A Tale Of An Indian Marriage

Chapter 8

Two weeks had gone by. It was a little awkward for me to face Arnav after that fiasco. Arnav was acting as usual except for the times when he smirked at me. It was funny for him the way I was acting. The internship was also good and enjoyable. There were so many things to learn.

As for Karan, he was slowly becoming a friend to me. I just wish he could notice Priyanka's interest in him. Priyanka was a really good girl. I had made some more new friends and working became comfortable because of that.

It was Sunday and I was planning to visit Arnav's mother's memorial. It has been long since I visited there. I was also excited because Rishi bhaya was coming with bhabi and kids. He would be staying for a few days. Rishi bhaya had some official work and bhabi thought it was good chance to meet us.

I got ready and went downstairs. Papa was probably out for jogging. Yes, he finally started jogging early morning! Maa was watering the small flower pots kept near the kitchen window.

"Maa, I am going." I had already informed my parents last night.

"Ride your Scooty and be back soon. Also, take some flowers from the garden with you."

"I will." I grabbed the keys from the shelf and went out the front doors. I plucked some flowers from the garden. I know plucking the flowers were not good but sometimes it was necessary. I went to the garage and started my scooty.

The road was completely imprinted on my heart. I had been there so many times that the cemetery keeper treated me like a daughter. He was an old man who had worked for thirty years in the cemetery. He also told me that he was there when Aradhna aunty's pyre was lit. He had witnessed the building of the memorial from stone to stone. I still remember our first conversation.

*Flashback starts*

"Beta" (Daughter!) I was sitting on the grass near the memorial when I heard someone calling. I would have been scared to hear a voice inside cemetery if I wasn't used to this place.

I looked up to find an old man. I had seen him sitting in front of his old hut inside the cemetery. He was the guardian of the cemetery.

"Me, bahut mahino se dekh raha hun...tum har mahine aati ho yahan. Kaun lagti thi ye tumhari?" (I have observed you for a while...You come here every month. Who is she to you?)What should I say? There was no name assigned by the society to this relationship.

I just gave a small smile and replied, "Bahut khaas he ye hamari zindagi main chachaji." (Someone special in my life, uncle.)

"Beta, iss masaan me Tees saal kaam kar ke, zindagi ke baare me kuch to samajh gaya hoon. Me janta hoon beta ki kuch rishton ke naam nahi hote."(Daughter,I have understood life a lot after working for thirty years in this cemetery. I know some relationships cannot be named.) His words changed my prospective of him. I saw him as one of the wisest person, I have ever known.

"Ji Chachaji."(Yes, Uncle) I nodded my head. He made himself comfortable a few inches away from me.

"Me jab bhi iss smarak ko dekhta hu to bas dekhta hi raha jata hoon. Itna sundar aur jese shantwana ka prateek ho.Kabhi kabhi lagta he jese ki ye is galat jagah par ban gaya he. Pata he, mene iss smarak ko apni ankhon se bante hue dekha he. Bahut pyaar karta tha iska pati. Kitna roya tha jab chitta jali thi!" (Whenever I see this memorial, I get fascinated.It's so beautiful and a symbol of peace. Sometimes, I feel that it is built at the wrong place. You know, I have seen this memorial being built from scratch.Her husband loved her a lot. He cried a lot when his wife's pyre was lit.) His words were making me emotional. I remembered about my Dadaji. A tear slipped from my eye.