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‘He has a speech?’ I said. Ananya and I sat on regal chairs at the venue of our
reception. At least this function felt familiar to my relatives as they saw food stalls
in the open garden. We were at the Madras Boat Club. Coloured lights twined
around the trees; the lakeside venue was a welcome change from the
unpronounceable smoke-filled mandapam.
‘Yeah, he wanted to do a powerpoint, but I stopped him. He even came to the
hotel to show the speech to you.’
‘When?’ I said, ‘I was there only.’
‘Sleeping all day,’ Ananya said. ‘He only heard snores.’
‘You didn’t sleep?’ I said.
‘No way, we have so many out of town guests. I haven’t slept for the last two
days.’
‘So, how do you manage to look so beautiful?’ I said.
She blushed. It matched her clothes. She wore a pink lehnga with heavy gold
and silver embroidery for the evening, a surprise for my relatives and a bit of
shock for her own aunts. However, it was too late and Ananya was already
married – to me. Screw you, Pure Harish, I thought, though I cursed myself for
thinking of him at all.
‘Congratulations,’ some random person came to the stage to meet us and we
smiled for pictures for the hundredth time.
Dinner did have North Indian choices, but the flavours were a bit off.
‘They’ve made gobi aaloo with coconut oil,’ Minti complained.
‘We are all going back tomorrow,’ I said. ‘You’ll have your paranthas soon. Now
don’t make a face and eat ice-cream.’
‘When are we cutting the cake?’ one of my younger cousins said, pointing to