Arranged marriage was an age-old story that Khushi, the youngest of the infamous Gupta family, who revolutionized and dominated the trading market for generations, knew well.
For it was the only thing she heard growing up.
But that neither prepared...
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Alok was wide-awake when Khushi entered his room, his eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. Without his usual spectacles, well-combed hair, and three-piece suit, he appeared quite frail to Khushi. In all these years, she hadn't quite registered how old her father was getting.
She cleared her throat, keeping her distance. "Umm... Papa?"
Alok's eyes shifted. "I... I can't see you," he croaked.
Khushi hesitantly came closer and sat down next to his bed, wondering how much of their conversation from earlier that evening he still remembered.
It was Alok who spoke first, and surprisingly, it was not what Khushi was expecting:
"When you were twelve years old, there was a play in your school...Joan of Arc, if I remember correctly. It was your first time on stage, you never really had much patience for creative things... but somehow, that one year, the teachers could convince you to take part. You were one of the Generals."
Khushi had no clue what he was saying. "Why–"
Alok continued, ignoring her interruption. "And even amongst all your classmates on stage that night, I knew exactly where you were because of your costume... you had nagged your mother for weeks, wanting the perfect look to suit your role. Garima had probably gone to every single costume shop in the city, but nothing satisfied you. In the end, she gave up, got the cloth, and stitched it herself."
Khushi bit her lip, vaguely recalling the incident in question. It was one of the better memories of her childhood.
"That was one of the first times I saw the extent of your stubbornness."
"You saw...?"
"I came to the play, Khushi. I came late, yes... caught up with business as usual, but I came, nonetheless. I sat at the back and watched every second you were on stage."
Khushi didn't know what to say.
"I never came to your school and asked about you because you never gave me a chance to. You never made mistakes like Vihaan... you didn't need to be monitored, pushed, or taken care of..."
So her father had indeed listened to every word she had uttered that evening and had his rebuttal ready. How typical.
Alok continued. "Vihaan is my son, yes... but I never put him in front of you because you were a girl... as the eldest, he had bigger responsibilities, bigger goals cut out for him since even before he was born.... The truth is, I didn't have time for two children... and between the two, I thought Vihaan had a greater need than yours."
Wait... did she hear right? Was Alok Raj Gupta really giving her, of all people, an explanation for his actions?
Alok took a deep breath, flinching in pain.
"Where does it hurt?" Khushi asked, almost as a reflex.
He waved off her concern. "I clearly am from a different time than yours Khushi... when my father was strict with me, I always reminded myself that I will give my children the freedom to be children... but today, when you and Vihaan accuse me of being the same, I realize that nothing has changed.... Perhaps in my efforts to secure a safe future for you, I stopped being your father altogether."
