Arranged marriage was an age-old story that Khushi, the youngest of the infamous Gupta family, who revolutionized and dominated the trading market for generations, knew well.
For it was the only thing she heard growing up.
But that neither prepared...
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- April 2018 -
"Maa please just listen-"
"We have been over this a hundred times Khushi-"
"Yes, but you aren't understand-"
"What am I not understanding?!"
Khushi stopped short, completely at a loss of words. It was a first for her, for she always had a retort ready, a habit that in fact drove her father up the wall, and a habit that she secretly cherished. But as she watched her mother stare back at her, almost exhausted from their argument, Khushi realized that she had nothing to say in her defence.
Because what she was asking for was unreasonable. At least in the world she grew up in.
"Look Khushi," Garima said, shaking her head. "I told you over and over again that going to medical college is one thing, but doing an internship is completely out of question-"
"But it is school Maa! I won't fully finish my education without completing my internship, it's just how the system works!"
Garima pressed her lips and continued to inspect the choker in her hands in silence.
It was a sunny Thursday afternoon in the Gupta manor, where Khushi was found following her mother around the house as she tended to various mundane tasks. A very important party was to be held there the next day, courtesy of some crucial business partners Alok had invited for dinner. Garima, being the epitome of a dutiful wife, was leaving no stone unturned to ensure that the preparations were flawless.
As was what was expected of her.
Khushi had never understood how her mother did it. She was so good at these socialite parties, showing the right amount of glamour, humility and naivety. It was as if she had mastered the art of being perfect - there was no other word to describe her.
"The party is going to start at 7 p.m. tomorrow, so please be on time Khushi... I am running out of excuses for you," Garima finally said, setting the choker back in the jewelry box.
Khushi frowned. "I am not coming."
Her mother looked at her, exasperated. "If you think you can sulk your way into getting permission-"
"I have exams," Khushi interrupted, indignant. "In less than a month! I have better things to do than pretend to be useless."
"Khushi," her mother warned.
She shrugged, unapologetic. "Plus, it's not like I am going to succeed anyway. Somebody will still find some fault in me and the next thing you know, it's going to be the hot gossip for the following two months... So, I am going to save you the embarrassment and spend the evening in the library."
And it was true. Unlike her mother, Khushi was everything but perfect.
As she was told countless times, she spoke too loudly at these parties, had too many opinions and simply put, was a misfit in a band of well-mannered human beings. For whatever reason, she couldn't get herself to just nod her head and agree to the senseless discussions that usually occurred at these events; she almost always needed to know the why's and how's to the point that it got awkward.
