THE HOMECOMING

                                                                THE HOMECOMING

The rude sound of the door bell jolted Anirudh out of his slumber. He turned his head to the clock on the bedside table. It was 07:00 am, Sunday. He wished for whoever it was at the door to go away.

He groaned and disentangled himself from his beautiful wife. The bright rays of the morning sun streamed in from the window, highlighting her exquisite features. He kissed her and caressed her blonde tresses, before forcing himself out of bed

He peeked into his daughter Jodie’s bedroom before climbing down to the hall. Only her golden curls could be seen from the door. Her packed knapsack was on the study table. In a little while, they would all leave for the beach. He looked forward to lazing in the sun with his family.

The bell rang again. He opened the door.

“Hi, son.”  Anirudh froze at the sight, his face contorting in a mask of dismay. It was his parents from India.

“We wanted to surprise you.” It was his mother. She smiled warmly.

His discomfiture was not lost on them. “All well son?” his father asked getting inside the house without waiting for an invitation.

“How nice to see you both,” he managed weakly not sounding happy at all. He closed the door behind them. 

“I had a meeting in New York.  Your mother insisted on coming along.”

Anirudh walked his parents to the sofa and seated them.

“Who is it darling?” He cringed at the voice behind him.

His parents were shocked at the woman standing beside their son.

“Baba, Ma,” Anirudh started meekly. Baba and Ma, being the Indian term for father and mother respectively.

“My wife Christi,” he managed to say at last. “Christi, my parents.” He wished the earth would swallow him.

“What! “ Both his parents screamed in unison.

“Have you gone mad?” His father screamed. He was glaring at his daughter-in-law. She looked so different in her one piece camisole with a robe over it as compared to Anirudh’s mother in her traditional sari with vermillion on her forehead.

“Why is that man screaming, papa.” Anirudh closed his eyes in despair as he heard his daughter’s voice. “Why did God have to take me through all this?”

“Papa!” This time it was his mother screaming.

“This is Jodie my daughter.” He stammered.

Christi stomped out of the room with Jodie.”I will not wait here to be insulted,” she said before walking out.

“I owe you both an explanation.” Anirudh said, looking at his parents.

“I met Christi in New York and fell in love with her. Her first husband is dead. Jodie is his daughter. We got married six months back.” Their silence was tearing him apart.

“I did not have the courage to tell you. Christi is not Indian. I was hoping to inform you, but could not bring myself to do it. I did not want it to be like this.” He paused, hoping they would react. His mother was sobbing.

He sat next to her and put her arms around her. “Ma, she is a nice and simple girl. I really love her.”

His father cleared his throat. “Anirudh, our family has no place for her. You have to choose between her or us.”

Anirudh knew his father too well. The old man had built a huge personal fortune by dearth of his courage and determination. He was not one to waste words.

“It is not a matter of choice, Baba.” I love Christi and Jodie as much as I love you. Anirudh knew that he had just kissed his father’s huge personal fortune a goodbye.

He walked out of the house. He needed some fresh air. He thought of the plans they had made for the day and felt sad for the little child.

He returned home only late evening. The house was pitch dark. He knew his parents would be gone. And so would be Christi and Jodie. His entire world had come crashing down on him in just one morning.

He walked into the hall with stooped shoulders. The lights switched on. The scene that greeted him was a dream sequence out of a family album. It took his breath away. The house was decorated to give a festive look in sharp contrast to the gloomy atmosphere of the morning.

He saw Christi dressed like a beautiful Indian bride in a silk sari, with vermillion in her hair. She was bedecked in fine jewellery, some of which he recognized as his family heirlooms. Jodie was in his father’s arms. His mother was beaming.

“Welcome home son.” It was his father. “Our coming here was no surprise. Christi had written to us about everything. She wanted to help you tell us. She requested us to come.”

“What you saw this morning was just to test you. We know you really love them. And so do we.” It was his mother.  “You have married well my son. We know you are in safe hands.”

“We are all leaving for India tomorrow. So better pack your things. The wedding is next week. You mother always wanted an Indian wedding for her only son.”

Anirudh found his voice at last. “India? What about my work.”

“You only need a computer and an internet connection. And you may come back after the wedding. Christi and Jodie will stay back. They will come back after the baby is born. It will also help her know her husband’s country and relatives.”

“Baby!” Anirudh looked at Christi in bewilderment. She was blushing.

“Yes, son,” his mother continued. “The reports came in today.”

Anirudh walked over to his parents and touched their feet.”Thank you,” he told them.

“It is our lovely daughter-in-law that needs to be thanked.”

Anirudh walked to his wife. “Thank you my love.” His voice was choked with emotion.

The couple hugged each other as everyone in the room applauded.

Word Count: 992