"Hell no!!"

"What do you think you are doing?" I utter in surprise. "What made you think I would agree to this?"

"Listen to me," he says, taking out the mangalsutra and a small box of sindoor.

I step back in horror, as if those things may burn me, if I touch it.

"Sit down," he gestures for me to sit in the chair opposite him and I comply. "I have given this some thought. Taking a legal recourse against the society will be a tedious, time consuming and expensive affair. Plus, they will first throw you out and then let you fight it in court."

"I have a proposition for you. Let us click some photos like we just got married. I mean you put these on," he shoves the sindoor and mangalsutra in my hands, "and I will get a temple photo-shopped in the background. It will look like a wedding photo."

I shake my head. This seems a really, REALLY, bad idea.

He continues, ignoring my action, "We give these photos to Chavan and tell him we will do the marriage registration ourselves, which will take a month. It will buy you time to look for another place."

"Do you even know what you are saying?" I retort, aghast at his suggestion. "This is ridiculous. I am pretty sure it is illegal."

Jeet lets out an exasperated sigh, "I know this sounds insane, but I have given this some thought. You have very few options. I am offering you a way out."

"What if anyone finds out? Have you talked to someone about this?"

"No one knows and no one should know. In fact, it is imperative that NO ONE knows of our arrangement. Is that clear?" He thumps the table to emphasize his point.

He looks at me waiting for my answer. When I don't reply, he raises an eyebrow questioningly, "Well?"

"I don't know.. This is just crazy."

"Sometimes, it is the crazy ideas that work best. You get to stay here without having to explain to all these people about your husband. Trust me, it's only a matter of a month or two."

My mind is in a turmoil. Things are moving too fast, giving me no time to make carefully considered decisions. What shall I do? Is it a good idea to give photos of a fake marriage? I clearly need more time. But I have no place to go if I am kicked out. Right now, the only beacon of hope I have, is Jeet.

"This is the best I can come up with. If you don't want to do this, I understand. We will try to search for a place you can move into, in the next three days."

I was not prepared for these turns of events, but I decide to follow my gut instinct. It has served me well in the past. I just hope it is leading me in the right direction.

"OK. I'll do it. I just hope I am doing the right thing," I grudgingly tell him.

He looks at his watch "Look, I have some urgent work I need to take care of. I will be back in about.. 3 hours. Be ready by then."

"Oh, by the way," he turns from the door, "I called Khushboo to inform about your accident and that you may take a day or two off. She mentioned that Purvi found your phone at the picnic but forgot to give it you before leaving."

I am so relieved to hear that. Finally heard some good news after a long time.

"Oh, that's wonderful news! thank you!!" I cry out with joy, "You are the best."

He gives a 'no big deal' shrug and a shy smile, then leaves in a hurry, fishing out his phone telling someone that he will be reaching there in fifteen minutes.

When Jeet knocks my door at three in the afternoon, I am waiting for him. At his suggestion, we go to a photo studio in an area far from my house, so that no one recognizes us.

I change into my mother's maroon banarasi saree. I figured, might as well look the part. Applying the sindoor and wearing the mangalsutra feels so weird. I look at myself in the mirror. I look a lot like my mom. Jeet's looks pleasantly surprised when he sees me in this get up, his eyes growing wide in awe. Biting his lower lip, he gives a nod of appreciation but does not say anything. Thankfully he is not wearing the ugly spectacles.

We put on the garlands that Jeet got, and get our pictures clicked like a newly married couple. Jeet downloaded the photos on his USB drive and insisted that the photographer delete all photos both from the camera as well on the computer. Only after the photographer deleted all our images from the devices to Jeet's satisfaction, did we leave the studio.

"Why did you insist on deleting all photos in front of you?" I ask. We were walking back towards the rickshaw stand.

"Just so that our pictures won't fall into the wrong hands. If someone finds out the photos are doctored, you could land up in a lot of trouble." He says uncomfortably, looking in the other direction. Is that the only reason? I wonder.

Jeet leaves to meet a person who will photoshop the temple into our photos, promising to meet me later back at home.

-------------

"Gosh! No one can tell that these photos are fake." I am looking at photos from all angles trying to catch any flaw that will give away the fact that these photos were clicked recently and nowhere near a temple. But I can't find any.

"Don't worry. The guy is a professional and his work is perfect. Even if they look with a microscope, they won't be able to find any fault." Jeet looks pleased with himself, giving a rarely seen, self-assured smile.

"Yes! it is perfect," I turn the photo upright to admire the image. We look so happy and carefree. Jeet's beard is photoshopped to look shorter, the features on our faces have subtle changes as well, so no one can guess the photo was taken today. Man! that guy is superb.

A photograph of the two of us looking at each other is my favorite. It was supposed to be a picture of us simply standing next to each other, smiling at the camera, but at the last second Jeet casually draped his arm around my shoulder. Caught by surprise, I turned to look at him and he looked back at me. The photographer clicked at that very moment, capturing an image frozen in time, of us both looking at each other with smiles on our faces. If I didn't know better, I would swear that we look like a couple in love.

We pick out one photo, in which we look like we have just finished the rituals and are a happy, just married couple.

"Let's get this over with," Jeet states as he walks out.

"Good evening Mr. Chavan," I wish him, as I look around the society office nodding to the others from my building. Manoj Misara, Mrs. Dixit, and another man whose name I do not know, also present there.

"Is there a meeting today?" I ask, "I was not aware of any special meeting."

"No meeting, have a seat both of you." Chavan face is grim, as if he is sitting for an inquisition.

Both of us look at each other, wondering what's up?

"Have you got your Aadhar cards and passport photos?" Chavan addresses both of us.

"Umm.. I have my card, but since my husband is rarely in town, he did not get the opportunity to make one yet. But here is the photo of our marriage," I thrust the photograph towards him. He looks at it warily.

"What about ration card, driving license or passport then?" Chavan's questions remind of my first meeting with him.

Jeet cuts in before I can speak. "I don't have an Indian license or ration card. My passport is kept in my office."

"So what document will you provide for the registration?"

"Well, we will do the registration ourselves. In fact, we will go tomorrow and complete the formalities. We should get the certificate in one month's time." Hopefully my excuse sounds believable.

Chavan peers at me over his glasses.

"Why are you going through the hassle, when you can get it done easier here." He places a form in front of us. "Fill your details and give me your passport size photos. I will manage with the rest."

I look in panic at Jeet, who looks equally uncomfortable.

"Mr. Chavan, we have already started the process. There is no need to repeat it. You can see the photos of our marriage as proof that you wanted," Jeet seems to have recovered himself faster than me.

"Rest assured, before your deadline, you will get everything you need," his voice is firm and decisive, leaving no room for argument. I almost raise my brows, at this new facet of Jeet, before I stop myself.

"Huh?" Chavan looks stupefied, at the unexpected change in Jeet's demeanor. "I mean, OK. OK. But remember, there will be no extensions, excuses or delays at all."

"Yes, yes.. we understand," I fervently nod in agreement. Now I have one month to search for a house.

"Why don't you wear sindoor?" Mrs. Dixit chimes in.

"I.. have allergies."

"Can I have a look at your mangalsutra?"

"Uh.. it's at home.."

"Can you bring it? Now don't tell me you lost it," she adds sarcastically.

I am beginning to think this is more of a witch hunt. Them trying to prove I am not married. I silently thank Jeet for getting the mangalsutra today.

"Here," I show Mrs. Dixit, the mangalsutra I got from the house "and the sindoor also, in case you are wondering." That should shut them up.

The society members pass conspiring looks between them. A queasy feeling settles over me, something is up. I look at Jeet who looks pissed, his fists clenched tightly, a sign I now recognize that he's angry. I swallow nervously.

"Well," Chavan says, walking around the table to stand in front of Jeet, "since you have the mangalsutra and sindoor, why don't you put it on your wife."

"What?" we both shout in unison.

All of them look at each other again, giving knowing glances, before Manoj speaks up, "You are married to each other, there should be no problem if the man puts sindoor and mangalsutra on his wife, correct?"

I am aghast. I cannot let Jeet put the sindoor and mangalsutra on me. Only a husband can do that. Jeet is not my husband.

Hell NO!!