2 States The Story Of My Marriage (15 page)

BOOK: 2 States The Story Of My Marriage
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I didn’t mention the interest with which he read the AIADMK article. ‘Where is

your brother?’

‘He slept already. He wakes up early to study.’

We heard footsteps.

‘Be careful with Shobha aunty. Speak minimum,’ she said.

‘Why?’ I said as Ananya’s mother came to the living room again. She and her

guru walked towards the main door. Aunty had a disappointed expression.

‘Illa practice?’ the guru mumbled as Ananya’s mother spoke to him in Tamil.

The guru shook his head and left.

‘What?’ Ananya asked her.

‘Nothing. Where is your appa and athai? Let’s eat,’ Ananya’s mother said in a

serious tone.

Ananya’s father and aunt came to the living room. They carried more dishes

than their arms were designed for. I stood up to help. ‘Hello aunty, can I take

something!’

‘Wash your hands,’ uncle told me and pointed me to the kitchen.

We sat on the floor for dinner. Ananya’s father passed me a banana leaf. I

wondered if I had to eat it or wipe my hands with it.

‘Place it down, it is the plate,’ Ananya whispered.

‘Radha,’ Shobha aunty said in a stern voice as she pointed to her banana leaf.

It had specks of dirt on one side.

‘Oh, sorry, sorry,’ Radha aunty said and replaced it. It wasn’t different from

Shipra masi finding faults with my mother. Psycho relatives are constant across

cultures.

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I followed Ananya as she loaded her plate with rice, sambhar, funny-looking

vegetables and two kinds of brown powders.

‘What’s this?’ I asked.

‘Gunpowder, try it,’ she said.

I tasted it. It felt like sawdust mixed with chillies.

‘Yummy, no?’

I nodded at Ananya. Everyone first kept neat little lumps of dishes on their

banana leaf. Soon they mixed it into a slurry heap.

‘Mix more,’ Ananya said as I tried to copy my in-laws-to-be.

‘You are Ananya’s classmate?’ Shobha aunty spoke for the first time.

‘Yes, at IIM,’ I said.

‘IIT student?’

I nodded. Ananya had told me that my IIT tag was the only silver lining in my

otherwise outcast status in their family.

‘Sushila’s cousin is also from IIT. Radha, I told you, no? Harish lives in San

Francisco.’

‘Which batch?’ I asked.

‘IIT Madras, not your college,’ Shobha aunty said, pissed off at being

interrupted.

I kept quiet and looked at the various vegetables, trying to recognize them. I

said hello to beans and cabbage.

‘Harish’s parents want to get him married. You have Ananya’s nakshtram?’

Shobha aunty said.

‘No, not yet,’ Ananya’s mother said.

‘What, swami? Your wife is not interested in finding a good son-in-law?’

I couldn’t believe they were discussing all this in my presence. ‘Can you pass

the rice?’ I said, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere.

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‘Radha, you must listen to Shobha. She knows best,’ Ananya’s father said.

Indian men slam their wives for their sisters with zero hesitation.

Ananya’s mother nodded as Shobha aunty started to discourse in Tamil.

Ananya’s dad and mother also responded in Tamil. It was irritating to watch a

regional language movie in front of me.

After five minutes I spoke again. ‘Excuse me?’

‘What?’ Ananya’s father said.

‘Can you speak in English? I can’t follow the conversation,’ I said.

Ananya looked at me, shocked. Back off, her eyes said.

‘Then learn Tamil,’ Ananya’s father said.

‘Yes sir,’ I said meekly.

‘Anyway, this doesn’t concern you,’ he added.

I nodded. I heard various technology companies’ the boys’ names. I felt like

upturning my banana leaf on Shobha aunty’s face.

I left soon after dinner. Ananya came outside to help me get an auto. Ananya

held my arm as we came on the desolate street.

‘I am not talking to you,’ I said and extracted my hand from her.

‘What?’ she said.

We passed by a bungalow with coconut trees in the garden.

‘They are planning your marriage. What the hell is nakshtram?’ I said.

‘It’s the astrological chart. They are fantasizing. I am not getting married to
anyone else but you.’

She held up my hand and kissed it. I extracted it again. I hailed an auto.

Ananya would have to negotiate with him in Tamil else I’d have to pay double.

‘How am I going to win them over? It is impossible to get through. Sitting with

your father is like being called to the principal’s office.’

Ananya laughed.

‘It’s not funny.’

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‘It is a little. What about my mom?’

‘I used to be scared of her pictures in campus. Forget her in real life! Her looks
alone kill me.’

‘Her pictures scared you?’

‘Yes, that is why I never wanted to make love in your room. I’d notice your

mother’s pictures and chills ran down my spine. I’d imagine her saying, What are

you doing with my daughter?’

Ananya laughed again. ‘If we weren’t in Mylapore, I’d have kissed you. You are
so cute,’ she said.

‘Cut it out, Ananya, what is our plan? Will you speak to your mother?’

‘Mom’s stressed out. Her Carnatic teacher refused to teach her.’

‘Why?’

‘I’ll tell you later.’

‘Can we meet tomorrow? Outside, please,’ I said.

‘Meet me at Marina beach at six,’ she said.

‘I can’t do six. My extra-caring boss Bala leaves at eight.’

‘I didn’t say evening.’

‘Six in the morning?’ I gulped.

Ananya had already turned to the auto driver.

‘Nungambakkam, twenty rupees, extra illai, OK?’ she told him.

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18

The beautiful sunrise at Marina Beach compensated for the 5 a.m. wake up call.

Hundreds of people took a morning walk along the seashore which ran down

miles.

‘Do you know this is the biggest city beach in Asia?’ Ananya asked as she met

me at the police headquarters building.

‘You’ve told me,’ I said.

‘Why are you in formals?’

‘I go straight to work. Trainees are expected to be there at seven-thirty,’ I said,
removing my shoes and folding my pants up to walk along the beach.

‘To do what?’

‘To suck up to the boss, who if you do a good job will promote you to the next

level of sucking up. Welcome to corporate life,’ I said.

‘I am not facing it yet. I have to sell a thousand bottles of ketchup every week. I
am so behind my targets.’

‘You’d better ketch-up fast,’ I said.

‘Funny,’ she said and punched me. Ananya saw a man with a bicycle. He

carried a basket full of idlis. ‘Breakfast?’ she offered.

‘Don’t they have toast?’

‘Don’t grumble,’ she said. We took four idlis and sat on a bench facing the

water. She spoke about her mother. ‘Guruji didn’t accept mom. He felt she isn’t

dedicated enough.’

‘But isn’t she really good?’ I asked, not that I could tell from the shrill cries I
heard last night.

‘She isn’t good enough by Chennai standards. Dad used to be posted in towns

outside Tamil Nadu. Mom became a star in the Tamilian community there. Here,

she is just OK. Chennai’s Carnatic music scene is at a different level.’

I nodded as if I understood.

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‘My parents came to Chennai with great enthusiasm. But now dad lost his

promotion. Pesky relatives visit us all the time. Amidst all this, their daughter

wants to impose a non-Brahmin, non-Tamil, Punjabi boy on them. Of course, they

will freak out. We have to be patient. I love them, too, Krish,’ she said and paused
for breath.

A gentle breeze blew on our faces. She laid her head on my left shoulder. I

stroked her hair. The sun emerged out of the Bay of Bengal, a soft red at first,

turning into a warmer orange. I put my arm around Ananya. In my tie and formal

pants, I looked like a salesman with no place to take his girlfriend to make out.

‘there is only one way you can get regular access to my home,’ Ananya said

after staring at the horizon for a minute.

‘What?’

‘IIT tuitions for my brother. They’d accept anything for that,’ she said.

I let go of her and sat up straight. ‘Are you crazy? I prepared for the IIT exam
eight years ago. I can’t teach him.’

‘I’m sure you can revise some notes and help him. My parents have to get

comfortable with you. Only then can I ask them to seriously consider you.’

I dipped my idli into coconut chutney and ate it. I missed my mother’s hot

paranthas at breakfast.

‘Do you love me?’ She wiped a bit of chutney from my lips.

I kissed her. I was kissing her after two months. I didn’t release her for a

minute. I’d revise IIT chemistry for this chemistry any day.

‘Ai!’ a hoarse voice screamed behind us.

I turned around. A pot-bellied Tamilian cop, looking more villain than police,

walked fast towards us. ‘What is this?’ he said and slammed his stick on the

bench. Both of us sprang up. Ananya hid behind me.

‘Oh fuck,’ she said. ‘Get rid of him.’

The cop screamed at me in Tamil. Helpless, I asked Ananya to translate.

‘He wants to take us to the police station. He is saying we have some nerve

doing all this outside police headquarters.’

‘Why do they have police headquarters opposite a beach?’ I asked.

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‘Shut up and pay him off,’ she whispered.

I took out my wallet and took out twenty bucks.

‘Illa Illa…’ the cop continued to shout and grabbed my arms.

I took out a fifty. He looked at me and Ananya. ‘Warning,’ the cop said as he

took the note.

Ananya laughed after the cop left us.

‘It’s not funny,’ I said as I wore my shoes again and straightened my pants.

‘Can we meet at my chummery, please?’

‘In a while. I travel out of Chennai everyday and come back late,’ she said.

‘Weekend?’

‘I’ll try,’ she said. ‘You will feed me chicken? I’m dying to have non-veg. and
get beer, too.’

‘OK,’ I promised. My building had vegetarian-only rules, but surely they

wouldn’t notice if I brought something readymade from outside.

We sat in our respective autos. She spoke to me from her side window. ‘And

I’ll speak to my parents about the tuitions. Twice a week at five?’

‘Five in the morning?’ Why is everyone so eager to wake up in this town!

‘That’s when everyone goes for tuitions,’ she said and sped off.

I had to wait for two miserable weeks in Chennai until Ananya finally decided to

visit my chummery for lunch one Saturday. One weekend Ananya’s mother fell ill

and Ananya had to cook for the family, courtesy a guilt trip from her mother. The

food did not come out right, as Ananya’s culinary experience is limited to making

Maggi in my room and making papads with a clothes iron (yes, it works). This led

to another guilt trip from Shobha aunty to Ananya’s mother who blamed her for

not bringing up her daughter right. The guilt trip percolated down to Ananya, who

had to take Shobha aunty jewellery and sari shopping the next weekend.

Meanwhile, I had visited Brilliant Tutorials and bought IIT exam guides. I

couldn’t believe how tough the course materials were. The only reason I managed

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to study them in the past was because that distracted me from my parents’ fights.

I revised chemistry to prepare for my first class.

I also went to my Sardar-ji neighbor to find out the best way to procure

chicken and beers.

“Who is coming? Punjabi friends?’ he asked.

‘Work people,’ I said, to stop him from inviting himself.

‘Be careful when you take it up in the lift,’ he said.

As he told me, I went to the Delhi Dhabha in Nungambakkam, less than a

kilometre from my house. I triple-packed the tandoori chicken so no smell came

out. I went to the government-approved liquor shop, where they had trouble

establishing my age. ‘Are you over twenty-five?’

‘No, but will be soon,’ I said.

‘Then we can’t give you,’ the shopkeeper said.

‘Even if I pay ten bucks extra a bottle?’

It is amazing how money relaxes rules around the country. The shopkeeper

packed the three bottles in brown paper, and I further placed them in a plastic

BOOK: 2 States The Story Of My Marriage
7.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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