Page 149 of One Indian Girl
‘Okay,’ he said.
Okay? What the fuck is a singular ‘okay’? They should ban this one-word reply in conversations. How am I supposed to take it forward from here?
‘So yeah. What else do you do apart from work?’ I said.
‘Excuse me. But I have to go.’
‘Oh really? What happened?’ I said. I hate being rejected. Even by boring men doing their residency in Boston.
‘Nothing... Okay, I will tell you. This is not going to work. Your salary is too high.’
‘How can you get too high a salary?’
‘I mean for me. I mean compared to me.’
I realized this was a dead end. Why not end it with a bit of fun?
‘Oh, so you mean you are not man enough to handle it?’ I said.
He hung up without saying bye. Oops, strike one I guess. Ha ha.
Three weeks later we had struck off all the ten shortlisted names from the list.
‘It’s not going to work, mom,’ I said.
We had come to Dishoom, a quirky modern-Indian café in Covent Garden.
We ordered pao bhaji and masala chai, a rare delicacy in London.
‘I told you not to mention your career too much,’ she said, upset that I had rejected all ten suitors.
‘I can’t hide who I am,’ I said.
‘Why can’t you be like your sister?’
‘Because I am not Aditi didi. I don’t want to be her.’
We came back home. She came up with another idea. She wanted to upgrade our shaadi.com membership to the VIP category, where special agents help you get grooms.
‘We have special needs. We need special help,’ she said.
I guess I was special. Specially fucked up. No wonder she needed an army of specialists to trap a man for me.
She sat on my bed. I lay next to her and turned the other way.
‘Do whatever you want, mom,’ I said.
‘One of my daughters got settled so easily. I just hope and pray God helps us,’ she muttered to herself and raised her folded hands to the sky.
‘What’s with invoking God? Am I some illness? A misfortune?’ I said, without looking at her.
‘Will you stop being so touchy? It is a fact Aditi’s marriage happened so quickly. She has whiter skin, which helps. But she also had a good attitude. You should have an even better attitude.’
I turned towards her and interrupted her.
‘What do you mean, even better attitude? I should be more subservient? What is that word in ads? Homely? It just means submissive, right? You want me to be more homely?’
‘Well. Yeah.’
