32. The Sound of Dhols
Our timing was impeccable to say the least.
***
I packed my suitcase once Jhanvi texted me my uncle had booked our tickets to Brazil. She sent photos of the tickets she bought for us for India. Both flights were at the same time tomorrow. The India flight was the same flight as Ashar's except we were to travel first class.
It classified us as first class liars.
At the end, we decided that it wouldn't make much difference to our parents if we went to India instead of Brazil. We were going to be far away regardless.
I was being crazy stupid for chasing after Ashar all the way to India and somehow, it seemed reasonable.
"Ashar," I said aloud. "How long are you planning on giving me the silent treatment?"
He was busy packing last minute things for the flight tomorrow. His suitcase was packed three nights ago, but that was more in haste. He was taking time packing his belongings neatly on the sofa ten feet from my bed. I was shoving my makeup kit in my overflowing suitcase.
He barely lifted his eyes at me before returning to his packing.
"Come on," I said trying to get some response. "Aren't we supposed to be truly, madly, and deeply in love? You're ignoring like I'm a . . . scam call."
"That's exactly what you are," he said finally. "You try to lure people in with lies and do fraud."
That was the longest sentence he had spoken to me since our meeting with mom.
I gave up closing my bag and went up to him. He zipped up his bag.
"Do you believe I'd hurt Aara?" I asked him calmly. "I don't even know what drugs were found in her bloodstream. Actually, where would I even find a drug dealer in the first place? You might think little of me, but I'm Ravi Majhraut's daughter. I wouldn't stop this low to hurt someone else's daughter with a bag of cocaine or something."
He met my eyes briefly and then he bent to close his suitcase. When he rose back up, he held my gaze.
"Heroin," he said.
"Huh?"
"That's what the doctors found in her blood test."
"The trustees are trying to figure out who's responsible for this," I assured him. "Once the culprit is exposed, you'll know I'm innocent."
"Why's that important?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion.
"Because . . . " I trailed off not knowing how to tell him how important his feelings were for me.
"Because . . . ?"
"I don't want you to question the way my parents raised me."
He almost laughed. "I didn't see you caring about that since the day we got married."
"You always expect the worst from me," I said disappointed. "Trust a little."
"You expect me to trust you after what you did?" he asked. "Even if I believe you for a moment you're not behind Aara's condition, you can't justify your actions for getting my history."
"I'm sorry," I said surrendering. "It was a while ago, Ashar. You were secretive, and I . . . wanted to know a little more about you . . . and your family. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too," he said solemnly, "because I can't let this go."
He put the suitcase on the floor and laid down on the sofa.
"After reading about the accident," I started, "I never tried finding out who Arsalan was or who your mum and dad were. Who is Rosie? How is she related to you? Nothing. I stopped right then and there, realizing the mistake I made. I shouldn't have snooped. You wouldn't be this upset if I had burned that file before you saw it."
Ashar gave me no response.
What a waste of speech.
Since it was late and the flight was early morning, I decided to sleep as well. It took me a few minutes of jumping up and down on my suitcase before it zipped up. Talking about his file made me remember the gift he had given me. It laid abandoned in the study room.
I quickly retrieved the pendant he had gifted me and put it around my neck.
Ashar's portion of the room was dead silent when I returned to the room. I wondered if he was still alive but then I heard deep breathing.
Soon enough, my eyes drooped, lost in his thoughts.
* * *
The following morning, Ashar and I bid the girls and my grandmother a goodbye for now. Ashar had told his sisters we were going to India to visit his father. Little did he know, that was the truth.
I made sure to hug the girls and assure them I'd bring back presents. They were much sweeter than their angry brother who had scoffed when he heard me making promises to his sisters that I'd bring back souvenirs.
Jhanvi met us at the airport dressed in an oversized, pale blue floor length dress that had navy blue flower designs. She wore a knee length coffee colored coat on top with matching boots. The outfit was strange for winter time, but she pulled it off.
"Hi, Annie," she said sweetly. "Hello, jiju (brother-in-law)."
Her devious smile concerned me. Ashar politely returned the greeting and asked about her health and my uncle's.
At least, he wasn't rude to my family.
"All good. We better get going," Jhanvi said apologetically. "Our flight's boarding soon. See you later."
"Yep," Ashar said unsuspecting. "In a month. Hope you both enjoy your vacation."
"Oh, we definitely will." Jhanvi grinned like a monster.
"Have a safe flight, Ashar," I said and grabbed Jhanvi's arm.
Before she could ruin anything, I dragged her away towards the boarding. We had the freedom to board early which I took deliberately. We went through the first class lounge and entered the plane before others.
We had to take precautions to not get spotted by Ashar.
When we had settled in our seats and the attendant brought us food, I received a phone call from Jhanvi's ex husband.
Instead of hitting decline, I accidentally pressed accept. Jhanvi was in the bathroom which got me stuck with my phone raised to my ear.
"Annie, just listen to me," Sunny said before I could hang up. "I know you're mad at me, but let's meet once. I can explain everything to you."
"I can't," I told him. "I'm—"
"Only once," he begged. "Half an hour—"
"Sunny!" I interrupted. "I'm going out of town for a month."
"What?" The surprise in his tone made my nerves worse. "Where —?"
The rest of words were hard to make out under the overhead announcement for passengers to begin boarding. I cut the call not caring how Sunny perceived it as. Hopefully, he'd understand I wasn't interested in a chit-chat with my cousin's cheating ex.
Jhanvi returned from the bathroom looking exhausted. All the excitement and color has drained from her face. It made me forget about the uncalled for call.
"Flight hasn't even taken off and I'm nauseous," she said sighing.
I handed her ginger ale and let her rest in her seat. In the meantime, I messaged my mom and my uncle we were in flight. They wished us a safe journey and to keep them updated.
Papa would've disowned me for this huge lie . . . all for Ashar. I didn't even know how Ashar was going to react whenever we landed in India. What would mom say? I would have to beg Ashar to not tell her anything.
I decided to rest while I had the chance.
* * *
We disembarked the airplane before economy class passengers which included Ashar. Jhanvi and I had changed our outfits before the landing to avoid Ashar recognizing us. This included wearing scarves to cover our mouths and hair. We added large black sunglasses for style and sun protection.
"Why is this necessary?" I hissed to Jhanvi as we followed behind Ashar at a distance. "We're already in India. Let's tell him we're here."
"He can still call our families and send us back at the airport," she replied leaning close to me. "We have to make sure we arrive at the final destination where his family is present. No one will send us back then."
The crowd outside the Indian airport was beyond insane. People spoke loudly and in multiple languages. Car horns were blowing throughout the parking lot. I thanked Jhanvi mentally for the scarves when I got in contact with the dust.
Ashar was frantically waving at taxis. One minute later, he was nowhere in sight.
"Where'd he go?" I asked worried.
"He's over there," she said pointing in a random direction. "Come on."
Gripping my suitcase handle tightly, I hurried behind Jhanvi. She hailed a taxi faster than Ashar who was getting into a taxi in front of us.
We quickly sat down inside the taxi and Jhanvi told the driver to follow behind Ashar. The poor confused man did as asked.
"I'm starting to not like this plan anymore," I told Jhanvi. "Maybe we should go to Brazil instead."
Jhanvi removed her sunglasses and shook her head. After loosening the scarf around her neck, she breathed deeply.
"I can't get on an airplane again," she said, sweat beading her forehead. "I'm still nauseous."
I couldn't blame her either. The contents in my own stomach twisted and turned like a blender. We kept our eyes on Ashar's taxi. He got off at a bus stop unfortunately.
We paid our driver and followed suit. Jhanvi's face fell staring at the jam-packed bus.
"Do you really like him?" she asked me. "Maybe we should go back."
Rolling my eyes, I grabbed her and moved forward. Thankfully, Jhanvi had converted the dollars into rupees before we left America. We paid a bit extra for an extra seat in the back of the bus. It gave us enough space to sit comfortably without strangers accidentally brushing against us
While Jhanvi fell asleep on my shoulder, I kept my eyes on Ashar who sat on the aisle seat like a statue. What was going through his mind? Aara was three when his father left them. That was roughly fourteen years ago. First, he watched his dad leave his family. Now, he was going to watch his dad leave the world.
I couldn't have ever watched my dad counting his last breaths.
Poor Ashar. Losing both of his parents.
* * *
"Jhanvi, wake up!"
"Five minutes." She began slapping me drowsily as if I was an alarm.
"Get up! Ashar is getting off!" I had to shake her to make her move out of her seat.
The bus started moving as we got off the back of the bus with our luggages. Ashar was too busy staring at a piece of paper in his hands to notice us standing ten feet away from him. Maybe he assumed we were random travelers.
Instead of walking down the road to his destination, he took a rickshaw. Jhanvi and I had to run to follow behind the rickshaw almost half a mile before we found a rickshaw for ourselves. Ashar better be grateful for all the effort my cousin and I went through for him.
We almost thought we had lost him at one corner but then we entered narrow streets of a neighborhood that had two or three story houses. The houses had towering gates and some of them I noticed had more area in the back. That wasn't what found Ashar for us.
It was the sound of . . . dhols?
And screams and laughter and singing.
The rickshaw stopped behind the crowd of people blocking the rest of the street. We got off and paid the man as we couldn't move further.
"What's all this?" Jhanvi asked the rickshaw man. She pointing to the throng of people singing along with a DJ.
"You don't know, madam?" the rickshaw driver said. "The village head's son returned from America today. Everyone's celebrating."
Jhanvi and I exchanged a look.
Before we could've made a u-turn to a nearby hotel or inn, one of the girls nearby glanced up and down at us and our suitcases.
"Did you come with Ashar bhai (brother)?" she asked. She was petite girl maybe a year or two younger than me with a sharp nose and striking hazel eyes.
"Yes, she's his wife," Jhanvi said pointing to me. I glared at her for giving us away. "I'm the sister-in-law."
The few people who had heard us nearby hooted.
Two guys grabbed our bags calling me "bhabhi" (sister-in-law). The girl along with a few others pushed us forward announcing our relation to Ashar on the way.
By the time we reach the front gate of the Ashar's father's two story white house, everyone in the crowd knew I was the wife and Jhanvi my sister.
Ashar was standing stiff as a board in front of a white bearded man with a royal blue turban on his head. He was the same height as Ashar and he was hugging his Ashar with tears in his eyes. A five foot tall woman in her late fifties stood behind the man wearing a green salwar kameez. She was wiping her cheeks, giving him blessings.
"His wife is also here," the girl who brought us there told the woman.
Tears of happiness brimmed in her eyes.
The old man and Ashar turned to face us surprised.
Our timing was impeccable to say the least.
* * *
A/N
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—K-K-Kiran