‘Krish, your father wants to talk to you,’ my mother said.
‘Tell him, I don’t want to,’ I said.
‘He said he won’t come for Minti’s wedding if you don’t speak to him,’ my
mother said. Weddings on my mother’s side of the family were when we needed
my father the most. My mother wanted to portray a sense of normalcy. If my
father showed his face, it prevented tongues wagging for weeks. I had no choice.
I went and sat opposite him.
‘So, now that you have resorted to blackmail, what do you want to talk about?’
I said.
‘It’s not blackmail. When my family doesn’t talk to me, why should I....’ he said.
‘Whatever. What is it?’ I said.
‘Who is that girl?’
‘Ananya Swaminathan,’
‘How do you know her?’
‘She is a classmate from college and my girlfriend.’
‘See Kavita,’ my father said, ‘and you said she is only a friend.’
‘You talk to me, why do you have to take it out on her,’ I said.
‘What is the purpose of her visit here?’ my father said.
‘She came on a work assignment. Minti invited her to the wedding. Do you
have a problem?’
‘You will not choose a girl for marriage. I will choose for you,’ my father said.
‘You want to sell me. And while you are out there negotiating me, what’s my
going rate?’
‘Kavita, this boy....’
‘This boy is right here. Talk to me.’
‘I am not coming for Minti’s wedding,’ my father announced.
‘Please, don’t do that. Krish, talk properly,’ my mother pleaded.
‘No mom, we won’t take him. We’ll tell them he is sick, mentally.’
nora
(Nora)
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