And Thereby Hangs a Tale (30 page)

When the 747 touched down at San Francisco
International Airport at five forty-five the following morning, Jamwal took the
first available cab and headed for the Palo Alto Hotel.

Some discreet enquiries at the concierge's desk,
accompanied by a ten-dollar bill, produced the information he required. After a
quick shower, shave and change of clothes, another cab drove him across to the
university campus.

When the smartly dressed young man wearing a
Harvard tie walked into the registrar's office and asked where he might find
Miss Nisha Chowdhury, the woman behind the counter smiled and directed him to
the north block, room forty-three.

As Jamwal strolled across the campus, few students
were to be seen, other than early morning joggers or those returning from very
late-night parties. It brought back memories of Harvard.

When he reached the north block, he made no
attempt to enter the building, fearing he might find her with another man. He
took a seat on a bench facing the front door and waited. He checked his watch
every few minutes, and began to wonder if she had already gone to breakfast. A
dozen thoughts flashed through his mind while he waited.

What would he do if she appeared on Sanjay Promit's
arm? He'd slink back to Delhi on the next flight, lick his wounds and move on to
the next girl. But what if she was away for the weekend and didn't plan to
return until Monday morning, when term began? He had several pressing
appointments on Monday, none of whom would be impressed to learn that Jamwal
was on the other side of the world chasing a girl he'd only met twicewell,
three times if you counted the pigtail incident.

When she came through the swing doors, he immediately
knew why he'd circled half the globe to sit on a wooden bench at eight o'clock
in the morning.

Nisha walked straight past him. She wasn't ignoring
Jamwal this time, but simply hadn't registered who it was sitting on the bench.

Even when he rose to greet her, she didn't immediately
recognize him, perhaps because he was the last person on earth she expected to
see. Suddenly her whole face lit up, and it seemed only natural that he should
take her in his arms.

'What brings you to Stanford, Jamwal?' she asked
once he'd released her.

'You,' he replied simply.

'But why-' she began.

'I'm just trying to make up for tying you to
a lamp post.'

'I could still be there for all you cared,'
she said, grinning. 'So tell me, Jamwal, have you already had breakfast with
another woman?'

'I wouldn't be here if there was another
woman,' he said.

'I was only teasing,' she said softly,
surprised that he had risen so easily to her bait. Not at all his reputation.
She took his hand as they walked across the lawn together.

Jamwal could always recall exactly how they had
spent the rest of that day. They ate breakfast in the refectory with five
hundred chattering students; walked hand-in-hand around the lake -- several
times; lunched at Benny's diner in a corner booth, and only left when they
became aware that they were the last customers. They talked about going to the
theatre, a film, perhaps a concert, and even checked what was playing at the
Globe, but in the end they just walked and talked.

When he took Nisha back to the north block just
after midnight, he kissed her for the first time, but made no attempt to cross
the threshold. The gossip columnists had got that wrong as well, at least that
was somethixact wast af teng his mother would approve of. His final words
before they parted were, 'You do realize that we're going to spend the rest of
our lives together?'

Jamwal couldn't sleep on the long flight
back to Delhi as he thought about how he would break the news to his parents
that he had fallen in love. Within moments of landing, he was on the phone to
Nisha to let her know what he'd decided to do.

'I'm going to fly up to Jaipur during the
week and tell my parents that I've found the woman I want to spend the rest of
my life with, and ask for their blessing.'

'No, my darling,' she pleaded. 'I don't
think it would be wise to do that while I'm stuck here on the other side of the
world. Perhaps we should wait until I return.'

'Does that mean you're having second thoughts?'
he asked in a subdued voice.

'No, I'm not,' she replied calmly, 'but I
also have to think about how I break the news to my parents, and I'd prefer not
to do it over the phone. After all, my father may be just as opposed to the
marriage as yours.'

Jamwal reluctantly agreed that they should do
nothing until Nisha had graduated and returned to Delhi. He thought about
visiting his brother in Chennai and asking him to act as an intermediary, but
just as quickly dismissed the idea, only too aware that in time he would have
to face up to his father. He would have discussed the problem with his sister
Silpa, but however much she might have wanted to keep his secret, within days she
would have shared it with their mother.

In the end Jamwal didn't even tell his
closest friends why he boarded a flight to San Francisco every Friday
afternoon, and why his phone bill had recently tripled.

As each week went by, he became more certain
that he'd found the only woman he would ever love. He also accepted that he couldn't
put off telling his parents for much longer.

Every Saturday morning Nisha would be standing
by the arrivals gate at San Francisco International airport waiting for him to
appear. On Sunday evening, he would be among the last passengers to have their
passports checked before boarding the overnight flight to Delhi.

When Nisha walked up on to the stage to be awarded
her degree by the President of Stanford, two proud parents were sitting in the fifth
row warmly applauding their daughter.

A young man was standing at the back of the hall,
applauding just as enthusiastically. But when Nisha stepped down from the stage
to join her parents for the reception, Jamwal decided the time had come to slip
away.

When he arrived back at his hotel, the
concierge handed him a message:

Jamwal, Why don't you join
us for dinner at the Bel Air?

Shyam Chowdhury It became clear to Jamwal
within moments of meeting Nisha's parents that they had known about the
relationship for some time, and they left him in no doubt that they were delighted
to have a double cause for celebration: their daughter's graduation from
Stanford, and meeting the man there she'd fallen in love with.

The dinner lasted long into the night, and Jamwal
found it easy to relax in the company of Nisha's parents. He only wished...

'A toast to my daughter on her graduation day,'
said Shyam Chowdhury, raising his glass.

'Daddy, you've already proposed that toast
at least six times,' said Nisha.

'Is that right?' he said, raising his glass
a sev-enth time. 'Then let's toast Jamwal's graduation day.'

'I'm afraid that was several years ago, sir,'
said Jamwal.

Nisha's father laughed, and turning to his prospective
son-in-law, said, 'If you plan to marry my daughter, young man, then the time
has come for me to ask you about your future.'

'That may well depend, sir, on whether my father
decides to cut me off, or simply sacrifice me to the gods,' he replied. Nobody laughed.

'You have to remember, Jamwal,' said Nisha's
father, placing his glass back on the table, 'that you are the son of a
maharaja, a Rajput, whereas Nisha is the daughter of a...'

'I don't give a damn about that,' said
Jamwal.

'I feel sure you don't,' said Shyam Chowdhury.
'But I have no doubt that your father does, and that he always will. He is a
proud man, steeped in the Hindi tradition.

So if you decide to go ahead and marry my daughter
against his wishes, you must be prepared to face the consequences.'

'I appreciate what you are saying, sir,'
said Jamwal, now calmer. 'I love my parents, and will always respect their
traditions. But I have made my choice and I will stand by it.'

'It is not only you who will have to stand
by it, Jamwal,' said Mr Chowdhury. 'If you decide to defy the wishes of your
father, Nisha will have to spend the rest of her life proving that she is
worthy of you.'

'Your daughter has nothing to prove to me, sir,'
said Jamwal.

'It isn't you I am worried about.'

Nisha returned to Delhi a few days later and
moved back into her parents' home in Chanakyapuri. Jamwal wanted them to be married
as soon as possible, but Nisha was more cautious, only because she wanted him to
be certain before he took such an irrevocable step.

Jamwal had never been more certain about anything
in his life. He worked harder than ever by day, buoyed up by the knowledge that
he would be spending the evening with the woman he adored. He no longer had any
desire to visit the flesh-pots of the young.

The fashionable clubs and fast cars had been
replaced by visits to the theatre, ballet and opera, followed by quiet dinners
in restaurants that cared more about their cuisine than about which
Bollywood star was sitting next to which model at which table. Each night after
he'd driven her home he always left her with the same words: 'How much longer
do I have to wait before you will agree to be my wife?'

Nisha was about to tell him that she could see
no reason why they should wait any longer, when the decision was taken out of her
hands.

One evening, just as Jamwal had finished work
and was leaving to join Nisha for dinner, the phone on his desk rang.

'Jamwal, it's your mother. I'm so glad to catch
you.' He could feel his heart beating faster as he anticipated her next
sentence. 'I was hoping you might be able to come up to Jaipur for the weekend.
There's a young lady your father and I are keen for you to meet.'

After he had put the phone down, Jamwal didn't
call Nisha. He knew that he would have to explain to her face to face why there
had been a change of plan. Jamwal drove slowly over to her home in
Chanakyapuri, relieved that her parents were away for the weekend visiting
relatives in Hyderabad.

When Nisha opened the front door, she only had
to look into his eyes to realize what must have happened. She was about to
speak, when he said, 'I'll be flying up to Jaipur this weekend to visit my
parents, but before I leave, there's something I have to ask you.'

Nisha had prepared herself for this moment, and
if they were to part, as she had always feared they might, she was determined
not to break down in front of him. That could come later, but not until he'd
left. She dug her fin-gernails into the palms of her handssomething she'd
always done as a child when she didn't want her parents to realize she was
trembling -- before looking up at the man she loved.

'I want you to try to understand why I'm
flying to Jaipur,' he said. Nisha dug her nails deeper into the palms of her
hands, but it was Jamwal who was trembling. 'Before I see my father, I need to
know if you still want to be my wife, because if you do not, I have nothing to
live for.'

'Jamwal, welcome home,' said his mother as she
greeted her son with a kiss. 'I'm so glad you were able to join us for the
weekend.'

'It's wonderful to be back,' said Jamwal,
giving her a warm hug.

'Now, there's no time to waste,' she said as
they walked into the hall. 'You must go and change for dinner. Your
father and I have something very important to discuss with you before
our guests arrive.'

Jamwal remained at the bottom of the sweeping
marble staircase while a servant took his bags up to his room. 'And I have something
very important to discuss with you,' he said quietly.

'Nothing that can't wait, I'm sure,' said
his mother smiling up at her son, 'because among our guests tonight is someone
who I know is very much looking forward to meeting you.'

How Jamwal wished it was he who was saying
those same words because he was about to introduce his mother to Nisha. But he doubted
if petals would ever be strewn at the entrance of this home to welcome his
bride on their wedding day.

'Mother, what I have to tell you can't wait,'
he said. 'It's something that has to be discussed before we sit down for
dinner.' His mother was about to respond when Jamwal's father came out of his
study, a broad smile on his face.

'How are you, my boy?' he asked, shaking hands
with his son as if he'd just returned from prep school.

'I'm well, thank you, Father,' Jamwal
replied, giving him a traditional bow, 'as I hope you are.'

'Never better. And I hear great things about
your progress at work. Most impressive.'

'Thank you, Father.'

'No doubt your mother has already warned you
that we have a little surprise for you this evening.'

'And I have one for you, Father,' he said quietly.

'Another promotion in the pipeline?'

'No, Father. Something far more important than
that.'

'That sounds ominous, my boy. Shall we
retire to my study for a few moments while your mother changes for dinner?'