A Perfect Mismatch by Leena Varghese Read Free Book Online

a friend’s father whom she deeply respected. Zara had helped him as a personal favour to her friend, with the tax auditing for his local garment factory. It had been gifted with a lot of affection and she had never been able to discard it. Zara had kept it as a souvenir and it had lain untouched at the back of her wardrobe.
    She ironed out the creases with a deep sense of foreboding. Pacifying herself with a lecture that it was not a real engagement anyway and hoping fervently that people would not notice the cheap tinsels smattered liberally across the shiny fabric, she began to get dressed.
    Aparna was the first one to snigger, her mouth agape at the sight. Zara walked in through the door and a hush fell on the small gathering. There was a giggle from Bani standing close to a furious Armaan.
    “Oops! I think I need my glares!” Bani trilled.
    “Why didn’t she wear the dress we bought for the engagement?” Aparna whispered, stifling a bubble of incredulous laughter.
    “Bet, she wanted to stand out in the crowd on her special day!” chortled Bani maliciously.
    Armaan stewed in silence, utterly disgusted by the sight. Why had she done this? She was probably tryingto humiliate him. Revenge! That seemed to be the only reason for such an act of complete defiance. The flaming orange, Chinese silk
salwar kameez
with its multitudes of folds smocked at the chest and the puffed sleeves made her look like a giant marigold. It was heavily embroidered with cheap mirror work and tinsels, the golden thread making it highly ostentatious and gaudy. The elegant
kundan
necklace looked mismatched with her loud dress.
    He glowered at Bani when she giggled a third time as Zara touched the feet of the elderly guests for their blessings. The only thing that seemed right was her hair. It was pure silk, he noted, arrested by the sight, though only mildly appeased. It was left open, cascading down her back all the way down to her hips. Thank God, for small mercies he thought bitterly! Zara touched his mother’s feet with a grace he couldn’t deny and lifted her eyes to him, adjusting her gaudy gold
dupatta.
Their eyes met for several seconds and she hastily averted hers. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a need for approval. It was masked so quickly that he dismissed the silly thought. Zara would not need anyone’s approval. Her eyes shone with a steely glint as she moved ahead to meet another relative.
    “You must get the designer’s name. Might get you splendid business for your boutique!” Bani was irrepressible.
    Aparna shook her head in disbelief and whispered again, “We don’t deal in upholstery! Where did she get the dress anyway? From the Nizam of Bijapur’s palace furnishings?”
    “That is enough!” Armaan cut in. He stepped forward grimly to stand beside his would-be bride as the cameras flashed.
    Once the rings were exchanged and the rituals were over, everyone relaxed and chatted with the couple over steaming hot delicacies. Vini was by Zara’s side most of the time. Armaan could see that they were getting along better than he expected. More than once, he saw Zara holding his mother’s hand and smiling happily. She looked radiant when she smiled. Her lips were lush and pink he noted, vaguely distracted. He had hardly spoken to her himself, not trusting himself to say a word without exploding into a tirade.
    He did get a chance to speak with her once while having lunch and gritted out to her in a low voice, “You seem hell-bent on insulting me in public!”
    Zara was stunned by the suppressed fury in his tone and looked at him with a challenge. “What have I done
now
to irk the emperor?”
    “Don’t be condescending! Why didn’t you dress appropriately?”
    “Are we going to argue everyday about what I wear for the next six months?” Her anger equally matched his.
    He curbed an oath. “Do you have to be so defiant all the time?”
    “Exactly! Is it so relevant that you should chew on my brains at this