2 States The Story Of My Marriage (30 page)

‘What? What else is this?’ my mother said. ‘You are under her spell. You bring

her home. You knead atta for her. You give her two Frootis I had brought for

guests. You are so worried about her. What about me?’

‘What about you, mom?’

‘What is she doing here?’

‘Mom, she can hear you.’

‘See, you only care about her. Go, be with her.’

My mother rearranged the plates in the kitchen. She threw the old spice

mixture and made a new one as I left.

‘Get me to the guest-house. I want to leave,’ Ananya said, her face wet with

tears.

‘No,’ I said and wiped her tears. ‘No, you can’t.’

‘I can’t do this,’ she said. ‘I thought convincing my parents would be enough.

You said your mother is sweet. Sweet? If your mom is sweet, then Hitler is a

cuddly toy.’

‘Take a shower, Ananya,’ I said. ‘Let’s all eat dinner together.’

We sat down for dinner. My mother served me. Ananya took the food herself.

I chose the topic. ‘What are the important ceremonies for Minti’s wedding?’

‘I have to go every day,’ my mother said, chewing her food. ‘There is a puja,

then a sangeet. Of course, the important ones are the sagan and the marriage,

next Friday and Sunday. You’ll come, no?’

‘Sagan and marriage, of course. I’ll bring Ananya, too.’

My mother gave me a dirty look. She didn’t want to talk about it with Ananya

present.

‘Don’t avoid the topic, mom. I’ve brought Ananya here so you and the family

get to know her.’

‘I already know she can’t cook dinner,’ my mother said.

‘I’m sorry, aunty,’ Ananya said. I didn’t expect it but felt relieved that Ananya
apologised.

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‘It’s fine, you modern girls are like this. That is why I want Krish to marry….’

‘Mom, I want to marry Ananya,’ I said, ‘in case it is not clear.’

My mother placed the piece of roti back on her plate and pushed the chair

back to get up.

‘Mom, please wait. I want to talk,’ I said.

‘Why should I talk? You will do whatever you want anyway. Go to the temple

right now and get married.’

‘Aunty, we want you to be happy about it,’ Ananya said.

‘Well, I am not. You can’t force me to be happy. Everyone is praising Minti’s

mother for her choice. I’ve suffered for years to bring my son up. Why can’t I have

the same happiness? I want a lavish wedding, I want the girl’s parents to respect

me, I want the girl to be approved of by my brothers and sisters.’

‘They will like Ananya! She is intelligent, educated….’

‘She is South Indian,’ my mother said, cutting me.

‘So what? Let’s see what your brothers and sisters say about Ananya. This

wedding is a perfect excuse.’

‘And who will I say she is?’ my mother asked grimly.

‘Say she is Krish’s classmate who’s never seen a Punjabi marriage ceremony

and wanted to come,’ I said.

My mother kept quiet. She picked up her roti and began to eat again.

‘Aunty, I am sorry I came unannounced. I thought Krish had told you.’

‘He never tells me anything. He is so careless,’ my mother said.

‘I agree, he doesn’t communicate well,’ Ananya said.

‘See,’ my mother said to me.

Even though they were ganging up against me, I let it pass. I wanted them to

bond in any way possible.

‘The daal is excellent, aunty, you must teach me how to make it,’ Ananya said.

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‘Then why are you eating like a squirrel? Take a proper helping,’ my mother

said.

‘I’ll speak to Minti,’ I put in. ‘I’m sure she will have no problem if I bring a
friend.’

‘Only as a friend,’ my mother said.

‘Thanks, mom,’ I said and hugged her.

‘Your dad never gave me anything. You don’t deprive me of what I deserve,’

my mother said.

‘Where’s uncle?’ Ananya said.

‘Who knows?’ my mother said. ‘He’ll be back late. You’ll see him in the

morning. You are sleeping in the guest-room and Krish in his room, right?’

‘Of course, mom,’ I said, ‘how else?’

My mother finished dinner. Ananya offered to do the dishes. My mother said

the maid would arrive in the morning but Ananya insisted. My mother went to her

room.

‘OK, Miss Brand Manager, you sure you don’t need help?’ I said as I leaned

against the kitchen wall.

Ananya applied Vim on the dishes with a wire mesh. ‘No, I don’t want to be

accused of trapping the Prince of Punjab again,’ Ananya said and mercilessly

scrubbed a kadhai.

‘Let me dry the dishes,’ I offered.

‘Go away, I beg you,’ she said as she pushed me out of the kitchen.

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44

‘Good morning , uncle,’ Ananya said as she came into the living room in her

night-suit. It was seven-thirty in the morning. My father, bound to his army habit,

had showered and changed. He looked up from his newspaper. He didn’t

respond.

‘I’m Ananya, Krish’s friend.’

‘Good,’ my father said and went back to his newspaper. He kept calm. I knew

he’d blow his lid when Ananya left. I came to the living room and ignored him.

‘Ananya, get ready. We should leave before the peak-hour traffic.’

‘Where are you going?’ my father said.

I didn’t answer. My father stood up and went to the kitchen.

‘Is this the way to behave?’ I heard him scream at my mother.

‘What happened?’ my mother said as I kept one ear to the kitchen.

‘I asked him where is he going, he didn’t answer. And who is that girl?’

‘He is going to drop Ananya to her guest-house and go to office. Why?’ my

mother said.

‘Why can’t he say it? And why didn’t you tell me we will have a visitor in the

house.’

‘I didn’t know,’ my mother said.

‘You are lying again,’ my father screamed.

Ananya looked terrified.

‘Welcome to my world,’ I said, ‘now let’s get the hell out of here.’

I came home from work and found deadly silence in the house. Obviously, my

father was home. He sat at the dining table with my mother.

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‘Krish, your father wants to talk to you,’ my mother said.

‘Tell him, I don’t want to,’ I said.

‘He said he won’t come for Minti’s wedding if you don’t speak to him,’ my

mother said. Weddings on my mother’s side of the family were when we needed

my father the most. My mother wanted to portray a sense of normalcy. If my

father showed his face, it prevented tongues wagging for weeks. I had no choice.

I went and sat opposite him.

‘So, now that you have resorted to blackmail, what do you want to talk about?’

I said.

‘It’s not blackmail. When my family doesn’t talk to me, why should I….’ he said.

‘Whatever. What is it?’ I said.

‘Who is that girl?’

‘Ananya Swaminathan,’

‘How do you know her?’

‘She is a classmate from college and my girlfriend.’

‘See Kavita,’ my father said, ‘and you said she is only a friend.’

‘You talk to me, why do you have to take it out on her,’ I said.

‘What is the purpose of her visit here?’ my father said.

‘She came on a work assignment. Minti invited her to the wedding. Do you

have a problem?’

‘You will not choose a girl for marriage. I will choose for you,’ my father said.

‘You want to sell me. And while you are out there negotiating me, what’s my

going rate?’

‘Kavita, this boy….’

‘This boy is right here. Talk to me.’

‘I am not coming for Minti’s wedding,’ my father announced.

‘Please, don’t do that. Krish, talk properly,’ my mother pleaded.

‘No mom, we won’t take him. We’ll tell them he is sick, mentally.’

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‘Watch your mouth,’ my father said and raised his hand.

‘I dare you,’ I said and stood up. I went to my room but could hear them.

‘I won’t come for the wedding, Kavita,’ my father said. The sound of a

clattering plate, presumably shoved away on the dining table.

‘Do whatever you want, all of you,’ my mother said.

I lay in bed, I wondered why we even stayed together as a family. I never

thought I would, but I missed Chennai. Sure, people there didn’t really connect

with me, but at least nobody could jab my insides. I thought of calling Ananya but

I didn’t want to dump my mood on her. Questions darted in my mind. Am I even

doing the right thing by bringing Ananya into this family? What impression will she

have of me? Will she change her mind about me? Watching my mind’s stupid daily

pre-sleep thought dance, I tossed and turned in bed all night.

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45

Minti’s wedding ceremony took place at the Taj Palace Hotel in Dhaula Kuan.

Frankly, it was a big deal for our clan. We had seen some over the top weddings,

but never before did an engagement ceremony happen at a top end five-star

hotel. Rajji mama had taken his one-upmanship among the relatives right to the

top by booking the Taj.

The banquet hall entrance had a sign.

The Talrejas welcome you

To SAGAN ceremony of their:

Most lovely daughter

Manorama (Minti)

With

Dashing Gentleman

Dharamveer (Duke), B. Tech

‘Don’t laugh,’ I said to Ananya, suppressing my own smile.

‘I can’t help it,’ she grinned. She adjusted the drape of her bottle green and

gold sari for the fifth time.

‘Welcome-ji, welcome,’ Rajji mama gave my mother and me hugs in quick

succession.

We came inside the banquet hall, which held two hundred people. The main

stage had two ornate chairs stolen from a king’s palace. Alongside, there were

seventy-five boxes of sweets and five giant baskets of fruits.

Most of the women stood at t he chaat and juice counter. All the men stood at

the bar. I helped my female cousins access vodka by giving them my glass, which

they poured into their juice.

‘So, there is Rajji mama, Lappa mama, Shipra masi and your mother – in that

order, right?’ Ananya said.

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‘Yes, and since my mother is the youngest, she needs validation from all of

them to do anything in life,’ I said.

‘Fine, let me understand first. Minti and Rohan are Rajji mama’s children,’

Ananya said and took out a notepad. ‘And who is the girl you gave the vodka to?’

‘That’s Tinki, and she has a younger sister Nikki, both in college. They are

Lappa mama’s children. And Shipra masi has a son and a daughter, Bittu and

Kittu. That’s it, my mom only has me.’

‘OK, OK,’ Ananya said as she finished taking notes.

‘Krish, come here,’ my mother screamed. She stood next to the stage.

‘Let’s go,’ I said and pulled Ananya’s hand.

Ananya hesitated at first, but came along. My mother sat with an eighty-year-

old lady who wore a gold necklace. It had a pendant bigger than the Olympic gold

medal.

‘She is Swaran aunty, my masi,’ my mother said.

My grandmother had died a couple of years ago. Swaran aunty was the senior-

most family member who was brought out at weddings and other auspicious

occasions to bless everyone.

I bent forward to touch her feet. I signaled and Ananya followed.

‘Kavita, teri noo hai?’ Swaran aunty said in Punjabi, asking if Ananya was my

mother’s daughter-in-law.

My mother explained she was a friend.

‘What is friend?’ Swaran aunty asked me.

‘Aunty, you need chaat?’ I countered.

‘Yes, nobody is getting me anything,’ she complained.

I returned with a plate of chaat. Ananya sat next to Swaran aunty and my

mother.

‘She is Madrasi?’ Swaran aunty said in a voice loud enough to belie her age.

‘Tamilian,’ Ananya said.

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‘But she is fair complexioned?’ Swaran aunty said, genuinely confused. For

her years, her eyesight wasn’t bad at all.

Shipra masi passed by, looking expensive. Everything she wore – clothes,

jewellery, handbag and shoes – contained real gold of varying proportions.

‘Shipra, see this, a gori Madrasin,’ Swaran aunty screamed.

‘Hello Kavita, how are you Krish?’

‘Fine aunty, meet my friend, Ananya,’

‘Oh, we all know what kind of friend. Yes, she is fair.’