Five-Thirty AM - XLV

The Party Continues

Naval twirled Pakhi around as they moved to the beat of the salsa. Both were natural dancers, and loved to dance with each other. He pulled her close, and with his hands on her waist asked her what she was thinking of.

She had had a distracted look on her face all evening and it worried him.

She looked up at him, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief and said, ‘nothing that I can’t tell you about tonight.’

‘Tell me,’ he urged, drawing her close to his chest, swaying at half the beat.

‘I was thinking,’ she drawled.

‘What about?’ he asked patiently.

‘I think I would like an October wedding, maybe,’ she narrowed her eyes, looking up at him, to check his reaction.

He stopped. Standing still right there in the middle of the dance floor. Looking at her hopefully. For so long he’d waited patiently to hear those words from her. Now that she’d finally said it, a slow smile spread on his face.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked, moving again the music.

She laid her head on his shoulder, facing him and said, ‘very sure. I’ve been sure for a while. But now, it seems like the perfect time. I’m ready to have my own family.’ Teardrops glittered on her lashes. He swooped down, and placed his lips on her eyes.

She swallowed and looked up at him. ‘Can we have babies right away?’ she asked.

He laughed low and incredulously, ‘babies? Just how many do you want?’

‘At least three,’ she whispered. ‘I want a full house, Naval.’

‘You really are sure about this, aren’t you?’ he asked.

She nodded, tucking her face into his neck.

He smiled. ‘Okay.’

‘Just okay?’ she looked up again.

‘Whatever you want. I can never say no to you, you know that.’ He said lovingly, tenderly.

‘I know,’ she whispered. He kissed her cheek before taking her hand and drawing her away from the crowds.

*******

The cake was finally wheeled out and amidst whistles and cheers, Noel and Mitul cut through the cake, feeding each other, and taking time to lick each other’s fingers clean, despite all the suggestive comments flying around them. Then there was more dancing, a buffet quaking under the weight of food, and a pair of twins who were up to no good, aided and abetted by a new friend.

Piya and Jiya had been delighted to meet Mitzy. She were somewhere in between them, not as mischievous as Piya but not so quiet as Jiya either. She had a husband who obviously adored her, and who she in turn, loved to bits. She was also closer in age to them, and so the girls bonded easily, over ice cream.

‘So are they having the whole Suhaag-Raat thing or no?’ asked Mitzy. This obvious blend of Hindu-Christian customs was a little confusing to her. Since Mitzy herself was half-American by birth, she’d been brought up with Hindu customs, but was very familiar with Christian customs too.

‘I believe so,’ Piya said. ‘We should probably go ask Shelley and see what they’ve done. We did mention that it was our custom.’

‘And are you’ll going to steal his shoes?’ Mitzy asked.

‘Really, Mitzy, can you see Noel taking off his shoes?’ Jiya asked. ‘Not a chance.’

‘He’s taken off that cummerband though. Must have been bothering him,’ Piya added.

‘Rishik was refusing to wear a sherwani for our wedding. I think he would have preferred to have been in a suit for the second one, too.’

‘Second one?’ Piya asked.

‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘We had two weddings,’ Mitzy dug her spoon into her bowl. ‘One in the US, which was a civil wedding, and then one here in India, because his family wanted us to have the whole traditional thing. Mitul did a smart job. She did an all-in-one!’ she exclaimed, plopping the spoon into her mouth.

The other two laughed with her.

‘So how about, we give Noel a little taste of Jeeju-Saali relationship?’ asked Piya, watching Noel and Mitul sitting close, their heads together as he held her hand.

‘I’m game,’ said Jiya.

Mitzy looked from one face to another, and grinned. ‘I’m game, too. After all, I’m like his bhabi. It’s my right.’

The three of them went inside to check on the preparations for the Suhaag Raat. The room had indeed been decorated beautifully by Shelley and Pakhi. The bed was flower strewn. The candles were, as yet unlit. But otherwise the room was ready for the newly weds.

*****

The guests had all left, except for the Rathods. Mitzy had entrenched herself firmly into the Figueiredo clan, so Rishik had perforce to stay back.

It was time for Mitul to throw the bouquet, before she was led inside for her suhaag raat. She stood at the top of the steps leading into the house, and looked at the sea of faces in front of her. Taking note of where Pakhi was, she decided to aim her bouquet at her. Myna stood a little to the side, taking in the scene.

Kuntala had asked Kamini what this “ritual” meant. When Kamini explained that the girl who got the bouquet would be the one getting married next, she hurried over, making her way to stand right behind Myna.

Mitul turned around and amidst chanting of ‘Three!... Two! ... ONE!!’ She threw the bouquet over to where she knew Pakhi was standing.

In the mad scramble to get to the bouquet, Myna felt someone shove her forward. She stumbled forward, trying to stay on her feet, before she fell flat on her face. She put her hands out to hold on to something, and the bouquet landed in her hands! At the same time, two strong arms grab her around the waist, preventing her from falling. They held on to her dead weight, and then pulled her upright, her back hitting a hard chest. She knew who it was without even turning her head.

Kuntala was almost beside herself with joy! She’d shoved Myna at exactly the right moment and she had stumbled forward. Not only had she caught the bouquet, Dev had also saved her from falling! Thanks to the Goddess! She’d done it right! Now nothing would stop them from getting married. Of course, she’d been overjoyed when she’d heard that they were dating. But then, he didn’t seem to want to propose to her daughter. So her justification for the shove, was a push in the right direction.

Everyone crowded around Myna, teasing her, till her cheeks resembled the strawberry color of the lehenga she had worn.

Only one voice filtered through. As he bent his head to help her stand, he murmured in her ear, ‘that’s cheating, you know.’ He’d put her on her feet and disappeared. After a few moments, she followed Mitul and her entourage of Shelley, the twins, Pakhi and Mitzy into the house.

As she walked in, a strong hand came out and pulled her away from the group moving towards Noel’s room. He dragged her upstairs, not stopping till he came to the terrace door, opened it and stepped outside. Then he shut the door on the outside world.

*****

They settled Mitul on the bed, arranging her lehenga so it spread in a circle around her. They lit the candles in the room and threw some more flower petals around her. Finally they declared her ready for Noel. They left and shut the door.

Outside, Piya quickly explained her plan to Shelley and Pakhi. Noel had carried money with him, having seen and even acted in these kinds of scenes so he wouldn’t be unprepared. Shelley called Naveen and said, ‘Okay. You can send Noel in.’

Five minutes later, Noel strode down the corridor. He’d already untied his bow tie and the ends hung from his collar, his tuxedo was unbuttoned, and a few of the pearl buttons of his shirt were also opened. In short, he was ready for bed. He came to a halt in front of his room. A group of women stood in front of the door, including Mitzy.

‘See, Noel, you can’t go in there right now,’ started Piya.

He shook his head. ‘Piya, you know me better than that. Name a figure,’ he said.

She pretended to think for a minute and came up with one. He nodded his head thoughtfully. ‘Okay,’ he said, taking out a bundle of notes from his jacket pocket and handing it over. ‘I think that’ll more than cover you. Now if I may please go and see my wife?’

‘Sure,’ said Piya stepping aside, after plucking the bundle out of his hand.

As he put his hand on the door knob, Jiya said, ‘by the way, Jeeju. You know that we’ve had this wedding with a mix of cultural traditions.’

He looked at her, trying to understand what she was getting at, completely missing the snickers from the rest of the group, who tried hard to keep a straight face.

‘Noel, our custom is that after the ... ah ... wedding night ..’ she stopped helplessly looking up at him. She looked at the others, as if for help.

‘What she means to say, Noel, is that in the Imani tradition, after the wedding night, the next morning the sheets are examined by the elders. Just to check, you know, if the marriage was consummated or not,’ Shelley explained with a concerned look on her face.

‘But mostly to prove that the bride was you know, untouched, before,’ Mitzy elaborated, nodding her head seriously.

‘What?!’ Noel raked his hands through his hair. Mitul had never mentioned any such thing to him. In fact, if he remembered right, she hadn’t even ... He looked at Jiya with something like panic in his throat, his heartbeat accelerating. ‘Jiya, is this true?’

She nodded solemnly.

‘But that shouldn’t worry you, should it, Noel?’ said Shelley laying a comforting arm on his shoulder, smiling at him.

‘No. No.’ Good Lord! Now what? He’d have to go talk to Mitul. His face was ashen. He took a deep breath, all thoughts of a night spent making love to Mitul driven completely out of his mind.

‘In that case, Noel, shouldn’t you be going inside? After all, your bride is waiting for you,’ said Pakhi.

Wait a minute! he thought. They all suspected, if not knew that Mitul and he had been intimate, so why this now?

‘Uh-uh,’ he said firmly. ‘You guys are pulling my leg.’

‘Noel, why would we do that?’ asked - of all people - Jiya. He looked at her, her solemn eyes, and then she drove the stake in. ‘Maasi-Mausa don’t know,’ she dropped her voice.

‘What?!’ Noel was really panicking now. He swallowed.

‘Go on in, Noel, and talk it over with Mitul. I’m sure she’s aware of this,’ Pakhi opened the door and shoved him inside, shutting the door behind him.

Half way down the hall they split the money, cackling with glee at Noel’s expressions, when Piya looked around. ‘Where did Myna go? I thought she was coming with us?’

***** 

Myna was on the terrace. She was irate. With Dev. Who stood looking at her with a smug smirk on his face.

‘Cheating?’ she asked him, arms akimbo. Well, one arm that is, the other still held on to the bouquet. ‘What d’you mean cheating?’

‘You grabbed the bouquet. You ran for it,’ he said.

‘I didn’t! Someone pushed me,’ she protested. ‘I was falling. You saw that.’

He went on as if she hadn’t spoken at all. ‘Myna, If you wanted to be the next bride, you could’ve told me. I totally understand. We’d have gone and got married,’ he said mildly, arms folded across his chest.

‘Excuse me?’ she flared. ‘Married? I need to be asked before I agree to get married!’

‘I see. Does that mean you don’t want to?’ he smirked at her.

‘Of course, I do,’ she stamped her foot. ‘But first you’ve got to ask me,’ she put her nose up in the air.

‘I thought I just did,’ he said, biting his cheek to keep from smiling. She was so cute when she was angry.

‘Huh?’ She looked at him, eyes wide, flashing, cheeks red. Uh-oh, he thought. Danger signals. ‘When did you ask?’

‘Just now. I thought I said,-’

‘I know what you said,’ she was getting madder by the second.

He sighed, looking bored, his eyes amused. ‘So, what is it? Do you want to get married or don’t you?’

‘What kind of a proposal is that anyway?’ she huffed.

‘A good one, I think. We care about each other, we’ve been dating for a while, so it just makes sense to get married now,’ he shrugged.

‘Argh!’ She stomped to the other end of the roof, and stomped back again, at least as much stomping as you can do in a pair of four-inch heels.

‘Dev Karmakar,’ she poked him in the chest with one long finger, much to his amusement. ‘You are THEE most infuriating man I know,’ she gritted, jabbing his chest with each word to make her point.

He grabbed her hand, and yanked her close holding it between them, vaguely thinking about the bruises he’d have on his chest from all that poking.

‘So what do you want?’ he murmured, in a flash changing the mood to one in which a silvery thread of sexual tension pulled them close.

She looked at him, first at those eyes, framed in those long lashes, and then his mouth that could wreak such magic on her!

‘You,’ she whispered, licking her lips.

‘Marry me?’ he asked, still in the same warm voice, his eyes focused on her lips, his mind clouding over with Chanel No.5.

‘No,’ she whispered, leaning into him.

‘Why not?’ his voice was harsh.

She spun away from him, his hand clamped on her wrist, not letting her go.

‘Because I ..’ she stopped. She didn’t want to tell him what she wanted. He had to figure it out by himself. That’s what a man does, she thought. So, she turned back to him and said brightly, breaking the spell.

‘Because I want the whole nine yards for a proposal. A big date. Candles. Flowers. Champagne. The works,’ she waved the bouquet in her hands to denote what she meant by the works.

He pulled her into his chest again. One arm glided around her, as he leant in close to her lips, his palm splayed against the bare skin of her waist.

‘On one condition,’ his lips almost touched hers as he formed the words.

‘What?’ she asked, dazed.

‘You don’t get to say no.’ He dropped a quick kiss on her lips, just giving her a taste, feeling her melting before he pulled away and looked into her darkening eyes. ‘When I ask for your hand, Myna Imani, I won’t take no for an answer.’

He released her, opened the door and walked away.

She had been warned. She wouldn’t know what hit her.

***** 

Noel stumbled into his room. He tore off his jacket still wondering if they were playing some sort of joke on him.

‘Mitul,’ he said hoarsely. He barely noticed how beautiful she looked surrounded by the flowers and the candles, his thoughts clouded by anxiety about the next morning.

She shoved back her dupatta to see Noel pacing the room. ‘What?!’

‘Mitul, we have a problem,’ he sat down next to her, his brows pulled together in a frown.

‘Noel, what is it? Tell me.’ She caught his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her, her own heartbeats starting to race in anxiety.

‘Jiya told me that there’s an Imani tradition for tomorrow morning,’ he began, wondering how best to couch it.

‘What? What tradition?’ she asked bewildered.

‘The ah.. sheets,’ he tried again.

‘Sheets?’ she was even more puzzled by his words.

‘Jiya told me that the elders examine the sheets to see whether the marriage has been consummated or not,’ he said in a rush.

She stared open-mouthed at him and then shoved him hard, so he nearly went sprawling off the bed. To his utter amazement, she burst out laughing. She laughed so hard, tears flowed out of her eyes. She held her stomach doubling up with laughter, until Noel finally got it. He started chuckling, as she calmed down and giggled every now and then.

‘Dear God!’ she said between giggles, ‘you believed the twins? Really Noel, you’ve known them as long as you’ve known me. And they still got you!’

‘Oh! it was a whole group of them,’ he told her. ‘They took money from me and then told me this. Shelley, Pakhi, even Mitzy was there. How could I not think it was authentic?’ he said, still trying not to grin at his own stupidity and naivete for having fallen for a stupid trick.

Once they sobered down, he looked at her, his eyes taking on the narrowed intense look he gave her when he was aroused. She looked down at her hands and blushed. He leaned back against the headboard, holding her wrists, palms up and open.

‘So,’ he looked deeply into the henna on her hands, ‘as far as I remember from films, I’m supposed to find my name on your hands, and the darker the henna, the more your husband loves you, right?’

She nodded, really feeling like a blushing bride now.

He bent his head over her hands, bringing them close to his face, as he searched for his initials. She could feel every puff of breath on her palm as he said, ‘your mehendi is really dark. He looked at her without lifting his head. ‘Your husband really does love you a lot.’ He said huskily.

She smiled, biting her lip, as she went along with his little game. He delicately traced the tip of one finger on her palm, where the letters ‘N’, ‘J’ and ‘F’ were clearly embellished. She shivered at the touch, realizing that Noel was going to do the full suhaag raat thing with her. He wasn’t going to take away any of her rituals. They had the best of both worlds! He bent his head and kissed her palm, right on top of his name.

She put her other hand on his head, her fingers combing through his hair. He looked up at her, before getting out of bed, and turning off all the lights and most of the candles, the only light coming from a small group of candles set on the dresser.

He came back and helped her get off the bed, standing in the middle of the room, holding her hand. ‘I’m supposed to take off your jewelry, right?’ he asked softly.

She nodded her head. He slowly undraped the dupatta from her head, dropping it on the floor. He took off every pin from her hair, letting it swing loose, cascading down her back. He touched the curls lovingly, moving around behind her, slowly untying the knots at the back of her blouse. She felt the blouse come loose as he slowly pushed it off her shoulders. She hadn’t worn a bra underneath, and over her shoulders, he saw her breasts come into view, puckering as the cool air from the air conditioner hit her skin. He stepped back, undoing the buttons on his shirt, before reaching for the ties on her skirt. He tugged them slowly, his breath fanning her skin as she stood there, her breathing accelerating with every brush of his fingers. Her eyes closed, as she felt him tug the skirt off, leaving her standing laden with jewelry and only a skimpy pair of white lace panties covering her.

Noel slowly took off his shirt, moving around to look at her - her long flowing hair, the jewels in her parting, long heavy earrings, the chunky gold necklace, the slim diamond studded waistband, the glittering belly ring, her arms full of bangles, her fingers glittering with jewels. She looked like an ancient sculpture come to life only for him. Her breasts full and proud, the deep dip of her waistline flaring out into her full hips, the concave curve of her stomach, the emphatic dimple of her navel, her hennaed legs ending in a set of heavy silver anklets with bells.

He swallowed hard.

‘Mitul,’ he said, huskily. Moving forward, he gathered her into his arms, reaching to only remove the jewelry from the parting in her hair. He left the rest on. Kicking his shoes off, he picked her up in his arms, one arm under her thighs, the other behind her back. Her head drooped onto his shoulder, her arms clasped around his neck, as he walked to the bed and carefully placed her on it, laying her down against the flower strewn sheets and pillows.

Tonight, he would make love to his personal live sculpture, he thought, as he lowered himself onto her, bringing his lips to hers, as his eyes fluttered closed.

*****