look aimed at Megha’s mother, who had limited formal education.
The grilling continued in that vein the rest of the evening, with questions about everything from sewing and embroidery to bargain-shopping and child-rearing.
When Avva brought out the snacks and tea for the guests, the men and Shanti ate and drank heartily, but Amma toyed with the food, perhaps to show she wasn’t happy with the quality of the plates and cups they were served in. Or maybe she was nervous, too.
Megha felt emotionally drained from the Ramnaths’ visit and especially from that long and painful interrogation.
Suresh’s father, Vinayak, whom Suresh strongly resembled, ventured to add a few comments when his wife commanded him to do so. “Very important for the girl to fit in with our family, no? We are a very close-knit family, you see,” he said mildly. In faded gray pants and a cream colored bush coat, he seemed to be a man of few words and very little personality. He looked puny compared to his wife.
Shanti, Suresh’s sister, the meek and bespectacled teenager, also seemed to favor her father in looks and personality. She wore a pale yellow crepe sari with an ill-matching blouse and a thick gold necklace that looked awkward around her bird-like neck. After joining her palms in the customary greeting of Namaste when she was introduced to Megha and her parents, Shanti immediately grabbed the newspaper lying folded on the teapoy and read it with undivided interest all the while they were there.
Later, when Megha analyzed her own reactions to the Ramnaths, she realized disappointment had topped the list, followed by intimidation. She protested to her parents, “How can you expect me to marry that man? He looks old and emaciated. And did you see his mother? Oh my God, she’s fearsome enough to make Palgaum’s notorious cockroaches run for their lives.”
“Old? Suresh is only ten years older than you,” Avva snapped, rolling her pretty eyes. “ Putti, your father and I are fourteen years apart.” Putti meant little girl; it was an affectionate term her mother often used with her. In fact, it was commonly used in many Kannada -speaking households to address female children.
“But your generation is different, Avva! People my age want some intellectual connection with their spouses besides the obvious sexual union.”
“Shh, why you are talking dirty like that?” Her mother looked at her like she had completely lost her mind. Physical bonding between the sexes was not to be discussed openly.
Her father scowled. “Stop fussing, Megha. If he is a bit thin now, he’ll put on weight with age. All men do. If you look at his fat mother there is no doubt he will also become like her later on.”
Besides, the astrologer consulted by her parents had with supreme confidence informed them that Suresh Ramnath was the perfect match for Megha.
When her mother had asked if he was certain, the astrologer’s eyes had widened with offended disbelief. “You are questioning my expert prediction, Mangala-bai! You know I always find most eligible boy for your daughter: educated, employed and also rich. Have I not made very best matches for your other two daughters? They are now happy in their husbands’ homes, no?”
When Megha grumbled about having to marry an ugly man, one shorter than herself, too, her once-handsome father sat her down and lectured her sternly. “Megha, let me tell you something: I’m a poor man and I cannot pay a big dowry. Because of your good looks the Ramnaths are asking for a reasonable dowry. Even that small amount I cannot afford, no? They have agreed to wait so I can pay it in installments. In my financial condition this is the best husband I can find for you.”
“But why does he want to marry me, Appa? There are lots of marriageable girls out there with big dowries. Can’t Suresh Ramnath have one of them?”
“Oh, Megha, you silly girl, don’t you understand that he wants to marry you? ” her father
The grilling continued in that vein the rest of the evening, with questions about everything from sewing and embroidery to bargain-shopping and child-rearing.
When Avva brought out the snacks and tea for the guests, the men and Shanti ate and drank heartily, but Amma toyed with the food, perhaps to show she wasn’t happy with the quality of the plates and cups they were served in. Or maybe she was nervous, too.
Megha felt emotionally drained from the Ramnaths’ visit and especially from that long and painful interrogation.
Suresh’s father, Vinayak, whom Suresh strongly resembled, ventured to add a few comments when his wife commanded him to do so. “Very important for the girl to fit in with our family, no? We are a very close-knit family, you see,” he said mildly. In faded gray pants and a cream colored bush coat, he seemed to be a man of few words and very little personality. He looked puny compared to his wife.
Shanti, Suresh’s sister, the meek and bespectacled teenager, also seemed to favor her father in looks and personality. She wore a pale yellow crepe sari with an ill-matching blouse and a thick gold necklace that looked awkward around her bird-like neck. After joining her palms in the customary greeting of Namaste when she was introduced to Megha and her parents, Shanti immediately grabbed the newspaper lying folded on the teapoy and read it with undivided interest all the while they were there.
Later, when Megha analyzed her own reactions to the Ramnaths, she realized disappointment had topped the list, followed by intimidation. She protested to her parents, “How can you expect me to marry that man? He looks old and emaciated. And did you see his mother? Oh my God, she’s fearsome enough to make Palgaum’s notorious cockroaches run for their lives.”
“Old? Suresh is only ten years older than you,” Avva snapped, rolling her pretty eyes. “ Putti, your father and I are fourteen years apart.” Putti meant little girl; it was an affectionate term her mother often used with her. In fact, it was commonly used in many Kannada -speaking households to address female children.
“But your generation is different, Avva! People my age want some intellectual connection with their spouses besides the obvious sexual union.”
“Shh, why you are talking dirty like that?” Her mother looked at her like she had completely lost her mind. Physical bonding between the sexes was not to be discussed openly.
Her father scowled. “Stop fussing, Megha. If he is a bit thin now, he’ll put on weight with age. All men do. If you look at his fat mother there is no doubt he will also become like her later on.”
Besides, the astrologer consulted by her parents had with supreme confidence informed them that Suresh Ramnath was the perfect match for Megha.
When her mother had asked if he was certain, the astrologer’s eyes had widened with offended disbelief. “You are questioning my expert prediction, Mangala-bai! You know I always find most eligible boy for your daughter: educated, employed and also rich. Have I not made very best matches for your other two daughters? They are now happy in their husbands’ homes, no?”
When Megha grumbled about having to marry an ugly man, one shorter than herself, too, her once-handsome father sat her down and lectured her sternly. “Megha, let me tell you something: I’m a poor man and I cannot pay a big dowry. Because of your good looks the Ramnaths are asking for a reasonable dowry. Even that small amount I cannot afford, no? They have agreed to wait so I can pay it in installments. In my financial condition this is the best husband I can find for you.”
“But why does he want to marry me, Appa? There are lots of marriageable girls out there with big dowries. Can’t Suresh Ramnath have one of them?”
“Oh, Megha, you silly girl, don’t you understand that he wants to marry you? ” her father
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