"Stop pacing around like a madwoman, Aashi," my mother berated from the couch she was perched on elegantly, maintaining a deceptively calm facade on her face. I rolled my eyes and continued pacing across the room. The last week had passed perilously slow, making me impatient with each passing day. I hadn't been able to see Abeer after the afternoon at my place last Sunday. We both had been busy, yes, but more than that, it was my parents. They had refused to let me see him, outright and then gone to great lengths to ascertain that I didn't meet him behind their back by taking me for outings over outings the entire week.

I had reached my limit. It was Sunday again, and Abeer and his family were going to come for lunch to officially meet my parents. It was quarter past twelve on my watch; they had to be here in fifteen minutes.

My mother chuckled from behind me. "The last I had seen you this anxious was the day of your twelfth standard board results. You had taken to pacing around the living room just like this," she giggled and continued to do solve her sums in her notebook. My mother had this weird obsession with sums. Whenever free, she would take out her notebook and begin doing her math, referring sums from her mobile phone. I had always thought that as an extremely weird habit of hers. It took her mind of things, she always used to say whenever I had commented upon this absurd activity of hers. 'And makes your brain shaper; why, you should do it herself'; I always took that as my cue to shut up.

Just as I was beginning to lose my track of thought, the doorbell rang, making me jump in my skin. My mother was on her feet in a jiffy and called out to my father, who was lounging peacefully in the balcony with not a care in the world.

I strode forward and pulled the door open before my parents could say anything. It was considered rude for youngers to open the door when there were elders in the house, but I was past the point to care about all that. I blinked twice as I saw an older man, dressed crisply in a black shirt that fit him snugly. Abeer's dad looked painfully fit and grim, standing there on my doorway, towering over me in an intimidating fashion. Abeer definitely didn't inherit his warm smile and comely features from his father, I thought wryly as I managed a smile in his direction. He didn't return the smile.

I was part thankful when my mother grabbed me by my arm and pulled me back, taking my place on the porch, smiling at the guests in our house. My father stood beside me and welcomed Abeer's dad, his two sisters and an older lady inside, motioning them to take a seat on the couch in the living room.

I looked over my mother's shoulder at Abeer's elder sisters, smiling kindly at my parents and exchanging pleasantries. I had to agree; the Sen siblings shared the most beatific smile I had ever laid my eyes on until Abeer waltzed in my life, and it decidedly didn't come from their father. They smiled freely, without abandon, unlike their father, who only managed a half tilt of his lips when his daughters nudged him to do so. I could make out who was who from the pictures Abeer had shown me of his sisters. But mostly so because of the way they carried themselves.

Abeer's eldest sister, Adhi, looked like she meant business. She was quieter, and more poised than her other sister. Adhira, on the other hand, was more vocal and firm, her eyes sharp as she regarded the lot of us.

"We had been told you both are married. Your families didn't come today?" My mother asked the both of them as she passed on glasses of water around.

"No aunty, they didn't come down to India with us. Since we gave them such short notice, they couldn't manage to take a leave," Adhira said, taking a sip of her water.

Mom nodded, and sat down beside my father. "And you are...?" She asked, smiling kindly at her.

"Oh yes, introductions! How silly of us," Adhira laughed and nudged her sister to take it from there.

"I am Adhi, the eldest. Then this is Adhira, elder to Abeer, and our baba," Adhi said, motioning to her father sitting beside the older lady, across my father. Abeer had taken a seat beside his sisters on the couch, whereas I stood silently in a corner, observing the scene before me.

"And she must be your mother," mom said and smiled at the lady sitting beside Mr. Sen in the chair. I saw the three siblings tense at that. Cognizance hit me as I understood who she was. I internally groaned at what was about to happen further.

"Ahh...no, our mother passed away when Abeer was fourteen," Adhi said quietly. "This is Abhijita, baba's to-be-wife," she said, motioning to the lady dressed in an elegant black and red sari, bearing the kindest smile on her face.

My mother's smile dropped. I saw my father purse his lips and look at Abeer's father, who looked back just as so. I caught Abeer's eye who looked just as worried as I was.

"It is very nice to meet you," I spoke up to cut the tense silence, smiling. My mother's head jerked towards me as I was greeting Mr. Sen's wife-to-be, glaring daggers at my back. I tried not to wince. Abhijita's smile deepened as she regarded me with warmth and love.

"It is very nice to meet you. I don't think I have heard any family conversation go by without a quip about you from Abeer," she said jokingly and laughed a musical laugh. A light blush graced my face at her words. "And oh, I almost forgot," she slapped her head lightly and went to retrieve something from her handbag. Out came a beautiful red saree with a golden border, one unlike anything I had seen in Mumbai or Delhi. She stood up and walked to my mother.

"This is a very special Baluchari saree from Kolkata. Our neighbours are marwari, and they were positive you would love this one. This is for you," Abhijita said smiling and thrust the saree in her hands. My mother continued to look at the gift in her hand with a mixture of awe and surprise.

My eyes widened as I clamped a hand on my mouth to refrain from laughing out loud. What a slick maneuver Abeer had pulled up! I looked at my mother as she struggled to keep the displeasure on her face.

She murmured a faint thank you and roamed a hand on the covered saree, probably wondering how it would feel in her fingers.

"Do you have children, beta?" My father asked when he saw mom was fixated in her own world and wasn't going to get out of it any soon.

"Adhi does. Our cute little Aaradhya," Adhira said and playfully shoved her sister's shoulder. Papa smiled pleasantly. He loved small children. He would always coo and gesture adorably at babies who walked by with their parents.

Adhi smiled sweetly. "What happened to your mother, if I may ask?" father asked, his voice suddenly grave.

"She suffered a heart attack," Abeer's father spoke for the first time, forcing all the eyes at him.

My father nodded gravely. "She was a heart patient, then?" He asked as the people around him grew tense. My anxiety doubled.

"No, it happened suddenly," I cut in before anyone else could say anything, staring at my father in a way that said 'no more questions about their mother'. He tore his eyes away from the Sen family and cocked an eyebrow at me, but didn't say anything.

"So Abeer," Abeer straightened as my father called out to him. "Is this your first job? Where did you work earlier?"

He cleared his throat. "Sir I was working in Kolkata in a law firm for two to three years before I came to Delhi. Here I was in Kapoor and Co. for a brief amount of time before landing the job I have today," my father nodded, looking down where he was tapping a foot. Suddenly, he stopped tapping and whipped his head to look at Abeer, his eyes urgent.

"What did you say? Kapoor and Co.? Where Aashi works?" He asked, his movements frantic.

"Yes, papa. That is how we met," I said, my voice growing worried. I glanced at him, waiting for him to look at me, but he didn't and continued to stare at Abeer and his family.

"So you must have known first-hand the fiasco in Bangalore conference?" He asked, his eyes boring into Abeer's. My heartbeat sped. I could sense where this conversation was going. I saw his elder sisters glance at each other worriedly. Mr. Sen's jaw had gone taut at my father's questionings, he too was staring at his only son, waiting for his reply.

Abeer gupled, and with an impassive face, he replied, "Yes, I do, sir."

"What is your surname, Abeer?" He asked, his voice low and cold.

I shook my head at Abeer, willing him to not say anything. But he did, and my father's entire mien grew frigid and cold after realising who Abeer was.

"Papa..." I started, fear bubbling up my throat. This time, he did look at me, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Taira is your best friend, isn't she?" he thundered, his voice no longer honeyed. Mom glanced at the two of us with mildly concealed confusion, and then looked at Abeer's family, as if the truth was written on their faces.

My parents only knew what media had shown. The whole part about Abeer trying to get to Taira through me never made it to the media, thankfully.

"Papa..." I almost begged, wanting to get past this as soon as possible. But my father was not in the mood to let the topic go. He stood up and walked to me, not caring about Abeer's family watching our family scene with newfound horror.

"You should have told us about this, Aashi. You did not do right," he said, his voice low with barely controlled anger. My mother hurriedly stood up from her place in the chair and came towards us.

"What happened? Why did you get up from there?" She whispered, looking from me to her husband. But papa ignored her.

"Why didn't you tell us about this?"

"Because I didn't find it necessary," I said, squaring my shoulders.

"DIDN'T FIND IT NECESSARY! What has gotten into you, Aashi?" He thundered, making me take a step back.

"I didn't find it important," I said, but quietly this time.

"And why didn't you find it important, Aashi?"

"Because it was a mistake. What is the point of numbering all his mistakes to you? His mistakes do not define him. What defines him is that he realized them, and moved on!" I exclaimed, my eyes firm.

"You tell us his mistakes when they are as huge as this," he thundered. "This boy was so strung up on revenge that he, for once, didn't think of his family, of his reputation, of their reputation, of his father's honor - he did not even think of his own career! What kind of a boy is he? What does this speak of his upbringing?"

I saw Abeer's father get up, and his sisters followed. My panic mounted. Mr. Sen was about to stride forward towards papa, but Abeer and Abhijita held him in place, Abeer mouthing a 'no' to his father.

I faced my father, my face taut with anger. "But the truth is, THAT HE DID REALIZE ALL THAT! And more! And he set to right his mistakes. PUBLICLY! What is it that you don't understand about it?"

"You're going way out of line with this, Aashi," he warned.

"Amit, is this about Taira's father's fiasco and what Abeer did in Bangalore?" My mother hissed, glancing over my shoulder at Abeer's family worriedly.

He faced my mother, surprise written on his face. "How did you know about that?"

"What do you mean how did I know about that? My question is, how did you not know about that? It wasn't rocket science to figure that out. Aashi," she said, pointing at me. "She had already told us he was Abeer Sen, and then I had figured that they had met in the office. Because as much as she likes to defy us, she's too much of a workaholic like you to go anywhere else other than office and home. I might not know everything about my daughter, but I know her," she said sassily when the two of us looked at her with identically surprised expressions on our faces. "And then she had come to us for two months straight and looked all sullen and confused before the Bangalore conference, you remember? And after the Bangalore conference, well, then we both saw it all over the news. How did you not figure that out?" She asked papa, who continued to stare at her, unblinking. She ignored him. "It was all so plain!" She exclaimed incredulously.

"But...but then how did you not know his mother was no longer alive?" Father asked, his voice dazed. Mother twisted her face sadly.

"I had forgotten that little fact."

"Then if you already knew all this, how could you agree to this marriage, Aruna?" He asked, confusion written on his face.

She sighed, peeped a little over her shoulder and then turned to my father, her eyes resigned. "I agreed to this because of what happened in Mumbai," she said quietly, unlike herself.

"What do you mean?" He questioned, his brows furrowed.

"He stood by her, Amit. He came to Mumbai with Aashi and did not once leave her side. Neither made any attempt at fleeing away. He stood rock solid and took in every insult and jibes your family threw at him. Even when he saw how very demented the lot of us were-"

"Aruna!"

She looked up at him, her eyes flashing. "What? It is the truth, Amit! And you know it. We acted completely out of line there, and yet, he did not budge away. And then when we came back here," she gulped before continuing. "He treated us with utmost respect. He did not sound bitter about Mumbai at all. That speaks more about his character than his past mistakes, Amit. And it also speaks about his unflinching devotion to our daughter."

It took everything in me to not fling my arms around my mother and give her a tight hug, but I held my ground. My father looked caught in a conundrum, unable to refute mom's points. I always knew she would have made a great lawyer. After a brief moment, he looked up at me, and stared. Hard. I looked back with equal ferocity. He then sighed, rubbed the bridge between his eyes and walked back to his chair. My heart danced as my mother followed him, a mildly satisfied look on her face.

I caught Abeer's eye to see him close to tears, his face overflowing with happiness. He knew just as I did - it was finally going to happen. Everything was out in the open, and everything was done and said. It was time.

Papa cleared his throat and started talking. "We had put together a sum for Aashi's wedding, for gifts and everything which were required in a marwari wedding, but since that's not the case," he paused, glancing at Abeer's family, "we'll put that in an FD on Aashi's name."

Mr. Sen nodded quietly. "Yes, that is good. It is her money, and financial independence is very important." My father looked thrown off by his words, as he blinked to remain on track.

"But wait. The money was for Aashi's wedding, yes? Then why the entire amount?" Mother asked, confused.

"They'll be having a court marriage, no?"

"Who said anything about court marriage?" I blurted out, frowning.

My father looked at me with a mocking expression. "You surely didn't expect an entire wedding party, did you?" He raised his eyebrows, a half smile playing on his lips. "With our customs and traditions and rituals?"

I opened my mouth and closed it when no sound came out. I felt my heart deflate. Truly, I didn't have anything against a court marriage, but God I wasn't a fan of it. This was perhaps the most feminine of my wishes. A full-fledged wedding. I had seen quite a number of them, and I had always wanted one of mine. I bit my lip, and shifted on my feet, trying to wade out the disappointment out of my heart.

"You would perhaps like to talk about the wedding with Abeer's family, Amit?" My mother bit out, visibly irate at my father's high-handedness. He looked at his wife and sighed, and turned to Abeer's father.

"What do you think about it, Mr. Sen?"

Abeer's sisters looked at each other, and then at Abeer, who shrugged, indicating his nonchalance on the matter. What only mattered to him was the marriage. Any form of wedding would do.

"We take pride in our customs and traditions," Mr. Sen started, looking coldly at my father. He didn't like being managed, I noted grimly at the expression that passed between them.

"So do we," papa replied, staring right back at him.

"My daughters have got married in the proper Bengali way. I would like the same for my son," he said, his voice clipped.

"Our Aashi will get married our way, too. This isn't done, Amit. What is getting married on a piece of paper? You don't value our customs and traditions?" Mother questioned, gripping her husband's hand.

"Of course I do!" His eyes flashed as he looked at mom. "But you know why I am saying this." She pursed her lips at those words.

"Then let's have a small wedding. Just your family and mine. And well, the groom's side, of course," she said, looking at Abeer's family. "I don't care how big or small the wedding is. But she should get wed according to our rituals," she said stubbornly, her tone indicating she wouldn't take no for an answer. Papa sighed and rubbed his forehead.

Adhi got up from her seat and whispered in her father's ear, which had him frowning. After a while, Mr. Sen cleared his throat. "We have a suggestion," he said, garnering my parents' attention.

"We could have your wedding first in Mumbai, or Delhi, as you please, then our bengali one the next week in Kolkata. We have a number of guests that would attend the event. We won't have it anywhere else," he said rigidly, making his children hiss in disapproval. He ignored the three of them.

My parents looked at each other, and then at Mr. Sen, and slowly nodded. My eyes widened as I gawked at them. I couldn't believe what had just transpired. I blinked, trying to ascertain if it were truly happening. And then I pinched myself, and yelped lightly when the pain hit me. And then I smiled the widest I ever had.

"But no non-vegetarian food. That's our condition," my father said quickly and mother nodded enthusiastically. I was on cloud nine to actually pay attention to them.

"That's fine," Abeer said quickly before anyone else could say anything. His sisters and father looked at him, disappointment painting their faces. Abhijita smiled slyly.

"Our guests are going to be disappointed with no fish in the buffet, shona," Adhira teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"They can shove it in for one wedding," Abeer rolled his eyes, but he didn't look annoyed. He glowed with happiness, making my heart beat wider. "And its not like they haven't attended a Bengali-marwari wedding before, we already have marwari relatives," he said and flashed his two sisters a devil-may-care smile. And then he looked up at me, his eyes glimmering with love and happiness. And a promise of a beautiful forever.

I looked over to my mother bustling with happiness, all things about inter-community marriage thrown aside at the prospect of getting her daughter married. She almost ran inside and rushed out with a plate of ghewar, feeding everyone the sweets of good news. Amidst the hustle and bustle, Abeer slipped out from the mayhem and made his way towards me, a rakish smile on his face. He stood beside me and coughed.

"What should we call you after marriage, my lady?" He whispered, slipping a hand over my shoulder and pulling me closer against him. I almost purred with satisfaction at having him close to me after a week.

I looked up at him, my eyes mischievous as I grinned. "Why, Miss Singhania is just fine."

His laughter rang through the room.