Before starting the 3rd part, I give below the last few lines of the 2nd part.
The following weekend, Sarit and I visited our sisters. I told them what daddy had said. 'Congratulations,' Madhu didi said embracing me, 'Why so morose, you should be happy that you will have a man all to yourself'.
'In a way I am happy,' I replied, 'but what worries me is what will happen if he finds out that I am not a virgin'.
'Yes, that could become a real big problem,' Rashmi didi said shaking her head.
'Is there a way...? Oh jiju this is all because of you, please help me,' I cried in desperation.
'Adi, I am sorry, I can't return your virginity to you but I promise we will try to come up with something to help you,' jiju replied.
'God, what shall I do? Best is that I don't marry at all,' I said crying.
'Don't be stupid. Adi, this way you will make everyone suspicious,' Madhu didi advised, 'Someday you have to marry someone, I suggest if you like the boy say yes and marry him. I have read that the hymen can tear in many other ways also'.
'Yes she is right. In the meanwhile, as Mohan has said, we will try to find a way to help you,' Rashmi didi said, 'now smile and enjoy yourself. Both Mohan and Abhi are raring to go'.
Now the third part:
Before I proceed any further with my story, let me tell you about marriages in our society.
We have different types of marriages. Child marriage (though banned but it is still prevalent), forced marriage, run away marriage (elopement), love marriage, shotgun marriage, inter caste/inter religion marriage and arranged marriage.
It is said that the marriages are made in heaven but in our society, it is the responsibility of the parents to marry off their children. Maybe, this is because we are so many that poor God does not have the time to do it.
Mine being an arranged marriage, we will discuss it in more detail. The normal modus operandi is that the parents 'arrange' that the boy and girl, to be married, meet and "get to know each other". For this they are allowed fifteen minutes, thirty minutes or an hour max.
If they say yes, then they are married and thrown into the same bed. On the wedding night the bridegroom fucks the bride. What really happens is that they "get to know each other" only after the first night. By morning, it is too late for them (especially for the woman) to retrace their steps and per force have to do their best to make the marriage work.
Many will find this system unthinkable, but let me tell you that for centuries this system has been successful in 99.9999 percent or more cases. Till recently, the word "divorce" was not to be found in our local dictionary. This the price we had to pay to for taking up the ways of the western world.
Back to the subject. This meeting can take place at the girl's home with only a few near relatives, the boy and his parents being present. Or they can meet in a big party, naturally hosted by the girl's parents (The boys parents first fuck the girls parents, financially of course and then the boy fucks the girl in the real sense of the word "fuck"). They can also meet in a restaurant or in the lobby of a five-star hotel or in the house of a common friend. My father chose to give a big party.
'Why a big party? It is so expensive,' mummy complained, 'Why not just a small intimate gathering?'
'Seema, in a party the children will be able to interact in an informal atmosphere, away from the watchful and impatient gaze of their parents,' daddy replied, 'besides, I need to invite many of my business associates and personal friends. I will be killing two birds with one stone. Don't worry about the expense. In the end it will work out to be cheaper'.
There was a big discussion as to what I should wear. My mummy wanted me to wear a heavy silk sari with a diamond necklace, matching earrings and a solitaire ring but I insisted that I would like to wear something light in which I am comfortable.
'She would look so underdressed,' mummy complained to daddy.
'Let her wear what she wants. Seema, the younger generation does not like to dress up like we did,' daddy explained and consoled her by adding, 'You can dress her up as you like when she gets married'.
So I ended up wearing a light silk sari, a pearl string with earrings and a single pearl ring.
Please don't misjudge my mummy. She is nice and loves me very much. Her problem is that she is a bit orthodox. She hates wasteful expenditure and detests big parties.
The party was on the lawns of our house. About a hundred guests were expected. I wanted to invite Sarit and few more friends but my father shot it down.
'No,' he decreed, 'Aditi this is not the right occasion to call your friends'.
I understood his concern. What if the boy likes one of my friends and not me?
'But daddy, I must have someone to talk to,' I pleaded.
After a lot of discussion, we arrived at a compromise, just Sarit and no one else.
On the night of the party Sarit and I sat on the verandah (Did I tell you that the verandah was two feet higher than the level of the lawn). I positioned my chair such that I could watch the entrance and also have an overview of the guests
The guests started to arrive. I knew or had seen most of the guests who arrived. A young man, who could be Amit, did not accompany the ones I didn't recognize. Half an hour into the party, I espied a group of four, two men accompanied by a lady and a young man, arrive. They are the ones I concluded. Both the older men bore a remarkable resemblance to each other and were apparently brothers. Daddy and mummy greeted them warmly.
Ten minutes later, daddy escorted the young man to where we were sitting. He was tall, slim and was dressed in a dark suit with a yellow power tie. Mummy was right, he was very handsome. Seeing them coming towards us Sarit gasped, 'Wow! Adi, he is groovy'.
'Aditi, this is Amit,' daddy said introducing the young man. After exchanging the usual greetings, I invited him to join us and introduced Sarit to him. After few minutes daddy said, 'You youngsters get to know each other but excuse me, as I have other guests to look after,' and hurried off.
Amit spent about half an hour with us, discussing different subjects before he also excused himself.
'Adi, you are very lucky, he is sooo handsome,' Sarit sighed.
I barely heard her as my eyes followed Amit. Amit went straight to his father and taking him aside said something to him. Mr. Rudra looked shocked. An animated discussion, more of an argument I would say, followed. Mrs. Rudra also joined them. It was mostly one-sided affair. Most of the time Mr. and Mrs. Rudra spoke. Amit would listen to them and then shake his head. Mr. and Mrs. Rudra would start to talk again but with the same result. Suddenly Mr. Rudra threw up his hands in "do as you please gesture" and Amit walked off.
Catching daddy's eye, Mr. Rudra beckoned to him. Both mummy and daddy joined them. Mr. Rudra said something to my daddy. Daddy's shoulders slumped. Mummy dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, a sure sign that she was about to cry.
So, Amit did not like me. 'Mummy, please don't cry. It is no big deal,' my heart cried out to her, 'There are thousands of other and better fishes in the pond'.
I tried to locate Amit but could not spot him. When I glanced towards the group again, I saw that Sarit's parents had also joined them. Omigosh, this was fast turning into a meeting of the UN General Assembly. Only person missing was Amit's uncle. Oh, oh, I think I spoke too soon. There he comes too.
Daddy was speaking to Sarit's parents but both of them were shaking their heads vigorously. The uncle had joined them. Mr. Rudra spoke to him. He smiled broadly and said something to them. Whatever he said put the smiles back on everybody's face.
Daddy looked happy and mummy stopped dabbing at her eyes. Sarit's parents nodded in approval. Walking away from the group, Mr. Rudra and his brother whipped out their cell phones and the group broke up.
All what I have described above did not take more than ten or fifteen minutes.
'Adi, are you listening to me or are you already dreaming about Amit?' Sarit said nudging me.
