‘What?’ I turned to Riya.
‘I told you, you don’t want to know.’
I composed myself and summoned the resolve to read the full
card. It went like this: Shri Vishnu Somani and Shrimati Kala Devi
Somani humbly invite you to the wedding of their granddaughter So.
Riya Somani
(d/o Mr Mahendra Somani and Mrs Jayanti Somani) with Chi. Rohan
Chandak
(s/o Late Shri Manoj Chandak and Jamna Bai Chandak) on 25
January 2007 at 8p.m.
at the Taj Palace Hotel, Delhi Programme and RSVP details
attached. Request no gifts.
I didn’t read the other cards in the box, which had details of the
other ceremonies. I simply sat there frozen. I clutched the silk pouch
like a stress ball and looked straight ahead.
‘It happened so fast,’ Riya said.
I remained quiet. Shock waves ran through me. Numb, I traced the
golden embroidery on the pouch.
‘A part of me can’t believe it is happening,’ she said, to fill the
awkward silence.
‘You’re getting married?’ I whispered, my tone unusually calm, my
gaze still averted.
‘In two months,’
I smirked and turned to her. ‘Wow, Riya. I’ve never faced such a
dodge, even on the basketball court.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I wanted us to be friends again. But you are leaving college.
Getting married.’
‘That’s life, I guess.’
‘You’re nineteen.’
‘Will turn twenty after the wedding, later the same year.’
‘Have you gone mad, Riya?’
‘You’ve lost the right to talk to me like that,’ she said.
ff
(ff)
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