The engagement, reportedly a private ceremony at the Ranibagh Palace, has sent ripples through political circles, with many viewing the alliance as a calculated step in Gowda’s quiet march towards national prominence. While the families have emphasized tradition and shared values, the political undertones of the match have not gone unnoticed.
Insiders suggest that the alliance, while rooted in genuine camaraderie between the two families, especially the fathers, also serves Gowda’s growing ambition to be seen as a unifying figure across regional lines. With the Gowdas representing modern southern progressivism and the Rathores embodying north India’s royal heritage, the engagement is being billed by some as the symbolic bridge between two influential worlds.
As murmurs grow louder about Gowda’s role in the party’s national future, this royal connection may prove to be more than just ceremonial – it could be his most strategic alliance yet.
I only read one-third of the article; that is as much as I can take.
My jaw is clenched so hard that my jawbone hurts.
I dial Aaditha. I have to ask if she knew.
I let the phone do its thing, but all I get is static at the other end. I dial again. Same result. I dial a third time. I decide to try later.
My eyes shift to the broadsheet. This is a national newspaper, which means Aaditha might have already read the story, given that she starts her day early and we are closing on 9 a.m.
I pick up the papers again a couple of hours later. This time, I’mbreathing easy. I like what they are offering. I tick the rubrics, leaving nothing to chance.
Our legal team has already gone through it with a fine-tooth comb. It is only Father whom I need to talk to. He is on one of his rare visits to Jaipur. I look at the watch; he should be surfacing at any time.
I’m trying to lock outthatfact about the lease that bothers me the most, but I just can’t turn my back on it. It keeps coming back to me.
Did Aaditha know?
It’s been three hours since I called her. I dial again. Once. Twice. Thrice. I wait and wait, but the call doesn’t go through.
Where is she?
I feel my heart slipping little by little.
Aaditha is a businesswoman. Is it possible that she doesn’t know what her father’s business ventures are?
Was this all an act?
Aaditha wanted out of this alliance right from the start. She even wanted us to come up with a plan to break it off. She has no reason, she says, to believe in the institution of marriage.
Then, very casually, without word or warning, she announces that her café chain is launching in Jaipur. When she mentioned the location, my first thought was,Great, brilliant idea,but now, when I think about it, even though she signed off on this building, just outside the gates of Ranibagh, well before we met, she didn’t tell me about it. Not before the public declaration at least, even though it was a well-thought-out decision.
What else is she hiding?
I exhale.
Is the chemistry a ploy, a hook? Is she in cahoots with her father?
I feel something in me break, and as I get on my feet, I feel the broken chips fall to the floor. A part of me, maybe.
I meet the smiling countenance of my father as I turn to the door. His expression changes as he eyes me with concern.
‘Yuvraj,’ he says.
I nod.
Father’s valet brings him his afternoon drink, which he picks up from the tray, pushing back on the lounge chair. He points at the seat behind the large desk at the head of the room, which is his place whenever he’s in Ranibagh. He asks me to sit there.
Father and I shadow box in the silence, each waiting for the other to speak.
I’d rather he start talking about anything, weather included.
‘You are looking at the papers,’ he says casually, gesturing at the papers on the table.
