2 States The Story Of My Marriage (35 page)

‘She is telling me to apologise. Can you imagine Minti talking to Duke’s mother
like that?’

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‘She is different. She is confident, independent and intelligent. But she is

caring and sensitive too.’

‘She is too intelligent to be a good daughter-in-law.’

I had no clue how to respond to that, but I had to calm her. ‘She isn’t that

intelligent, mom,’ I assured her. ‘She did economics, but I beat her in that

subject.’

‘We don’t have bahus in Punjabis like that, no matter how high-profile. We

keep them straight,’ my mother said.

‘So we will too,’ I said to pacify her.

‘She is out of control.’

‘Mom, she is here with her parents here. But I am marrying only her; once she

comes to our house, we can control her. You only say, no, that South Indians are

docile and scared,’ I said whatever my mother needed to hear.

‘I don’t want my daughter-in-law to raise her voice or answer me back. She has

to be under my thumb.’

‘Fine, make her toe the line.’ I said, ‘but be normal now.’

‘I heard that,’ Ananya said, her face red. Ananya stood there with her parents.

Damn, I hadn’t shut the door after Ananya left.

‘Ananya? I didn’t realise you were here,’ I said.

‘And I didn’t realise what I was doing. So, I will be taught to toe the line after
marriage. Well done, Krish, it’s not just your mother, it is you as well,’ Ananya

said.

‘Ananya, I….’ Both women stared at me with tear-ready eyes, ready to shoot

their ultimate emotional laser weapons.

Ananya’s father tapped his wife’s shoulders, signaling departure.

‘I told my parents your mother will apologise. But you guys are making bigger

plans,’ Ananya said and walked out of the room with her parents.

I ran out and caught up with Ananya. “Wait, where are you going?’

‘We’re done,’ she said, her words firm despite the wobbly voice.

‘What do you mean?’

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‘It’s over,’ Ananya clarified, ‘between you and me.’

‘Are you breaking up with me? What? Ananya, are you crazy? I was

manipulating her so she’d calm down.’

‘I hate manipulations, Krish, and I hate manipulators even more,’ Ananya said

and broke into tears.

Ananya’s father came towards us and held Ananya’s hand. ‘It’s not about

communities. It’s about the kind of people we want to be with,’ he said.

I stood alone in the corridor as Ananya’s family walked away and the ground

tilted around my feet.

Needless to say, Operation Beach Passion was not executed that night.

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The Final Act:

Delhi & Chennai & Delhi & Chennai

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54

I turned workaholic after Goa, spending fourteen maniacal hours a day in the

office. I even bought the company laptop home to slog more. I achieved twice my

work targets, I didn't socialise, I didn't see movies and I stopped going to

restaurants.

‘You have a great future,’ Rannvijay, my new boss, told me.

When Citibank sees a great future in you, it means you have no life at present.

‘Thanks, Rannvijay,’ I said.

‘Though you could do with a shave. What's with the new look? Growing a

beard? And you look weak.... Take care of your health.’

I had tried to call Ananya several times after my return. Her parents would not
pass her the phone if I called home. In her office, the receptionist would tell me

she was in a meeting. When I did reach her, she'd make an excuse and not

converse. Ananya had a cell-phone now, but she stopped taking any calls from

Delhi. One day I had a visitor in office from Citibank Mumbai. I requested him for

his phone to make a call.

‘Hello,’ Ananya picked up the phone.

’Hi, don’t hang up. It’s me, ‘ I said.

’Krish, please...whose phone is this?’

’A colleague from the Mumbai office. Listen, I am sorry, for the tenth time. Your
receptionist will have a count of my earlier attempts.’

‘Krish, this isn’t about an apology.’

‘Then stop sulking.’

‘I am not sulking; I am doing what maximises everyone’s happiness in the long

term.’

I scratched my head to respond to her corporate-vision type answer. ‘What

about you and me?’

‘For my own sake, I can’t let make my parents feel small.’

‘Don’t you miss me?’ I said.

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She kept silent. I checked the phone; I had spent four minutes on the call. My

colleague gave me puzzled looks as to why I had to use his phone.

‘Ananya? I said, do you miss me?’

‘What’s the point? Say, I forgive you, what will change? Will your mother

change? Will her bias towards me, towards South Indians, towards the girl’s

change?’

‘She is good at heart, Ananya. Believe me she is, ‘ I said.

‘Oh really, why don’t you have her apologise to my parents then?’ she said.

It was my turn to stay silent.

‘See,’ she said.

‘She is sensitive about everything right now.’

‘No, she has a chip on her shoulder about being from the groom’s side.’

I let out a sigh. ‘Ananya, what happened to our plans to elope? Run away with

me,’ I said.

‘And go where? To my caring, nurturing mother-in-law?’ Ananya said, ‘No, I

want to marry where my parents are treated as equals.’

‘You should have been born as a boy,’ I said.

‘That’s so sexist, I would have hung up if I didn’t care for you.’

‘Do you care or not ? Don’t you love me? Isn’t our love above everything?’

‘Don’t ask impractical questions,’ she said, her voice heavy.

‘Can I do anything? Anything?’ I said desperately.

‘Don’t call me again. Help me get over this,’ She said.

‘I love you,’ I said.

‘Bye, Krish.’

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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?’

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‘What is the point of me seeing these girls? What am I supposed to check out

in one hour? Her complexion? Figure – fat or slim? Is the marble in her home

real? None of this matters when you have to spend your life with the person, so

might as well save time. The parents should do the meeting. Whoever massages

your ego more, say yes.’

‘What happened to you? These multinationals are sucking your blood,’ my

mother said.

‘Can you apologize to Ananya’s parents?’ I said.

My mother didn’t respond. She stood up from the sofa and went into the

kitchen.

I followed her ‘Why can’t you do it?’ I said.

She didn’t answer me. She dabbed at dishwashing detergent with a sponge

and scrubbed the utensils. She addressed an imaginary audience:

‘First a useless husband, now a useless son. I had thought, after my son’s

marriage. I will get respect. I said yes to his choice of girl, but at least behave like
the girl’s side. Now he wants me to fall at their feet. What is so great about this

girl? Shipra is right, everyone is selfish.’

‘Stop it, mom, I am not telling you to grovel. You can apologize over the

phone.’

‘Apologize for what? Is it wrong to expect what is due to me? Didn’t I look after
your grandmother until she died?’

‘Didn’t Ananya help set Duke’s family right? Didn’t you say yes then?’

‘I was wrong. I hadn’t met her parents then. I’ve never met such a dry breed of
people. Look at how they eat dinner, like it is a punishment. Ananya’s mother –

does she ever laugh? Dark from outside, dark from inside.’

The doorbell rang. My father had come back from another of his lacklusture

business ventures. I switched off the TV and opened the door. I had told him the

partial truth about Goa. I had said there was an office conference there and that I

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was taking mom along. I had become quiet after my return and didn’t even bother

to fight with him anymore. He came inside and noticed the silence between my

mother and me. There were several evenings these days at home when no one

spoke to anyone.

‘Have you decided to stop talking to your mother, too?’ my father asked as he

sat on the sofa and removed his shoes.

It’s none of your business, would have been my usual response. But I had

fought enough with the world. Another argument wouldn’t have yielded anything.

‘We’ll be fine,’ I said. I wished my mother would bring his dinner soon.

‘Are you not enjoying your job?’ my father said.

‘The job is good. They said I’ve a great future,’ I said. I don’t know why I said
the last line. Somehow, I felt the need to tell my father I was doing well.

‘Why are you upset with your mother?’ he said.

Ok, it was enough. ‘It’s none of your business,’ I said.

‘Are you telling me my own family is not my business?’ he said.

‘Dad, enough. I am too tired to argue.’

My mother brought him dinner and I went back to my room. I took out

Ananya’s pictures. I tossed and turned in bed wondering what to do next. When

you can’t sleep, your mind comes up with weird schemes. I couldn’t do it over the

phone. I had to go in person to do it.

I woke up at four and took a shower.

‘You are going to office now?’ my mother said as she heard me get ready.

‘I have a presentation, I’ll be back late,’ I said.

I took an auto to the airport. I plonked a month’s salary to take my cross-

country joyride.

‘Same day return trip to Chennai please.’ I said at the Indian Airlines counter.

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55

Chennai seemed embarrassingly familiar on my second trip. I could throw in

Tamil terms and negotiate with autos. I knew the main roads. I reached Ananya’s

office at eleven.

‘Hi, I’m Krish,’ I said to the receptionist.

‘Oh, that Krish,’ she said and called Ananya.

Ananya came out. I opened my arms to embrace her, but she shook hands.

‘I came for the day,’ I said, as we sat in the HLL cafeteria.

‘You shouldn’t have,’ she said. ‘What’s with the unshaven look? And why do

you seem so weak? Are you sick?’

‘I want to meet your parents,’ I said.

‘There is no use. No matter how charming you are, they don’t trust you

anymore,’ Ananya said.

‘Do you trust me?’

‘Irrelevant,’ she said.

‘I’ll go to your place,’ I said.

‘Don’t, Harish’s parents are in town. They will visit my parents today.’

I took a deep breath to keep my temper in control. ‘At least spend the day with
me,’ I said.

‘I can’t. I have work. Besides, it is not good for my parents’ reputation.’

Blood rushed up my face. ‘What reputation? What about Ahmedabad? What

about when you’d lie to them to meet me in Chennai? What about Ratna Stores?’

My voice was as loud as my body was tired.

She stood up. ‘Please don’t create a scene at my workplace.’