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But Armaan couldn’t get out of it unscathed. He loved and respected his father deeply and that trust was broken. For Armaan an inspiring figure was tarnished beyond repair. He learned to shut out everyone after that. He doesn’t trust anyone. You have to earn his trust. Help him heal. Only you can do that! All you need is a little empathy between the two of you to push this marriage forward and things will be fine.”
    Zara could only nod silently as the conversation veered towards the wedding trousseau, both relieved and saddened that Vini was going to be heartbroken in the next few months. As for her own emotional health, Zara thought it wise to keep her heart safe by not getting too involved in Armaan’s life.
    From then on things rushed headlong, beginning from the shopping required for the wedding and the umpteen visits to the clothes boutiques and jewelry stores all in the span of two hectic days.
    Zara’s aunt went berserk with the arrangements for the engagement. With her usual flair for dramatics, she outdid even Bani, who sulked all day in her room claiming a headache.
    Soon Zara found herself sandwiched between her aunt, her future mother-in-law and Aparna and her two children, who were to ‘help’ her find the right attire for the engagement and the perfect trousseau for the wedding two weeks later. In a whirlwind of shopping and taking measurements at Aparna’s own boutique, Zara found herself nodding her head in sheer exasperation, to all theitems that were flourished in front of her for approval. She just didn’t care about how she looked for this circus. All she wanted was to escape to somewhere quiet where there would be no arguments and discussions on rituals, price tags, designer labels, and all the paraphernalia of a fancy fast-forward wedding.
    The only thing that gave Zara satisfaction was that she was able to pay for many of the items without a twinge of guilt about the expenses. She was independent and could bear the expenses. Zara had proudly insisted on paying, politely brushing aside her mother-in-law’s requests about wanting to pay for the whole trousseau. Not wanting to be left behind, Aunt Sudha bought her an exorbitant set of pearls. As the other wedding expenses were shared by both the families Zara stopped her from any more extravagance.
    Zara was beginning to be torn with guilt about the sham she was enacting. She liked her mother-in-law and felt like a cheat buying a beautiful trousseau for a fake wedding. She might as well pay for it herself, she thought, trying to ease a bit of the guilt that was eating into her.
    After breakfast, on the morning of the engagement, Zara sat in a frozen state in the balcony of her room in her aunt’s house where the small formal ceremony would be held, only for family and close relatives. Her aunt had come in twice to check with her about what was keeping her so long. She walked about the room restlessly, sipping hot lemon tea. The rich burgundy and gold
lehenga
with its gold embroidered organza
dupatta
lay untouched on the bed. The tiny gold sequins and glossy pearls seemed tomock at her. Aparna had selected this one specifically for today. The rest of the dresses were still to be stitched and altered according to her size for the wedding.
    The silk slithered sensuously between her fingers. It was beautiful and she wondered if it would suit her. All her life, she had lived frugally, her pride preventing her from asking for more than what her guardians had provided. The habit had stuck through her teenage years into womanhood and even though she was well-placed in her firm, she still did not pay too much attention to her dressing.
    After a long mental debate she had decided to inform a few of her friends and colleagues about her wedding. She had always kept a low profile and didn’t feel that a pseudo wedding was the occasion to change that. She told her best pals Sumana and Pari, cutting out the truth about the contract. For them it was real and