The Marriage Expedient

Roshni's POV.

"I guess we can say that we have failed," I said to myself as I stood in front of my father's company.

It was all gone.

The big busy commercial building I used to know since I was a lass had suddenly been deserted. Neglected. It was as if a plague lived within and everyone wanted to keep their distance. My father's Volkswagen was still parked under the long blue canopy that served as an awning for a parking lot. It sat alone. Even the tracks from other vehicles had been covered up by the winds.

I sighed deeply. How could something so huge and successful just come toppling down, day after day? What had we done wrong? How had my father's flourishing business which endeared him the moniker 'The Philanthropist' melted down to almost nothing?

Carried far away by my thoughts, I jumped when I felt a hand on my right shoulder. I turned to see the familiar face of my father staring at me, so inquisitive.

"My dear, Roshni. Are you well?"

I nodded. "I am well, father," as I turned to face him.

"What are you doing out here staring into space?" asked my father.

I thought about telling him something else, but I chose not to. What was the point of hiding that which was already known?

"See over there?" I said, pointing at the corner of the building.

"Should be the third floor, my dear?" he asked, following my direction.

"Yea. The room on that floor. Do you remember what used to go on there, father?"

He sighed deeply and I sensed strength ebb out of him. My father said, "How can I forget?"

"I remember we used to go there for recess. Pull out a copy of the latest books and play the critics, just for fun."

"Indeed. And were any of our writers present?"

"No, father. There were none. Those were the good times."

"Indeed. And now, I wonder if those authors actually got wind of what we were doing."

I looked into the face of my father. It was much older than it had been only a year ago. What with the problems weighing down on his shoulders and all. He used to be a tall elderly man, then it felt like his shoulders stooped low even though he was still in his early sixties. He had gray hairs mixed up with black hairs and the center of his head was bald. He had a pointed nose and was fair in complexion, just like me.

"Why would you think of something like that, father?" I asked. "Do not tell me that the supposed authors we secretly made fun of are the reason for your downfall."

He shrugged. "What can I say? I am searching for answers, my dear. It was just as if God hit the stop button on my operations. And He doesn't feel like undoing it."

"We will get through this, father. I know we will. You have made good friends all these years, credit given to your philanthropy. Surely, help will come."

"And what do you expect me to do, my dear? Wait for help to come and meet us? You know I cannot do that, Roshni. It has never been my principle."

My father was a man of principle. Among the things I remember, he never waited for an opportunity. He didn't like getting something he couldn't afford at that moment. If he didn't have the complete money, he would wait until he did. It was something that I admired, and it added to his charm.

"I know, father. But this time is different. We are at a disadvantage. And it doesn't look like anything is going our way."

"My business isn't the first to crash this way, my dear. I am working on it."

I was going to say that he couldn't do it alone, that he needed back his staff, but that was out of the question. No one would come back to work. Not for free, nor for charity, nor for promises.

So I simply asked, "So you have a plan?"

A frown creased his face as he replied, "I have something in mind, my dear. But I am considering it only as a last resort."

"Is that wise?" I asked. "What if this last resort of yours fails to deliver, father?"

He looked at me with so much concern that he took my hand in both of his and squeezed it. "I do not plan to fail you, my dear Roshni. Just like you said, we will get through this."

I nodded my head, filled with hope. "But don't just do this for me alone, father. Do it for those who have looked up to you. For those you had to lay off. Bring them back, father."

It was his turn to nod.

"And if there is anything I can do to help, father, you just have to say the word."

A slight smile appeared on my father's face and it seemed more comforting than the morose look he had on a while ago. "What would I have done without you, Roshni?"

"Nothing, father," I said and we both laughed at this. "By the way, I had a hand in the success of your publishing company, so you will not be able to get rid of me that easily."

Just as I said this, two vehicles drove into the premises. There was no one at the gate any longer because my father even had to lay off the lowest staff. They drove past us and stopped right in front of the building.

"Ah, our investors," announced my father. "Let's see if these friends of yours you talk about will be of any help now, my dear."

I watched my father walk up to the arriving party. He shook hands with the men. I counted four of them, and he led them into the building. I had never taken anything for granted before. My father taught me that in business. So, when I saw that none of the men who alighted from those two cars had a responding smile on their faces, I knew at once that it was not a friendly visit.