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The wooing of Parijat
[ Author's note:In India, where the custom of arranged marriages is prevalent, one of the initial stages is that the bride and groom meet and decide if they like each other enough to go ahead with the marriage.This story is about that stage.]
“I won’t. I won’t. I won’t. And that’s final.” Parijat stormed out of her parents’ home, leaving them dismayed.
“She is young.” Her mother said excusingly.
“Rubbish. She’s headstrong.” Exclaimed the father angrily.
“She takes after you.” Observed the sister dispassionately.
“There’s a time and place for everything.” He snapped back at her.
The mother smiled. ”Indeed there is. You leave it be.”
So when the intended came ’girl-seeing’, he found Parijat in a subdued but stormy mood. She hardly glanced at the ‘boy’. When he requested a private talk with her, she all but laughed in his face. Her father accepted fearfully, and pointed to the garden surrounding their house.
Parijat led the way with studied aloofness. When they were alone, the young man said, “Perhaps now you could look at me, instead of my shoes.” Then when she continued to look down, ”If I had known you were so interested in footwear, I would’ve worn my best pair.”
Parijat was surprised into a smile. She looked up at his amused face and looked away immediately, angry with herself for the impulse.
“Ah that’s better. Are you a very quiet person, perhaps? I am not.” He was trying to make conversation in the face of her earnest appraisal of a nearby jasmine bush.
“Don’t tell me you are afraid to talk to me!” He exclaimed finally.
“I am not.” She retorted, stung.
“What then? Unwilling?”
“Maybe.”
“Okay that I can accept. Did they spring it on you at the last moment? Or is it me you don’t like?” He asked in a matter of fact manner.
She resented his tone, though that was why she was angry. How dare he perceive so much? What did one reply to such a question asked by a stranger?
“I don’t know.”
“I am so glad.” He rejoined warmly. “I was so afraid it might be me.”
Parijat’s face went hot and cold by turns. “Do you want it to be not you very much?” She asked with difficulty.
He never took his earnest eyes off her face. “Yes.” He said simply.
Suddenly things were not the same. The eyes gazing into hers took on an all-enveloping look that made her feel wrapped up in cosy warmth. “What shall I tell my mother and father?” She asked in a whisper.
“Yes?” He questioned also in the same soft whisper.
“Yes.” She replied, bowing her head to hide the sudden new joy that flooded her.
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Wondering about writing dialouge