Five-Thirty AM - XLIV

The Wedding ....

Sunday, May 4th.

A small notice appeared in the local newspapers in a small community in Goa. Barely a column wide, the announcement was for the wedding of Noel J. Figueiredo with Mitul. Not many people associated the name with the movie star, Noel James. In fact, not many people knew that his real name was Noel James Figueiredo. But all that would change soon.

As planned, Noel’s movie was due to release in theaters some time in late July. Mitul’s book was also timed to hit the shelves during that same period. While the news of Noel’s engagement had been picked up by the news and gossip channels, pictures of the elusive fiancee were few and far between, with Dev keeping a tight lid on it. Even though both Noel and Mitul would be promoting the movie and the book respectively, the movie’s premier would be the their first public appearance as the new Mr. & Mrs. Noel James Figueiredo.

A name for the book had been finalized. Keeping with the theme of the names of Noel’s filmography, the book was now called ‘Sirf Mohabbat Hai’ - or It’s only Love. The cover picture was one of Noel in Canada - the one that Mitul took of him - a closeup that stamped him as a sexy matinee idol, as seen through the eyes of his wife-to-be.

******

Noel opened the door to find Mitul standing there. He’d just finished reading the draft of the biography which Dev had sent him that day. His eyes were still red and he was sombre. Going back to those days usually hit him hard. So, to see her when he was feeling low, was really good. She came inside and he followed her to the living room. She had barely put her stuff down, when he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

Seating her on the bed, he crawled into it and pulled her close, hugging her for comfort.

‘Noel,’ she was alarmed. ‘What’s going on? Please tell me?’ She clung to his shoulders.

He took a deep breath, before looking into her face. ‘Just read through the biography. So,’ he swallowed, his husky voice turning huskier still. ‘Just felt a bit low.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she held his face in her palms. ‘Sorry I put you through so much.’ She pressed her lips to his, asking him to let her in, and he did. For a long moment, they just tasted each other, not feeling the need to take it any further.

Finally, he drew back and sighed, his thumb rubbing hypnotically on her shoulder bone. ‘You know, Mitul, I needed that. I needed to find my way to you in my life. And I had to go through all of that so I could become an actor and you could finally find me. Cause you did. If you hadn’t been chasing me for months with your idea, if you had given up once on me, we’d never have been together,’ he husked.

She nodded. Perhaps the first time she’d seen him on screen, she’d realized how important he was to her, without quite knowing why.

‘But you know something?’ he continued, smirking at her. She raised an eye brow at him. Puzzled.

‘The story is not complete,’ he said. She sat up with a jerk.

‘What?! Noel James Figueiredo - how many more skeletons do you have in your closet?’ She asked in horror.

‘Actually,’ he thought for a moment, shook his head and then said, ‘no. None.’

‘Then?’

‘You, me - our story isn’t there,’ he said. ‘Our Love Story.’

She stared at him. ‘You want me to put our story in there? Really?’

He looked at her annoyed face, and kissed her beautiful pouty mouth. ‘No, I want the name of the book to be, ‘Sirf Mohabbat Hai’. Because if anybody asks me, what next? I want to tell them, sirf mohabbat hai. From now on in my life, it’s only love. You, me, our love, for always.’ His eyes telling her that this was a promise he was going to keep.

She held his face in her hands and whispered, ‘Noel James Figueiredo, why’m I the writer and you the actor? It should’ve been the other way around.’

They both laughed at that, before finding new ways to show how they loved each other. That was also the day Noel began thinking of how he was going to ask her to spend the rest of her life with him.

*****

Mitul had a fitting for her wedding dress today. Thankfully, it was at home.

When Rishik had heard about Noel’s engagement, he’d told Noel that all of Mitul’s and his wardrobe for the different rituals, as well as the wedding itself, would be RR designs. He wouldn’t have it any other way. This was his and Mitzy’s wedding gift to them. Both Noel and Mitul had been touched by the gesture.

However, Myna had a little surprise for them. She took Mitul aside and said, ‘Mitul Di, can I say something?’

‘Sure, Myna,’ Mitul was wondering why Myna was looking so hesitant.

‘Mitul Di, I know RR designs is giving you all the wedding outfits. But, I wanted to show you something. Will you look at it?’ She still seemed reluctant to spit out what was on her mind.

‘Of course, Myna,’ Mitul said.

Myna handed her a design. It was a lehenga designed like a wedding dress. The flaring skirt was paneled and intricately embroidered. The choli was fitted like the top of a wedding gown, leaving a hint of waist showing. The dupatta had been repurposed as a veil, and it too, was heavily embroidered. The colors were white with red and gold accents. Mitul couldn’t believe her eyes. It was beautiful!

‘It’s gorgeous, Myna. But, wouldn’t you like to keep this design for yourself?’ she asked.

‘Mitul Di, it’s just my way of saying thank you to you. For helping me find myself and Dev,’ for the two were now dating, much to Kuntala’s pleasure and pride. ‘This is from us,’ she blushed.

Mitul hugged her, tears in her eyes and said, ‘I would absolutely love to wear this! Its perfect!’

Since they would be marrying in a church, she’d been worrying about how she would carry off a gown. But this was the perfect solution!

And so Rishik had been informed that the one dress the bride had already chosen was the wedding dress itself. He very graciously bowed down to that, mainly because Mitzy drilled it into his head that a girl has the right to choose that ONE dress, because it is HER day.

To which he’d replied with mock astonishment, ‘why didn’t you tell me this before? I would never have designed your wedding outfits myself!’

His wife gave a sweet smile, knocked his head and replied, ‘silly. How could I choose any one else’s design? The only wedding dress I ever wanted to wear HAD to be designed by you.’

He shook his head, not quite getting her logic, but understanding his wife was still beyond him, he’d come to that realization long ago.. So he did the only thing he could. Kissed her hard and said, ‘thank you for that!’

*****

Saturday, June 1st. 5:25 p.m.

It wasn’t the wedding of the year. Neither Noel and Mitul wanted it that way. It was to be a wedding of the hearts, and two families that would now be united with the union of their children. The reception would be held later at the Figueiredo’s house. All the pre-wedding rituals had been performed according to Hindu rituals. But the actual marriage ceremony itself would be Catholic.

Noel stood at the altar, dressed in a pale grey-green tuxedo. The cummerbund was a deeper shade more green than grey, bringing out the green in his eyes. The pristine white pleated shirt had tiny pearl buttons, and was topped with a dark bow-tie. A white orchid buttonhole sat in his lapel.

Beside him stood Dev, his best man, dressed in a dark grey tuxedo, with a white shirt and a pale grey bow tie.

The altar had been decorated like a gazebo, with white flowers all over. Each of the pews had been decorated with the same white roses and white silk ribbons.

The massive front door of the church swung open, as the majestic strains of ‘Here comes the bride’ rang through the church. Everyone stood up, and Noel turned around to look at his bride.

First Naveen and Shelley walked in arm-in-arm, followed by Naval and Pakhi. Myna followed, flanked by the twins holding her hands, each proudly carrying a little heart shaped red satin cushion on which rested a ring tied to it with thin white satin ribbons. They walked to the altar, the men moving over to Noel’s side, while the women stood on the other.

Finally, the bride walked in, one hand looped in her father’s arm, the other holding a bouquet that dripped white lilies and red roses. Her face was covered with the heavy veil, but she kept her head high as she walked slowly down the flower-petal strewn aisle.

At the altar, her father put her hand in Noel’s, stepping back, giving his daughter away to the man who would promise to love, honor and cherish her all his life.

Noel had been mesmerized as Mitul walked down the aisle. In keeping with tradition, he hadn’t seen the wedding dress before, and he was amazed at just how beautiful it was. He could barely see her face through the embroidery on the dupatta. But he could see the glint of diamonds on her belly ring, which peeked through the bottom of her choli. He kept his grin hidden from the rest of the world.

As the clock read 5:30 p.m., the padre began the ceremony. ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...’

As the they repeated their vows, their voices low but strong, many in the room wiped their eyes. As they gazed into each others eyes, holding onto each other’s hands, all that witnessed them, knew this was a love that would last a lifetime. And when they finally said, ‘I do!’, the whole congregation knew they did mean each and every single vow they’d taken that day.

Noel slipped the simple gold band onto her finger, he looked into her eyes, and swallowed. He could feel her hand trembling and he squeezed it just a little to let her know. This journey that they were starting here today, was going to be a lifetime’s journey. She smiled up at him then, glowing as she placed the ring on his finger in turn. He would wear it proudly from this day forward, her mark on him.

They finally left the church to the strains of ‘The Wedding March’, confetti and rice, and the pealing bells rang out the good news. The bride and groom glowed, holding hands and smiling, and definitely not paying heed to the cries of 'Kiss! Kiss!!'

*****

The reception was everything that Goans are known for. Dancing, music, food, fun and more fun. The champagne flowed freely. The bride and groom danced. The best man danced with the maid of honor, who happened to be his girlfriend. The two ushers danced with their wife/girlfriend.

Rishik however, refused to dance with his wife - for two reasons. Rishik hated to make a spectacle of himself, so he refused to dance as a rule. Secondly, he didn’t want his wife to exert herself, despite her assertion that she was perfectly fit, as attested by her glowing looks; and that at three months, she could do with a little dancing. So they moved around, mingling with the family, while she mentally mumbled all the dire things she would do to him when they were alone.

Rishik had also seen something that caught his eye, and he needed more information. So he finally pulled Pakhi aside and asked her, ‘who designed the wedding lehenga?’

‘That was designed by Mitul’s cousin, Myna,’ she pointed out Myna, who was dancing with her head on Dev’s shoulder.

‘Dev’s girlfriend?’ Pakhi nodded. ‘She’s good. Did you know she was a designer?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I did,’ said Pakhi. ‘She’s working for a small boutique firm in Mumbai right now, as a junior designer, though.’

Rishik raised an eyebrow. What a waste, he thought! The girl was clearly talented. That perfect mix of Indian and Western was something that he always looked for. The wedding dress had nailed it to a T. He waited until Dev and Myna were leaving the floor, when he walked up to them. Mitzy, he checked, was deeply engrossed with some of the women folk, making friends quickly, as she always did.

‘Hey, Dev,’ Rishik held out a hand.

‘Rishik, good to see you. Glad you could make it,’ he responded, shaking hands. He didn’t really know Rishik very well, so he was a little surprised to be waylaid by him. Remembering his manners, he turned to Myna and said, ‘Myna. This is Rishik Rathod, Naval’s friend.’

Her eyes widened as she heard the name. She had known that he would be at the wedding! Being in the same industry, she’d obviously heard a lot about him, but hadn’t expected him to come up and talk to them.

‘Rishik, this is my girlfriend, Myna Imani,’ Dev continued with the introductions, as Rishik held out his hand.

She shook it and said, ‘so honored to meet you, Mr. Rathod. Big fan of your work.’

‘Thank you,’ he replied, smiling a little. ‘Pakhi tells me you designed the wedding dress?’ he asked coming straight to the point.

‘Yes, yes, I did,’ Myna said, feeling a little anxious. After all, Mitul had picked her design over his!

Rishik nodded. ‘I could do with some new designers at the Mumbai design office we’re opening up. Pity you’re working with another firm, right now.’

She looked at him, intimidated by his arrogant demeanor, especially now that she was in the category of a fan.

Dev was listening to the conversation with interest. It was apparent that Rishik had chosen to be introduced to Myna because he had designs on her designs. This was just the bait. But he wasn’t going to step in until Myna needed it.

‘I’m sorry?’ Myna asked. From somewhere she got her spine back, lifted her chin and said, ‘did you want to ask me something, or is it your habit to beat around the bush?’

Dev hid a grin, silently applauding her. He didn’t think Myna was going to need his help with Rishik. She was more than capable of holding her own. Especially with a man known for his direct, honest approach. He knew it would win brownie points with Rishik. And he was right.

Rishik smirked. ‘I would like you to come work for RR designs as a full-fledged designer, not just a junior one, as I believe you are now. The choice of course, is yours,’ he added as an afterthought.

He waited for a reply, while Myna stared at him. Like that? She had an offer with RR Designs just like that? 'I'll think about it,' she said, finally.

‘Good,’ said Rishik. ‘We’ll be in touch with you.’ With that, he strode away, happy to have some more good come out of this trip.

Myna stared at his retreating back and said, ‘Huh?’

Dev smiled, put an arm around her waist and said, ‘it means you have a job offer, from RR designs.’

‘But how’s he going to get in touch with me? He didn’t even ask me for my details,’ she looked affronted.

Dev smirked, much the way Rishik had. ‘He’s got the means to find out everything about you, my love. And right now, he’s probably on the phone, talking to his EA.’ She looked at him questioningly. ‘Executive Assistant,’ he elaborated, ‘asking him to make up the offer letter, and mail it to you.’

Which was exactly what Rishik was doing, until he spotted his wife glaring at him, as she made her way through the crowd.

‘You!’ she hissed coming to a stop in front of him. ‘D’you have to work even at a wedding? I know who you’re on the phone with.’

‘Babe, I just found a new designer. I had to get to her before anyone else did. That’s all!’

‘Really? You’re thinking about getting a new designer while we’re at a wedding? Wait till we get back to the hotel,’ she fumed.

‘Why? What’re you gonna do?’ he asked as he looped an arm around her, leading her into a slow, seductive dance on the floor, smiling into her eyes.

‘Nothing,’ she said, tilting her head to look up into his face with stormy eyes. ‘Absolutely nothing. I will do nothing to you.’

He raised his eyebrows at that. ‘Are you telling me? Or challenging me? Because if you’re challenging me,’ he brought his mouth down close to her ear, and whispered, ‘I WILL take you up on it. And we’ll be doing a lot more than nothing!’ he promised her, smiling as he took in the blush on her cheeks, her anger completely annihilated by his words.

*******