A Hundred Flukes

Dirty

Dirty - Chapter 3

He walked with heavy steps and a sunken heart towards the door. He had searched everywhere, treading the roads nearby on foot and then as told by Payal, took a taxi to Sheesh minar since his frail health did not permit the exertion of walking over long distances, but there were no signs of his daughter. Anywhere. He opened the door, his blank eyes fell on the old clock on the opposite wall which showed 1:30 at night. A disconcerted Shashi Gupta was further disheartened to see his wife sobbing holding on to the bedpost, his sister sitting in the dining table chair, holding her head in her palms, cursing. Payal sat pale and still in the opposite corner, "You didn't find her?" she brought her hands to her mouth.

Just then a scooter engine resounded in the courtyard. "Khushi..", Payal sprang from her chair, "No, you don't move" objected Garima and stormed towards the door in anger.

Khushi had wrapped her pink stole around herself like a serape. Still clutching on the file, she shambled with guilt laden steps in her lachrymose atmosphere. The sight of the extinguished havan-kund, the festive lights turned off, the vessels of untouched food and the crestfallen faces of the shop-workers made her feel miserable. "Now she comes.." taunted a neighbour from behind. Garima grabbed her arm, "Amma.." Khushi began, "Just shut up and come inside." Garima chided as she dragged her daughter in.

"You numbskull, dunderheaded clod." bellowed Madhumati, "satisfied atlast?"

"Jiji, atleast listen to what she has to say." Mr. Gupta interjected.

"No. That’s your problem Shashi, you always defend her, had you spanked her hard when she was a child, we wouldn't have to see this day." she said fuming.

"Babuji, I thought I could help you....." Khushi tried to find her voice. "Do us a favor, don't think at all...every time you think, we all end up in deep trouble, what were you thinking of yourself that you were some TV serial heroin who could sort out all the problems alone?" said an exasperated Garima.

"I'd agree with your mother there Khushi, you could have at least consulted us before", Mr. Gupta said softly.

"What? Are you running consultancy services here? That lad is a junior engineer," Madhumati rounded her eyes upwards and lifted her head towards the ceiling- a gesture she assumed whenever she had to describe something grand (as per her), "their demands were genuine."

"Whats illegal can't be genuine." Khushi said quietly.

"And you are the city magistrate?" spat her mother.

"I told you Garima, the day you got this useless orphan of your sister home, I told you she'd be the doom for all of us." Madhumati growled.

"Enough jiji, not another word against my daughter," warned Shashi and then took Khushi's cold hands in his, "come my child, you must be hungry." Khushi could not reply to that, she had had her fill of reality today which was already way too much for her digestive system to handle.

                                                  ****

The late night gibbous moon peeped through the curtain less barred window left wide open for the gentle breeze. But none of the sisters could sleep. For the past 3 months, everyone who met Payal told how her life would change after marriage. She was preparing for the UPSC exam scheduled for January the following year when they had found a match for her, the consequences of which had adversely affected her studies. She had been unable to clear the exam in her maiden attempt and chose to proceed with a change in subjects this time, but even history wasn't exactly a cake and with the entire wedding thing coming up, she had given up on administrative services all together. Her thoughts drifted to Abhishek, how differently he had behaved tonight from what she had known him to be. She had conceived of him as a simple, educated, shy small-town boy who had once told her how he was loath to have any sort of material expectation from his would-be in laws. And yet today he had hung his head and kept silent, didn't utter even a single word in her family's defense when his mother had let out a stream of invective. Waste, what an unqualified wastage of her precious time these months had been.