"A woman can gauge how much a guy really cares about her when he wants to make conversation with her even after a particularly vigorous bout of lovemaking!" Randhir grinned, looking like a cat who got the cream.

"Apne muh miya mithu!" Sanyukta smiled at him equally contentedly. She knew she could never get enough of her lover whom she was happily but secretly married to.

"Hey, a man's got to like himself enough to be able to care about the one he loves! Anyway, don't you think that Tapur is hot as magma? Sharad cannot see straight with her around, actually neither can most normal guys. I saw even Dad giving her a once over!" Randhir thought nothing about uttering something irreverent when he was with Sanyukta, an indicator of their growing intimacy.

"Shut up, I know your Dad could never commit infidelity, not even emotionally! Though I am not so sure about his son!" She responded.

"For a man of any age checking out a desirable woman is natural, it does not count. We are born like that. Some of us are forthcoming, therein lies the difference. I know my Dad won't cheat on Mom, he has had plenty of opportunities to, but it ain't happening!" Randhir sounded confident.

"I find that a bit unusual. Considering your father's family background, I mean, no offence, but his extended family has had quite a history! Everyone knows!" She raised a doubt.

"Oh yes, the infamy!  Our clan had dabbled in glorious polygamy in the days gone by. Granddad's great aunt was older than her husband, and later he had to take her niece as a second wife. Even when the younger wife was modern and educated she was forced to keep purdah. The husband was free to see whoever he fancied on the side. His particularly famous affair was with an attractive Hollywood starlet who, after a heady romance with him became ridden with guilt that she would be breaking the heart of the two existing wives if she ever became his third. This happened after she insisted on her lover introducing her to the women. She struck such a friendship with the younger wife that she realised the most honorable thing to do was to walk out on the man."

"He was so miffed by the starlet's rejection that he immediately charmed a stunning teenage princess into replacing her. After he took this trophy wife he literally forgot he had other wives and their children waiting in the wings. It never got out that unable to withstand their loveless marriages both the senior wives literally drank themselves to death, dying while still in their forties. Our history is thick with such tragic tales, especially since we come from a culture that once glorified both jauhar and sati. Dad would narrate these stories that his granny told him." The mood suddenly turned sombre as he shared more details with Sanyukta.

"Randhir, I am just curious. What do you think went on inside the head of that man who forced his senior wives to live a cloistered life while he enjoyed the good times summering in Europe with the sophisticated princess? Was there no guilt at all?" Sanyukta thought she would love to peep into the minds of such men.

"I think that was a crossover generation. Those men were born into orthodox Rajput nobility but were sent to Europe for education where they were free to sow their wild oats away from public scrutiny. They dated countless women as they were rich enough, as long as they married right to form political alliances. These made-up pairings were rather pragmatic and devoid of any emotion. The tradition-bound wives were brought up to expect loneliness. They were compensated with generous allowances to make their lives comfortable while they lived in palatial, well-staffed mansions. They presided over feasts and festivals, weddings and childbirth but had no existence beyond the purdah. For their husbands they were simply out of sight, out of mind." Randhir wondered how a husband could be so detached from a woman he had consciously married.

"Thank God things are not the same anymore. Had I been born in those times I'd be better off as a ploughman's wife than a prince's!" Sanyukta could now see why Randhir's father was so loyal to his wife, as a teen he had been sensitised to the plight of the neglected wives of his ancestors through the stories told by his grandmother. 

They went off to sleep in each other's arms as they had to get up fairly early in the morning. The rituals for Vishakha's wedding would begin before dawn although only the immediate family would be up to participate in them. Sanyukta rose before Randhir, gathered her clothes and went for a shower so she could be dressed and ready before Aman and Vidushi woke up. 

After breakfast the rituals continued and the auspicious ululu sound made by women accompanied the blowing of the conch shell every now and then. The bride had been anointed and bathed before she was sent to change. Snacks and warm beverages were being served on demand. Sanyukta and Aman enjoyed piping hot phulkopir singaras stuffed with a spicy mix of cauliflower and potatoes while Vidushi and Randhir sipped tea with egg chops as they lingered nearby. To their amusement Tapur stayed close to Sharad who was delighted to have her attention and blushed each time Randhir winked at him stealthily.

Lunch was a relatively lighter affair of daal bhaat, begun bhaja, potoler dolma and the ubiquitous curried and fried fish. Sweet sour chutney made from raw papaya and dates was served with papads and mishti doi. Nobin and Shaila were everywhere, being the perfect hosts, meeting family and friends and making conversation with them. Renuka and Robin were discussing something animatedly, while the cousins had the best time with their friendly banter. Randhir and Sanyukta stole glances at each other when they thought no one was looking.

Vishakha looked resplendent in her gold jewellery, brocade Banarasi saree in bridal red and her red and white bangles . Sanyukta remembered her own wedding, a private affair where most of the guests invited had been complete strangers to the family. And yet she had felt touched to receive their blessings. Her only regret had been that her mother could not attend her wedding. Sanyukta had been toying with the idea of introducing Randhir as her husband to her mother but Randhir had gently asked her to reconsider it. No mother would be happy to know that her daughter had to keep her marital status concealed from the world. It would make her question the validity of the relationship. 

The wedding ceremony wound up after puffed rice had been offered to the sacred flame and the groom had sprinkled vermilion in the bride's hair parting. Sanyukta longed to wear sindoor, the customary mark of a married woman. It was ironic that she would spend nights with Randhir and yet have to behave differently during the day when others were present. Nobin da had gifted her some pieces of Madhabi's jewellery and Sanyukta wondered if she could ever wear those in the family's presence. More than anything else she wanted to visit Madhabi's room because she had always felt an inexplicable connection with her. Nobin da had promised her a tour of the room and Sanyukta waited patiently to be allowed access to the room which was nothing less than a shrine for her.