And Thereby Hangs a Tale Read online

  “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 fleshpots of the young. The fashionable clubs and fast cars had been replaced by visits to the theater, ballet, and opera, followed by quiet dinners in restaurants that cared more about their cuisine than about which Bollywood star was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 fingernails into the palms of her hands—something 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?”

  “I would like Mother to be present when I tell you my news.”

  The Maharaja looked apprehensive, but stood aside to allow his wife and son to enter the study. Both men remained standing until the Maharani had taken her seat.

  Once the Maharani had sat down, Jamwal turned to his mother and said in a gentle voice, “Mother, I have fallen in love with the most wonderful young woman, and I want you to know that I have asked her to be my wife.”

  The Maharani bowed her head.

  Jamwal turned to face his father, who was gripping the arms of his chair, ashen-faced, but before Jamwal could continue, the Maharaja said, “I have never concerned myself with the way you conduct your life in Delhi, even when those activities have been reported in the gutter press. Heaven knows, I was young myself once. But I have always assumed that you were aware of your duties to this family, and that in time would marry a young woman not only from your own background, but who also met with the approval of your mother and myself.”

  “Nisha and I are from the same background, Father, so let’s be frank, it’s not her background we’re discussing, but my caste.”

  “No,” said his father, “what we are discussing is your responsibility to the family that raised you, and bestowed on you all the privileges you have taken for granted since the day you were born.”

  “Father,” said Jamwal quietly, “I didn’t fall in love simply to annoy you. What has happened between Nisha and me is something rare and beautiful, and a cause for celebration, not anger. That is why I returned home in the hope of receiving your blessing.”

  “You will never have my blessing,” said his father. “And if you are foolish enough to go ahead with this unacceptable union, you will not be welcome in this house again.”

  Jamwal looked toward his mother, but her head remained bowed and she didn’t speak.

  “Father,” Jamwal said, turning back to face him, “won’t you even meet Nisha before you make your decision?”

  “Not only will I never meet this young woman, but also no member of this family will ever be permitted to come into contact with her. Your grandmother must go to her grave unaware of this misalliance, and your brother, who married wisely, will now become not only my successor, but also my sole heir, while your sister will enjoy all the privileges that were once to be bestowed on you.”

  “If it was a lack of wisdom that caused me to fall in love, Father, so be it, because the woman I have asked to be my wife and the mother of my children is a beautiful, intelligent, and remarkable human being, with whom I intend to spend