One Indian Girl by Chetan Bhagat

‘I don’t think so. I do fine on my own.’
‘There is an age, beta. You get the best matches then. After that, a girl’s appeal declines. You
are twenty-six already.’
‘So I am like a car model? Depreciating over the years.’
‘You are impossible! I am not talking to you.’
My mother sulked for the next half-hour, which meant thirty minutes of peace. We walked
along Rajpath all the way to Rashtrapati Bhavan. Her tough and sullen expression matched that of the
security guards on duty.
‘What do you want, mom?’ I said finally.
‘You say you are not ready. But give me a time-frame. When will you start looking at boys
seriously?’
‘I don’t know. Three years. Four?’
‘You will be thirty. How do you expect me to find a good guy for you?’
‘I will also be an even more successful banker.’
‘So? That makes it worse.’
I rolled my eyes.
‘I would have a lot of money of my own. That will help me and my husband get a good start in
life, no?’ I said.
‘You don’t need to make so much. Your man will.’
‘Mom. Please.’
‘One year. I will wait one year, then you cooperate. We start looking seriously, okay?’
‘Just one year?’
I stopped to buy peanuts from a street vendor. She rambled on while I fed her with one hand
and held the peanuts in the other.
‘You are so fussy. It will take another year even after I start looking for you. Another year to
do the wedding, as NRIs have their own time issues. It is still a three-year process. You will be
twenty-nine. Already late. Doesn’t listen, this girl.. .’
‘One year. Okay? But don’t push,’ I said.
‘I never push. Do I ever push?’ she said.
I looked at her. She seemed so earnest while asking her question, I burst out laughing.
‘Please find sensible men. Men with some class, okay?’ I said.
‘What class? I am going to find some slum-dweller for you or what? I’ll find total gentleman,
you wait and see,’ she said. I mentally grinned at the word ‘gentleman’, which made me think of Neel.
He was what my mother would call a gentleman. Minus his affair, of course.
‘I love you, mom. You are too cute,’ I said.
‘What? And what is this class business when you yourself are eating peanuts on the road?’