It was a long journey for Kushalpal Atwal from the by lanes of Mewat to cosmopolitan Gurgaon. For a man grounded to his roots, that was the farthest he was going to come from his hometown. It was also important for his school teacher father, now retired in Rawli, a loving, tender and a rather progressive Haryanvi.
Sonali had a turbulent childhood. An alcoholic and aggressive father, if not for the support of her maternal uncle she would have been doing dishes for living, if not dead. But she turned her life around. A strong woman, taught herself the ways of the world and landed a comfortable job at a comfortable place.
Kushalpal and Sonali got married after three months of courtship. Normal life ensued. A few EMIs, a child along the way, a loquacious nagging wife and a gentle, laconic husband. Nothing fancy, but nothing out of place either.
Hemant came with his family to spend Diwali with Kushalpal. The gift hamper from Sonali’s office had ‘Sonali Ahlawat’ on it.
‘Too vain to take your last name, is she?’, enquired Hemant.
‘She is too proud to replace hers with that of a man’, replied her doting husband.
‘But she would keep that of another man’s, her drunk, abusive father’, quipped Hemant.