All Strings Attached

Chapter Two

"But Thathayya, this is such an uncertain time. Elections are coming up, this is the time for me to campaign, gain people's confidence, I need a plan, I need to do things for the people, make them believe in me."

"The elections are a year and a half away," his grandfather reminds him. "You have been preparing for them. You just need to find some time off to get married."

Dhushyanth's eyebrows furrow into an unsettled frown. "I can't marry a girl and leave her to do her thing while I do mine, Thathayya. How am I going to find a girl who will marry me in six months? How will she be happy with someone whom she knows nothing about? How will I be in a happy marriage with someone I know nothing about?"

Vilakshan Reddy laughs out loud, thoroughly amused by his grandson's thoughts. "Once you marry, everything will fall into place."

I wish.

~.~.~.~.~

Sita

"Sita," Meera tells me, "just get married, man. I'm telling you— I'm living my best life."

"Then go live your best life," I snap at Meera, grimacing just as soon as the harshness leaves my lips. My emotions always get the best of me around Meera. "I'm sorry, Meera—"

"No, it's okay," Meera smiles kindly, "you're upset, I understand."

I almost never lose my cool. Almost. Cause clearly, I just did. More often that not, it happens around Meera- my best friend? My comfort person? Both of those and also the only person who's made it safe for me to express exactly how I feel.

"It's not okay," I murmur. "I shouldn't have yelled at you," I apologise, "I'm sorry. I don't want to speak about marriage or getting married, okay?"

"Okay," she agrees, albeit reluctantly. "Have you heard? Megha's getting hitched."

"Why is marriage the only topic of conversation?" I criticise, getting off the couch to find my favourite wine and corkscrew.

"Cause it's wedding season," she states, as a matter-of-fact. "Obviously, not everyone's marriage is a national issue—"

She has the audacity to grin sheepishly at me when I glare at her. "Honestly, though, Sita, that was a fucking low-ball move," she empathises, "bitch had no right to bring up your personal life in the assembly."

"It was fucking low," I agree, "and so nasty. Why does he care about my marriage? Honestly, though, it's just my dad's fault for bringing up his son's divorce."

"You know, uncle should've said at least he isn't selling you for money— the other guy took a hundred crores in dowry for his son—"

"The entire thing is so fucking horrible, the dowry, bringing up the divorce. My god, these are people who have the liberty and responsibility to make effective changes and they fuck around, talking about their children's lives in assembly? It's disgusting—

"Politicians are disgusting," Meera choruses with me, making me laugh out loud when I realise how often I say the phrase.

"I'll marry anyone so long he's not a politician," I declare, curling my mouth in distaste as the sour flavour of the word lingers on my tongue.

"No you wouldn't," my best friend calls me out, taking the wine glasses and wine from my hands as I fall over the back of the couch onto my seat.

"No, I wouldn't," I agree. "Meera, we should've gotten married, man. I'm telling you- it's not too late to leave Veer."

"The prenup's too tight for me to gain anything out of my short marriage to Veer, baby," she tells me, "give it two years, and we'll get something out of it," she jokes, rubbing her fingers together as she winks at me.

I laugh out loud, knowing no such thing is ever going to happen. Meera is worth at least ten times as much as Veer, and the prenup's that tight because her dad made it so.

"How is Veer doing?" I inquire about the budding entrepreneur. "I saw him on The Times magazine the other day— the article was quite sharp."

"Papa was so impressed," Meera gushes, "he invited Veer for a drink, even!"

My jaw drops at that. "I can't believe you didn't tell me until now!" I slap her arm, crossing my legs as I turn to look at her. "What did uncle say?"

"He told Veer how brilliant his responses were, and how knowledgeable he sounded—"

"Veer went to university at Stanford, of course he had brilliant, knowledgeable responses—"

"I know!" Meera agrees, exasperated by her father's behaviour towards her husband. "But it's great that Papa's coming around at least now, and that he's seeing Veer's potential."

"I feel like uncle always knew Veer is capable of big things," I tell her, "I think he's simply not liked the idea of you moving to Delhi to live with Veer and his gigantic family, and has had a terrible case of the bhayankara-raksha-pita—"

Meera bursts out giggling as I say the phrase— "where do you come up with shit like that?" She asks me, laughing louder— "it's so lame."

"It's so smart," I argue, in good humour. "I thought out the Sanskrit for an overprotective father in less than a second!"

"Which is smart, I agree," she concedes, "but just such a stupid way to put it!" She continues to laugh boisterously, cracking me up as well.

"Hey!" I fake offence, but when Meera doesn't take me seriously, I try the cutesy method. "But it was smart, wasn't it?" I plead, looking at her with my puppy dog eyes.

"It was," she lets me have it, toning down to a chuckle.

"Wait!" I stop her before the conversation takes a different turn. "I needed to say something about why your dad always gave Veer such a hard time!"

"What is it?" She asks, looking on at me, curiously.

"I can't remember," I struggle to remember. How do our conversations take such turns anyway? Veer and his gigantic family and moving to Delhi! "Right!" I exclaim. "I think it's cause you were moving in with Veer and his gigantic family, and moving to a whole new city. Considering that you are a single child, I think his concerns were very valid."

"But Veer's family is so sweet!" She cries, slamming her hands onto the sofa. "They're genuinely such sweet people, and it is a joint family, but they give us our space, you know? And Ma? She's such a fucking sweetheart, yaar! She told Veer off for going on long-ass business trips and not taking me out and shit— and it's just— they're all very well-balanced; they give us our space, but they're also always available for me to lean back on, and I love it."

Yaar, I note. Delhi must be rubbing off on my best friend. "Your mother-in-law sounds like a dream," I tell her. "If you find me one like her, pelli cheseskunta," I declare. [(Telugu) I will marry]

"Bro, if you do find a mother-in-law like her, you should hundred percent go for it," Meera agrees, "they're a fucking wonderful family."

"I don't think I could handle a joint family," I think out loud. "I love being around people, and having company and all of that but I think constantly being around people would definitely get to me."

"Considering how similar we are," Meera says, "I think you'd love being in a joint family."

"I can't even handle being home with my parents for two weeks at a time," I counter. "How will I manage a whole-ass other family?"

"Things with your mom and dad are different, I think," she objects, softly, glancing at me from the corner of her eyes.

"That is true."

My mother's suggestive remarks about Dhushyanth linger on the top of my mind, and I wonder if I should tell Meera about them, but I hold myself from mentioning Dhushyanth to Meera, lest she comes up with theories of her own. When she continues to speak about Veer, and their recent date to a restaurant in Delhi, I let her take over the conversation, and fill me up on her life.

A/N

I know the POV keeps changing from first person to third person, but that's mostly a decision I've made based on what the story needs. I hope it's not too annoying, do share your thoughts!

Much love, 
Anuradha