Page 45 of Red Flags and Rishtas
The street was too narrow for a U-turn, so we had to drive around the block to get to his car. The two of them chatted throughout the short journey, and I sank deeper and deeper into my seat as the conversation went on without me. By the time we pulled up in front of his red Kia, it had stopped raining.
‘Well, it was nice to meet you, Vrinda,’ Aadar bent down to say after he had stepped out of the car.
‘Same here,’ V responded, giving him a bright, warm smile.
‘And you …’ he said, directing his gaze towards me for a microsecond, ‘meh.’
With that, he waved a dismissive hand in my direction, straightened up and banged the door shut. My jaw almost dropped to the floor in indignation.
‘Oh boy, if looks could kill,’ V said when she turned to face me.
‘I hate that guy,’ I muttered bitterly.
‘I don’t know, I thought he was sweet,’ she said.
‘Of course you did,’ I mumbled under my breath as the engine roared to life.
I put on my earphones and pretended to sleep for the duration of our journey home. I would’ve taken the Metro back to mine instead of letting her driver drop me, but I didn’t want V to think I was mad at her. Because I wasn’t. It’s just that sometimes I felt a little bit … jealous. I loved her to death, and I didn’t wish anyhardships on her of any kind, but sometimes, I felt like life wastooeasy on her.
V was beautiful, rich, ambitious, talented, had a long-term boyfriend who loved her and always got along with people. Every single person she met adored her. She was perfect, and my own imperfections stood out loud and clear next to her. Take today, for example. The guy who’d been a royal pain in my ass for the last few weeks had met her, and she had managed to bring out the best in him. I may have actuallylikedhim if I had met this version of him before. But no, the guy with the nice-to-meet-yous was reserved for incredible girls like my best friend.
All I got wasmeh.
11
Playing Hooky
Workaholics, i’d alwaysmaintained, were pitiful. If you had to be addicted to something, why would you choose work? So the idea that I was turning into one was particularly distressing to me. But between the lead-up to Best Man’s first wedding and V’s boutique decoration, I was finding no time to breathe. The problem was, I didn’t know which job I disliked more.
At the office, I found myself juggling different vendors’ requirements, the exhaustive guest list and of course, the bride and groom’s endless tantrums. Planning a big fat Indian wedding, I had realised, was no joke. Traditionally, the burden of orchestrating every detail fell upon the shoulders of the parents, particularly the bride’s family. But over time, professional wedding planners had come into the picture to save the big day.
And TMJ’s Best Man went one step further. We not only offered organisational prowess (with help from an outsourced wedding planning agency), but we also had the one thing every couple wanted in today’s day and age – the ability to make their wedding go viral. Our promotional services included crafting captivating content to ensure that the wedding received the attention it deserved. With our finger on the pulse of the latest trends and our unrivalled expertise in curating unforgettable experiences, we promised to elevate wedding planning to an art form, transforming dreams into reality with effortless flair and sophistication.
Or at least that’s how we had sold the idea to our first client, TV actor Harsh Khanna and his travel influencer girlfriend, Deepti Singh. They’d agreed to come on board, but with a ridiculous number of demands – and the list continued to get longer as we approached the wedding celebrations. The latest, for example, was that they wanted TMJ to do an exclusive print issue with the couple on the cover.
‘We’re not a print magazine, Harsh,’ I’d had to explain to him for the millionth time.
‘That’s all right. We can get the magazines printed … Deepti’s uncle has a printing business in Sonipat,’ he had said, looking at his fiancée with eagerness.
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible,’ I said, exhaling in frustration. ‘We are a digital-only magazine and that’s our USP. We can’t just change that.’ I knew he didn’t give a shit about our brand philosophy, so I added, ‘Plus, nobody cares about physical magazines these days anyway.’
‘So what do you suggest?’ Deepti had asked, placing a hand on Harsh’s shoulder to keep him from continuing.
‘Apart from the microsite we are creating for the event with interviews and wedding coverage, we can also shoot and release a digital cover with the two of you,’ I’d said.
‘Like a proper magazine cover?’ Harsh had asked, his interest piqued at the sound of my generous offering.
‘Yes, but a digital version of it. You can put it on your social media and send it to everyone you know … it’ll be great.’ I saw my opening and launched into saleswoman mode.
‘Perfect. Let’s do that,’ Deepti had said.
I’d known I needed to take Pooja’s blessing before making any of this official, but I shook hands with them anyway. There was no reason why we couldn’t give them a digital cover – we already had an editorial photographer and a talented productionand design team. So when I went to my boss for her approval, I expected little to no friction on the matter.
‘This is a bad idea, Ananya,’ she had said, her face buried in her laptop screen.
‘Why? We wouldn’t have to invest anything extra in it,’ I’d said, frowning.
‘It’s not about that. We’re already over-delivering. They’re beginning to think they run the show, not us,’ she’d said.
