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“I’ll wear them later,” I insisted.
“Since you like vintage clothes, would you like to browse through the clothes here and see if you want to wear any of them for the wedding? I have Abu and Sandeep on speed dial, so even if you want new outfits, we can have them made immediately.”
“Thank you, Aunty, but I’d rather look through what you have here because I love the idea of wearing an outfit with some history behind it. Something that has been worn by the women of your family because that has way more significance than a brand new outfit.”
Padmini Aunty smiled and cupped my face gently.
“That’s how we preserve our royal heritage, my dear. That is all we have to remind us of our glory days - stories and some old clothes - but when we put them together, they create something very magical. Come, let me show you some of our ancestral fabrics. Isha has worked very hard to restore them and preserve them carefully.”
“And I know just the outfit for you,” squealed my best friend, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me to a row of clothes hanging in muslin garment bags.
She rummaged through the rows of clothes until she found what she was looking for. She pulled a heavy bag off the hanger with a grunt.
“This must be ten kgs at the very least. It’s our great-grandmother’s wedding saree,” she panted as she laid the bag on the carpet and unzipped it slowly.
I gasped at the beauty of the fabric inside. It was a heavily embroidered dark rose-coloured silk saree with real gold zari.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, running a finger over the soft silk.
Isha took it out of the bag and shook the saree gently to open it up, and then she draped it around me loosely. The colour made my skin glow, and the fabric moulded itself to my body lovingly.
“You look so regal,” said Isha. “Do you like it?”
“Love it! I would love to be married in this saree. What do you think, Ma?”
“You don’t want to know what I think,” replied my mother acidly. “But that’s a gorgeous saree, and you will make a lovely bride.”
She burst into tears and I rushed to her side as Isha folded the saree carefully and placed it in its bag again.
“What’s wrong, Ma?”
“Everything about this is wrong! The Sisodia-Shekhawat wedding should be the event of the century instead of a secret affair like this. It’s as if Dheer is ashamed to marry you,” she wailed.
Her words made me think. Was that why Dheer agreed to a small marriage? If that was true, then why did he talk about forever? I shook the thought aside. It didn’t matter if he was ashamed to marry me. It wasn’t as if this marriage meant anything.
“That’s not true, Raji. Dheer wants to give Diya the kind of wedding she wants. If she wants a big wedding, she can have one. This is her choice,” explained Padmini Aunty.
“Fine, but when all this is settled, we’re going to have a big celebration, and you will use the trousseau I put together,” warned my mother sternly. “Now go and put on some face-pack. Your skin looks haggard.”
I rolled my eyes at her but was glad of the excuse to leave the room. I decided to take a quick shower and a nap because I hadn’t slept last night.
CHAPTER 14
DHEER
Iwas on a call with Kirori Ji when Isha rapped on the door and walked into my study.
“Bhai Sa, we have to talk.”
I waved her into a chair and wound up my call.
“What are you up to?” she asked suspiciously.
“Delivering a much-needed message to the Goels about my upcoming wedding. And that I will not tolerate any attack on my new extended family,” I replied, stretching my arms over my head. “Now, how can I help you?”
“You need to sit down and talk to Diya. Clearly and honestly.”
I stared at her in confusion.
