And Thereby Hangs a Tale

“Thank you, Father.”

“No doubt your mother has already warned you that we have a little surprise for you this evening.”

“And I have one for you, Father,” he said quietly.

“Another promotion in the pipeline?”

“No, Father. Something far more important than that.”

“That sounds ominous, my boy. Shall we retire to my study for a few moments while your mother changes for dinner?”

“I would like Mother to be present when I tell you my news.”

The Maharaja looked apprehensive, but stood aside to allow his wife and son to enter the study. Both men remained standing until the Maharani had taken her seat.

Once the Maharani had sat down, Jamwal turned to his mother and said in a gentle voice, “Mother, I have fallen in love with the most wonderful young woman, and I want you to know that I have asked her to be my wife.”

The Maharani bowed her head.

Jamwal turned to face his father, who was gripping the arms of his chair, ashen-faced, but before Jamwal could continue, the Maharaja said, “I have never concerned myself with the way you conduct your life in Delhi, even when those activities have been reported in the gutter press. Heaven knows, I was young myself once. But I have always assumed that you were aware of your duties to this family, and that in time would marry a young woman not only from your own background, but who also met with the approval of your mother and myself.”

“Nisha and I are from the same background, Father, so let’s be frank, it’s not her background we’re discussing, but my caste.”

“No,” said his father, “what we are discussing is your responsibility to the family that raised you, and bestowed on you all the privileges you have taken for granted since the day you were born.”

“Father,” said Jamwal quietly, “I didn’t fall in love simply to annoy you. What has happened between Nisha and me is something rare and beautiful, and a cause for celebration, not anger. That is why I returned home in the hope of receiving your blessing.”

“You will never have my blessing,” said his father. “And if you are foolish enough to go ahead with this unacceptable union, you will not be welcome in this house again.”

Jamwal looked toward his mother, but her head remained bowed and she didn’t speak.

“Father,” Jamwal said, turning back to face him, “won’t you even meet Nisha before you make your decision?”

“Not only will I never meet this young woman, but also no member of this family will ever be permitted to come into contact with her. Your grandmother must go to her grave unaware of this misalliance, and your brother, who married wisely, will now become not only my successor, but also my sole heir, while your sister will enjoy all the privileges that were once to be bestowed on you.”

“If it was a lack of wisdom that caused me to fall in love, Father, so be it, because the woman I have asked to be my wife and the mother of my children is a beautiful, intelligent, and remarkable human being, with whom I intend to spend

the rest of my life.”

“But she is not a Rajput,” said his father defiantly.

“That was not her choice,” replied Jamwal, “as it was not mine.”

“It is clear to me,” said his father, “that there is no point in continuing with this conversation. You have obviously made up your mind, and chosen to bring dishonor on this house and humiliation to the family we have invited to share our name.”

“And if I were not to marry Nisha, having given her my word, Father, I would bring dishonor on the woman I love and humiliation to the family whose name she bears.”

The Maharaja rose slowly from his chair and glowered defiantly at his youngest child. Jamwal had never seen such anger in those eyes. He stood to face his wrath, but his father didn’t speak for some time, as if he needed to measure his words.

“As it appears to me that you are determined to marry this young woman against the wishes of your family, and that nothing I can say will prevent this inappropriate and distasteful union, I now tell you, in the presence of your mother, that you are no longer my son.”

________

Nisha had been standing by the barrier for over an hour before Jamwal’s plane was due to land, painfully aware that as he was returning on the same day, it could not be good news. She did not want him to see that she’d been crying. While he was away she had resolved that if his father demanded he must choose between her and his family, she would release him from any obligation he felt to her.

When Jamwal strode into the arrivals hall, he looked grimfaced but resolute. He took Nisha firmly by the hand and, without saying a word, led her out onto the concourse, clearly unwilling to tell her what had happened in front of strangers. She feared the worst, but said nothing.

At the taxi rank, Jamwal opened the door for Nisha before climbing in beside her.