We are escorted to the coffee-brown Maybach limousine. My knees knock as I climb into the vanilla-hued interiors; it smells of fresh peach. I close my eyes and drop my head back. This is a little too much!
I’m a working girl; there’s a tonne of stuff piled up on my desk. But here I am, flying private, to attend a polo match! Something in my life is totally off; my kneecaps agree.
I walk into Appa’s study with nothing more than Chinese takeout on my mind when he makes the announcement. It is a completely ordinary Sunday evening.
‘We’re invited to a polo match. Our Royals side is playing the Rest.’
Our Royals side? We’ve been associated with Ranibagh for but five minutes. And polo? I’ve seen pictures and sketches of men on horseback, swinging mallets, but I didn’t know people still play it.
‘Aaditha and Alia will go to Jaipur to watch Vedveer play,’ he is telling Amma, who is nodding dutifully.
‘Vedveer is playing,’ Appa says, turning to me.
‘So?’ I ask. My mind may be swinging between flat noodles and men with mallets, but I notice Appa has not only roped in Alia but also got her on the guest list. This has been cooking for a while, obviously.
‘Why are you arguing all the time, Aashi?’ Appa asks.
‘It’s a question, Appa, not an argument. I’m allowed to ask a question.’ Even if he thinks it doesn’t merit an answer.
Some five days later, Alia arrives, big bags and bigger smiles. That’s when the weight of it all lands – hard. Until now, Iwas only thinking awkward conversations and uncomfortable footwear.
I accost Appa in his study later that evening, where he’s mid-conversation with Alia. She is offering him fashion advice, naturally.
‘You know I don’t enjoy watching sporting contests live. I get nervous.’ I break into their conversation. ‘The place will be swarming with photographers, trying to capture my every expression.’
‘She gets very nervous,’ Alia agrees. She’s beside me now, arranging my hair, tucking it behind my ears.
Appa nods. ‘I will let the Rathores know. You don’t have to watch it live.’
Hmm… If I don’t have to watch it live, why are we going to Jaipur? I can watch this episode of men and ponies on my phone.
‘Why are we doing this?’ I ask. ‘We’ve had no communication with them after they were here. So why are we going to some society circus we have assiduously steered clear of all these years?’
‘What communication is needed? That, too, after Vedveer and you were photographed together at a dinner party. What is there left to say?’
‘It wasn’t a dinner party, Appa!’ I come back. ‘And Vedveer has been photographed with at least a hundred different women!’
‘But he’s not marrying them! Or, you know, standing very close to all of them…’
‘Appa, you can say making out. Aaditha is not a child any more,’ Alia chimes in. She has moved away and is looking at me triumphantly.
I give her a dirty stare. ‘We were greeting each other!’ I say.
Appa clears his throat. ‘Whatever. Behave yourselves whenyou’re there, both of you.’
Alia is all smiles.
‘And don’t give Amma tension. She has agreed to go with you two despite my not being able to make it.’
‘This polo whatever is not important enough for you?’ I turn to Appa.
‘I’m not the one getting married, Aashi.’
No. And it’s not going to be me either.
My eyes open as the wheels slow to a crawl. We are turning into the gates of the Ranibagh Palace. My breath catches in my throat; it is a rough knot. I feel my eyes widen. What is this, a township? A whole damn planet? My gaze can’t get to the end of it; it is mightier than I could grasp, beyond anything words can hold. Pale pink exteriors, red accents, golden sun-kissed domes, tall archways, stucco ornamentation… It climbs into the clouds.
We roll down the pathway. On my right are lush green fields edged with sparkling white canopies. The stage is set for my execution!
