A Scandalous Proposition (5 page)

SIX

Dadi called Reema to her room early
the next day. Mira went with her, scowling as she remembered Ranbir’s
admonitions on the terrace the night before. It was none of his concern—she was
here to look after her sister and look after her was what she was going to do.

Dadi was having a cup of tea with Ranbir. She looked
questioningly at Mira, when the two girls came in. Mira went up to the old lady
and bent and touched her feet. Reema followed suit.

“Good morning, Dadi!” said Mira. “I thought I would come and
see you before I left for office.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see
Ranbir raise an eyebrow. She squared her shoulders defiantly. Who cared what he
thought?

“You don’t need to worry, you know,” said Mrs. Dewan gently
to Mira. “I will look after your sister. I won’t overwork her.”

Mira’s face flushed. “That’s not what…” she began clumsily,
then defensively, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we tend to over-protect Reema because
she’s the youngest. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,
beta
, I understand that. I like to
see a bit of family feeling. It’s good. But let Reema be now. She’s a big girl
and will handle my work quite efficiently, you’ll see,
haina
Reema?”
Reema nodded, breaking into a shy smile.

“Since you are here, why don’t you take some time off and
take your sister shopping?” cut in Ranbir. “She needs some new clothes if she
is going to go out with Dadi. And, please, Mira, smart and casual, and not
these fluttering draperies both of you seem to love so much. Pick up some
evening wear as well.”

Mira looked at him indignantly, eyes flashing in anger.
“What do you mean fluttering draperies? Just because we’ve been brought up to
wear traditional Indian clothes…”

Mrs. Dewan interrupted her tirade. “Why do the two of you
fight so much? Ranbir,
beta
, Reema is looking perfectly nice in her
churidar
-
kurta
,
why does she need new clothes? She looks just like a girl her age should look.”

Ranbir gave her a meaningful look, which Mira caught and
spurred her to greater fury. “Dadi, I thought a few Western outfits would be
good for when you two go for a formal dinner.”

“
Theek hai
,” said Mrs. Dewan, acquiescing. “I don’t
have too much work this morning anyway. Mira, I’ll tell you where to go. Remind
me to give you money.
Arre haan
, while you are about it, get a couple of
outfits for yourself as well. There might be times when we’ll need you as
well.”

“But I have a meeting with Dhruv at 11.30.” spluttered Mira.

“I’ll tell him you’ll be in later,” said Ranbir, giving her
a wicked look.

Dadi smiled after him as he walked out. “
Mera
beta
,
he thinks of everything,” she said fondly.

Mira looked dubious. She was not sure that was such a good
thing.

***

Some days later, Mira and Reema were at dinner with the
family.

“Maji,” Meenu Chachi said to Dadi, “I had called Panditji
today for the
havan
you wanted conducted for Tarun’s twenty-fifth
birthday.”

“
Haan
beta
, were you able to decide on a date?
It should be in the week of his birthday.”

“We have decided on Tuesday, on his birthday. Panditji says
that is the most auspicious day.”

“But Amma, we’re having a party on Tuesday!” protested
Tarun. “My friends will be most upset.”

“The
havan
will be in the morning,
betaji,
so
don’t worry!” said Chachi, laughing at her son’s dismay. “Plenty of time for
dancing-shancing and all that loud music I’m sure you will want!”

“Dancing-shancing, Amma?” asked Vasu, with a wicked glint in
her eye. “Are you planning to join in? Like last time?”

“And why shouldn’t she?” asked Ranbir. “My friends all
enjoyed dancing with her. They thought it was extremely sporting of her.”

Meenu Chachi glowed rosily at the compliment.

“Well, that’s settled then,” said Mrs. Dewan, looking around
her. “Reema, I shall want you to help Meenu in the preparations for the
havan
.
Meenu, I think you can let her make the
prasad
this time.”

Reema looked up in surprise. Meenu Chachi also looked
startled. “But Maji,” she remonstrated, “the
prasad
has to be made by a
member of the family!”

“Reema is as good as part of the family. Let her make the
prasad
!”
Dadi could be imperious when she wanted to be. Chachi kept quiet, only the
mutinous look on her face revealing her feelings. Dadi turned to Ranbir,
“Ranbir, I hope you’ll be in town? I want both you brothers to take part in the
havan
.”

“Yes, Dadi, I was supposed to go to Mumbai, but this rascal
made me change my plans.”

“You have to be here on my birthday, Bhai! How could you
have even made plans to be away?” retorted Tarun.

“He’s right for once,” said Vasu, laughing.

“
Chalo
bhai
, let’s discuss the menu for the
party now,” said Ajay Chacha, only to have his suggestion drowned out by a
clamor of voices telling him he had to watch his cholesterol levels. The meal
ended in a wave of laughter at Ajay's crestfallen expression.

***

A few days later, Dadi called Mira to her room. “There’s a
problem,” she said as Mira appeared. “Maharaj has drawn up a menu for Tarun’s
party the day after tomorrow. And Tarun is refusing to even consider it. Too
old-fashioned, he says. I don’t know what we are going to do.”

“I’ll cook!” said Mira immediately.

“Will you,
beta
?” asked the old lady. “I was hoping
you would say that.”

“Of course, I will,” said Mira. “And I’ll work with Maharaj
on it.”

Mrs. Dewan looked at her with warmth. “Thank you,
beta
,
I was hoping you would say that, too. You may need to appease Maharaj first. He
is a bit old fashioned, but he has been with us for many years and he suits us
just fine. He is very fond of Tarun and was most disappointed when Tarun
rejected his suggestions. Still, I can’t blame the boy either. I don’t think
Maharaj’s menu would have found favor with the young people at the party.”

“I’ll talk to Maharaj and find out what he had in mind,
shall I?” asked Mira. “Then I’ll talk to Tarun and see what he wants.”

“That will be good,” said Mrs. Dewan gravely. “God bless
you,
beta
!”

Mira went in search of Maharaj. It took her a bit of time to
mollify the aged family retainer, but once she had assured him that Tarun Baba
was not rejecting his offerings outright, merely wanting them modified a bit,
the old man was soon smiling once again.

Now Tarun,
she thought as she went up the stairs to
look for him. She found him with Reema on the balcony. “What on earth are the
two of you doing here together?” she hissed at them. “Suppose Chachi sees you?
As it is, she’s on the warpath after Dadi asked you to make the
prasad
!”

“Calm down, Di,” said Tarun, who had now, in Reema-fashion,
taken to calling her Di. “Amma’s gone out and won’t be back for an hour at
least.”

“Di, I was telling Tarun that I don’t think I should be
making the
prasad
if it hurts Amma.” Reema blushed rosily at the slip.
“But how can I refuse Dadi?”

“You can’t really,” said Mira frankly. “I really don’t know
what got into Dadi, making such a strange request. Chachi was really upset. But
hold on now, we’ll discuss that later. Have I news for you, Tarun! Dadi has
asked me to cook for your party.”

“Really, Di? Wow, that’s fantastic!” the two voices were one
in their exclamation.

“Isn’t it?” Mira beamed happily at them. “So now, Tarun, you
have to tell me what you want. I have Maharaj’s list with me. Shall we go
through it?”

Tarun’s face took on an obstinate expression. “I don’t want
those old-fashioned things he has suggested, Di.”

“Tarun, don’t be mean to the poor old man. He has known you
since you were a baby and he wants to contribute to your birthday. You can’t
dismiss him like that.”

“Well said, Mira,” came Ranbir’s voice from the door. Mira
flushed at the unaccustomed praise. “Little brother, that was not kindly done.”

“But Bhai…” began Tarun.

“Let it be, Tarun,” said Ranbir quietly. “It does not become
us to seek our pleasures even at the expense of hurting someone else,
especially someone who has been looking after us for so long.”

“I guess so, Bhai,” said Tarun reluctantly. “I shouldn't
have been so mean to Maharaj.”

Mira looked at both of them in surprise. She had not thought
that Ranbir would be so sensitive to the feelings of an old man who was not
even part of the family. And she had not known he wielded so much influence
over Tarun. Thank God he approved of Reema, she thought silently, otherwise it
would have ended in heartbreak for her for certain.

There was a sudden sound of loud voices downstairs. They ran
down to find Meenu Chachi on the sofa on the third floor, white-faced and
groaning. Dadi was sitting beside her. Mrs. Bagchi hovered close by, a glass of
water in her hand. Vasu was on the phone to Dr. Singh.

“Amma!” cried Tarun. “What happened?”

“
Arre beta
, I was climbing down the stairs in the
shop when I slipped. My foot twisted under me and now, the pain—it’s unbearable!”

“Show me,” said Ranbir, kneeling before Chachi and pushing
back her sari to reveal her ankle. It was horribly swollen.

“I’ve broken my foot!” and Chachi wailed as Ranbir probed
the tender area.

“No Chachi, I don’t think so. I think you’ve sprained it.
You did walk to the car from the shop, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but it hurt terribly,
beta
, I’m sure my ankle
is broken!”

“I’ve called Dr. Singh, Ma,” said Vasu, putting down her
mobile. “He’ll be here in a bit.”

“And to think of all the work I had planned for tomorrow! So
much to do! And Ajay will also return only tomorrow.
Hai
, how will I
manage now?!”

Chachi was working herself up into hysteria, when Reema
intervened. “Chachi,” she coaxed softly, “you sit here and tell me what to do
and I’ll do everything exactly as you want.”

Meenu Chachi just glared at her, refusing to be appeased.

When Dr. Singh came, he confirmed Ranbir’s diagnosis. “A
sprain,” he said. “Meenuji, you will have to rest your ankle completely for at
least three days. Apply hot compresses every few hours. I am prescribing some
painkillers for you. There could be a little fever, but don’t worry, it will be
injury related.”

“
Hai
!” moaned Chachi.

“Shall Ranbir and I help you to your room, Amma?” asked
Tarun. He was genuinely moved by his mother’s pain, thought Mira.

“Let her be here for some time,” said Dadi. “Take her up
after dinner. She will feel better if she’s amidst us all.”

It was late when Mira came up to bed. She had sorted out the
menu for the party to the satisfaction of both Maharaj and Tarun and arranged
with Dhruv to leave the cafeteria early the next day. She was tired, but still
excited about her preparations for tomorrow.

She had just fallen asleep when a slight sound woke her up.
Switching on the bedside lamp, she realized that Reema was not in the bed
beside her. Mira stifled a yawn. Where could Reema have gone at this hour? She
didn’t have to wonder for long. Reema was soon back.

“Where on earth were you?”

“Di, Chachi needed a fresh hot compress. I thought I would
check on that. It was lucky I did because Vasu, poor thing, had fallen asleep.
While I was heating the water for the compress, I thought maybe I should make
her a glass of hot milk with some
haldi
in it as well. You remember, Ma
used to make us drink
haldi-doodh
whenever we fell or got hurt?”

Mira gazed at her little sister in amazement. “Chhoti,” she
said finally, reaching out a hand to stroke Reema’s head. “You have indeed
grown up!” Then, “What did Chachi say?”

“She was okay. Even said thank you.”

“So you’re finally discovering the way to your ma-in-law’s
heart?” teased Mira, breaking into a grin.

“Shut up, Di! Go to sleep now!” But Reema was blushing
furiously.

≈

SEVEN

It was the day of the party. Mira
got up early to finish the cooking before the
havan
began. But when she
got to the kitchen, she found Reema already there, making the
halwa
that
would be distributed as
prasad
later. Maharaj was hovering anxiously
around her. Chachi was sitting in an armchair Reema seemed to have coaxed Tarun
into placing there, her foot propped up on a stool in front of her.

“Chachi,” Mira heard her saying as she entered, “you just
sit there and tell me in detail what to do and I’ll make the
prasad
exactly as you tell me.” Mira’s mouth fell open in wonder.
Sooji ka halwa
had been their Baba’s favorite sweet dish and Reema could make it blindfolded,
with one hand tied behind her. And here she was, asking Chachi how to make it!
Well done, little sister, she said silently to herself.

Once the
prasad
was made, Meenu Chachi was
transferred to the sofa, from where she instructed Reema on all the things she
needed to do to prepare for the
havan
.

“Chachi,” said Reema suddenly, “this
ghee
has something
in it. I don’t think we can use it for the
havan
.”

“
He
Ram! Bring it here and show me, child!” Chachi
almost got up, but a sudden twinge in her foot made her fall back with a moan.
Reema ran to her, “Why did you get up? I’ll just get a fresh hot compress for
you.”

“No, I’m all right,” said Chachi. “Go and ask Maharaj for
the
puja
ghee
on the top shelf in the
bhandar
and use
that.” When Reema came back with the right
ghee
, she was also carrying a
bowl of hot water and a cloth. “Thank God you realized in time that it was the
wrong
ghee
,
beta
!” she said as Reema placed the hot compress on
her ankle. Oho, thought Mira, it was
beta
now, was it?

She was on her way to the kitchen when Ranbir waylaid her.
“Make sure Reema wears one of her new outfits in the evening,” he said softly.
“And you too…”

“Why…?” began Mira, but he put his finger on her lips and
silenced her.

“She’s already doing marvelous work on Chachi. In fact, Chachi
couldn’t have sprained her foot at a more opportune time. Get her to wear one
of her new dresses and the deal’s as good as sealed,” he promised before
vanishing as quietly as he had appeared before her.
Really!
thought Mira,
shaking her head.

When they all gathered together later in the morning for the
havan
, Dadi told Mira and Reema to sit with the family, rather than the
guests. Chachi raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Much later, Mira made her way to her room. She was tired,
but happy that everything was under control. All the hors d’oeuvres were ready
as were the dips that would accompany them. Maharaj had contrived to lay his
hands on some
kairi
even though they were out of season, so she had been
able to make a tangy green mango salsa as well as some spicy chutney for the
meal later at night.

Reema was standing before the wardrobe in their room,
rifling through the clothes that hung there. She turned around when she heard
Mira come in. “What do I wear, Di?” she asked. “The silk sari Baba got us last
Diwali? Would that be okay?”

“No, no, not a sari, Reema,” said Mira, going up to her.
“Let’s take a look at the dresses we got the other day. One of them would be
better, I think.”

“You really think so, Di? I don’t feel very comfortable in
them. You remember the silver dress I wore when I went with Dadi to the charity
auction the other day? Tarun said I looked very nice, but I felt it was a bit
short for me.”

“Look, Chhoti, the important thing is that Tarun thought you
looked good. And you did look beautiful. Tarun’s friends are going to come
today. Do you want to look out of place among them?”

“I know what you are saying, Di, but that dress was a bit on
the shorter side. I’m sure everyone at the auction was staring at my legs.”

“And those of a thousand other girls, probably,” laughed
Mira at her childishness. “Reema, really, you show more of your body when you
wear a sari, you know. Your waist, for one. And if you’re wearing the
choli
that you got made with the sari Baba gave you, then most of your back, too.
How’s it any different? Here, why don’t you try this one? Then we’ll see.”

Reema came out of the bathroom wearing the honey colored
shift with little golden specks in it. The cowl neck and the simple lines of
the dress gave her an elegance that belied her age. “Wow!” breathed Mira.
“That’s just perfect. You’re going to stun everyone at the party!”

Reema smiled at her through the mirror in which she was
examining herself. “It’s longer than the silver dress,” she said
contemplatively.

Mira rummaged in a drawer and took out a short golden chain
with a dark green stone hanging from it. “Here,” she said, fastening it around
Reema’s neck. “Just what you need. And wear the dark green sandals we got the
other day, the ones with the little bit of heel.”

Reema sighed happily. “What will you wear, Di?” she asked.

“Oh, any old thing,” laughed Mira. She had no intentions of
following Ranbir’s instructions to wear Western attire herself. It really was
none of his business. “After all, I’m going to be in the kitchen for the most
part. Whereas you, my darling sister, are going to be the belle of the ball
tonight.”

***

The party was in full swing. From the kitchen, where Mira
was putting last minute touches to the dinner, she could hear the sounds of
music and laughter. She smiled to herself. The hors d’oeuvres had gone down
well. Ajay Chacha had paid her lavish compliments on the Vada Manchurian. “One
day,” he had warned her, “you are going to make me a whole plateful of these
vadas
all for myself!”

“I’ll have to ask Chachi first,” she had teased back. She
had become quite fond of Ajay Chacha, who treated both Reema and her with such
warmth.

She looked around the kitchen. Was there anything else to be
done? Maharaj was chopping up coriander to garnish the dishes. “I’ll just check
on the rest of the arrangements,” she told him as she made her way to the
family dining room, which had been converted into a huge buffet for the
occasion. Mrs. Bagchi was there, checking on things, getting a maid to polish
some last minute additions. She smiled at Mira. “Everything’s ready here,” she
said, “but I’ll check once more just to be sure.”

“There you are!” said Ajay Chacha, walking into the room. “
Beta
,
isn’t it time you joined the party?
Bas, bahut ho gaya
. Everything is
perfect. You have indeed done us proud. Now I insist you come out into the
garden and join us.”

“No, no, Chachaji, Maharaj may need me.” Mira didn’t know
why, but she was hesitant to join in the fun and games taking place outside.

“I have checked with Maharaj. He says he will warm
everything up and place them here over the food warmers. So, there is nothing
for you to do.”

“I’ll help him do that,” said Mrs. Bagchi. Mira had no
choice but to trail after Chacha into the huge garden.
I hope Reema is
enjoying herself
, she thought, as she wandered towards the marquee set in
the middle of the lawns. Chacha had seen an acquaintance and moved off to say
hello.

A sudden crackle underfoot startled Mira and she almost lost
her footing in the soft grass. A hand appeared out of nowhere to steady her.
“Stumbling again?” Ranbir enquired softly, his eyes raking her up and down.
“These are not the clothes I asked you to wear?” he said, a frown settling into
his forehead.

“And why should I wear what you ask me to?” demanded Mira,
moving on. She was wearing a soft yellow silk
kurta
, with silver
zari
ambis
climbing down its front. Ma had made it for her out of an old sari of
hers and she loved it. Surprisingly, Ranbir did not follow her, as she had half
expected.

A space had been cleared in the middle of the marquee for
those who wished to dance. Mira looked at the people gyrating there and looked
away. She wished she could find another member of the family there—right now,
even Chachi would do.

The music suddenly changed beat as the DJ switched to
Bollywood remixes on someone’s request. Mira felt her foot tapping as one of
her favorite songs began to play. Tapping her foot turned to swaying her hips
and she soon found herself in the midst of the dancers, grooving and swinging
with the best of them. She couldn’t remember the last time she had danced. And
she loved to dance, especially to Bollywood songs. Song followed song and Mira
lost herself in the beat and tempo of the music.

The loud sound of applause brought her back to earth and she
looked around her in disbelief. She was alone on the dance floor—everyone else
had moved off to watch her. Blushing furiously, she moved hastily to one side,
trying to lose herself in the throng. Unfortunately, she found herself
confronting Ranbir, who had been watching her intently. “Well, well,” he said
sardonically, “who would have thought Little Miss Desi was hiding so much
dancing talent!”

Mira looked away, flushing. She had not meant to make a
spectacle of herself, to attract so much attention. “Please, Ranbir,” she said.
“Ajay Chacha asked me to join the party, that’s why I’m here.”

“I have no objections whatsoever to your being here,” he
replied smoothly. “Or to your little performance there, for that matter. In
fact, I’m rather enjoying discovering these hidden facets to your personality.”

“Ranbir, darling, there you are!” A tall, fair girl in a
little black dress and chestnut highlights in her swinging mane came up to
them. “This has to be the most happening party of the year,” she gushed, hand
going to rest proprietarily over Ranbir’s arm.

Mira took advantage of the moment to walk back to the
kitchen. This is where I belong, she thought a trifle resentfully. Nonetheless,
she couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips.

It was a while before she ventured out again. The lawns were
relatively empty because everyone was in the dining room, attacking the buffet.
The DJ was also taking a break. She had just reached the secluded path near
Dadi’s original rose garden when she heard a low sob, then Reema’s voice.
“Please let me go. I don’t want to drink that,” she was saying. Mira hastened
her pace to turn the corner into the rose garden. Reema was standing between
two young men, who, from the looks of them, were quite inebriated. One of them
had his arm around her and was pressing a glass of beer to her lips. Reema was
fending off the glass with one hand, squirming visibly under the arm around her
shoulder. The other man was laughing at her ineffectual attempts to make her
escape.

“You’re the hired help, aren’t you?” asked the man with the
beer glass, laughing lewdly.

“No, she’s a respected guest in this house, so leave her
alone,” said a level voice behind her. Mira ran to help her sister, but Ranbir
was quicker. “Go and find Tarun and Ram Singh,” he told her tersely, then
turning back, he said in a louder tone, his anger no longer reined in, “I said
let go of her!”

Mira did as she was told. She couldn’t believe what was
happening. She sent off a maid to find Ram Singh, the security guard, and went
in search of Tarun. It took her some time to find him and, as they hurried back
to the rose garden, she told him what had happened in a low voice. They
returned to find the drunken men blustering before Ranbir, threatening him in
loud voices. Reema was cowering behind Ranbir’s broad back, sobs shaking her
slender frame. Tarun ran to her and caught her up in his arms. One of the men
lunged at her. Ranbir’s fist shot out and caught him square on the jaw. He
staggered back, holding his jaw in astonishment.

“Ram Singh!” Mira could hear the tone of disgust in Ranbir’s
voice. “Throw these vermin out of the gate immediately. And remember their
faces—I don’t want to see them here ever again.”

The stocky guard who had run up to them shoved the two men
along towards the gate.

Mira went to Reema. “It’s okay, Chhoti, stop crying. Why
were you here alone with them?”

“It’s my fault, I told her to meet me here,” said a
white-faced Tarun.

“Stop this foolish drivel!” snapped Ranbir, his eyes
glittering dangerously. His face softened as he turned to Reema. “Reema,
sweetie, it’s over. You’re safe now.”

“Yes, but if you hadn’t…” choked Reema through her tears.
Ranbir took her face in both his hands and wiped away her tears. “But I was—and
that’s all that matters. Always remember, you are just like Tarun for me, and I
will always be there for you, just like I am for Tarun.”

Mira could feel the comfort and reassurance emanating from
the man and tears came unbidden to her eyes. She let out a long sigh. With
Ranbir standing by her, her timid little sister need never be afraid any more.
Suddenly, she felt Reema had taken a huge step away from her and towards the
Dewans that night. Even though she knew it was inevitable, it unsettled her.

***

It was that feeling of being unsettled that found her pacing
the terrace later that night. The party was over and Mrs. Bagchi was
supervising the servants in clearing things and putting them away. Reema, still
shaken, was in bed. Mira had sat by her, gently stroking her head as she
watched her drift off to sleep. But for Ranbir’s timely intervention, she could
have had a far greater misadventure than the scare she had had.

She sighed as she leaned against the parapet, her mind
wandering idly as she contemplated the changes that were taking place in her
life. The terrace had become a place of refuge for Mira. She loved the solitude
it afforded her and the wonderful green view it offered her of Delhi. She let
the slight breeze, with its hint of coming chill, soothe her mind, drawing her
dupatta
a little tighter around her to ward off its nip. Diwali was round the corner,
winter close behind. She turned away from the parapet and found herself
colliding into a broad chest, encased in an exquisitely cut jacket.