To Love And Be Loved

Vansh cursed, slamming the brake while simultaneously swerving the car to the left to avoid hitting the bike that materialised before him virtually out of thin air.

And as if the bike hadn’t just cut into a one-way lane, the rider had the nerve to scream at him, “Hey! Are you blind!?”

“Am I—You fucking sonofa—”

“Language, Vansh,” his phone chirped — or well, the woman on the line did, her voice annoyingly happy for ten in the morning.

“Shut up, wanna-be-Steve-Rogers.”

“I am strictly Team Iron Man, babe.”

Vansh rolled his eyes and his lips definitely did not curve up into a fond smile. “Your fiancé nearly got into an accident with a bike. Aren’t you even a tad bit worried about me!?”

“You’re in an SUV and they were riding a two-wheeler. Who do you think I should be concerned about in case of an accident?”

“Me, because had I hit the biker, I would have been the one to go to jail.”

Her reply came instantaneously. “Still don’t see what to worry about.”

Vansh’s jaw dropped open. “Naisha!” The cackle that he got in return was more than rewarding but was he about to let her know that? Absolutely not! “I can’t believe this is what you had to say about your fiancé potentially going to jail!”

“Don’t be dramatic, Vansh,” she chided, “You’ve been back to Kolkata for nearly eight years now. Stop acting like you expect us, Indians, to have any sense of decorum on the road. Also, you’re the one who’s talking on the phone while driving. If anything, it was equally your fault.”

“Of course, you’d say that,” Vansh scoffed. “You know what, I’m going to be a responsible citizen right now and hang up. Have a good day, Miss Banerjee.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” She sang in a ridiculously faux nasal tone. “I know you’ve reached your parents’ house. You’re just scared Aunty will see you chatting while driving.”

“Hello! You’ve met my Mom, right? There’s nobody more terrifying than Hardipa Grewal.”

Naisha’s laughter boomed through the phone once again, sounding staticy over the line but feeling no less endearing to him.

“Also, how did you know I’ve reached?” Vansh was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Why, through Vivaan, of course!” Naisha confirmed what he had already suspected. His snitch of a younger brother! Couldn’t get a date himself but spent every waking moment flirting with his fiancée.

“Whatever!” He pulled the handbrake with the characteristic ratcheting sound. “I have to go now. I’ll talk to you later?”

“I have Nilesh’s engagement party to attend this evening so I probably won’t be home until late. Why don’t you text me once you return?”

“Alright.” He balanced his mobile between his left shoulder and ear as he alighted his car. “Bye. I love you.”

“I love you too, hon.” The smile in her voice would be obvious even to a blind person. “Let me know how it goes?”

He rolled his eyes at the question. “It will go like every other meeting with Deshpande does. Boring.”

“Oh, come on! You’re the first case among your brothers for the receipt of your inheritance!”

“So, I am a case now?”

Naisha ignored him. Rude. “I want to know how much money I’m gonna marry into.”

“Sure. The daughter of one of our investors wants to know how much money she’s marrying into. Makes perfect sense, baby.”

“Weren’t you getting late?” Her cute voice was laced with annoyance now which only amped up her adorableness. “Go! Shu!”

“Bye!” The wide grin that had taken up residence on his face since the moment Naisha’s call had come through did not dim for even a second as he walked up the steps of his parents’ porch and rang the doorbell, pocketing his phone into his jeans as he breathed a sigh.

He didn’t have to wait for more than a minute before the huge doors of his childhood home (“Don’t be ridiculous, Vansh! It’s a mansion!” “Go away, Naisha!”) swung open, revealing the beaming face of his elder brother.

“Bhai!” He attacked his brother with a bear hug without giving the man a chance to so much as blink.

Vedant laughed. “I missed you too, Vansh!”

He pulled away from the hug with a wide beam. “How’ve you been, Bhai!?” He leaned in with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “How’s Pakhi?”

“Shush!” Vedant rolled his eyes. “If I were you, I would worry about myself. You’re nearly twenty minutes late and kept Mom waiting. I wish you all the luck in the world, little brother! You’ll need it.” He finished with a self-satisfied smirk.

Vansh would have retaliated had he not been preoccupied with praying for his own health. He only hoped he preserved even a small modicum of his hearing ability after his Mom was done ranting at him.

“Bhai!” He latched on to his elder brother’s arm with the sort of desperation that only younger siblings in trouble were capable of donning. “Do something! Please! I’ll cover for you the next time you have to give our Sunday brunch a miss for a date with Pakhi!”

“First of all, there’s literally nothing I can do here. Today’s meeting has been set up for you and you were supposed to be here at ten sharp but you’re late. The consequences are all yours. And secondly,” Vedant disentangled Vansh’s wrapped arms from around himself with the expertise of a stone-hearted brother that he was, “That was one time and I told you I had an urgent meeting. It was not for a date!”

Vansh pouted before he eyeballed the ceiling with the exasperation of a man who had been having to play dumb to respect his elder sibling’s boundaries since forever. “Please Bhai, all of us know it was a date with Pakhi. Let’s not insult my intelligence as well as yours now.”

“You know what?” Vedant faux grinned. “I was going to distract Mom until Mr. Deshpande got here but I won’t anymore. By all means, Vansh, suffer!”

His eyes widened. “Bhai, no! Bhai, please! No!” He grimaced when the man walked away and into the living room without a single glance backward. “Bhai!”

~~~~~

Vansh’s conversations with his mother had never been too smooth, or even fruitful for that matter. They always left a lot to be desired for after. They would nearly invariably devolve into a screaming match between the two and end with one or both of them storming out of the room, swearing up and down how they would never talk to the other ever again.

Of course, the vow of silence rarely lasted and it would not be long before their problems were forgotten in favour of watching a good movie or munching on their favourite dishes or gossiping about ’that one couple who were seen fighting in that one wedding that had taken place in the May of that year’.

After all, they were family and family was forever.

That, however, did not mean all their issues were solved. No, they were merely papered over, masked amateurly and kept in disguise, festering until it was required again in another argument, waiting patiently to be wielded once more as a sharp-edged dagger in the form of words.

Vansh often wondered but never really understood the reason behind their stilted relationship. He just knew it had been so since as long as he could remember. He also knew that this wasn’t the case with his siblings, especially his elder brother.

When it came to Vedant, his Mom was a completely different person than how he saw her. She was more involved, more concerned, more interested in Vedant’s life and while it wasn’t quite the same for Vivaan (the youngest child in the Grewal family), it wasn’t as bad as it was for Vansh either.

Maybe this was what people referred to as the ‘Middle Child Syndrome’.

Whatever it was, his Mom had never expressed, or even vocalised, her love for him. Vansh was fine with that. It wasn’t okay, of course, and it had taken him a long time — time that was spent in numerous therapy sessions and long, deep conversations with Naisha — to drill into his mind that it would never be okay for a parent not to show their love to their child. Plastering a label of ‘Middle Child Syndrome’ and calling it common would never make it alright for a parent to ignore their child.

Lately, things had been a lot better, especially after Naisha and he started dating which made sense considering she was his mother’s best friend’s daughter and was practically the favourite of the Grewal family even though she would not be an official part of it for another three months.

Three months, after which Naisha would officially become Naisha Banerjee-Grewal and he Vansh Grewal-Banerjee. Yes, they were taking each other’s surnames.

And said wedding was the sole reason why the family was having a get-together for other than their usual Sunday brunches.

Darvesh Grewal, his grandfather, God bless his soul, had set aside a certain amount of money — Vansh called it certain because he didn’t actually know how much it was — before his death, to be inherited by him and his brothers when they were to be married.

There were naturally other clauses — inheritances seldom came with few — like they were to be married before forty else they’d lose not only this money but also their share in the family’s other properties, yada yada yada.

None of them had ever really read the papers, never bothered to. They just had a general idea of what not to do and their parents had let them live their lives their way for the most part.

Today’s meeting with Deshpande was about the aforementioned inheritance money and the clauses attached therewith.

Mr. Sahil Deshpande was their family lawyer, having taken over when Deshpande Senior had decided to retire five years ago.

Needless to say, his mother hadn’t been too happy with him for coming late to his own inheritance meeting but thankfully, she hadn’t yelled much at him. Apparently, getting married had some perks like being excused from parents’ general discipline. Who knew?

Deshpande’s knock on the door (metaphorically speaking; given the technology at their disposal, the man had obviously rang the bell) had come at ten-thirty on the dot, ten minutes after he had reached.

And as they sat in his father’s study, which used to belong to his grandfather, waiting for the man, who had become successful at a relatively young age when compared to the other sharks in the same profession, Vansh had a funny feeling in his guts.

Deshpande cleared his throat before he spoke, “Good Morning, ladies and gentlemen. As we all know, we are gathered here to read the will relating to Mr. Vansh Grewal’s inheritance now that he has decided to tie the knot.” The man briefly smiled at him before his spectacled eyes went back to the papers in his hand.

“Mr. Grewal’s inheritance is quite straightforward. Mr. Darvesh Grewal’s condition was only one for him. To be married prior to completing forty years of age. I can see here Mr. Vansh is only thirty-two now,” he looked up for confirmation, nodding when he received it, “so, there’s nothing else here to be complied with by him. As such, Mr. Vansh will be eligible to receive rupees five crores as part of his inheritance from his grandfather.”

Vansh felt his brows rocket up. Five crores!? That was a…bit much, wasn’t it?

The Grewals were in no way underprivileged. Their family business of textiles, that had been founded by his grandfather, had taken off in the late sixties and since then it had shown an upward trajectory only. Currently, their business was being handled by Vedant as the CEO. The man, however, had a lot of other companies to his name too.

Vansh, himself, was made the CFO of the company after having returned from Harvard with a degree in business and another in textile engineering.

Vivaan was still being groomed.

Yet, five crores as inheritance for only taking the vows seemed a tad far-fetched even with the Grewals’ penchant for extravaganza.

“That’s great news!” His Dad cheered. “I don’t have to worry about the wedding expenses now! With the kind of list the kids have handed, I was thinking I’d go bankrupt with the first one itself and the two others of mine would remain bachelors for life.”

“And what a life that would be, Dad!” Vivaan chuckled, then shrieked when he got swatted at.

“Congratulations, little bro!” Vedant clapped his back with a wide grin while his Mom merely gave him a small smile.

Vansh was still happy though.

“Ahem!” Deshpande harrumphed, politely smiling when he successfully managed to get the room’s attention. “Mr. Grewal,” he addressed Vansh’s Dad, “I believe there’s another clause that might be relevant to the current matter at hand.”

Balwant frowned. “I thought you said Papaji had only one condition to be fulfilled?”

“Well, in Mr. Vansh’s inheritance clause, yes. However, I was going through Darveshji’s papers last night to make sure I hadn’t missed anything and uh, there’s a clause attached to Mr. Vedant’s inheritance that might prove pertinent here.”

Vansh could virtually feel the confusion vibrating off Vedant. “What’s that, Mr. Deshpande?” his elder brother asked, flummoxed.

“Mr. Darvesh Grewal had attached a special clause only, and only, for Mr. Vedant. He had made it so that in order for Mr. Vedant to be eligible to receive his inheritance, he would have to marry the girl Darveshji had already chosen before his death.”

“Papaji did that?!” Balwant sounded scandalised. “He never mentioned anything of the sort to me!”

Vansh’s grandfather was a strict man — as was the case with most old men — and liked to rule the family as well as the company with an iron fist but he wasn’t an unjust person and he never tried to dictate how other people lived their personal lives.

In fact, Vansh’s own parents had had a love marriage which hadn’t been too common in their times — as their Dad liked to remind them at every chance he got to flaunt his bravery.

Yet that wasn’t what was rubbing him in all the wrong ways. Of course, the clause was a terrible, terrible one but how was it connected to Vansh’s inheritance? He wasn’t trying to act selfish or mean. It was just…something was amiss here. He had one of those feelings.

Apparently, Vedant had the same thought. “Who’s the girl, Mr. Deshpande?” He questioned as he took a single step forward, his tone dropped low and there was a certain amount of scepticism in his voice.

Deshpande’s face turned grim. He took a deep breath and said the words, that unknown to him at that time, would seal all of their collective fates. “Darveshji had chosen Miss Naisha Banerjee to be the wife of Mr. Vedant Grewal.”