Page 136 of One Indian Girl
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?’
31
Dragon-I restaurant, Central, Hong Kong
Neel and I had come for dim sum, the traditional Chinese dumplings, at the posh Dragon-I, a modern Chinese restaurant near our office. I struggled with my chopsticks as I picked up a steamed spinach dumpling.
‘So yeah, one year. That’s all mom gave me,’ I said. I finished recounting my India Gate conversation.
Neel lifted a peanut dumpling with his chopsticks easily.
‘So you are getting married?’ Neel said.
I looked at him and thought a little before I spoke again. ‘I am just tired of my mother’s relentless pursuit. I have to listen to her at some point.’
‘What aboutus, what we have?’ Neel took a sip of Chinese tea.
‘Neel, what about my life? Do you care?’ I said, my voice firm. We locked eyes.
‘Of course, I care. But isn’tusimportant?’ he said in a reasonable voice.
‘For there to be anus, there has to be a future.Ushas no future, right?’ I said.
‘I don’t know. We haven’t discussed anything,’ Neel said, looking taken aback by how serious the lunch conversation had turned.
‘And whose fault is that?’ I said.
Of course, it is your fault, Neel, is what I wanted to say.
‘The topic never came up, I guess,’ he said.
I didn’t respond. I just stared at him. I put my chopsticks down.
‘What?’ he said, figuring out that something was very wrong.
‘What topic, Neel?’ I said.
‘Us,’ he said. ‘Us and our future.’
‘Us is useless,’ I said.
‘Us is special,’ Neel said.
