I came home and sat down in front of the TV. For dysfunctional families,
television is the biggest boon. Without this electronic glue, millions of Indian
families will fall apart.
The music channels showed songs of everlasting love. The couples seemed
insanely happy. Perhaps, they were all from the same state, religion, caste and
culture and their parents were completely in sync with each other. Otherwise,
how can you fall in Love in India? Some grown-ups in your house are bound to
get pissed off.
My mother didn’t talk about Goa or show any signs of remorse. She did feel a
little guilty about my low mood; her penance consisted of cooking paneer dishes
everyday.
‘I’ve made paneer bhurji. You’ll have paranthas with it?’ she said.
I didn’t respond. She took my lack of protest for a yes. She returned with
dinner with twenty minutes. ‘You want white butter?’ my mother asked.
I shook my head.
‘Too much work in office? There is a Canara Bank near our house. Should I
talk to the manager for a job?’
‘No, office is OK,’ I said.
I tried to eat, but couldn’t. I had not eaten anything for three days. I hid the
paranthas in my laptop bag when she wasn’t looking.
‘Shipra masi had recommended another girl. They have bungalow in Shalimar
Bagh. Would you like to see her?’ she said.
I stared at my mother.
‘What?’ she said.
‘I’ll marry her. No need to see her. Fine?’ I said.
‘Krish, don’t say like that. When have I forced you?’
nora
(Nora)
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