. And a goddamn journalist at News Today, the country's leading proponent of sensationalized news, inaccurate information and misspelled words.
She had lied to him.
Arjun whipped out his phone and speed-dialled his sister. Nitisha answered in her usual cheerful voice. ‘You will live a thousand years! Rohan and I are on our way up to see you.’
‘I don’t think Risha Kohli is a good choice.’
‘Bhai, it’s too late now! I’ve already paid her an advance.’
No wonder Risha hadn’t risen to his jibe about not getting paid if she failed to take his photos.
‘Wait till you hear the next bit: she’s a journalist. A journalist, Chinky!’ Arjun said.
Last night, he had been crabby about Risha’s lack of interest in him, but now he was furious at himself for his naiveté. She had charmed him like a snake.
Nitisha was unfazed. ‘I know. She works for News Today. Now open the door.’
‘You know? And you’re still letting her shoot your wedding?’ Arjun opened the door, still yelling into the phone.
Rohan put his hands up and rocked back on his heels. ‘Hello, Arjun. Sorry about Nitisha, she’s on the phone with a raving lunatic.’
‘Sorry,’ Arjun grumbled, shaking Rohan’s hand and inviting him in.
Nitisha threw her arms around her brother. ‘You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Bhai.’
Arjun gave her a concerned look. ‘All okay? Mom giving you trouble?’
Nitisha seemed amused. ‘No more than she’ll be giving you.’
‘Meaning?’
Nitisha plonked herself on the large sectional sofa in the living room and put her feet up on the wooden coffee table. ‘You didn’t show up at the SoL satsang today.’
‘So? I never attend those things.’ Arjun shrugged.
‘Yes, but she was hoping to introduce you to someone,’ Nitisha explained.
Again, nothing new. This wasn’t the first time their mother had attempted something like that, and Arjun knew it wouldn’t be the last. But he was impatient to return to the original topic of discussion, so he ignored Nitisha’s comment. ‘How can you trust a journalist?’
Nitisha grabbed a bowl of walnuts from the table and shrugged. ‘She shot Vikram’s wedding and he seems to trust her.’
Arjun looked at her in disbelief. ‘What if she’s on some secret mission to splash our private lives in the newspaper?’
Nitisha’s eyes widened. ‘Secret mission? Yes, maybe Al-Qaeda has recruited her to do a profile on our caterer. It’s a wedding, Bhai, not an episode of Homeland.’
‘Why aren’t you taking this seriously? She’s a journalist with a sleazy publication,’ Arjun argued.
‘Yes, the sleazy publication that gave my spring-summer collection a rave review,’ Nitisha reminded him.
‘It’s not the same thing. That’s your professional life, this is your wedding—the single most important day of your life. Do you want to become the subject of tabloid gossip?’ Arjun demanded, throwing his hands up in frustration.
Surprised by her brother’s impassioned response, Nitisha turned to her fiancé for help. Rohan was watching Arjun intently through his rimless glasses. After a long pause, he said, ‘If I didn’t know any better, I would think you have a personal vendetta against this particular journalist.’
‘That’s impossible, he’s never met her,’ Nitisha said.
With the most impassive expression he could manage, Arjun said, ‘I’m just concerned.’
Rohan raised an eyebrow.
Arjun returned his look.
Confused by the silent exchange between the two men, Nitisha said, ‘Bhai, if she didn’t sell Vikram’s wedding photos to the tabloids, why would she sell mine? Do you seriously believe I’m a bigger celebrity than the vice captain of the Indian cricket team?’
‘Not you, but... Rohan is,’ Arjun finished in a lame attempt to save himself.
Rohan laughed. ‘Dude, I’m flattered, but that’s not true.’
Nitisha tipped her head and studied her brother carefully. ‘Why the sudden paranoia?’
Arjun knew if he pursued this further, his sister would see through him. Actually, he was more worried that Rohan would see through him. The man hadn’t built an empire from scratch without acquiring an ability to read people along the way. And at that moment, Rohan was watching him with a curious expression that was making Arjun very uncomfortable.
‘Never mind,’ Arjun muttered, walking towards the bar. ‘What can I get you?’ he asked Rohan.
‘Vodka.’
Arjun turned to his sister. ‘Chinky?’
She popped a walnut in her mouth and shook her head. ‘I’m on a cleanse till tomorrow.’
Arjun poured Rohan a large vodka and grabbed a beer for himself from the fridge.
‘By the way,’ Rohan said, taking the glass from Arjun, ‘Did you bring the vodka I wanted from duty-free?’
Arjun gave his brother-in-law a disgusted nod. ‘You’re worth millions, but you still don’t want to pay duty on your alcohol? This is what the Economic Times should be writing about—the thrifty mentality of start-up CEOs.’
‘Unlike the others in this room, I wasn’t born a millionaire. I actually had to work for it,’ Rohan countered.
Both Nitisha and Arjun worked really hard at their respective careers, and they knew Rohan respected them for it. But this was just harmless trash talk, so Arjun played along. ‘Yes, working with IIT-IIM graduates is so tough. Try negotiating the cost of bricks and sariya in Pitampura!’
Rohan nodded in agreement. ‘With your Hindi skills, I can only imagine how difficult it must be.’
‘I’ll show you my Hindi skills, bhen—’ Arjun cut off the expletive, glancing at his sister.
‘Not like I haven’t heard it all before,’ Nitisha sighed, ignoring Arjun’s apologetic smile. ‘What a family you’re marrying into, Rohan. A potty-mouthed brother-in-law, a father-in-law whose only inter
est in life is golf, and a mother-in-law who will soon drape an orange robe and move out of the house into the SoL ashram on Lodhi Road.’
Both Rohan and Arjun spoke together. ‘She’s moving out?’
Nitisha chuckled. ‘Try not to look so pleased by the thought. And no, she’s not.’
Arjun took a sip of his beer. ‘A man can hope.’
Rohan sank into the sofa next to his fiancée and draped an arm around her. ‘Men.’
Nitisha punched his arm affectionately.
Arjun groaned. ‘Get a room.’
‘Very grown-up, Bhai. What in the world are you so cranky about, anyway?’ his sister inquired.
‘I’m not cranky. I’m just... under-slept.’
Rohan pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and gave Arjun a sceptical look. ‘Dude, I’ve been hearing that excuse since the day we met. How can you always be under-slept? Why don’t you just sleep?’
Because he couldn’t.
‘I will, eventually,’ Arjun assured Rohan. ‘Now tell me,’ he said, reaching for the stack of menus in his kitchen drawer, ‘what do you guys want for dinner?’
Four days to the wedding
From: Editor, SoL to Soul Magazine
To: [email protected]
Subject: Newsletter [February 24, 2016]
Jai Priye Ma!
Dear Sisters and Brothers,
This early edition of our newsletter is to celebrate the forthcoming wedding of Nitisha Khanna, daughter of our beloved treasurer, Amy Khanna, and her husband, real estate tycoon, Arvind Khanna.
Yesterday marked the beginning of Nitisha’s wedding festivities with the Holy Satsang, presided over by Sri Sri Priye Guru Ma herself. Amy initiated the pre-Satsang ceremony by placing twenty-one roses, seven kilos of laddoos, a Tanishq diamond set with matching earrings, and a three-carat diamond ring at the lotus feet of Sri Sri Priye Guru Ma. Priye Ma has generously passed on the gifts to the Science of Living Foundation. However, at Amy’s insistence, she has kindly agreed to wear the ring until the culmination of the wedding festivities.
The Wedding Photographer Page 6
