2 States: The Story of My Marriage Read online

  ‘If you promise to take care of my daughter,’ Ananya’s father said, ‘then it is a yes from me.’ He bent forward and picked up his box.

  Ananya hugged her father. ‘Thanks, dad,’ she said, ‘I love you.’

  Ananya’s father blessed her with a hand on her head.

  Ananya’s mother said, ‘It is not that we don’t like you. But our communities. . . .’

  ‘Mom, c’mon,’ Ananya interrupted her.

  Ananya’s mother took a minute to respond. ‘I know he will take care of you. But will Krish’s parents treat my daughter with respect?’

  ‘We’ll work on that, too,’ I said, aware another challenge awaited me in Delhi. ‘If they do, then?’

  ‘Then it is a yes from me,’ Ananya’s mother said.

  ‘Yay!’ Ananya cheered. Aunty took her ring and Ananya planted a kiss on her mother’s forehead.

  ‘Akka, you haven’t picked yours,’ Manju said as the mother-daughter affection continued. When they separated, both had tears in their eyes.

  ‘Oh, of course, where is it?’ Ananya picked up her ring.

  I came back to my seat.

  ‘Sir, did you enjoy your meal?’ the waiter said as he cleared the plates.

  ‘You bet I did,’ I said, tipping him more than the bill that night.

  41

  ‘I will miss you,’ Bala said as he handed me my transfer papers in his office.

  ‘I wish I could say the same,’ I said. Bala’s chin dropped. ‘I am kidding, cheer up. I won’t be there to blackmail you anymore,’ I said.

  Bala had agreed to make my case with Anil Mathur for the same reason. My transfer to Delhi took two months to execute. I wanted to be home soon. After all, I had finished my Chennai job. Of course, we had a few more battles to win. Ananya would have to deal with the full force of Punjabiness. However, life is best dealt with one disaster at a time.

  Operation Delhi would have to be quick. Ananya convinced her bosses to send her to Delhi for a week. After all, every HLL manager must have North India exposure, Ananya had argued. Ananya’s parents came to drop us at the airport. Ananya’s mother worried about Delhi, given its status as the worldwide capital of eve-teasing.

  ‘Mom, the HLL guest-house is safe. I won’t be out much,’ Ananya said.

  Ananya’s dad had his own concerns. ‘Remember, we have said yes. But you are not married yet. Don’t embarrass us,’ uncle said to me as he bid us goodbye.

  ‘Of course, uncle,’ I said, trying to figure out what he meant. No sex, I guess.

  Ananya and I went inside the terminal. She grabbed my arm as her parents melted out of sight. The flight took off. I brought out my notebook to explain the next stage to Ananya – Operation Delhi.

  ‘So, I have to agree with your mom, whatever she says. Like whatever,’ Ananya said, twenty minutes into the flight and thirty thousand feet high in the sky.

  The plane passed through an area of turbulence.

  ‘Yes, never disagree,’ I said, tightening my seat-belt, ‘and the timing of your trip could not be better. My cousin sister Minti is getting married next week. You’ll come to the wedding, meet everyone, bingo, done.’

  Ananya lifted the armrest to hold my arm tight. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine with you.’

  ‘See, you have to win over my mother. My father won’t agree ever, so he is not part of the equation. Make mom happy, OK?’

  ‘Lower the armrest, it is not safe,’ the flight attendant said in a strict voice as she passed the aisle.

  When you are part of a couple, you don’t realise how cheesy your affections are to the outside world.

  ‘Who does she think she is?’ Ananya huffed.

  ‘My mother?’

  ‘No, the airhostess. What’s with the thick red lipstick? Is she a flight attendant or an item girl?’

  I don’t know why women love commenting on other women’s appearances. I never noticed the bald man next to me, who snored through the flight.

  ‘Focus, Ananya. You are dealing with a Punjabi mother-in-law here. You have never seen anything like this,’ I said.

  ‘Can’t wait,’ Ananya said, sarcasm dripping from her mouth like the airhostess’s lipstick.

  Act 4:

  Delhi reloaded

  42

  ‘Let go of my elbow,’ I said.

  ‘Why?’ Ananya said.

  ‘I see my mother.’

  Mother waited at the arrivals area. She stood among ten thousand drivers holding placards with every Punjabi name possible. There were no more Venkats and Ramaswamis, only Aroras and Khannas.

  When people land at Chennai airport, they exchange smiles and proceed gently to the car park. At Delhi, there is a traffic jam of people trying to hug each other to death. My mother hugged me tight, and even though it was over the top, I liked it. No one had hugged me like that in Chennai for the last six months (apart from Ananya, of course, but that’s a different category of affection). We walked towards the auto stand. Ananya greeted my mother but it went unnoticed.

  ‘You ate?’ my mother asked me the most important question.

  I nodded.

  ‘What did they serve?’ I noticed she was ignoring Ananya completely.

  ‘Paneer masala and rice,’ I said. ‘Mom, you’ve met Ananya, remember?’

  My mother gave Ananya a fake smile and turned back to me. ‘No rotis?’

  ‘Mom, Ananya has a one-week stint in her Delhi office.’

  ‘Where will she stay?’ my mother said, her voice concerned.

  ‘At the company guest-house,’ Ananya said.

  ‘Yes, but she only joins them day after, on Monday. I thought it will be a good idea if she came home for the weekend.’

  ‘Whose home?’ my mother asked, aghast.

  ‘Our home,’ I said. I removed my bags from the trolley at the auto stand.

  My mother turned silent. I paid the money at the pre-paid stand.

  We fit ourselves and our bags tight into the auto. I sat in the middle, with Ananya on my right and my mother on the left.

  ‘All set for Minti’s wedding?’ I said.

  ‘What a boy Minti is going to marry!’ my mother said.

  ‘Really? Is he good?’ I said.

  ‘Oh yes, so good-looking. White as milk,’ my mother said, ‘and guess the budget of the wedding?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘Rajji mama is spending five lakh on the parties alone. Plus they have a big surprise gift for the boy for the sagan.’

  ‘What’s the boy’s name?’ I said.

  Ananya didn’t participate in the conversation. She turned her face to the scenery outside. Her hair blew in the breeze and a few strands caressed my face.

  ‘I forget his real name, but everybody calls him Duke.’

  ‘Duke? Like British royalty duke?’ I said.

  ‘Yes, he is an engineer from a donation college. Now he works in Escorts Software. And his parents are so nice,’ my mother said. ‘Every occasion they have met your mama-ji, they bring something for me. They’ve already given me three saris.’

  ‘Amazing,’ I said.

  ‘You should see how they give respect. The boy touches my feet every time he meets me.’

  I nodded. I wanted to end the topic. But my mother was in full form. ‘I asked Rajji mama why he is spending so much. You know what he said?’

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘He said “didi, where do you get good boys these days?” So, I said, if Duke is getting this, what will Krish get?’

  I kept quiet. My mother continued anyway. ‘He said if Duke’s budget is five lakh, yours should be ten lakh, gifts separate.’

  ‘Thanks for pricing me,’ I said.

  ‘I am just saying. . . .’ my mother said.

  We remained silent for the next five minutes. My mother shifted in her seat due to lack of space.

  ‘You could have booked a car. I would have paid,’ I said.

  ‘I didn’t know you’ll bring extra baggage from Chennai,’ my moth