Page 13 of Red Flags and Rishtas
I couldn’t tell if she was serious or just getting on my case. I tried to read her current expression. Her smooth, tanned skin was wrinkling in the space between her eyebrows, and her jaw was set tightly. She was either angry or stressed. Neither was good, but I hoped it was the latter.
‘Um,’ I said, aware that my brain was doing that thing it did in high-pressure situations, where it acted like it was completely clueless about what was going on.
My phone vibrated in my hand, reminding me that I could use the presentation I’d made to kick-start my thought process. I quickly opened my email and downloaded the attachment.
‘So the idea came to me because all the men I know who are my age or older are beginning to get married … or at least starting to think about it,’ I said.
An image of Aadar, sitting in his blazer on my sofa, popped into my mind. It had been a week since his awkward visit to my house, but thinking about it still left me feeling oddly unnerved.
‘Do you have any figures to back that up?’ she asked, her face deadpan.
‘Um, no. Not yet. But it doesn’t matter. Here, let me show you my Instagram,’ I said, taking a step towards her.
She leaned forward to glance at my phone as I scrolled through my feed and tapped on stories of random people.
‘Everyone, it seems, is either getting engaged, married or attending someone else’s wedding,’ I said, then typed a name into the search bar of Instagram.
‘Even influencers are sealing the deal,’ I said, waiting for the profile to load. ‘Look, Harsh Khanna just announced his engagement this afternoon.’
Pooja took the phone from me and studied the picture of a young man with spectacular teeth smiling next to his long-term girlfriend, Deepti. She placed the device on the table in front of her and crossed her arms.
‘So then we should do something around weddings and fashion, maybe?’ she asked, swivelling in her chair to face me.
‘That’s the thing. It can be bigger than that.’
‘How?’
‘We tie up with a wealthy, famous couple, someone like Harsh Khanna, and we convince them to let us be their Best Man,’ I said and paused, hoping for a look of encouragement from my boss.
‘What’s the Best Man supposed to do? Organise the groom’s bachelor party?’ she asked, confused.
‘Well, yes. That and a few other things. But we’d be taking the Western concept of a Best Man and giving it a new meaning in the Indian context. As the Best Man, TMJ would take over all the duties of organising and planning the wedding, along with doing what we do best, creating content,’ I explained.
‘So you mean, like a wedding planner?’ she asked.
‘Kind of …’
‘But why wouldn’t someone just hire an actual wedding planner?’
I thought about her question for a few moments.
‘Because we would offer them so much more than just planning their big day. The editorial team would cover the whole shebang with exclusive interviews from the couple written inHumans of New Yorkstyle, fashion lookbook breakdowns and listicles that could be applied to grooms everywhere, along with a massive pile of content from their celebrity guests that would be promoted on social media.’
I paused to lean forward and press the next slide button on Pooja’s laptop. A screenshot from last year’s plan for The Influencer Awards popped up.
‘That’s not all. Being a magazine, we can get them way better logistics deals than a regular wedding planner. Like we do for the other events in our portfolio, in exchange for media coverage, we can get a hotel to sponsor the venue, an alcohol brand to cover the bar and some high-end designers to craft special looks for the bride and groom,’ I said, took a breath and added, ‘and the couple … they’d get an extraordinary wedding as well as a viral social media campaign.’
‘And what would we get?’ she asked, her expression still unreadable.
‘An insane amount of content, a ton of clicks on the website and, of course, a hefty fee for being the Best Man.’
Pooja shut her MacBook Air, letting her fingers play the piano on its cover.
‘Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?’ she asked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
I decided to approach the question with honesty.
‘Because I just thought of it,’ I admitted.
