The Wedding Photographer

by Sakshama Puri Dhariwal

  ‘My cousin showed the couple some of my photos and they liked my work. Plus, it was cheaper to fly me from India than to hire a local photographer.’ Arjun was the brother of a client and she could’ve easily omitted the latter half of that statement. But she hadn’t.

  ‘I haven’t technically paid for this seat. I thought it would be unfair to take advantage of a fortuitous situation,’ she’d told him because she would rather spend the entire flight being miserable than do something that she considered vaguely unscrupulous. Something, that for most people, would have been a no-brainer.

  Risha was probably the only person her age who honoured a bunch of archaic rules set by her parents, even in their absence. ‘There was no other way they would let their only child move to the big bad city all by herself. It’s a small price to pay.’

  And finally, Arjun couldn’t get her innocent confession out of his head. The poignant admission in his hotel room that had knocked the wind out of him. ‘I’m... I’m a little nervous.’

  Risha was incapable of telling even a small, harmless lie, never mind concocting an elaborate scheme to hurt someone. If anyone was inviolable, Risha was. Arjun owed her a big apology and he intended to make it immediately.

  But first, he owed the vice captain of the Indian cricket team a drink.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough for this, man,’ Arjun said again, clinking his lager glass with Vikram’s.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to get some practice before the Sri Lanka tour,’ Vikram said modestly, as though playing gully cricket with twenty amateurs was the best practice he could ever get. Arjun could see why Rohan was friends with the guy.

  Vikram’s phone beeped and he picked it up, laughing at something on his screen. ‘Nidhi was out with some friends earlier today, she just sent me a picture,’ he explained, turning the phone towards Arjun.

  Four people stood beneath a poster of the latest superheroes movie, imitating the actors’ macho poses. He recognized Rishabh and Nidhi, they stood next to a guy wearing an Avengers sweatshirt. And finally, Risha. The Avengers guy had his arm around her as she flexed her ‘muscles’.

  She looked unbearably cute in the picture. And happy.

  A feeling of panic struck Arjun. ‘How is she?’

  ‘She’s good. She quit her job.’

  Arjun was surprised. ‘Risha quit her job?’

  Vikram smiled. ‘I was talking about Nidhi.’

  Arjun gave an embarrassed nod and stared into his glass. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Risha is fine, too. In fact,’ Vikram added casually, ‘I think she’s meeting a guy today.’

  Arjun’s head jerked up. ‘What guy?’

  ‘Some guy her parents set her up with. Wait, let me show you the picture,’ Vikram said, handing his phone to Arjun.

  Arjun snatched the phone from Vikram, but instead of a Shaadi.com profile, he found himself looking at an image of a newspaper clipping.

  Arjun’s jaw dropped. ‘Shit.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I know this guy. I mean, I’ve met him once. His name is Dhruv and he’s a friend of Angad’s—they were in a family business programme together—and we met over drinks once, a long time ago.’

  ‘Oh, that’s great. Is he a nice guy?’ Vikram asked, seeming genuinely interested.

  ‘Yes, he is,’ Arjun scowled.

  Dhruv was a great guy. He was rich as Croesus, good-looking enough to be an underwear model, and if memory served right, funny, too. He would make Risha very happy.

  Arjun clenched his fists.

  The hell he would. Not if Arjun had anything to do with it.

  ‘Do you know when they are meeting?’

  ‘For dinner, I guess,’ Vikram shrugged, hiding a smile.

  Arjun glanced at his watch; it was 8.30 p.m. They were probably having dinner as they spoke. Dhruv would probably be in love with Risha halfway through dessert.

  And she could fall for him, too.

  Arjun stood up suddenly. ‘Vikram, I’m really—’

  ‘Let me guess. You want to cut our evening short?’ Vikram said, looking very amused.

  Arjun shot him an apologetic smile. ‘I owe you one.’

  Vikram gave him a friendly slap on the back. ‘Oh, I think you do.’

  Arjun drove from Gurgaon to Vasant Kunj in record time. As he pulled into the parking lot of Risha’s building, his phone rang. At that moment, all Arjun wanted to do was find Risha, so he was tempted to ignore the call. But answering it turned out to be a good decision, because his father was on the phone and he sounded positively elated.

  ‘Great job today, beta! I’m so proud of you,’ Arvind gushed. ‘You handled this very well.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ Arjun said. ‘I wasn’t sure it would work, but I’m relieved it did.’

  ‘Yes, it was a very creative solution. How did you get the idea?’

  From the girl I’m going to marry.

  ‘Please tell me it’s not that Divya girl,’ his father said, and Arjun realized he had spoken out loud.

  Crap.

  ‘Uh, no. Why would you say that?’

  ‘That ridiculous garbage your mother got printed in the newspaper. It looked like a paid piece of—’

  ‘Wait, what?’

  ‘A paid piece of rubbish. Like we were using Chinky’s wedding as a PR strategy to—’

  ‘Mom did that?’ Arjun yelled into the phone.

  ‘Of course. Who else is capable?’

  ‘Why?!’ Arjun exploded.

  ‘For her beloved Priye Ma. Apparently, SoL subscribes to the “any publicity is good publicity” school of thought,’ his father explained.

  ‘How did she do it?’ Arjun asked, trying to keep his anger in check.

  ‘She convinced that poor simpleton Pinku Sabharwal that having his picture printed in the paper would give his salwar business the marketing thrust it needs. Pinku helped her procure the photographs.’

  ‘How did he manage that?’ Arjun wondered, more to himself than to his father.

  ‘No idea. But don’t let it bother you. I’m just relieved you aren’t marrying into the Sinha family.’

  ‘Over my dead body,’ Arjun assured him.

  ‘That’s my boy!’ Arvind laughed. ‘So who is this girl you’re engaged to?’

  ‘We’re not engaged.’

  ‘I thought you said you’re going to marry her?’

  ‘Eventually. But first I have to convince her that I’m worthy of her.’

  The senior Khanna chuckled. ‘I like her already.’

  Two hours later, Arjun was pacing up and down outside Risha’s apartment like a caged animal. For the millionth time, he ran the scenario through his head.

  Risha and Dhruv having a great time at dinner, holding hands over their chocolate-based dessert, kissing passionately in the car. And Arjun didn’t even want to think about what else they could be doing.

  This was a really long date, he thought with frustration. She had no business being out with a guy for so long on a first date. Unless she really liked him.

  Shit. What if she really liked him?

  Arjun sat on the stairs opposite her door and shoved his hands in his hair.

  He was an idiot. A complete and utter idiot for losing the only girl he had ever loved over something as meaningless as a bunch of Page 3 photographs. Arjun was willing to take every single photograph of him ever clicked and print it in the newspaper if it meant he could have Risha back.

  If she showed up with Dhruv in tow, Arjun would have no choice but to kick the asshole’s teeth in. Too bad if he was a ‘nice guy’. But Arjun was being needlessly paranoid; there was no point imagining the worst.

  Another fifteen minutes passed and Arjun was imagining the worst. That Risha was not coming home at all. That she was going home with Dhruv.

  The elevator dinged and Risha walked out. Alone.

  Arjun’s heart slammed into his ribs. She was wearing the same clothes from the photo Vikram had shown him earlier today,
and she looked beautiful. But sleep deprived.

  Arjun felt a twinge of guilt.

  Risha saw him and stopped dead in her tracks. Something like hope flickered in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced with indignation.

  ‘What do you want?’ she asked icily, putting her backpack down in front of her door.

  ‘I want to talk,’ Arjun said, hoping she wasn’t too pissed off about Annie Aunty’s email.

  ‘You should’ve sent a subpoena.’

  Okay, so she was pissed off about Annie Aunty’s email.

  ‘I’m sorry about that email,’ he said.

  ‘I’m a journalist,’ she shrugged. ‘If I don’t receive at least one legal threat a week, my boss thinks I’m not working hard enough.’

  Arjun fought back an admiring smile.

  She began entering her apartment and he blurted, ‘The strike was called off.’

  A genuine look of relief crossed her face and she paused in the doorway. ‘That’s great! Congratulations.’

  ‘I took your advice,’ he said, trying to keep her from going inside.

  That caught her attention. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I organized a cricket match with the contractor’s men. And since Vikram was the surprise guest, the workers lapped it up!’

  Her face broke into a genial smile. ‘Nice! Oh, so that’s why he didn’t show up for the movie today.’

  Which reminded him. ‘How was your date?’

  ‘My what?’

  ‘Vikram said your parents introduced you to some guy,’ Arjun said, hoping he didn’t look as miserable as he felt.

  ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business,’ she said, ready to slam the door in his face.

  ‘Risha, wait!’ he said, blocking the door with his foot. ‘I’m sorry. I... you’re right. It’s none of my business.’

  Risha sighed. ‘What are you really doing here?’

  ‘I know you had nothing to do with the photographs in the newspaper.’

  ‘What tipped you off? Surely not the dozen texts I sent you?’ she said caustically, but Arjun saw traces of hurt in her eyes.

  ‘When you choose to trust somebody, you need to trust them completely.’

  It was time to let her in. ‘Last year I was dating a girl and, long story short, I found out that she’d been using me to advance her career. I caught her cheating on me, and since then I’ve had some... trust issues.’

  Her face filled with compassion. ‘I’m sorry.’

  He shook his head. ‘I was a fool.’

  ‘I think,’ she said staunchly, ‘that she was the fool.’

  And that’s when Arjun realized why he loved Risha.

  He had ignored her, threatened her, pretty much ostracized her, and yet her eyes were alight with allegiance. She immediately trusted his version, without asking for any additional information. Risha was innately kind, unquestioningly loyal, and all-round perfect.

  And Arjun did not deserve her.

  ‘I shouldn’t have shut you out,’ he said, his handsome face ridden with remorse.

  She nodded. ‘Yes, you shouldn’t have.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay, I understand,’ she said.

  Arjun gazed into her eyes and, in a voice hoarse with emotion, said, ‘I’m in love with you.’

  Risha looked at him blankly.

  When she said nothing, Arjun spoke in a defeated voice. ‘I just want you to be happy. With Dhruv or... whoever,’ he said, convinced that the ache in his heart would never go away. And that he would probably never sleep again.

  Risha’s lips tilted up in a hint of a smile. ‘The first time I met you, I really did think you were normal.’

  He looked at her in confusion.

  ‘I didn’t go out with Dhruv tonight. I had plans to, but I cancelled last minute.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I didn’t think it would be fair to him,’ she explained.

  ‘Why not?’ he asked, holding his breath.

  ‘Because I’m in love with someone else.’

  His heart sank. Was it the Avengers guy?

  Arjun cleared his throat and nodded. ‘I see.’

  Risha held the door wide open and looked up at him, her eyes brimming with laughter. ‘Mr Khanna, would you like to come in?’

  His heart pounding, Arjun stood in his spot and stared into her bright eyes. ‘Why?’

  She stepped over the threshold into the corridor and placed a hand on his jaw. ‘Because I love you, too.’

  Arjun inhaled sharply and yanked her forward, slamming his lips down on hers. His kiss was a silent apology, an urgent benediction, an insatiable hunger. Her lips parted eagerly and the kiss became possessive, like he wanted to devour her with his mouth, brand her with his touch.

  He crushed her tightly to his chest and said fiercely, ‘I love you so much, Risha. And I’m so sorry I hurt you.’

  She shook her head. ‘I can handle fighting, but I’m not a fan of the silent treatment. You need to start communicating with me, okay?’

  He nodded, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her softly.

  ‘Just like that,’ she murmured against his lips.

  Arjun laughed and rested his chin on her head. ‘I missed you.’

  ‘I missed you, too,’ she said, taking him by the hand and pulling him inside her apartment.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Arjun asked.

  She nodded.

  ‘What about your parents’ rule?’

  ‘It’s a silly rule. They’re visiting next month and I’m going to propose a revision in all the rules.’

  ‘If I come in,’ he warned, ‘I may not leave.’

  ‘Why, what do you have in mind?’ she teased.

  ‘To be honest,’ he confessed, raking a hand through his hair, ‘I could really use some sleep.’

  ‘Me too,’ she admitted. ‘I haven’t slept in days.’

  Arjun wrapped his arms around her. ‘I haven’t slept in years.’

  Scandal Day 142

  3.11 p.m.

  Arjun answered his phone with a wide smile. He had been looking forward to this call all day.

  ‘Hello!’ he said cheerily.

  ‘What did you say to Nani?’ his mother screeched.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked innocently.

  ‘You’re driving to Patiala?’ she cried.

  ‘Actually, we’re driving to Amritsar, but we’re stopping over at Patiala and Ludhiana on the way,’ Arjun said.

  ‘What do you mean by “we”? Who is this “we”?’ she shrieked in a thick Punjabi accent.

  Arjun muffled a laugh. ‘Risha and I.’

  Amrita sounded panicked. ‘Who is Richa?’

  ‘Risha is my girlfriend.’

  ‘Since when do you have a girlfriend? And why haven’t I met her?!’ she yelled.

  ‘Oh, but you have met her,’ Arjun drawled.

  ‘No, I haven’t!’ Amrita said frantically.

  ‘Yes, you have,’ he assured her. ‘At Chinky’s wedding.’

  ‘At Chinky’s wedding? Who is this girl?’ his mother demanded.

  Knowing this would definitely push her over the edge, Arjun said with a chuckle, ‘The wedding photographer.’

  5.37 p.m.

  WhatsApp Chat

  Risha Kohli: Did you speak to your mom?

  Arjun Khanna: Yes.

  Risha Kohli: How did it go?

  Arjun Khanna: Very well.

  Risha Kohli: Liar.

  Arjun Khanna: Did you speak to Nani?

  Risha Kohli: Yes.

  Arjun Khanna: How did it go?

  Risha Kohli: Great, as usual. Although, she asked me if I still have the kaleera from Chinky’s wedding.

  Arjun Khanna: And do you?

  Risha Kohli: Of course not.

  Arjun Khanna: Liar.

  Risha Kohli: She also said something very odd to me.

  Arjun Khanna: What did she say?

  Risha Kohli: She said, ‘Bring thee kaleera
with you to Patiala, you can leave it at thee gurdwara here.’ Any idea what that’s about?

  Arjun Khanna: I think she has her heart set on marrying you off to Harinder ‘pat name Harry’.

  Risha Kohli: Maybe I will marry him.

  Arjun Khanna: Maybe you won’t.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My parents—who are responsible for every single thing that’s right with me.

  My husband—who reads my work much faster than he should and claims it’s because I ‘write so well’. Thank you for being my sounding board, my punching bag and my Eureka Forbes.

  Snigdha and Nikhil—the perfect models for depicting sibling relationships accurately: two parts loyalty, one part humour and one part OCD.

  My Urdu-poetry-loving grandfathers and my pure Punjabi grandmothers—for choosing me, out of a dozen grandkids, as their favourite.

  My in-laws—for taking pride in all my achievements, no matter how big or small.

  My first readers and favourite girls—Nidhi Arora, the left half of my brain, the yang to my yin, and Priyanka Rai, about whom I have a billion wicked thoughts on a daily basis.

  Friends, some whose names and others whose personalities I have shamelessly stolen for this book—Kunal Walia, who, despite being away for six months in a year, is always around; Rohan Sehgal, for being my voice of reason and for always answering the phone, irrespective of the time difference; Sameer Walzade of Sonder Frames, for patiently answering my five dozen photography-related questions and five million existential ones; and Jessica Anand Gupta—oh, I think that I’ve found myself a cheerleader—she is always right there when I need her.

  Ekta Rekhi, Mihir Modi and Richa Pandey—for alternately requesting and bribing (but mostly just terrorizing) me to write a book since the day I met them. Can we please move the gun away from my head now?

  Diptakirti Chaudhuri—writer par excellence, expert on all things Bollywood, mentor and friend.

  Angad B. Sodhi—the ‘real’ wedding photographer, for shooting the cover! You. Are. Brilliant.

  Brinda Kumar and Prashant Verma—if people truly judge books by their covers, you guys made this one a winner.

  The brilliant team at Penguin Random House India—unofficially the Fawad Khan fan club, officially the best team I could’ve asked for: Devangana Dash, Shruti Katoch Dhadwal, Cibani Premkumar and Tarini Uppal. Least, but not last (because that is just one error I would make without him), Ambar Sahil Chatterjee—friend first, editor second. Thank you.