Jasmine and roses

He smiled to himself wearily as she approached him, with the customary tray of teacups and oily savouries. Under carefully lowered eyes, he saw that she was wearing a bright crimson shade of expensive silk, which rustled faintly as she moved. Her mother motioned for her to keep the tray on the table and the unnatural silence that had fallen on the small room was temporarily broken, providing a cue to the small gathering to resume their small chatter. She seated herself beside her mother, coyly glancing in his direction, and then, when she thought nobody was looking, noted his broad forehead and his expensive looking rimless spectacles. He sat between his parents: his father, a distinguished lawyer, and his mother a full-time charity worker. From the way he was stationed, it was obvious that he was their only son. His finely tailored suit which sat comfortably on him, and the classy slim gold watch on his left wrist looked too good to be Indian. He looked quite academic, thought Anitha; will I be able to keep up with him? Maybe he isn't as academically inclined as he looks… maybe that's just a facade… maybe he's scared of this really 'Indian' Indian family… and thus lost in her reverie, she hardly realized when Appa asked her to show Vivek around the house.

'Holy Christ!' thought Vivek to himself, not another boring walk around the place, having been witness in the short span of the past three days, to horrendously long and boring stories about how ten-year-old dogs had breathed their last at a particular place, and how the girl in question had hid for four long hours in the oh-so-old-looking antique cupboard. Ever since he had landed in India with the express purpose of finding a mate before the month ran out, he had been subject to the same ritual, but this time, he felt it was different. Maybe the girl, maybe the house, but it sure felt… definitive? And as Anitha led the way to the lush green lawn, invitingly visible from the large French windows of the drawing room, he breathed a sigh of relief -- and the sweet scent of country roses. Anitha moved about lithely, looking almost as pretty as the crimson roses themselves, as they silently made their way on the soft and crunchy green grass. The setting sun provided the most perfect setting, reflecting gold while bouncing off the leaves and the tall coconut swayed gently, as if charmed by the old midget of a sun.

Feeling every bit of the awkward 'prospective' groom, Vivek coughed a little to add a human element to the beautiful natural setting, and Anitha chuckled to herself. Realizing his awkwardness, she pointed to the nearest rose bush, and rattled off its history -- both domestic and botanical, after overcoming a bout of sudden tongue-tiedness.

Vivek listened to her and nodded. His interest in plants was restricted to the 1-800 FLOWERS florist under his office, whose services he availed of to hand his aging secretary, Ms. Bertie an occasional rose. Anitha took him to various plants and bushes, and patiently explained the history of each bush, and each time she moved, Vivek caught a whiff of the fragrant jasmine string in her hair, which looked stunning against her silky long tresses. Before he knew it, the jasmine mingled with the country roses, and seemed to pervade each molecule of his being in a way that seemed to shock him. And when they were finally called in to re-discuss, he didn't want to leave Anitha's side at all. He prolonged the stipulated time, by sharing some of his disturbingly late night work schedule in New York with Anitha, almost apologetic for the fat paycheck that contributed to the golden Accord stationed outside. But what unnerved him was the way he seemed to relish the raw scent of the two flowers mingling together, touching him, like nothing ever had.

In all of his life in New York, he had been exposed to the most pungent and verdant smells, yet, nothing tickled his brains and moved his senses as much as this heady fragrance. It surpassed the expectant feel of the smell of rain on dry earth, the air of comfortable milkiness around a newborn child and the taste buds-tickling sense of fresh white butter on puffed rotis. He seemed to want nothing but Anitha and the roses encased in this ethereal perfume. The sweet pervasive smell seemed to cloud his brain into a rosy-hued oblivious mass -- much like the hangover of dark spirits and he felt… happy. It was in this joyous state of headiness that he parted ways with Anitha -- his father promising Anitha's father that he would let him know soon.

It was almost twenty-four hours since the meeting that Anitha's father received word from Vivek' s father. Vivek had said 'yes' to the marriage -- his only condition was that the marriage pandal be covered in jasmine and roses. (Jan 04, 2005)