The Marriage Bureau for Rich People

Home > Other > The Marriage Bureau for Rich People > Page 23
The Marriage Bureau for Rich People Page 23

by Farahad Zama


  She had to recite the mantra several dozen times before sleep finally claimed her.

  The next day, Mrs Ali left early in the morning to visit her sister. She gave the front-gate keys to Aruna.

  ‘I won’t be back till late in the evening,’ said Mrs Ali. ‘Sir said that he had to go out in the afternoon. Keep the keys with you and lock up after yourself in the evening if necessary.’

  Aruna put the keys in her purse.

  Both Aruna and Mr Ali were busy with clients before lunch. Just as they were about to close for lunch, they got a call from Venu, the divorced service engineer. Mr Ali picked up the phone.

  ‘I am sorry,’ said Mr Ali. ‘We haven’t got any matches for you. We sent your details to one divorced lady who we thought was suitable, but it didn’t work out. She got married through family contacts. There isn’t anybody else on the books right now.’

  Mr Ali put the phone down and shrugged his shoulders at Aruna. ‘Sometimes, there is nothing we can do,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Aruna.

  Soon afterwards, Aruna went home for lunch.

  Aruna came back to the office after lunch, just before three, and let herself in with the key. Mr Ali was not at home. Aruna was surprised because he normally did not go out until it had cooled down. There were no clients to disturb her and she started catching up with her filing work. Leela came in and said to Aruna, ‘Lady, I will be in the back yard, washing dishes.’

  Aruna smiled at her and went back to her work. About twenty minutes later, the gate opened and in walked Ramanujam. Seeing his tall, handsome figure stride in, Aruna was struck dumb. He had to say hello a couple of times, before she recovered and said, ‘Namaste,’ fairly formally.

  She was flustered and started looking through the papers that she was filing, as if the answer was hidden somewhere in the papers. Ramanujam waited patiently without speaking, until Aruna was able to face him.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ asked Aruna.

  ‘Take the biggest step in your life - marry me,’ he replied.

  ‘No! Not that again. Please leave me alone,’ she cried.

  ‘I don’t think I was very clear last time, Aruna. That’s why I’ve come here again. I love you, Aruna. I love you very much. Please marry me,’ he said.

  ‘I thought you went to see that rich girl last night,’ said Aruna.

  ‘Yes, I did. My family dragged me there and it made me realise that you are the only one for me. I love you, Aruna. Please say yes.’

  ‘No! How many times must I tell you? No. Please stop torturing me.’

  ‘On the contrary, Aruna. It is you who are torturing both yourself and me. Look in my eyes and tell me that you don’t have any feelings for me and I will leave you. I will go away and never talk to you again about marriage.’

  Hope flared through Aruna. ‘I . . .’ she began strongly, and looked into his eyes. She struggled to say the next few words that would free her, but she was swept into his deep, brown eyes and the words choked in her throat. ‘I . . .’ she repeated, brokenly.

  Ramanujam waited and the silence dragged.

  Finally, he broke in and said, ‘Aruna, my heart tells me that you love me. Why don’t you admit it?’

  Aruna cried fiercely, ‘Yes, I love you. There, I’ve said it. I’ll say it again. I love you. I love you. I love you! Satisfied?’

  ‘That’s a start,’ beamed Ramanujam with a wide smile on his face, ‘I feel great. I feel strong - like Hanuman, the monkey god who could cross the oceans in a single bound.’

  ‘Then, like Hanuman, you can remain a bachelor. Because I still won’t marry you,’ said Aruna, grimly.

  Ramanujam’s smile faltered. ‘Why not, darling?’ he asked, softly.

  His endearment did not go unnoticed by her and she blushed. She leaned forward and said intensely, ‘We don’t marry for love, Ram. You know that. Love is supposed to follow marriage, not the other way round. A marriage is not just about two people. It is about two families. You haven’t thought through this at all. You’ve just got a crazy idea in your head and, like a spoiled child, you want it. That’s all.’

  ‘Love is a craze, Aruna. You cannot think it through. Sure, it is supposed to follow marriage but that doesn’t mean that you push it away where it exists, either. Tell me what problems you see and we’ll solve them together. Haven’t you heard the saying: love makes everything easy.’

  Aruna shook her head. ‘No. The saying I’ve heard is that love complicates anything it touches.’

  ‘This is one of the reasons that I love you. Nobody can defeat you in an argument.’

  ‘I bet you won’t be saying that after we’ve been married for a few years,’ she said, before stopping herself abruptly, wishing she had bitten her tongue before the words had slipped out.

  ‘Yes, let’s bet on it. I’ll buy you a diamond necklace if I’m still saying that on our third anniversary. What will you bet?’ asked Ramanujam with a grin.

  Aruna shook her head and said desperately, ‘Ram, please be serious. We cannot get married.’

  Ramanujam became serious too. ‘Aruna, tell me why not,’ he said.

  ‘Will your family accept me? They are looking for a really special woman to be your bride,’ she said.

  He replied, ‘You are special, Aruna. I cannot guarantee that on day one there will be no resentment. But I can promise you this - once they see your innate goodness, they will start liking you. Until that happens, I will support you every step of the way. Whatever problems you have, I will make sure that they are resolved. That’s my promise, Aruna.’

  ‘How can you make promises like that? Look at your sister - she is so beautiful all the time. She looks perfect. I would look so out of place in your house. I’m not sophisticated like her; my English is not as good as hers. You might like my unsophisticatedness now, but in a year or so, it will grate on you. You will look at the wives of your friends and look down upon me.’

  ‘Aruna, why are you so hard on yourself? A lot of what you call sophistication is just money and exposure. You will pick it up soon enough. You already have more poise and elegance than most of them. Anyway, I hope you don’t pick up all of it because what you think of as sophistication is just worldliness and cynicism, ’ he said.

  ‘In your application form you said that you did not want a working woman as a wife. I want to continue this job for a few more years until my sister is married and my family’s financial situation is put on an even keel,’ said Aruna.

  ‘That was my family’s preference. I don’t mind either way. It will actually be good for you to go out rather than stay at home and watch TV serials all day and put on weight as so many women do after they get married,’ said Ramanujam.

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Aruna. ‘I won’t be around to cook you a meal when you get home.’

  ‘We have a cook at home who’s been around since I was a little boy. Even if you wanted to cook anything, I doubt if Kaka would let you. We also have a driver, a full-time maid and a gardener. The washerwoman comes twice a week to wash clothes at home. Anything else?’

  Aruna shook her head at how casually he had mentioned so many people working for them. The rich are very different from the rest of us, she thought. She said, ‘We are a poor family. We live in a one-room house and if you come to our house, my parents will not be able to treat you the way you are used to. In fact, your car won’t even be able to enter our street. You will have to leave it parked on the main road and walk the rest of the way because it is so narrow.’

  ‘So I’ll walk. Just because I’m rich doesn’t mean I’m spoilt, Aruna. You are the one who has a chip on her shoulder about money, not me.’

  She shook her head and said, ‘I’m not listening to anything you say, Ram. I said no and my answer is not changing.’

  Ramanujam stood up. Aruna stood up as well, feeling determined. She looked steadily at him, daring him to say something. Before he opened his mouth, however, the door opened and Leela walked in.

/>   ‘Lady, I’ve finished cleaning the dishes—’ she began and then saw Ramanujam. ‘Doctor Babu, is that you?’ she asked in wonder.

  Ramanujam was startled at being addressed by the servant-maid. He looked at her closely and said, ‘How is your grandson?’

  ‘He is doing well. It’s all because of you, sir. Without you, he would have been dead.’

  ‘We do what we can, but ultimately, it is all in His hands,’ he said. ‘Is he taking those tablets I prescribed?’

  ‘Yes, sir. They are expensive but madam helps me buy some of them and I work in another place and they also help me. My daughter and son-in-law manage the rest.’

  ‘Yes, they are expensive, but don’t neglect them,’ said Ramanujam.

  ‘You know that my grandsons are twins - Luv and Kush. They used to be identical, but now Kush has fallen behind. Luv is ahead of his brother in talking, doing things with his hands and other things. Will it always be like this?’ Leela asked.

  ‘It is difficult to say,’ replied Ramanujam. ‘Remember, we cut open his skull. Brain surgery is a big trauma. It is not surprising that he has fallen behind. As long as he is making progress, be happy. Don’t compare him to his brother.’

  Leela sighed. ‘You are right, Doctor Babu. We should just be thankful that he has come through such peril, still alive. Sorry, sir, madam, for interrupting you,’ she said and left the room.

  Ramanujam turned to Aruna and said, ‘Is that your last answer? Are you still refusing me?’

  ‘Yes, that’s my last answer,’ Aruna replied.

  ‘I don’t believe you. It is enough for me today that you’ve declared your love. I’m not letting this matter drop. Hasta la vista, baby. I’ll be back,’ he said, and left.

  Aruna stood at the table, staring after Ramanujam as he got into his car and drove off. He uses such strange expressions sometimes, she thought.

  Leela came back into the room and Aruna asked her, ‘Is that gentleman the doctor who treated your grandson?’

  ‘Yes, lady. He is such a good man. He operated on my grandson without taking a single paisa.’

  ‘That’s not a big deal. You went to KGH which is a government hospital. Of course he is not going to charge any fee for operating,’ said Aruna.

  Leela laughed. ‘Forgive me for saying this, lady, but you are a very naive girl. These doctors don’t treat you properly in the government hospital unless you go to their private surgery and become a patient there. They will charge you like a normal private patient and then treat you at the government hospital. Surely, you must know that.’

  Aruna said, ‘You are right, of course. I know all about it. My father was very unwell for a long time.’

  Leela said, ‘It’s not just that he didn’t charge any money. You know how it is when poor, illiterate people go to these places. We are patronised. Nothing is explained to us and we are looked down upon. The Doctor Babu was the only man who treated us as equals. He explained everything clearly in language that we could understand, drew diagrams and showed us what he was going to do, what we could expect, what the risks were. Forget doctors, even small-time clerks in government offices don’t do that.’

  Aruna stood silently, absorbing what Leela had said.

  Leela continued, ‘I am leaving now, lady. My work here is finished. ’

  Aruna slowly sat down in her chair, thinking. She saw in her mind’s eye all her encounters with Ramanujam. She thought about his earnest promises. Suddenly, as if waking up from a long sleep, she shook herself. Her hand went quickly to the phone and she dialled a number that had imprinted itself on her brain. The phone rang - once, twice and then to her relief, a familiar voice answered, ‘Ramanujam here.’

  ‘Hi! This is Aruna.’

  ‘ARUNA!’ shouted Ramanujam so loudly that she winced and jerked the phone away from her ear. ‘Sorry,’ he continued, ‘you took me by surprise. What can I do for you?’

  ‘Can you come back? You’ve forgotten something here,’ she said.

  ‘Right now? Can you keep it until I come over again?’ he asked. ‘Because you know I will be back.’

  ‘No, it won’t keep. You better come right now,’ she said.

  ‘I’m on my way,’ he said and hung up.

  Ramanujam was back in just a few minutes, but for Aruna those minutes seemed stretched out to many months as she paced about in restless agitation. Finally, she heard the gate open and in he walked. She stood stiff, quivering with excitement.

  He asked, ‘What have I forgotten?’

  Aruna replied softly, ‘To ask the question again.’

  ‘What?’ he asked with a confused look on his face.

  ‘Ask me again what you asked me earlier,’ said Aruna, her eyes closed.

  After a moment, a slow smile spread across his face and he asked, ‘Aruna, dear, will you marry me?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said simply, opening her eyes and scanning his face.

  He took one step forward and hugged her tight. Her body stiffened in shock and then yielded softly, moulding into his. They remained in an embrace for several seconds and then Aruna gently freed herself. She was embarrassed and refused to meet his eyes.

  ‘I love you,’ he said.

  ‘Me too,’ she replied, hesitantly.

  ‘What? I didn’t catch that,’ he said.

  ‘Me too,’ she said more strongly.

  ‘You too what?’ he asked.

  Aruna looked at his face finally and saw him smiling widely, and she flushed again. ‘You brute!’ she said.

  Ramanujam laughed. ‘Why don’t you lock up here and we’ll go out,’ he said.

  ‘Lock up?’ she asked and looked at him suspiciously. ‘How do you know I have the key?’

  ‘I . . . I just assumed . . .’ he said.

  ‘I knew it. All of you plotted behind my back, you meanies.’

  ‘For your own good, dear,’ he replied. ‘I called the Alis last night after coming back home. Come on now, let’s go. We’ll buy you shoes and then we can go up the mountain to Kailasagiri and see the sunset.’

  ‘Shoes? I already have two pairs. I don’t need any more shoes,’ she said.

  ‘Trust me, dear,’ he said, ‘women always need more shoes.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Early the next morning, the doorbell at Mr Ali’s house rang aggressively again and again. Mr Ali went to the door and saw an elderly gentleman outside, looking angry. There was a white car parked outside.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ asked Mr Ali, opening the door.

  The man rushed in and said, ‘What kind of immoral house are you running? People like you should have their faces blackened and be paraded round town on a donkey.’ He was shouting; his face was red and choleric.

  Mr Ali hurriedly closed the door behind the man. He didn’t want to promote neighbourhood gossip. He told the man, ‘Calm down, sir, and tell me what this is about. Shouting is not going to help matters.’

  ‘How can I not shout?’ replied the man. ‘You have destroyed my family’s happiness.’

  ‘Will you tell me what you are talking about so we can have an intelligent conversation?’ asked Mr Ali, exasperated.

  ‘I’m talking about my son whom you led astray. You and that witch who works here must have done some black magic to attract him. We should never have trusted people like you,’ said the man, his voice rising again.

  Mr Ali realised that the gentleman was Ramanujam’s father. ‘Sir, I realise you are angry, but please keep control of your tongue. Nobody has played any black magic on your son. In fact—’

  ‘Why should I keep control of my tongue? The Deputy Inspector General of police is a good friend of mine. I will have you arrested. That will teach you to interfere in my family’s affairs. What dreams I had about my son’s wedding; what thoughts we had about our daughter-in-law, how beautiful, educated and cultured she would be. How our daughter-in-law’s family would be equal in prestige and wealth to ours. Instead, what have we got? A girl who works in a marriage
bureau. People will make fun of us. We won’t be able to lift our heads in respectable society,’ said Ramanujam’s father.

  ‘Don’t threaten me, sir. Aruna is a very sensible girl and, thinking about all these things, she refused your son initially. He was the one who kept pressing her until she accepted. And I don’t want to hear about how you’ve lost out because your son has gone off his head. Have some confidence in your son. Why would he do anything to lower the prestige of your house?’

  ‘Bah!’ exclaimed the man dismissively. ‘Just because your son doesn’t listen to you and openly dissents against his mother on TV, you probably think there is no shame in having a child arranging his own marriage. We come from a family with better traditions than that.’

  ‘Don’t say a word against my family,’ said Mr Ali, raising his voice. ‘My son is fighting injustice and my wife only said what any mother would say when her son is walking into danger. There is nothing wrong with my family.’

  He took a deep breath and raised his hands in a placatory manner.

  He said, more softly, ‘We are not talking about my family. Let us talk about your son’s wedding. Don’t look down on Aruna or her family. She is a very good girl who will be an asset to you. Her family is no less prestigious than yours. Your son must have already told you that she is a Brahmin. Has he also told you that her ancestors were the royal priests of Rajahmundry? Aruna has read the Vedas in Sanskrit and knows the Puranas. What more culture do you need?’

  ‘Words . . .’ said the man.

  ‘Not just words, sir. Aruna is a very good girl, but more important, your son has fallen in love. Have you no regard for his wishes? Respect his choice. Accept Aruna as your daughter-in-law wholeheartedly; your family’s happiness lies that way.’

  ‘Don’t talk to me about my son’s happiness. I’m his father and I know better than you where his happiness lies. This is just an infatuation and he will soon come back in line once this so-called engagement is broken and I find a proper bride for him,’ replied the man.

  Mr Ali asked, ‘Do you know the Bezwada Brothers? They own the biggest sari shop in town.’

 

‹ Prev