For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll

It was a simple affair, exactly as Rishi had desired. Only the closest family and friends in his favourite Krishna temple to witness his wedding to the lovely Sharmila were invited. His parents had arranged the match and he had met Sharmila informally in a cafe. He had communicated his willingness the same evening, but Sharmila's family had taken some time to respond, citing her professional commitments and travel as reasons for being unable to decide quickly. After the informal 'fixing' of the wedding too, her parents had preferred to conduct the wedding right away instead of delaying the actual event with a 'meaningless engagement'. "Can we have a simple wedding but a grand reception as we are going at breakneck speed," her father had asked politely, much to Rishi's mother's dissatisfaction. "We didn't ask for the wedding to be rushed! He is an only son, so we would like to call our relatives..." she had insisted.

Till then silent Sharmila called him that evening. "If we miss the date already fixed, we can get married only after six months. I have a training session for a new role I am taking up..."

"Hey!" he had been thrilled to hear her voice so unexpectedly. "I don't mind the wait, but if you are so keen, then we could do it right away!" he assured her.

"I don't mind the wait either. But my parents do... My elder sister is due to have a child soon after... We can always marry next year and get engaged now," she responded with what he thought as extreme reasonableness.

"I wouldn't want my in-laws to be so discomfited. Let's be done with the wedding," he assured her and spoke to his mother Sudha with his usual sense of humour. "Ma, you have been waiting for a bride, and her family seems to be in a hurry to hand her over to you. What's holding you back? We will rip them off during the reception, okay?"

"What is their hurry, that is my concern," she said smartly. 

"Don't be suspicious, mom! On the one hand, you worry that girls are not agreeing to getting married these days. And when someone is, you wonder why!"

"And what happens after marriage? You said she had to be in some training. Is that out of town?"

"No, she didn't say anything about that," he said, feeling a little uneasy. He had been so eager to reassure her that he had not probed her on the details. "I will ask her when I speak to her next."

"She is not very forthcoming, is she, Rishi?" his mother asked softly. 

"How were you, mom, when you were getting married?" he asked her affectionately. 

His mother smiled fondly at the memory and became nostalgic. Rishi listened with half a heart, wondering if he should be a little more insistent that Sharmila and he meet at least couple of times a week. He called her again later that evening and asked, "We never get a chance to meet. I know... I know you have deadlines... I love your dedication to work…”

She demurred, told him of her hectic schedule and finally, reluctantly, agreed to meet him. Rishi couldn’t complain. She was demure, reticent and engrossed in her coffee while he was engrossed in her, the challenge of getting her to smile. He realised she was shy and reticent. But when she looked at him and smiled, time stopped still. The fact that didn’t have selfies as proof of their dates or a raging kiss to seal their love didn’t bother him. All he wanted was to see her smile. After marriage, there would be time for everything else.

And here they were, at the temple, waiting for the priest to officiate the marriage. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, dressed so prettily in a light pink sari, her hair plaited traditionally and flowers adorning it gracefully.

“No! I will not allow this! I will not allow you to do this to another woman!” Suddenly a young girl came running towards him angrily. “How dare you cheat me and now get married to somebody else!” she screeched. Even the regular temple goers stopped to watch. Sharmila and her family looked baffled. His mother looked at him stunned. Then she turned to the girl, “My son is not like that.” But her voice shook and was drowned by the girl’s angry rebuttal, “What do you know about your son?”

In a minute, Rishi’s life came crumbling down. He stepped forward as if in a dream, sought Sharmila out, and was ashamed to see her hiding behind her parents, avoiding meeting his eye. “Please believe me, I don’t know this girl!” he beseeched. Sharmila’s father stepped forward and stopped him. “Please, please don’t humiliate my daughter further. You have shamed her in front of strangers, and you can do nothing to atone for this!”

“Speak to me, man!” the girl demanded, drawing his attention back to her.

“Look,” he said, his anger rising slowly. “I don’t know who you are and why you are doing this. I don’t think I have ever set my eyes on you…” His friends stood around him in a display of solidarity.

“Oh, really! Then what is this?” she demanded and showed him her phone. There they were, grinning and together. He frowned, felt giddy, wondering if he was suffering from amnesia. She flipped through her gallery, and there were a few more of them together. He clutched his forehead and reeled. His mother fainted.

“Sharmila,” one man stepped forward. “I will kill this man for doing this to you,” he said in a suppressed tone of anger.

“I will kill her if she marries him,” her father intervened.

Sharmila started crying openly. “I am feeling humiliated! How can I show my face to anyone after this! I will be the laughing stock!”

“No, no, Sharmila! I will not let you be alone in this moment of grief. If you will have me, I will marry you right here and now!” the man went on a knee.

“Oh, Vicky! Don’t! Don’t do this for my sake!” Sharmila pleaded, running to him. Her parents looked at Rishi triumphantly, “My daughter is a gem. She was not keen to marry you at all, but we thought your family background was good so you would be the ideal match for her. I realise now that I had been hasty,” her father told Rishi pointedly and then blessed the couple. Sharmila was suddenly someone else’s wife within minutes in the very temple where Rishi had hoped to begin his new life.

His mother started wheezing and had to be hospitalised. His father Kapil refused to talk to him, shocked that his son could have done this to a girl. His relatives and friends started distancing themselves from him. Though the crowd had been small, news of his deception spread like wildfire. His office too put him on notice.

But of the girl, there was no trace after that day. He wondered if she was mentally ill and needed care. Had she mistaken him for someone else? Did she bear a grudge against Sharmila and do this?

There was not a soul he could convince about this. “Where is she now, ma? Why isn’t she around to make me marry her?” he asked in frustration seeing his last hope vanishing. His mother replied quietly, “I told her to get married to you then and there, but she said she never ever wanted to see you after the way you had treated her.”

Something died inside him, like a switch being turned off. He could cope with anything - losing friends, losing his job, losing his self-respect. But not his mother turning her face away from him.

He got up slowly and walked aimlessly. He stood at the precipice, darkness slowly engulfing him. His parents didn’t understand if his death was an admission of guilt, or the plea of innocence.

The doorbell rang, promising yet another visitor offering condolences. They dreaded nothing more than the uncomfortable silence, the awkward expression of sympathy and the hurried departure.

So they were surprised to see a stranger standing there with the girl who had accused Rishi of cheating her. Kapil let them in silently.

“We have come to atone for my daughter’s behaviour,” the stranger said. “My daughter falsely accused your son so that the wedding could be stopped and Sharmila could marry the man she loved… I can only beg you to forgive her for her misplaced sense of loyalty. She has not been able to sleep since then and told me only now about it… I brought her along right away…”

He stopped, seeing Kapil crumple up on the sofa. Behind him stood Rishi’s photograph, framed and with a garland.