2 States: The Story of My Marriage Read online

  ‘It’s a Tamil style wedding,’ Ananya said.

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, what else do you expect in Chennai? Anyway, won’t your relatives like to see something different?’

  ‘Actually, no,’ I said.

  ‘We’ll see, and you can take the train to Chennai. The Rajdhani Express takes twenty-eight hours.’

  ‘That’s a long ride with relatives,’ I said.

  ‘You’ve waited so long for this, what’s another day?’ Ananya said and ended the call.

  ‘You really won’t come? I have your tickets.’

  My father kept silent. My mother sat next to me at the dining table.

  ‘Why does it have to be a choice? Why can’t mom get her relatives and you come as well?’ I said. Why can’t we be a normal family for once? I thought. I guess there are no normal families in the world. Everyone is a psycho, and the average of all psychos is what we call normal.

  ‘He feels they have insulted him in the past,’ my mother said.

  ‘And he hasn’t insulted them?’ I said, ‘Anyway, what does it have to do with my wedding? Dad, say something.’

  ‘You have my blessings. Don’t expect my presence,’ my father said.

  ‘His drama never ends,’ my mother said. ’He himself went to Chennai and said yes to the Madrasis. This wouldn’t even have happened otherwise. Now when everyone in my family is waiting for the wedding, he stops them. Why? Because he can’t see them happy. Most of all, he doesn’t want to see me happy.’ She then broke into tears.

  ‘Is that the case, dad?’

  ‘No, I’ve given you a choice,’ he said.

  ‘Which son will not want his father to come?’ my mother said, ‘This is not a choice. This is blackmail.’

  ‘Whatever you want to call it. If this wedding is happening because of me, then I should get to choose the guests.’

  ‘No dad,’ I said, ‘Mom has equal rights, too. Unfortunately, I belong to both of you.’

  ‘So, you decide,’ my father said.

  My mother and dad looked at me. I paced up and down the room for ten minutes.

  ‘Dad, mom’s family has to come. You do what you have to do,’ I said and left the room.

  Rajji mama had arranged a two-man dholak band at the Hazrat Nizamuddin station. I helped locate the thirty-seven II-tier AC berths reserved for my relatives in the Rajdhani Express compartment. Two of my mother’s cousin sisters had decided to join at the last minute and we had to accommodate them as well. My mother made up a wonderful story about my father’s viral fever that could be malaria. Everyone knew the reality, and apart from the awkwardness of fibbing to Ananya’s parents again, people were relieved, as my dad equalled to no fun.

  ‘You can’t talk half the things when your husband is here,’ as Shipra masi told my mother.

  I stood inside the bogie, matching everyone’s ticket to their berth. Rajji mama dragged me out. ‘You have to dance a little, no? This is the baraat leaving,’ he said.

  At four in the afternoon, hundreds of bored passengers on the platform watched the free entertainment provided by our family. The dholak men jogged along the train and argued with mama over the payment. They couldn’t squeeze much out of him as the train had picked up speed.

  I came inside my compartment, which the ladies had turned into a sari shop. The entire lower berths were filled with the dresses everyone planned to wear for each of the functions.

  ‘This is beautiful,’ my seventy-year-old distant aunt said as she fondled a magenta sari with real gold-work. Women never get too old for admiring saris.

  My younger cousins had taken over the next compartment. The girls had their make-up kits open. They discussed the sharing of mascaras. I see why whole families get excited about a wedding; there’s something in it for everyone.

  I came outside to stand at the compartment door. The train whizzed past Agra, Gwalior and Jhansi over the next few hours. I still had a day to go as the train traversed through this huge country, cutting through the states I had battled for the last year. These states make up our nation. These states also divide our nation. And in some cases, these states play havoc in our love lives.

  I came inside when the train reached Bhopal at dinnertime. My relatives couldn’t contain their excitement that Rajdhani Express offered free meals.

  ‘Take non-veg, the Madrasis won’t give you any,’ Shipra masi advised everyone.

  ‘OK aunty, for the next three days, there are no Madrasis, only Tamilians,’ I said.

  Shipra masi separated the foil from her chicken. ‘Yes, yes, I know. Tamil Nadu is the state. But we are going to Madras only, no? Why does the ticket say Chennai?’

  ‘It’s the same. Like Delhi and Dilli,’ Kamla mami said as she slurped her chicken sweet corn soup.

  ‘Is it true their chief minister is an ex-film heroine?’ my mother’s cousin said.

  ‘Yes-ji,’ another aunt said, ‘these South Indian women are quite clever.’

  ‘God has given them a brain, nothing else,’ came another loose comment and I considered jumping off the train.

  60

  Ananya’s father checked my clan into twenty rooms at the Sangeetha Residency in Mylapore. The rooms were basic, but clean and air-conditioned. ‘What happened to your father? We just met him,’ he asked.

  ‘It’s a viral fever that could become malaria,’ I said.

  ‘Is that possible?’

  ‘It happens in Delhi. Anyway, what’s the schedule?’ I regulated the conversation.

  ‘We have a puja tomorrow afternoon and another one in the evening. The wedding muhurtam will be in the morning day after tomorrow,’ he said.

  ‘Uncle, what about a DJ? There is no party?’ I was aghast for my kith and kin.

  ‘We have a reception party day after evening. Have your fun there,’ he said and turned to my mother, ‘Kavita jee, Shipra jee, can I talk to you for a second?’

  My mother, Shipra masi and Ananya’s father stepped away from me and other relatives. They spoke for five minutes. My mother rejoined me. Shipra masi went to the reception to collect her keys.

  ‘What?’ I said as we climbed up the steps towards our hotel rooms.

  ‘Nothing,’ my mother said.

  ‘It’s my marriage. I deserve to know.’

  ‘They asked me if I wanted a special gift,’ my mother said. Perhaps, Ananya had recounted Minti’s wedding to her parents.

  ‘And? What did you say?’ I said, eyeing my mother with suspicision.

  ‘Don’t talk to me in that voice,’ my mother said.

  ‘What exactly did you say, mom?’ I said, my tone worse, ‘what? Did you send him to buy a car or split ACs or what?’

  ‘That’s what you think of me. Don’t you?’ my mother said as we reached the first floor. She paused to catch her breath.

  Shipra masi’s expensive sandals could be heard four seconds before she arrived to join us on the first floor.

  ‘See this stupid sister of mine. She said no to any big gifts,’ Shipra masi said to me.

  ‘You did?’ I said to my mother.

  My mother looked at me.

  ‘You will never understand how much I love you,’ my mother said.

  I hung my head down in shame. My mother smacked the back of my head. I deserved a slap.

  Shipra masi waved her hands as she spoke.

  ‘You and your mother, both the same – impractical. She tells him, “I sent my son to do one MBA, I am getting two MBAs in return. Ananya is the best gift,”’ Shipra masi said, ‘OK, she earns a lot, but Kavita, why say no if someone is ready to give. Why not grab it.’

  ‘Because we are not that kind of people, Shipra masi,’ I said and gave my mother a hug, ‘she is all talk. But she can never behave like Duke’s mother. Never,’ I said.

  I came into my hotel room where ten cousins, six aunts and four uncles sat on my bed. I sat on the floor as space was at a premium. We had twenty rooms to choose from, but my relatives would rather be