When Hari Met His Saali (32 page)

He asked for Hari’s hand and when he held it in his own, he became emotional.

‘I felt your hand and more importantly your words,’ he said, coughing as he spoke.

Simi came forward.

‘Maybe you should rest a bit. We will be here.’

‘No, I want the three of you to know that I have not forgotten what a grave mistake I made. I am sorry for that. But before I fix it, I hope that some life has happened to all three of you while I was lying here as a vegetable, so I am going to tell you something.’

He pulled himself up so that he was seated on the bed.

‘I can have this young man here, or anyone for that matter, believe that they love something or someone, and they will. But that wouldn’t be right. It would be great magic, but it won’t be right. Unlike what we read in books, life is not magic. It should be real. I could have used magic on my wife and we would have never had a fight in our life! But I didn’t because I wanted to experience the marriage and the relationship in its entirety as the other person was and not the way I wanted her to be. We fought a lot, me and my wife — almost like cats and dogs — but by doing so our love for each other grew deeper without us knowing. Because you fight at your loudest with the people you love the moistest… .’ He laughed.

‘Ugh not the moistest, but the mostest. A little slip of the tongue there.’ He took a sip of water.

‘But I want you, Hari, to decide with whom you want to have that kind of experience. Remember, if there is something in this entire universe that can keep growing without any limit, it is love, so the person you choose may not be perfect as of today, but love allows for growth, not just theirs but yours as well. You understand what I am saying?’

Hari nodded.

‘So, I am not going to ask you to pick one of these two, because they are not things, but I want you to think which one you want to experience love with. You understand?’

‘Yes.’

And keep it in your head. Don’t say it, don’t tell me. Don’t tell them. Then nod to me when you have decided and I’ll use the release word. After that there will only be two people who know whether the spell got broken and it won’t be Tia or Simi. You understand?’

Hari understood what Xavier was doing.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘That way, the choice you make afterwards will be your choice, magic or no magic!’

Hari nodded. Xavier looked at Simi and Tia. They also nodded.

‘Ready?’ Xavier asked one final time.

Hari nodded and closed his eyes. As he was deciding, everyone waited.

Oh God, please let him pick Tia. I could never live with him knowing Tia was unhappy.

Simi had also closed her eyes and was praying.

Nobody knew what Tia was praying for.

Tia looked at Xavier and he looked at her. A communication happened between them without anything being said.

Then Hari opened his eyes and nodded.

‘Now, once I say the release word and your decision is announced, you would have picked one of the two sisters. I would like you and her to get married immediately, here and now. We don’t want any more
jhagda
, OK?’ Xavier asked.

Hari, Simi and Tia nodded in agreement.

Xavier closed his eyes, lifted his hand — frailly — touched his middle finger with his thumb and said …

‘Ottaca!’ and snapped his fingers.

Hari’s body trembled for a brief moment and then he regained normalcy. He thanked Xavier.

Nobody in the room knew whether Hari’s spell was broken or not. Of course, Hari knew but, in spite of his claims, it was doubtful whether Xavier knew or not as he fell asleep immediately.

Hari turned to face Simi and Tia.

All over the globe

Hari’s wedding news travelled fast across cities and states, continents and countries, to reach the shores of Los Angeles and all the way to the Malhotra household. The wedding would take place in Pondicherry at the X-Ashram over the weekend.

Mary, along with
Badi Mama
and
Nana
, had danced a bit in excitement.
Badi Mama
, the chameleon she was, had instantly declared ‘I knew my
bachcha
would do us proud. I always knew deep down in my heart that his wedding was going to happen in India.’

‘You always know everything and you always say so after the fact,’
Nana
said laughingly as she adjusted her fake teeth.

Barry was overcome with emotion for the first time, although he resisted shaking his leg with the ladies in his home. He was genuinely happy to hear Hari’s confident and decisive voice after a long time.

The Reddy brothers had insisted that they would take care of Hari’s wedding preparations. And prepare they did. They had descended upon Pondicherry in a caravan of cars with uniformed staff, assistants, servants and assortments of political and police permissions.

The Reddy brothers’ wives — two sisters called Reshma and Sushma — took over responsibility for the food and festivities and the brothers took over the infrastructure planning for the various functions. The Windflower Resort and Spa on Cuddalore ECR Road was taken over for guests and all the music related events. Smartly, this time, Hari, Tia and Simi had stayed away from making any decisions on how the preparations should be.

By Friday morning the guests started arriving. The first ones to arrive were Mary, Barry,
Badi Mama
and
Nana
who all had a sort of spiritual hug when they saw Hari, Simi and Tia.

Then came Tia and Simi’s mother. When she met Mary, Simi’s mother thought she had met her long-lost sister. They hit it off instantly. Of course, Simi and Tia’s
Mausi
and the creepy
Mausaji
had accompanied their mother as well. People in India don’t often miss weddings no matter where they are.

Next Chitthi, Cindy, Phil and Jenny arrived. All of them were bowled over by this exotic town as well as the exotic hotel suites they were put up
in. An hour later, surprise of surprises, Stephan and Clara showed up. Hari had insisted that the wedding would not happen without them. Clara always wanted to visit South India, so they were delighted by the invitation.

When Minto was told that
this time
Hari was getting married in India he had taken offense to the
‘this time’
and on his own initiative had showed to up to check for himself — along with a strange American man who was tall and slim and built like a rocket. They had insisted on staying in the same hotel suite.

The wedding took place in the traditional South Indian style. The
pandits
performing the ceremony had insisted upon it. The whole
pandit
union was like the mafia there. They only knew how to perform a marriage in their own way, which made sense. And actually,
‘this time’
no one wanted to suggest anything for the fear of having a
Tia-Hari engagement relapse.
Everyone was going with the flow.

The time of the wedding arrived. On Saturday morning just before the ceremony, Simi and Tia’s mother had requested Xavier to give away her daughter to Hari, as he had had the most impact on their lives in terms of the marriage. Xavier was regaining strength every day and was walking now, so he had agreed.

Everyone had gathered around the bridegroom.

According to custom, the bride and the groom were separated by a
shawl
to block them from seeing each other. On one side was the bridegroom and the other side was the bride.

Mr. Ayyangar and Mr. Mukherjee held the shawl at each end. It was only when the head
pandit
made a signal, after they had recited their mantras, that the shawl was supposed to be dropped, allowing the two to see each other. Then they would put a garland around each other’s neck. And only then they would be pronounced husband and wife. It was the equivalent of a priest declaring, ‘you may now kiss the bride’.

Of course there would be no kissing happening here after the shawl dropped. They don’t do that in public places in India. Not even after you have just been declared married.

In the moments before the ceremony the guests were getting restless. Hari could hear them murmuring, ‘Is it going to be Simi or Tia?’

Opinions were divided on who should show up on the other side of the shawl.

Barry and Mary were maintaining a demeanor of, ‘It doesn’t matter if it is Simi or Tia, as long as Hari is happy.’ Of course, they had their own individual picks, but they were not telling, not even to each other.

Badi Mama
wanted it to be Tia. Hari needed a tough, assertive and decisive woman.

Enough said, why aren’t they serving wine yet?

Nana
wanted it to be Simi.

Such a sohni kudi.

Nana
wanted Hari to have a wife and not a boss.

Enough said, where’s that wine?

Stephan felt that even though Tia came across as career-oriented, independent and sometimes mean, she deserved Hari. Clara, on the other hand, was rooting for Simi. She argued that she was the girl that deserved the life that Hari could provide.

Chitthi knew whom Hari would decide upon.

Jenny knew whom Hari
had
decided upon.

Minto was distracted with the haphazard way the ceremony was taking place. The only thing he was impressed with so far was the whole shawl business. He was visualizing that if he ever incorporated that at the Malibu Beach Club, the shawl could be lowered electronically, with cables, controlled remotely with …

But there was one woman who showed only pride on her face — Mrs. Galhotra. She was, by now, confident that her two daughters would support each other no matter which one got married. She felt that that was an achievement of the way she brought them up.

The two sisters were not even present; they were in a tiny room upstairs. They were both getting dressed.

This time, one was going to be the other’s bridesmaid. This time, one was going to escort the other to the man of
their
dreams.

When they were ready to leave the room, they said to each other ‘This is it!’ almost simultaneously. They burst out laughing.

As they entered the hall, everyone stood up. They both looked gorgeous dressed in simple sarees as they walked elegantly, hand-in-hand together towards the shawl.

There was no spotlight, there were no thrones, there was no DJ, no assigned seating, no temperature-controlled environment … there was not even an air-conditioner. The rickety fans were whirring overhead providing a unique sound effect to the sole
shehnai
— a conical, double-reed wind instrument whose sound is thought to create and maintain a sense of auspiciousness and sanctity — played by an overenthusiastic local musician.

The way guests were herded to the one end of the hall, they could see Hari was dressed in a white silk
lungi
, but they couldn’t see who was going to
be the bride and who was going to be the bridesmaid. They were all made to stand behind Hari, supposedly to symbolize that when Hari saw his bride, so would the rest of the world.

On the other side of the shawl were Tia, Simi and their stand-in father, Xavier.

The
pandit
started his
puja
and
mantra
and soon other junior
pandits
joined him to form a chorus of
mantras
, which to be completely honest sounded, at times, like they were shouting slogans at a political rally. But no one was laughing, no one was even trying to sneak a peek to see who was the bride-to-be behind the shawl — Tia or Simi.

Multiple times during the long ‘procedure’ it seemed like the
pandits
had concluded their
puja
as the crescendo of their chanting dipped to almost nil, but then they started up again. This happened several times.

After what seemed like forever, the head
pandit
signaled, the shawl was dropped, and looking back at Hari was …

… Simi.

Hari looked at Tia one last time. And although Tia had tears in her eyes, she nodded to Hari. They were tears of joy.

Hari put the garland over Simi’s head. And then Simi put the garland over his.

Hari and Simi were married and the triangle of love was complete.

Or was it?

Of course it was!

But several things happened after the wedding ceremony. If their love story were a movie, the following would have happened over the closing credits.

As soon as they were alone the first thing Simi told Hari, in a very Tia style way, was this:

‘Do not think you picked me like one item over the other on a food menu. You will not forget that, ultimately, I agreed to marry you. Had I said no, you would have had no Simi, no Tia.’

‘Of course, I know that, Simi.’ Hari noticed a Tia demeanor in Simi in the way she was standing with her hands on her hips. He was not sure the smile on his face was that of familiarity or of nervousness. But he was glad about what she said next.

‘We will never talk about what happened between the three of us. Ever.’ And she had relaxed her hands-on-the-hips stance.

‘Yes, we will be the only couple who would deny any magic in our relationship!’ He said with deadpan humor. It made her laugh.

Phew.

Hari and Simi went on a honeymoon to the idyllic McLeod Ganj near Dharamshala in Himachal Pradesh. It was a ten-day blissful stay for both of them, where Simi, finally, experienced the actual
boom-boom-shaka-laka boom.
This time she had no doubt that it had actually happened … over and over again.

Since Hari had failed to bring her a single flower, said anything nice to her
per se
and lounged on the sofa with snot hanging out of his nose she knew that the real Hari was back!

Truly the spell had been broken and he had chosen her without the influence of magic or hypnosis.

He had chosen me for who I am and not because of magic.

Simi was very happy and meanwhile Hari suspected that something strange was happening to him. Sometimes he would snap out of a daze and realize that he had just given Simi a long massage. He wondered why he could not remember why he was giving her a massage almost every night, and every morning. Plus Simi didn’t seem to return the same favor.