Chapter 7: Gauri

Marriage was: a country.

Not a: metaphor — a literal country, with: borders and customs and a language that I was: learning. The country of Abeer Malhotra. The country of: Vasant Vihar, where we lived now — in the bungalow, in the rooms that had been: prepared for us on the: first floor, the rooms that Surender Papa ji had renovated with the: specific care of a man who wanted his son's wife to feel: at home in a house that was: not her home.

The rooms were: beautiful. High ceilings, the: teak furniture that the Malhotras had collected over: generations, the bed that was: new (thank God, some things should not be: inherited). The window looked onto: the garden, the garden that Ramu kaka maintained with the: devotion of a man who believed that plants were: people, which meant the garden was: immaculate, every hedge: trimmed, every flower bed: arranged, every tree: spoken to.

But marriage was not: rooms. Marriage was: mornings.

Abeer's mornings were: structured. Five AM: wake. Five-thirty: gym — the home gym in the basement that contained: equipment worth more than my first: car. Six-thirty: shower. Seven: breakfast — two eggs, one paratha, black coffee, the Economic Times. The routine was: unbreakable, the schedule of a man who had: systematised his life the way he systematised: acquisitions — completely, efficiently, without: deviation.

My mornings were: chaos. Wake: whenever my body decided. Stumble to: kitchen. Chai: first, before any other human interaction. The chai was: non-negotiable — the chai had to be: made by me, because other people's morning chai was: wrong. Not wrong in a: specific way — wrong in the: existential way that morning chai made by someone who was not: you was always: wrong.

The collision happened on: day four. The morning after: we returned from the honeymoon in Kerala (the houseboat on the Alleppey backwaters, which had been: Abeer's idea, and which had been: perfect, the water and the silence and the specific intimacy of two people learning each other in a: floating room). Day four of actual: married life. In the: kitchen.

"You're using: my coffee machine," Abeer said.

"I'm making: chai."

"In: my coffee machine?"

"I'm boiling: water. The machine: boils water. I'm using it to: boil water."

"The Breville is calibrated for: espresso extraction at exactly ninety-three degrees. Chai requires: a rolling boil. You're: damaging the calibration."

"Abeer. It's: a kettle."

"It's: not a kettle. It's a: Breville Barista Express. It cost: forty-seven thousand rupees."

"Then it should be able to: boil water."

He looked at me. I looked at: him. The morning — the fifth morning of: our marriage, the morning after the backwaters, the morning in the Vasant Vihar kitchen at: six-forty-five AM — the morning: hung between us. The first: disagreement. The first moment where two people who had: chosen each other discovered that choice included: coffee machines.

"I'll buy you: a kettle," he said.

"I have: a kettle. It's at the Jor Bagh house."

"I'll have it: brought."

"I'll get it: myself."

"Gauri."

"Abeer."

"It's: a kettle."

"Exactly. It's: a kettle. Not: a negotiation."

He: smiled. The full smile. Not the almost-smile of the terrace, not the: Calculator's micro-expression. The full, unreserved, morning-in-the-kitchen smile of a man who had just discovered that his wife had: opinions about kettles and that the opinions were: non-negotiable.

"I'll make: space," he said. "For the: kettle. On the: counter."

"Next to: the Breville."

"Not: next to. Adjacent. With a: buffer zone."

"A buffer zone. Between a kettle and a: coffee machine."

"Boundaries are: important."

"In: appliances?"

"In: everything."

The kettle arrived that: afternoon. Bimla aunty brought it — Bimla aunty who had been: cooking for the Khannas and who now came to the Malhotra kitchen twice a week because I had: negotiated her presence into the marriage the way other brides negotiated: jewellery.

The kettle sat on the: counter. Next to the Breville. With: a buffer zone of approximately four: inches. The buffer zone of: a marriage learning its: geography.

*

The foundation work continued. This was: non-negotiable — the one condition I had set before the: wedding, the condition that Papa and Surender Papa ji and Abeer had all: agreed to: the Khanna Foundation remained mine. My: work. My: mission. Not absorbed into Malhotra Industries' CSR portfolio, not merged into the: corporate structure, not made: subsidiary to the marriage.

"Different: elevators," Abeer had said, remembering.

"Different: buildings."

The office on KG Marg was: unchanged. Sunita ran the: programmes. The Barmer borewells were: being drilled — Abeer's eight crore at: work, the water coming, the girls: staying in school. The retention numbers from Ajmer were: up. The Lady Shri Ram scholarships had been: awarded. The work: continued, and the work was: the part of my life that was: mine in a way that the Vasant Vihar bungalow was not yet: mine.

I sat at my desk at: three PM on a Wednesday and the: phone rang.

"Mrs. Malhotra?"

The name: landed. Mrs. Malhotra. Not: Gauri Khanna. Not: Gauri. Mrs.: Malhotra. The name that was: not mine and was: mine, the name that I was: carrying now the way I carried the: ring — with awareness, with: adjustment, with the specific weight of a: new identity.

"This is Gauri," I said. "Just: Gauri."

"Ma'am, this is: Rajan. From the Malhotra Industries: legal team. I'm calling regarding the Khanna Capital-Malhotra Industries merger: proposal."

"The: what?"

"The merger. The: consolidation of Khanna Capital's investment portfolio with Malhotra Industries' corporate holdings. Mr. Harinder Khanna and Mr. Surender Malhotra have: agreed in principle. The paperwork is being: prepared."

The: phone. In my: hand. At my: desk. In my: office. The words: merger, consolidation, agreed in principle. The words that meant: the thing I had feared since the IIC lunch. The thing that Mohini had: warned about. The thing that Delhi families: did.

The marriage was: not just a marriage. It was: a merger. And the fathers had: agreed. Without telling: us.