‘How are you doing?’ I ask, glancing at him.
He turns slightly, meets my eye and smiles. A small, unreadable thing.
‘Not bad,’ he says.
I make a conscious effort not to look around me. I could drown in the sheer massiveness of the place. One foot in front of the other, eyes only on what is before me. That, however, lasts until the room door opens. My eyes widen at the expanse around me. A ginormous space, then another room, comparatively smaller, an open-air sit-out, more doors that lead to… more rooms?
Vedveer places my tote on a table and points at the three chambermaids and a young woman wearing a corporate uniform. They bow in unison. Knees bent, torsos angled.
He gestures to the lady in the grey skirt and waistcoat thatcarries the Rathore insignia.
‘This is Reema Barmer,’ he says. ‘She’s been hired to help you with anything you may need in the lead up to the…’ A loud pause, a sharp intake of breath. ‘Wedding,’ he finishes.
Anything I may need… Wedding…
Reema’s smile stretches from ear to ear; she couldn’t wear it any wider, even if she tried.
How many queries would one have? Did they need to hire someone to answer my questions? There are already one too many people running around this place anyway.
I wait for Reema to walk away.
‘I could just call you if I need anything,’ I say. ‘I mean, I could just ask you, no?’
Vedveer raises an eyebrow before his face breaks into a smile. ‘Sure,’ he says, ‘you can, anytime.’
I nod. There’s a question I cannot quite read in his eyes.
‘Are you nervous about lighting the Holika for the first time tonight?’ I ask.
‘What’s there to be nervous about?’ he scoffs. ‘Just centuries of tradition and everyone’s eyes on me and the very real possibility that I trip and set my kurta on fire.’
I grin. ‘Wow! I like the confidence. Should I keep a bucket of water handy?’
Vedveer’s smile falters as his eyes darken. ‘It’s a lot. Not just the lighting of the fire or the people watching; it’s what it means. Like carrying something bigger than me, something that’s supposed to bring light after darkness. I… I don’t want to mess up.’
My eyes are on Vedveer. The weight of tradition and expectation is a complicated maths sum.
‘You won’t mess up,’ I say quietly.
‘But keep that bucket of water ready, just in case?’ he says and turns briefly before making his way out.
‘Is there anything you need, Rajkumari?’ Reema asks.
I need to be left alone. The only thing on my wish list at the moment.
I tell Reema I will call if I need anything. She leaves her card on the table.
Two of the maids are young and all smiles; the older lady’s gaze is firm. I meet her eyes squarely.
The two younger maids start moving my baggage around, giving an already pristine space more order, if that is even possible. They then disappear into the bathroom and return giggling.
They want to unpack my bags, but I’m not unpacking.
I haven’t packed my entire wardrobe – just a couple of options for the events and outings that are planned. The extras are only because of Alia, who is sitting in the United States and running my life.
‘A girl needs to have options’, she says.
Gauri Elena isn’t taking chances and has ordered my outfit for this evening, the idea of which has me in splits.
