Page 35 of A Kiss in Kashmir

Turning her gaze between the photograph and Alina, she spoke in a voice filled with melancholy and love. Alina, unable to understand the words, turned to George, silently signaling him and requesting translation. George obliged, bridging the gap between generations and the cultures as he conveyed the grandmother’s words.

In English and broken Hindi, Alina managed to explain to her grandmother that she was about to get married. She showed her grandmother pictures of herself and Emilio. The grandmother reached into a small bag she had by her side and pulled out an old red knitted scarf. She explained that it had belonged to Vikram and she wanted Alina to have it.

Finally, after about two hours of conversation, Alina took a deep breath, looked sweetly at her mother, and said, “Okay, Ma.Nowthis makes mewantto have this wedding here. I would like to hold it in April, when the flowers are blooming, now that Grandma here has confirmed that spring is the best time to do it. And Ma, I’m sorry for earlier today.”

Sharmila felt her nose tingle as tears of joy ran down her cheeks. Things could not be better. This was what she had always wanted. When it didn’t seem things could get any sweeter, they did.

“We must get them a red pashmina shawl for Alina’s posh puja, Suraj,” the grandmother said.

Alina looked at George. “What is that?”

“This is for a special part of the wedding, Alina. It is one of the most beautiful rituals of Kashmiri Pandits. A shawl is draped over the couple as they sit together after the ceremony. The family then showers flower petals on the couple, marigolds and roses. It is a quite lovely, ritualistic way of blessing the couple for their new life together.” Within minutes, Alina’s grandmother was busy explaining to her what all the rituals were for a wedding, with George translating as best he could.

Suraj turned to Sharmila. “We insist you stay the night here. With your permission, I would like to take you all to Betaab Valley tomorrow. Alina, I will show you where Vikram painted. Would you like that?”

“Now that’s an offer we can’t refuse, right, Ma?” Alina was delighted. So was Sharmila. This was a perfect step forward for them as a family.

Dinner turned into a village gathering. All the neighbors came to meet Alina and Sharmila. Suraj created a small bonfire outside the house and everyone sat around it. At first, they wanted to know all about the two of them, having heard a little from the grandmother. But soon the fascination turned to the white American man who spoke good Hindi, decent Urdu, and, well, tried to speak Kashmiri, and also knew enough Bollywood tunes to want to join them in a fun little singing game called “Antakshari.”

Alina leaned over to her mother. “What is Antakshari, Ma?” Sharmila explained that it was an Indian musical game where participants took turns singing songs, connecting each song’s first letter or syllable to the last one of the previous song.

“It is a fun game, sort of like ‘Name That Tune’ in the US. I used to love it as a kid,” she added.

With dinner done, everyone around the bonfire joined in and began to sing.

Alina didn’t understand a word, and knew only a few songs from Shah Rukh Khan movies, but finally she felt a connection forming to the land of her father. The love was overwhelming, no matter the language.

They sang into the late hours of the night, feeding the bonfire and each other. Desserts kept coming from different neighbors, the songs getting louder, the clapping and the dancing more energetic. The whole village was rejoicing. The joy of one is the joy of all, Alina’s grandmother explained to her.

Alina called Emilio at work to show him the scene and told him how meeting her grandmother had made her feel that a wedding here would be perfect.

“Yeah, sure, now you can talk tomymother, who’s insisting on nuptials in Italy,” he joked.

“Maybe we should just elope?” she teased with a laugh.

The melodious night ended. As Alina cuddled next to her mom that night, she whispered, “I can’t wait to see where he painted, Ma. You’re looking forward to it too, right?”

Sharmila patted Alina on the head. Yes, she was looking forward to it. But she was looking forward to spending another day with George too. That thought came so quickly, she didn’t even have time to stop it. George had sat by her the entire evening, close. Sharmila wondered if anyone had noticed and then it occurred to her that perhaps shewantedAlina to see it.

To approve, perhaps, and even to accept.

Chapter 14

“We will first go to the gurudwara here and then head to Hagoon,” Suraj declared bright and early in the morning.

Alina looked confused. “I thought you were taking us to Betaab Valley?”

Suraj smiled and explained that the original name for the valley was Hagoon, and that it got the name Betaab after an Indian movie was shot there. “Us locals prefer to call it by its original name. I go up there all the time. It is my place for solace and peace.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. By the way, does ‘Betaab’ mean anything?” Alina asked.

“Eager,” Suraj, George, and Sharmila all blurted out at the same time and started laughing.

Alina said goodbye to her grandmother, who sadly told her that she felt too tired to go with them for the whole day. The rest of them were ready in no time. Suraj packed a small tent for protection from the elements, and also a picnic consisting of aloo paranthas (potato-stuffed flatbreads), his mother’s homemade mango pickle, and some fried lotus stems.

A famous gurudwara, a Sikh temple, was just a few kilometers’ driving distance from the house. As soon as they arrived, Sharmila gasped. “This place, I know this place. I’ve heard about it. Wait—”

“I thought this is your first time visiting Kashmir?” Suraj looked confused. Alina and George just smiled and nodded to each other. It was, as they expected, another painting Sharmila had made based on Vikram’s description.

---