‘Yes, sir,’ Brijesh said, his tone apologetic.
I pressed my teeth tight to prevent a smile. A snigger slipped out. The inspector turned to me.
‘Are you finding this funny?’ Sub-inspector D’Souza said.
‘No, sir,’ I said, keeping a straight face.
Brijesh’s and my parents entered the police station. They saw us, sitting across from the sub-
inspector.
‘What happened, inspector?’ my father said.
‘Are you the parents? Come see what your children are up to,’ Sub-inspector D’Souza said.
‘You are too much, Radhika,’ my mother said. I sat in a car with my parents. Brijesh sat in a separate
car with his own folks. The naughty kids had to be separated, I guess, as we made our way back to the
hotel.
‘I am sorry, mom,’ I said for the seventh time, ‘and thank you, dad.’
My father had finally made the cops thaw. Dad figured out a contact in State Bank of India in
Goa, who in turn knew the police commissioner of the state. A few calls, tons of apologies and a
wedding invitation to the entire police station was what it took to finally make the sub-inspector melt.
‘Both of you are going to start a life together. Have kids together. Is this how mature adults are
expected to behave?’ the sub-inspector said before we left. My father kept quiet as he sat in the front
seat of the car. My mother continued to talk. ‘I have never heard of any girl drinking and smoking
drugs before her wedding. Never.’
I kept quiet. She continued, ‘If our relatives find out, what will they think? Out-of-control girl.’
I wanted to react. However, I clenched my fists tight to restrain myself. She didn’t stop.
‘What will the Gulatis think?’ she said. ‘They must be questioning their decision tonight.’
‘Okay, mom, that is enough,’ I said.
‘What enough? Drinking beer. Having charas-ganja. Is this even a girl?’
‘Their son did the same.’
‘So?’
‘What do you mean, so? Why aren’t you saying they must be ashamed of their son too?’
‘He is a boy. He will do his mischief. Why do you have to do the same? Is this your so-called
equality?’
‘Mom. It’s done. Can we please be quiet until we get to the hotel?’
She faced me with folded hands.
‘I can be quiet. But you also have to behave. I beg you. Can you please control yourself until
your wedding?’
‘And what after that?’ I said. ‘I am no longer your headache?’
She glared at me. I looked away.
‘Will you behave?’ she said finally.
‘Okay fine,’ I said.
‘Good.’
We reached the hotel. All of us got out of the car.
‘Sorry, dad,’ I said to him.